“What do you mean he’s gone?” I shouted to be heard above the wind, shouted because the cold had numbed my mouth. Mostly, I shouted because I couldn’t believe what was happening. “How can he be gone?”

“Josh, I’m sorry. They’re not in the snackbar. I don’t know where they are.”

“Well, goddamnit, find them!” I hung up and dashed ahead, feeling things spiral out of control. I could apologize to Rachel when we found Kassian.

I came to the end of the trail and broke through the trees. Off to my right, the lights of the Hebrew Home shone brightly. The snow had tapered to flurries, although the wind still howled.

Despite the pain in my hip, I sprinted the last hundred yards to the Home and circled around to the front entrance. In the first row of the parking lot, in the handicapped spaces, I noticed Lev’s SUV, covered with about a half inch of snow. Next to it was Peter’s identical black vehicle, barely dusted. STOX1 and STOX3, side-by-side. Thank God Peter was here to help. I wondered what he would think when he found out what his father had done. All we had to do was find them before it was too late.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach as a sudden, sick realization hit. Maybe Kassian hadn’t seen Lev’s car that morning. Maybe he’d seen Peter’s. They were the same model SUV, same color. Kassian wouldn’t know the difference. I remembered the expression on Lev’s face when I’d told him what Kassian had seen. Had he realized it, too?

I didn’t have a clue why Peter would want my father dead, but my feeling of dread grew. Peter hadn’t seemed his usual self lately. More uptight. I’d interpreted it as concern for his father, but it could have been guilt. Or the fear of being caught. Whatever Peter’s motives, I’m sure they had something to do with my father’s wealth. Peter always was a money guy, always angling for more.

My stomach tumbled again. I’d called Peter to help hunt for Kassian, leading the wolf to the sheep. What would he do if he found him? Silence his only witness for good? I needed to find Kassian, and fast.

I barged through the front doors and tore past the reception desk, ignoring the calls to stop and sign in. There was no sign of anybody: Kassian, Peter, Lev, or Rachel. Just a few residents, their cozy, snowy evening in the lobby interrupted by a crazed madman bursting in from a hike in the frozen woods. My head whipped around, scanning the lobby, in case I’d missed something.

I ran to the snackbar to double-check Rachel. Maybe Kassian and Lev had simply taken a break and gone to the men’s room. Six vending machines, no people. I hustled to the game room. Four old guys and a much younger lady sat around a card table playing poker. No Kassian.

I barreled back into the hallway, still breathing hard from my streak through the woods. Pausing to catch my breath, I removed my gloves and stuffed them into my coat pocket. Put my phone in my jeans pocket. Where was Kassian? Maybe in the TV lounge. As I started across the lobby, I saw Lev go into the men’s room.

I raced after him, caught him washing his hands at the sink. When he spotted me in the mirror, his eyes went wide and he spun around. “Joshua!”

“Where is he? Where’s Kassian?” I moved closer. We were the only ones in the small room. “Come on, I know he’s here somewhere.”

Lev said, “Yes. He’s in the library. The Handleman Library.” Wary, as if he knew he was about to be busted. “Is something wrong?”

“Don’t give me that shit. Where’s Peter? He was the one, wasn’t he? I figured it out. Peter murdered my father.”

Lev stared at me, eyes flat and dead. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.

“How long have you known?” Spittle flew from my lips.

A small downward glance, then his trademarked stone expression reappeared. I felt like slapping it off his smug face. Instead, I grabbed his arm. “Come on, you old fool.” He protested for a moment, then stopped struggling when he realized I meant business. I led him out of the men’s room, gripping his bicep as if he were an eel. We needed to get to Kassian before Peter did. I didn’t know where Peter was, but he couldn’t be far. I perp-walked Lev across the lobby toward the library as fast as we could manage. The pain in my side had waned—I had more important things to concentrate on.

“Josh!” Rachel called out, as she hurried down the hall from the direction of the cafeteria. “You found Lev.”

“We need to get Kassian. I’ll explain when we find him.” I squeezed Lev’s arm and jerked him forward. It must have hurt, but he didn’t utter a sound. “Come on, he’s in the library.” The two of us escorted Lev, one on each side. I could see the questions in Rachel’s eyes, but I didn’t fill her in yet, just pressed on. I wanted Kassian to hear every word about Peter killing my father. I wanted him to know I was sorry for not believing him, for not trusting him.

