Ernie jittered, tapping his foot. I suspected he offered the story to distract me from what he wasn’t telling me. Finally, he said, “Do you know about her other daughter?”
My hand froze. “Other daughter?”
“Megan. Carver was asking about her too.”
“I wasn’t aware Dee had another daughter.”
“Most people weren’t.” Ernie drummed his foot against the floor. “Look, I’m always getting judged for my past. But I love kids.” Bile rose in my throat, and it was a struggle to keep the repulsion from my face. “Dee, though—she enjoyed hurting Natalie and Megan. I told you about the box, right? Sometimes, she would leave Natalie in the box for days.”
“Sounds like a good friend you had there.”
Ernie’s shoulders tensed, and for the first time since we had entered the room together, he seemed to forget his pain. I sat very still, a couch coil digging into my thigh, the smell of processed meat mixing with the rusty tang of the bloodied paper towels.
“We weren’t friends.”
I worked to keep my expression neutral. I knew how easily cornered animals could snap. I returned my attention to his injury, my hand shaking only a little.
“What happened to Megan?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Dee kill her too?”
“I told you I don’t know.”
Ernie’s tapping foot and darting eyes told me he was lying, but I let it go. For now, he needed to believe I was on his side. “How did you and Dee meet?”
“When Carver and me were cellmates, she hired me to keep an eye on him.”
I pulled the last of the bandage from his forehead and tried to mask my shock. The wound seeped, the drainage thick and yellow. The skin around it was hot. I could help, but he definitely needed antibiotics I didn’t have.
Yet it wasn’t the infection that stopped me. I had expected an open gash, but this was a carving. This wound had purpose. Four letters: PERV.
“You didn’t think to put antibiotic ointment on this?”
“It wasn’t so bad before.”
I dabbed the wound with an alcohol swab, then opened a packet of antibiotic ointment and applied it to his forehead. He looked like he might pass out, a greasy sheen coating his face.
“Were you in touch with Dee in the months before she died?”
“Not really. Can I have more of those pills?”
I handed over another packet of ibuprofen. This time, I held onto them for a second before releasing them. “You’re lying.”
“No,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction. He didn’t mind sharing other people’s secrets, but he wasn’t so eager to share his own. “I mean, I didn’t talk to her that much—a lot of these stories I got secondhand—but every once in a while, she needed help with something . . . not illegal, really. But it’s hard for a convicted felon to get a job, you know?”
“What kind of jobs did you do for Dee?”
His face darkened. “Just stuff.”
I took a square of gauze and secured it to his forehead with medical tape. I might have pressed harder than was entirely necessary. He winced. “I’ve got some pain pills,” I lied. “Veterinary grade, but they’ll work just fine. If I’m feeling generous.”
“What does it matter?”
“I might have some antibiotics in the car too.”
“That’s cold, man. Aren’t you, like, legally required to give them to me?”
The tremor in his voice told me he wanted those pills, badly, but he wanted to keep his secrets more.
“I’m happy to help you if you answer my questions.”
“I’ve answered them.”
I pushed, “What kind of jobs did you do for Dee?”
Ernie crossed his arms across his chest, and his lips tightened.
I only had one move left, and it was risky. I leaned in and tried my best to appear one kick away from disabling him. It wasn’t as hard as it should’ve been. “How old’s the kid?”
“What?”
“The boy I saw in the window, putting on his backpack.”
Ernie stilled and said nothing.
“He looks to be about eight or nine. Who is he, Ernie?”
He hesitated, suspicious. “My girlfriend’s son.”
San Francisco rents what they were, I knew a guy like Ernie couldn’t afford that Victorian row house on his own. “This is her place, isn’t it? The three of you living together?”
When Ernie spoke, his tone was defensive. “Yeah, so?”
“You’re a convicted pedophile, Ernie. You’re living with a child. Does your girlfriend know?”
He squirmed. “She wouldn’t care.”
I very much doubted that. “What about Family and Children’s Services—would they care?” I held his gaze even as he tried to break it. “How about your parole officer? Two times in prison already, can you really risk a third strike?”
His face wavered between anger and fear. “What do you want?” The tremor had returned. I had him.
“Answer my questions, honestly, and I won’t tell your girlfriend about your conviction, or the authorities about your living arrangements.” It was a lie, because I had been planning to report both since the moment I saw that boy in the window.
Ernie sighed and glared at me. “Dee hired me last year.”
“To do what?”
Ernie shifted on the couch, his fingertips massaging one temple, his face settling into a scowl. “You got those pain pills? It really hurts, man.”
I knew I would have to pay for any additional information. I foraged through my purse and pulled out most of the cash I had left, which wasn’t much after the diner and paying off Hannah.
Ernie shook his head. “Pills.” He leaned forward, eyeing my purse. If he made a play for it, could I stop him? Of course, there was also the question of what he would do when he discovered I had nothing stronger than a breath mint.
I opened my purse, my attention falling on the pepper spray Daryl had insisted I take. One capsaicin-laced stream would sear his eyes, maybe splash onto the gauze covering his wound. That would sting. Then I noticed the lump in the zippered pocket.
I pulled out the bottle containing Audrey’s medication and shook out two pills.
“These’re strong, so it’s better if you only take one now.” They were strong, but the pills Audrey took so her body didn’t reject her liver would do nothing for Ernie’s pain.
He studied the pills, his brow wrinkling. “What are these?”
“They’re like oxy for dogs,” I lied.
“What about the antibiotics?”
“I’ll get those from the car when we’re done.”
Ernie swallowed both pills. I had only a few minutes before he guessed they were fakes and before he realized I had no antibiotics in my car.
I pushed, “What did Dee hire you to do?”
“Can I have another pill, for later?”
I retrieved another tablet but kept it clasped in my hand.
“Dee wanted me to find someone.”
I stretched out my hand and unclasped it, an offering. “Who?” He snatched the pill from my palm. He swallowed the pill immediately, as I had known he would. Soon, he would start wondering why he remained clearheaded. Well, as clearheaded as someone like Ernie could be.