“Yeah. I talked to him on the phone, but he wouldn’t tell me shit until I told him Sam was dead.”
I looked at him. “He didn’t know?”
“Claimed he didn’t.”
That didn’t sit right. Sam’s murder had been on the news, and anybody scared enough to hide from questions should’ve known enough to check what happened to the man asking them.
“What exactly did he say?”
“At first, he acted like he didn’t know who the fuck I was talking about. Soon as I mentioned Grady and told him Sam searched his name before he died, he got quiet. Then he asked if you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That’s what I asked him. He wouldn’t answer. Said if you wanted the truth, you had to come get it yourself.”
I stared at the house for a few seconds. “Sound like a setup to you?”
“Everything sound like a setup to me right now.”
At least we agreed on that.
We crossed the street together, both of us keeping our eyes on the house as we walked up the driveway. Before we reached the porch, the front door opened.
The man standing there looked to be somewhere in his seventies. Gray hair covered most of his head, and a pair of glasses sat low on his nose. He looked at Mace first, then at me, and something changed in his face the second our eyes met.
For a moment, he just stared.
“You Dr. Greene?” I asked.
His eyes moved over my face again before he finally nodded. “Yes.”
“You got something you wanna say?”
He seemed to realize he’d been staring and stepped away from the door. “Come inside.”
Mace glanced at me before we followed him in.
The house smelled like coffee and old furniture. Books covered most of the shelves in the living room, along with family pictures and shit I didn’t pay much attention to. Greene led us into the kitchen and motioned toward the table, but instead of sitting with us, he stayed near the counter.
“I don’t have much time,” he said.
Mace looked around the quiet house. “You retired. Where the fuck you gotta be?”
Greene’s eyes moved to him. “Alive.”
The answer wiped the little bit of humor from Mace’s face.
I pulled out a chair and sat down, while Mace took the one beside me. Greene poured himself a glass of water, and I watched his hand shake before he set the pitcher down.
“You knew Sam?” I asked.
“I met him once.”
“When?”
“A few days before he was killed.”
Mace shifted beside me. “What did he want?”
