Chapter 13: Five Minutes

I did not go alone.

Leah drove, Cavan sat in the back with the folder on his knees, and we pulled into the lot behind Hoyt's office at ten past noon.

Pelham was on the door in white letters, under the name of a building-supply firm.

His gray sedan was parked by the loading dock with the engine running.

Someone was sitting in the passenger seat.

"That's her," Leah said.

I could see the cream cardigan through the glass.

"She followed him to work," Cavan said.

"She drove with him to work," I said. "Look at the mirror. He's got her son's booster seat in the back."

Hoyt came out of the side door at that moment, loosening his tie, and he stopped when he saw us climb out of the car.

I walked toward him with the folder against my chest, and Leah stayed one step behind my shoulder.

"Audrey," he said. "You can't be here."

"I need five minutes."

"Not now. Danielle is in the car."

"I know. I need five minutes anyway."

He glanced at the sedan, and then at the dock where two men in work vests had stopped talking.

"Five," he said.

I held out the folder.

"Open it."

"What is it?"

"Daniel's death certificate, and the report from the people who came to his house."

He did not move.

His hand came up toward the keys in his pocket and stopped.

"Read the first page, Hoyt."

"I know how he died."

"Then it won't hurt to read it."

"Fine."

He took the folder.

He read the first page standing in the cold, and I watched his eyes go down the lines and back up to the top.

Cavan had come to stand beside me.

Hoyt did not look at him.

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