We were ten feet from the library doors when we heard a giant crash and the sound of breaking glass. I leapt forward, swung open the heavy wood doors, and darted into the library, followed closely by Rachel and Lev. The back windows were shattered, broken glass everywhere, a chair upended. Incongruously, a copper birdbath sat on its side in the middle of the library floor. Above, the two stained-glass panels had been spared, but were hanging slightly off-kilter.

In the midst of the debris, Peter dragged Kassian toward the opening where the window had been, an arm crooked around his captive’s neck. When he saw us, he stopped and straightened, but didn’t let go of Kassian. His face appeared calm, only the blaze in his eyes betrayed his true emotional state. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it before anything came out. What could he say? Get out of here and pretend you never saw this? On my left, Rachel drew quick shallow breaths, one hand covering her mouth, face ashen.

Lev stepped forward. “Peter. Stop this. We know what has happened. It is time for you to be a man and face this.”

“You don’t know what really happened, Pops,” Peter said. The words squeezed out in a strange monotone, as if he were possessed by aliens. He scuttled to a shelf, took his arm away from Kassian’s throat, snatched a book, then threw it at Rachel. It caromed off her thigh and fell to the floor. “Do me a favor, will you? Cram it into the door handles,” Peter said, nodding at the doors to the library. He grabbed Kassian around the throat again.

Rachel stared at the book at her feet.

“Do it. Now,” Peter said, and he slowly pulled his other hand from behind Kassian’s back to reveal a gun, just to show us he was serious. This wasn’t the Peter I knew. This was some kind of crazed-maniac Peter.

Rachel bent over and picked up the book. With trembling hands, she stuffed it between the door handles, effectively locking people out. The cold air rushed into the room through the wide-open holes where the windows had been—Peter’s escape route. Would he kill us all so we wouldn’t talk? Or was he planning to flee to South America and live in hiding like a Nazi?

Lev tried again. “Peter. We know you killed Abe. Kassian saw your car there that morning.”

“It was an accident. An accident. I didn’t mean to kill him. We were talking and he tripped.” Peter pleaded with us to understand his version. I didn’t know what the truth was, but he’d gone to an awful lot of trouble to cover up an accident.

Lev stepped closer to his son. “I know Abe turned you down for a loan. But that was at my insistence. He wanted to give you the money you asked for.” He paused and set his jaw. “I told him not to.”

Peter studied his father, eyes wavering in and out of focus. “You? You told him not to? I needed that money. We needed that money. You think that big house you live in is free, old man? And that car you drive?” Tears formed at the edges of Peter’s eyes.

“Do not lie to me, son. I have overheard many discussions about your sure-fire investments that lose money. The angry people whose money you lost. I knew you were going down the wrong path. I tried to warn you. Do not take risks with your money. Do not take risks with other people’s money. But you did not listen. Instead, you gambled. And you lost.” Lev remained stone-faced. He clasped his hands behind his back, like a professor delivering a lecture to his class. “You brought shame to all of us.”

Rachel reached out and took my hand. Squeezed it. I squeezed back, then pulled it away. It was because of me that Kassian was in this position. I wasn’t going to let him die, not if I could help it. I inched forward. Peter still had an arm around Kassian’s neck with the gun in his back. But Peter’s eyes were glued to Lev.

Lev shifted slightly to his right, away from me, as he spoke. “I wanted you to live up to your own responsibilities and obligations. No one named Yurishenko takes charity. We work honestly for what we have. And we take care of things in our own house.” He slowly shook his head. “Ironic, isn’t it? That my beliefs cost the life of my best friend.”

Peter brought the gun up to Kassian’s head. Waved it around. “It was an accident,” he said, voice hoarse.

Lev held out his hand and stepped forward. “Give me the gun, Peter. Let him go. It is time to be a man. Be brave and accept what you deserve.”

Peter stared at his father. I wasn’t sure if what Lev said sunk in, or whether Peter was too far gone for anything to make sense. Either way, he didn’t give up the gun or release Kassian. He dragged Kassian back a couple of steps toward the hole in the wall, feet crunching on broken glass. “Charity? You didn’t seem to have any problem sponging off of me.”

