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Austin reached inside his jack
et and came out with an envelope. He tossed it in Lane’s lap.
“Fifty grand,” Austin said.
Lane, looking nervous, pulled up on the armrest between the seats and stuffed the envelope in the console.
“You shouldn’t have brought that here,” he said, his eyes scanning outside the vehicle.
“I thought it would be better if you gave it to your favorite uncle.”
Lane raised his eyebrows but said nothing. He looked at him, then realized that Austin’s massive bruising was making him uncomfortable.
“I’m trying to lay low,” Austin added.
Lane turned and looked out the windshield, and said, “What the hell is going on? First you get shot at and Kenny gets killed and then Camilla Rose dies.”
“I’m pretty damn aware of that,” Austin said. “But thanks for your concern.”
“You’re not worried who did that? You could be dead, too.”
“Yeah, I’m concerned,” Austin said, and shrugged. “But what the hell can I do? Except try to find out answers.”
Lane shook his head, and sighed. “Man, I really am very sorry about it all. Don’t know what to say. And she looked like she was fine when I left the bar last night.”
Austin cocked his head, and said, “So, tell me about that. Who were you with?”
“Just a small crowd that she’d invited,” Lane said, glancing at him. “There was Sue Thomas. Know her? She has that cake company.”
“Yeah, sure. She’s a member of the board of directors for Camilla’s Kids.”
“I didn’t know that. And that architect, John Broadhead, he was there.”
Austin nodded.
“Broadhead, too. His firm designed the camps for Camilla Rose. And the hospital wing for the cancer center.”
“You know,” Lane said finally, “I remember Broadhead talking with Aimee Wolter about that last night.”
“Her company’s handling the PR for the cancer research center, which is also being built with the modular units.” He paused, narrowed his eyes, then said, “So, it was you, Sue, John, and Aimee . . . Who else?”
“As far as I know, just Tony Holmes . . .”
“Camilla Rose must’ve been using Holmes there to draw donations from the football crowd.”
Lane nodded, and went on. “But there could’ve been others. I got there some time after ten, and Camilla Rose wasn’t there.”
“She’d already left for the night?”
“Not for the night. Aimee said that maybe an hour earlier Camilla Rose had seen Matt Payne—”
“The cop? That Payne?”
“Yeah, you know him?”
“He came by the hospital with a detective this morning. They were asking all kinds of questions.”
“Really? I got a message they want to interview me.”
