The Riverview Apartments were nowhere close enough to the river to justify its name. They weren't anything fancy either, just a series of two-story buildings that boasted of in unit washer/dryer and pet friendly options. The neighborhood wasn't particularly high value, but it was safe and quiet and so suburban it would make a hipster cry.

I'd parked my car in an available space across from Rachel's unit. The air was cool tonight. The street was lit more by too bright porch lights than the streetlights. The night's sky was murky, though I was unclear if it was from some fast traveling storm clouds, or from the lights from the city. It was Saturday night, so some were home and some weren't. That worked well enough for me. No on was paying attention to a lone car sitting in the lot. Plenty of people had company over anyway.

"This is sooo boring!" Alice said for the tenth time.

Speaking of company. "You're the one who wanted to come."

"You didn't tell me we'd be sitting in a car staring at the side of a building!"

"It's not the side of a building. It's Rachel's front door!"

"Why is nothing happening? It's been two hours!"

I took a pensive sip of my coffee. "I...I don't think she's home."

"You don't—Evie!"

"I know, I know! I was sure Operation: Catch a Liar Liar Pants on Fire was fool proof."

"That's a terrible name!" Like she could do better.

"How was I supposed to know she wouldn't be home?"

"Not home on a Saturday night?" She said with a comically overdrawn intonation. "How on earth could anyone predict this?"

"Alright! I get it. Damn."

"If you're going to do this P.I. thing at least don't half-ass it!"

"She'll probably come home soon."

"Sure, eventually." We stopped talking long enough for Delilah to take a caller on the radio before out of nowhere Alice sighed and said, "I'm getting hungry."

"I brought food."

"You brought Taco Bell."

"You don't like tacos?"

"I like good tacos."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you dissatisfied with our catering options? Well, please feel free to call our complaint line. It's one-eight hundred go fuck yourself."

She laughed, "Well, damn."

"I got chalupas." I shook the bag playfully in her face.

The tension left her shoulders as she thought it over. "I do like that chalupa bread."

As she ate I continued to stare at Rachel's door and wonder if this whole thing would be worth it. The guys over at Wolff Investigations had warned me about stakeouts. Sometimes they yielded the results you could only dream of, and sometimes they were nothing but a waste of time.

"It's cold in here."

"Is that your way of asking me to turn on the heat? 'Cause I won't."

"You're the cheapest person I know."

"And one of the most financially stable."

"True." She rubbed her hands together before blowing on them. "Should've taken my car. Would've had the heat on."

"I know."

"So what do you thinks going on with this bitch?"

"I'm not sure yet. I know she and this dude named Randy are pretending not to know each other. He's Peter's AA sponsor."

"Cheating?"

"Maybe. I hope not. I hope they aren't wasting my time with some bullshit I don't care about."

"You said the girl's broke, right? I bet this shit's about money."

"Maybe. None of them have any, though."

"Who was that guy?"

I looked around but saw no one. "What guy?"

"The one you were having a moment with."

I turned to her and frowned. "We weren't having a moment."

"Uh huh." She wiped her hands on a napkin. "Well, as your friend I always have your back I was just confused. I thought you liked Manny."

"I do like Manny."

"Right. And that other guy was the famous handyman I've heard about, right?"

"...Yeah."

"Hmmm. Employed man with benefits who takes you out to restaurants and movies and events." She held up the palm of her hands as if she was holding each man in each hand. "Broke man without stable income who's one missed boarding house payment away from homelessness and is probably fairly unreliable. I'm not saying anything. I'm just saying."

"Everything isn't about money."

"I expect that bullshit from teenage girls who don't know any better, but your as grown as I am. You know that cliché isn't true."

"There's nothing going on between me and Johnny. He's just a friend I help out occasionally."

"A'ight. I believe you." She said with a twist of her mouth. "But does he believe you—what in the hell?"

I whipped my head around in the direction she was looking. "What?"

"Thought I saw a man in the bushes."

"Why would there be a man in the bushes?"

"Maybe he's stalking me. Wouldn't be the first time."

"Do you see him."

"Naw."

"Maybe it was a dog."

"Maybe. Could have sworn I saw a man in a baseball cap, though."

"Someone's coming."

A dark Volvo pulled into the lot and parked in the space available in front of their apartment. I held my breath as we waited to see who would step out. When the door popped open, we saw a thin woman with a brunette Bob slide from behind the steering wheel.

