none of my business.
It's fine. The answer is both.
Do you think Tatum Knight is lying to you?
That's what I'm wrestling with.
For what it's worth, I hope you do get involved in this.
Why?
I don't even know this woman, so it seems almost silly to say I care. But on some level, I feel drawn into it. Her whole life's a tragedy, really.
He glanced at her computer and said, Sounds like you found a few things on Sally Fenning.
You told me she was attacked a few years ago. But there's more to it than that.
That's all Tatum told me.
He left out the most important part. She flipped through her notes, then took a moment to bring him up to speed on the original attack, the death of her daughter. Jack listened in silence, wondering why Tatum hadn't shared these details. Assuming he knew.
That's horrible, said Jack.
Yes. It is.
But it might help explain some things, said Jack. Maybe she couldn't cope with the murder of her only child. She marries some rich older man, thinking maybe money would make her happy. But it only makes her more miserable. So she finally hires someone to kill her.
Which means that perhaps Tatum is telling you the truth. She did ask him to kill her.
Or maybe he's only telling me a half truth. Maybe she asked him to kill her. And he didn't say no.
Possible, said Kelsey. Except that I don't totally buy it.
Why not? said Jack. If something happened to Nate, God forbid, don't you think it would at least cross your mind that life isn't worth living?
Not under Sally's circumstances.
How do you mean?
If something horrible like that happened to my child, I wouldn't rest till the day they nailed the guy who did it.
You mean they never caught the guy who killed Sally's daughter?
Never even an arrest. This afternoon I called to see if I could pull the file out of police archives, but I got nowhere. It hasn't been archived. It's still technically an open investigation.
Interesting, said Jack, the wheels turning in his head. This woman suffers the worst tragedy imaginable. Her four-year-old daughter is murdered viciously in her own home. Five years go by, she's just gotten her hands on forty-six million dollars, compliments of her second husband, and that's when she decides that life isn't worth living.
Assuming Tatum is to be believed.
That's the big assumption, said Jack.
So what are you going to do?
The meeting with Vivien Grasso is Monday. That doesn't leave me a lot of time, so I guess I'll do the only thing I can.
Dump the case, move on?
No way. He took one last hit of coffee, then looked her in the eye and said, I'm going to find out if Tatum Knight is believable.
Chapter Seven First thing Saturday morning, Theo Knight drove to Mo's Gym on Miami Beach.
The Beach had a long boxing tradition, dating back even before a young and overconfident Cassius Clay trained and fought there to snatch the world heavyweight title away from the most feared champion of his era, Sonny Liston. Mo's was a no-frills facility that catered strictly to amateurs. Not the kind of amateurs who flocked to self-defense classes after the September 11 terrorist attacks. These were serious tough guys, amateurs only in the sense that they had no license to box and didn't at all aspire to be the next Muhammad Ali. They just loved to go at it, man to man, and Mo's was good training for the more important fighting they did outside the ring. Anyone who walked into Mo's had better know the ropes, so to speak, and he had better not freak at the sight of his own blood.
Theo found a chair near the center ring, where his brother, Tatum, was beating the holy hell out of someone who obviously had no idea who the Knight brothers were.
Theo and Tatum had fought plenty, no ring, no gloves, no glory. Toughing it out with gangs wasn't exactly the life Theo would have chosen for himself, but the illegitimate sons of a drug addict didn't have many choices. Their aunt did her best to raise Theo and his older brother, but with five of her