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“Did you know what they would do?”
“Would it matter if I said I didn’t?”
“Not really, no.”
“I’m surprised,” she said. “You still have your toe.”
“I’m resourceful.”
“I bet you are.”
Myron put down the phone. “So why are you helping your son’s killer?”
“Because,” Donna said, “I don’t believe Joey did it.”
“Why not? All that evidence—”
“Too much evidence, don’t you think?” Donna sat down. So did he. She reached out and beckoned him to return her phone. He did. “Think about it. The fingerprints. The DNA. The weapon. The toe.”
“Uh, Joey the Toe collects toes. It’s in the name.”
“Not when he kills someone. He uses it to send a message—a way to intimidate his rivals. Seriously, what kind of idiot keeps a dead man’s toe for the police to find? What kind of idiot leaves so many clues behind?”
“Prison is littered with such idiots.”
“Joey Turant was senior level of a major crime family. He had no motive to kill my boy.”
“You can’t know that. Maybe Joey was in the closet and Jordan was going to out him. Maybe Jordan crossed him or looked at him wrong or did nothing—”
“They were on the same side.”
Myron didn’t get that. “Same side of what?”
“I’m not going into it,” she said.
“Yeah, Donna, I think you are. I almost got my toe snipped off because of you.”
“So you think, what, I owe you?”
“I don’t get it. Why would you sic those goons on me?”
“My son and Bo,” she said.
“What about them?”
“Toward the end, their relationship was strained. You know how it is. Two young hot guys trying to commit in a city that’s the opposite of commitment.”
“One cheated?”
“I don’t know. Probably. Probably both. That doesn’t matter. Let me ask you something. Put aside your preconceived notions about this case, okay? When a murder occurs, who is always always the top suspect?”
Myron saw where she was going with this. “The partner.”
“Exactly.”
“So you think Bo was involved in Jordan’s murder?”
She didn’t bother replying.