"That's her."

"That bob is super flattering. I'd get one but these cheekbones are made for length."

"Shhhh!"

"...She can't hear us..."

We watched as she ambled up the stairs to her front door before fumbling briefly with her keys and finally walking into the dark. I gave her a minute and a half before I started dialing.

"Hello?" She said after ten agonizing seconds.

"Hello, Ms. Blair. It's Evie Harper." I spoke with the same peppiness I used with customers.

"Ms. Harper, yes?"

"I have news."

"You've found Peter?"

"No. I've discovered new information about Randy Watkins."

"Randy?"

"I think he's harboring Peter."

"Harboring?"

"Yes. I went to speak with him and it's clear he's hiding something."

"I see..."

"Well anyway I was calling to let you know I've decided to call the police."

She didn't see that coming. "What... Why?"

"I really think this thing is bigger than just Peter. I think Randy might have had something to do with the murder."

"I mean, you can't be sure of that can you?"

She was scrambling to find an excuse to talk me out of it. "Better safe than sorry."

"I'm not comfortable paying—"

"And I understand completely. Consider our contract terminated."

"Well uh.. maybe you should wait a moment."

"I think it's been long enough" I gave her a wistful sigh. "Unless you have any better ideas."

"Well, no."

"Alright then tomorrow morning I'll phone the police. Bye."

I hung up. "Let's see what she does."

"What if she does nothing."

"Then I really will go to police."

We sat watching her apartment like vultures watching a corpse. Nothing happened for what seemed like hours. Maybe nothing would happen. That was the risk.

Out of nowhere the door swung open and Rachel stepped out in a fresh change of clothes. She practically flew down the stairs.

"Where do you suppose she's going?" Alice said with her world-famous sarcasm.

"I don't know," I said with a devious little grin. "She looked like she was in for the night. I wonder what changed."

I waited for her to get in her car and pull off before I cranked mine. When she turned into traffic, I gunned it.

"Shit! " I said when I had to wait for oncoming traffic to slow. "I don't want to lose her."

"I still see her." Alice was squinting through the traffic. "She's about to turn left on Commonwealth. Probably headed for 295."

Damn, I'm glad I brought this 20/20 night vision having heifer.

When I got my opening I took it and weaved my way through the two lanes of traffic as quickly as possible. Her car came back into view when she turned onto the on ramp to enter 295. I made it to the entrance in record time by cutting off an old Toyota and using the on ramp as my personal speedway.

Up on the expressway I was met with a hazy procession of taillights. I hit the gas and caught up to the nearest car. The two of us tried to peer at the driver through the darkened front seat.

"That's not her. It's a dude."

I sped up to the next car but upon closer inspection realized the car was white and so passed it to check the next one. As we came up behind the next car the Volvo emblem became clear.

"That's got to be her!" Alice said, no longer bored.

"Let me make sure." I sped up and the two of us did a drive-by peek just as our cars lined up.

"That's definitely the shape of her bob."

I eased off the gas and let her pull ahead a bit before I got to a speed that was fast enough to keep up without alerting her that she was being followed. After about fifteen minutes she signaled that her exit was coming up and the two of us got off on Oak Street.

As we began our pilgrimage through a block of residential streets I was struck suddenly by the overwhelming sense of déjà vu. The swing of a particular tree. The way the curb dipped low near the street. The shape of the houses. A parked car. This wasn't déjà vu...

"Wait I know this neighborhood." I racked my mind trying to remember. I'd been here. And furthermore, I'm pretty sure I'd been here within the week.

Rachel pulled up to a curb at a one story house in desperate need of a renovating. I stopped the car four houses down and cut the lights. We watched as she got out of her car and walked up the path toward the house.

"What if shit pops off?"

"Haul ass?" She was not amused by my joke. "I've got some weaponry in my purse."

"You got a gun?"

"Non-lethal. Pepper spray. Taser. Knife."

"I'll take the knife."

"No ma'am."

She smiled. "You're no fun. Fine, give me the taser."

I handed over the taser and put the pepper spray in my pocket just in time for realization to light my brain up like a Christmas tree. "Holy shit."

"What?"

I didn't answer her. I was too busy watching Leonard walk onto his porch and greet Rachel with a panicky demeanor that even a half blind man could read as guilt. Sons of bitches!

