Page 173 of The American

“Gunshot. As soon as they identify her, we’ll launch a murder investigation.”

“Fuck.”

“What’s going on, Danny?”

“Too much to explain, especially over the phone. When can I see you?”

“Ah, well . . .”

“What, Higham?”

“My wife surprised me with a post-vacation vacation. I’m at MIA.”

“Then get the fuck out of MIA.”

“Give me a break, Danny. I’m trying to fix my marriage.”

“Aren’t we all.” I grimace as I rub at my sore lip, wandering back over to the others, getting questioning looks. I wave a hand at them dismissively.

“What do you know about Officer Richard Bean?” Higham asks.

“What do you know about Officer Richard Bean?”

“I know his wife reported a break in.”

“I didn’t break in. The doors were wide open.”

“What the hell, Danny?”

“Why would you think I’ve got anything to do with this?”

“Because I took some time over a Scotch while my wife was in bed and did a little digging, and do you know what I found?”

“What did you find?”

“I found out his son goes to the same school as your son.”

“What a coincidence.”

“And footage from a Ring doorbell sent in by a resident shows you and James approaching the house.”

“Footage? You sure?”

He sighs. “Jesus, Danny.”

“Oh shut up, Higham. I don’t need your bitching in my ear. When are you back? I need to talk to you about the unidentified body.”

“Listen, these things take time, so I have time for a few extra days’ vacation, and you have time to think about if you’d like to tell me what happened to Officer Richard Bean.”

“I don’t need time for that. I didn’t stab him and James didn’t knock him out with a table lamp.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

“I did you a favor. Richard Bean is an immoral fuckhead.” I still in my seat when I realize what I’ve done, and James’s eyes confirm that I am, indeed, a clumsy cunt today. I can feel Brad’s eyes on me. “Call me when you’re back.” I hang up and every part of me tenses, waiting.

“Bean,” Brad says, looking between us. “Who the fuck is this Bean guy?”

Shit. “It’s nothing.” I wave a hand flippantly.