Page 72 of Trust No One

“Not him. But she talked about the guys at school who made passes at her.”

“Which ones?”

“She never said. And I didn’t care enough to ask.”

“Fast-forward seventeen years and she’s back in Gabe’s orbit.”

“Maybe. I don’t follow Maria and Gabe’s marriage.”

“Do you think Gabe might have poisoned Maria?” he asked.

“No. He needs her.”

“Maybe he got tired of needing her.”

“I don’t see it,” I said.

“Are you speaking as family, friend, or attorney?”

“Why are you asking these questions?” I asked.

“Gabe’s been arrested.”

I didn’t like it, but I saw the logic. Husband. Affair. Money. “That’s why you’re here?”

“Giving you a heads-up.”

“Do you have physical proof, or are we dealing with circumstantial evidence?”

His eyes sharpened. “Until he retains you, I’m not obligated to share case details.”

“What if he refuses my help?”

“That’s on him. Like I said, he hasn’t always made the best choices.”

“Keep me posted after you talk to Amy?”

He shook his head. “I don’t discuss active investigations with defense attorneys. If I file attempted murder charges, then we’ll talk.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Pete Miller

Tuesday, October 20, 2026, 8:00 a.m.

The jail doors slammed behind him.

Pete strode toward the deputy. The old guy looked pissed, annoyed. Most of these deputies and guards hated people like him. But this guy . . .

“Bad day?” he asked.

The deputy shoved a gray tub toward him. It was filled with the few items he’d had when he was arrested three months ago. “You’ll be back.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Pete collected the few rumpled bills. Coins. Pocketknife. Keys. And an envelope he didn’t recognize. He scooped it all up.

Door locks opened. He strode past a holding area outside. The morning sun rose over gray concrete. He looked down. He hated the sun. Too glaring.