“Yeah, well, I have this overdeveloped sense of responsibility,” Jem said.“Never leave a job half-done.A man finishes what he starts.Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, that kind of stuff.Excuse me.”
Van Cleave looked like he was about to grab him, but Trevino said, “Mr.Berger, do you have a minute to talk?”
“I’m at work.”
“I know.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“You will in a minute,” Van Cleave said.
Jem hesitated.Van Cleave was bigger than he was—taller, more heavily muscled.That didn’t necessarily mean anything.But Van Cleave had the gun.Van Cleave had Trevino.Van Cleave had the job, and if you fucked with a cop, you were fucking with the job.
“You know,” Jem said, “an upstanding citizen might start to think he was being harassed.”
Van Cleave made a sound of disgust.
“I thought you’d be interested to know that we caught up with Mr.Shumway,” Trevino said.
“Who?”
“Kazen Shumway.You were in his house the other night.”
“Oh yeah?”Jem grinned at Van Cleave.“You finally caught up to him, huh?”
Van Cleave stone-faced him back.
“He told us that he’d never seen Mr.Lee’s wallet before.He said you came to his house and told him that if he didn’t do whatever you told him, you were going to frame him by telling the police you found Mr.Lee’s wallet in his home.”
“That’s bullshit.”
Trevino didn’t respond.
“What did I want him to do?”Jem asked.
“He said you didn’t tell him, but he thinks you wanted him to confess so that your friend would be off the hook.”
For a moment, Jem wasn’t sure what they meant by that.Tean wasn’tonthe hook.And then he laughed.“Ammon?Oh shit, lady, if that’s what you think, you’re inwayover your head.”
“You want to watch your mouth?”Van Cleave asked.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.It’s bullshit.It’s not true.Kazen had that wallet.When I found it, he ran.”To Van Cleave, he added, “If you’d caught him that night, he wouldn’t have had time to come up with a bullshit story.”
Van Cleave set his jaw.The little chin puff trembled.
“Mr.Berger, I’d like you to come in for an interview,” Trevino said.
“No.”
“This is important.”
“No.”
“We need to have a conversation about your friend.About Mr.Leon.And this isn’t the place.”
“I don’t know how you got this wild hair about Tean, but you two are out of your fucking minds.He didn’t have anything to do with this.So, unless you’re arresting me, the answer is no.I’m not going anywhere with you.I’m not talking to you.And I think we’re done here.”
From across the showroom, Kristie, perched on top of her four-inch heels, was staring at Jem.She was carrying a little watering can, the one she used on the showroom plants, but she seemed to have forgotten it—it tilted in her hand, and water splashed on the vinyl flooring.
