Stanley hesitated, just for a moment. He pulled against his ropes, made a face, but he didn’t seem terribly surprised by the question. “Of course she was. According to her, she’s been taking photographs for weeks.”
Ryan smoked casually, but he was very curious at the tense Stanley had used. “Who was?”
“Fernanda. Who else? She told me all about it when she came to my room.”
Nowthatwas interesting. “Fernanda came to your room tonight?”
“What do you care?”
“I’m trying to help you, Stanley. The sooner I clear you of suspicion for killing Sarah, the sooner we can get you out of that chair.”
“You seriously expect me to believe you’ll let me go? It sounded like you and Hunter were going to beat a confession out of me a minute ago, back in the office.”
Something about this felt off, sent alarm bells ringing. “You knew Hunter?”
A dark grin crossed Stanley’s face. “I knew his type.”
Ryan tapped ash onto a stack of dinner plates. He didn’t like the implications of this. “So let’s go back to Fernanda. You said she came to your room this evening?”
Stanley sighed, like he really couldn’t believe they were going tobother with all this. “Yes. At seven thirty. Maybe a hair after. I was sound asleep, and that girl came flying through the door. Had a gun. Looked insane.”
“And why would Fernanda do that?”
Stanley tried to stay quiet, but with a little patience Ryan was able to get a consistent story out of the man. He walked Stan through it once, twice, checking to see if the big guy would trip himself up, but eventually Ryan felt satisfied.
Finally, Ryan said, “And you went along with Fernanda’s plan? Why not just kill her? Take the film yourself?”
“Because I’m not a bad man, Phan. I’m not a murderer.”
“You shot Hunter in the office. Shot him dead.”
Stanley’s mouth twisted down. It looked like genuine disgust. “That wasn’t intentional, what happened to Hunter. If that girl from the steakhouse hadn’t tackled me, none of this would have happened.”
“It almost looked like you wanted to shootme.”
“A warning shot. I just wanted to get you out of my way.”
“What were you going to do? Drive back to Stockton and cry to Frank?”
Stanley said nothing.
Ryan was tempted to bring up the things Penelope had told him about Stanley on the ride down to Mexico—He takes women to some place called the Terra Vista. He hurts them—but what was the point? If even someone as out of the loop as Ethan knew those stories, it wasn’t like they’d give Ryan much leverage.
Instead, Ryan burned down his cigarette and started up another. “What kind of work was Sarah Powers doing for the outfit?”
“You seriously expect me to tell you that?”
Ryan leaned down, blew smoke into Stanley’s face. “Back in the office, the Black chick said you’d spent the last six weeks having dinner at the steakhouse with Sarah. That sounds like pretty serious work.”
Stanley rolled his eyes. Ryan smoked, said nothing, curious if Stanley would fill in the gap.
Instead, one of those hair-raisingSHRIEKScame from the desert, very close by.
Stanley flinched. “What the hellisthat?”
“Let’s not get distracted. How long was Fernanda in your room this evening?”
“Let me go and I’ll tell you.”