"Who is that?"

"That's Peter adopted brother." I was not prepared for this level of tomfoolery. I expected Randy, maybe even Peter himself, but when I'd interviewed Leonard I'd felt he was genuine. But now it seemed like he and Rachel were co-conspirators in whatever schemes Rachel had going. I was about to get out of the car when another car pulled up to the curb in front of Leonard's house. I wasn't shocked when Randy got out and paid the driver before walking up the path.

"Evie, what's our plan?"

"Fuck plans." I opened the door and got out into the cool nights air with Alice right on my heels.

When I stepped on the property all three turned to look at me and I got three of the most surprised, most startled looks I've ever seen—mouths open, eyes wide, brains probably turning in a futile effort to explain their fuckery.

"Having a party," I said as I went to stand in front of them. "Why wasn't I invited. I love a good party."

"Ms. Harper," Rachel was the one to talk first, of course. That was all the confirmation I needed to know who the ringleader was. "What are you doing here?"

"Well let's see. Trying to figure out why three very different people are meeting at damn near eleven o'clock on a Saturday when at least one of them told me they didn't know the other two."

"It's not what you think, we're all just very concerned about Peter."

"Bull. Shit."

"Really, Ms. Harper there's nothing going on."

I didn't mean to, but I chuckled. This shit was comical. "Okay. How 'bout this, either you tell me, or you tell the cops."

Randy threw out a tired little chuckle of his own. "You wouldn't call the police."

I looked him dead in his eyes. "Sir, you don't know me like that. I'll have them motherfuckers light this street up."

"Yeah," Said Alice from beside me. "She will shut this shit down."

"I surely will."

"And her boyfriend's a cop too. He'd empty five rounds into you and plant some drugs without even thinking about that shit."

"It wasn't like that." Said Randy. "Whole thing got out of hand."

"Yeah," Said Leonard. "Come inside. We'll explain everything."

Alice scoffed at the mention of going anywhere with them. "Oh hell no. You can explain it out here."

"It's fifty degrees!"

I glared at him. "Get a jacket."

After Leonard got a jacket the five of us stood around his porch in an uncomfortable silence. "Well?" I said when they were quiet for too long.

Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm not sure where to start."

"How about how well the three of you really know each other."

"We're all friends."

Figures. "Do any of you currently know where Peter is?"

All three shook their heads. "No."

My next question was directed at Rachel. "Why did you hire me?"

"When he disappeared, we really did hope you could find him faster than we could."

"Why all the secrets?" More silence. They didn't know how close they were to pissing me off. "Don't get shy now."

"Yeah!" Alice crossed her arms. "Tell the truth and shame the devil."

Randy cracked first. "It was all Rachel's idea!"

"Nice Randy! Don't pretend like you didn't want the money either."

"Money? What money?"

Randy tried to stutter out an explanation. "Well...Trudy, she..."

"She owed it to us, okay!" Leonard's frazzled voiced rose above the others. "All that shit she put us through. We deserved it. I accepted that I would never get justice, but Peter had proof."

"What kind of proof?"

"When he ran away he stole one of her old cameras. The film was still inside." I didn't need him to expound on what was on the film—we all knew. "Said he took it because he thought it was expensive enough to pawn for cash. Later he found some of her...pictures."

Rachel nodded her collaboration. "I caught him trying to burn it one day and that's when I had the idea."

"What idea?"

"We thought—"

Randy cut her off. "You thought—"

"And you went along with it!"

"Enough!" God, they were giving me 'Nam flashbacks to Pasha and Jackson.

Leonard cleared his throat. "We wanted Peter to exchange the film for money."

"That's conspiracy to commit extortion." Alice was right.

"Which is why we don't want to involve police."

"Who's got the film now?"

"Peter, I assume."

"So what—he tries to blackmail her, they argue, and he beats her over the head?"

Rachel flashed me some sad puppy dog eyes that probably would have worked better on anyone who wasn't me. "Peter didn't kill her."

"So, who did?"

"Derek."

I had suspected. "How would you know?"

"I was there." Oh, Jesus Christ.

"What happened?"

"Everything was going fine," she hugged herself against the cold. "We contacted Trudy and told her we wanted five hundred thousand for the film."

"Five hundred thousand?"