“You are my son. That is what sons do. Perhaps I did not raise you right.” Lev pointed at Peter. “Because I have raised a cowardly murderer.”

Peter aimed his gun at Lev and stepped back, but slipped on the glass. He let go of Kassian as he thrust his arms out to regain his balance. I lunged forward and drove my shoulder into Peter’s chest, propelling all three of us into the window frame. The impact knocked the stained glass panels loose and they crashed to the floor in an explosion of brightly colored glass pieces.

We fell as one into a heap on the floor. Kassian rolled off the pile and I felt Lev dive into the fray next to me and I lay atop Peter, clawing and scratching after the gun in his hand, finally getting both hands on his wrist where I twisted and squeezed and pried, bending back his fingers, their snapping noises spurring me on. Lev pummeled Peter’s face with a series of punches. Rachel’s screams provided the soundtrack for our struggle, until a loud roar echoed in the room. Peter’s gun discharged, the bullet flying through the window opening into the black night.

I had to get the gun.

I redoubled my effort, kneeing Peter in the groin, putting all of my weight behind it. Then I elbowed him in the face. Twice. He lost his grip on the gun and it went sliding away on the tiled floor. My hand reached for it but touched something else on the floor, and my fingers closed around it, a razor-sharp shard of dazzling blue glass. I held it tightly in my raised hand, summoning the strength to ram it into Peter’s chest when I heard Rachel scream, “Stop. Stop. He’s got the gun. Everybody stop.”

I held my hand steady and glanced to my side. There was Kassian, good ol’ Kassian, holding Peter’s gun with two shaking hands. Inside the library, everything went quiet. Outside, in the lobby, there was banging and yelling and more banging on the library doors. Kassian pointed the gun vaguely in Peter’s direction.

I scrambled to my feet, still holding the triangular glass dagger, a thin trail of red in my palm. I stared at the blood, thankful for Kassian’s intervention. I’d been about to kill another human being. I felt Lev, next to me, remove the glass from my hand, but I stared down at Peter, who lay motionless on the ground. His eyes were shut, but I could see his chest rise and fall. Battered and bruised, he was still alive.

Kassian inched closer to us, fingers gripping the gun so tightly his knuckles were white. It danced in his hands.

“Kassian. Put the gun down. Please.” He turned toward me, and the barrel of the gun followed his eyes. Both pointed in my direction. “Hey, watch it. Put it down.”

He looked at his hands and his eyes grew wide for a second, as if he’d just noticed what he was holding. Then he brought the gun up slowly and aimed it at Lev. The barrel wobbled, but he kept it focused on Lev’s chest.

Lev remained still. No evasive maneuvers, no expression of fear—or of anything else. He glanced from Kassian to Peter, then back to Kassian.

I eased between Kassian and Lev. Reached my hand out. Shut out everything in the room, everything in my world. The screaming and the banging and the timpani of my pounding heart. Concentrated on one thing: the gun.

Kassian’s finger trembled against the trigger guard.

I held my breath and extended my arm, placing my hand on top of the gun, bracing for the explosion. Slowly I pushed the barrel down so that it aimed at the floor. Exhaled.

Motion on my right caught my eye. In a flurry of waving arms, Lev toppled over onto Peter. Peter gasped, then twitched, finally going limp beneath Lev.

“Oh, shit,” I said, as I hauled Lev up. “Shit, shit, shit.” Peter lay there, the shard of dazzling blue glass embedded in his neck. Blood streamed from the gash, pooling on the floor beside him. Lev knelt next to his son and grasped his hand, chanting something in Russian.

Rachel ran for the doors, yanked the book from the handles, and flung the doors open. “Call 911. See if there are any doctors around. And call some nurses. We’ve got a man hurt in here. Hurry.” I could hear her in the hall, answering questions and taking charge.

I stood there, transfixed. Kassian huddled in a corner, hands over his head. He hadn’t seen a thing, no doubt. Lev prayed over his dying son. Had he tripped, or had it been intentional? I replayed what I saw several times and honestly didn’t know. It all happened too fast.

Finished barking orders for now, Rachel joined me in the library and we locked eyes. I could see the unanswered question deep within her, and in that instant, I realized she didn’t know what really happened either. We’d both been standing right there, but we didn’t know the truth. We didn’t know the truth about many things.

Maybe it was better that way.