Leonard grimaced. "Trust me, she had it."

I barely heard him. I waited anxiously for Rachel to continue. "She and Peter were negotiating. We thought she would do it, then she dropped the Derek bomb." She let loose an exhausted sigh. "Peter wouldn't cooperate after that."

Leonard shifted his weight from foot to foot and scowled. "Suddenly that five hundred thousand wasn't for the photos, but for him to keep quiet about what she had done to him and me, and Derek."

Rachel nodded. "He refused to leave him there. He was going to call the cops for real."

"What stopped him?"

"He got your phone call."

My call? It took me only a couple of seconds to understand what she meant. Peter and Trudy had been talking before Trudy contacted me. I'd assumed that I was the reason Peter was in contact with Trudy at all, but no. Peter had reached out to Trudy before Trudy came to me. But then why did Trudy come to me?

Randy's face held a deep frown. "Peter went along with the plan at first but being around her again fucked with him. He started drinking again, he wasn't sleeping. He felt like she was manipulating him again. He had decided he wouldn't go through with it. He was done."

"But then I called."

"He decided getting Derek out of there was more important than money or revenge or anything else."

"What happened that night?"

Rachel bit her lip. "He and I drove over to Trudy's house but he made me stay in the car. He was in there for about twenty minutes then he and Derek came out of the house looking kind of rattled. I asked what happened, but Peter told me to just take us home he'd talk about it in the morning."

"And in the morning?"

"They were gone."

Trudy had played me. I'd been caught in the middle of a cat-mouse game with an abuser who used me as a third-party interloper to convince her victim to play ball again. I wasn't the cause of this mess, only one of many pawns she needed to regain control of him. But I wasn't the only one here who played right into her hands. I looked over at Rachel with barely disguised disgust.

Maybe it was true what they say. Abused children grow up to date abusive people. Trudy was a manipulative liar but in her own way so was Rachel. Ultimately this was the sad saga of a man trying desperately to move on from his past but getting dragged back by the people who claimed to love him. But what is love if it forces you to relive the trauma you've tried so hard to forget?

None of that mattered now. Trying to detangle the ethical quagmires of Trudy or Rachel or Leonard or Randy or Peter was a waste of time—the damage had been done.

"I have a plan."

"Well—"

I put my hand up. "Nope! Whatever it is, no. The three of you are going to do exactly what I say. No secrets. No lies. No side plots or whatever. I'm in charge of this thing from now on."

Rachel was frantic. "What do you suggest?"

"Instead of chasing Peter, we're going to lure him to us."

"How?"

"A couple days ago I had a run-in with him."

"And you're just mentioning it—"

"Let me finish. Because of that run-in I'm in possession of his current burner phone number." I took out my phone and pulled up the pictures I'd snapped in Peter's motel room. "I say we get one of you to call him and offer him money."

"Where are we supposed to get money?" Leonard huffed with doubt.

"We'll use the money Rachel was planning to pay me with."

"You'd do that?" She looked at me in disbelief.

"I would."

Randy shook his head. "Why would he come out of hiding for money? He could have called us for cash at any time."

"When I found him, he got out of there so fast he had to leave behind all his stuff. Clothes, fake I.D, petty cash, food—all of it. He can't use his cards because the police are watching. He can't go to the bank either. Right now he has nothing. He'll be desperate."

"So, we bait him."

"Exactly. Rachel's going to make the call."

She bit her lip. "I don't think he'll listen to me."

That's okay. There were two other alternatives. "Which one of you is he most likely to listen to, then?"

"Randy."

"Alright. Then Randy, you're making the call."

"Okay."

"The location we pick needs to be carefully thought out. It needs to be familiar to him but also neutral so it's not going to be any of your homes. It's needs to be relatively public and it needs to be in the daylight hours."

The three of them stood there lost in thought for a moment before Leonard spoke. "There's this park Ken would take us to when we were kids. We used to talk about going back there when he lived with me."

Perfect. "Alright, then here's what we're doing. Early tomorrow morning Randy calls Peter. Feed him some bullshit about how you got his number, it doesn't matter. Offer the money and get him to pick it up at the park. The rest of us will be waiting. I want no exits. I want him caged in like a rat in a trap."

"What if he doesn't show? Or we can't convince him to come home?"

"Then I'm calling it in."

I sounded so self-assured even I believed me.