“IT’S ALREADY over, Red. Everything’s going to come out sooner or later. You might as well tell me now.”

“Goddamn you, Cooper. Get me a drink first.”

“Tell me, then I’ll buy you a bottle.”

“You’re going to owe me more than that. Too bad I’ll never have the chance to collect, because my body will be rotting in the Pine Barrens.” Red ordered a drink anyway. Another whiskey sour. The bartender made a half-hearted attempt to intervene, maybe show those two the door. But Red waved him off, grumbling about the bartender not stepping in a few minutes ago when Cooper Lamb was kicking his ass. Neither Cooper nor Veena cared for another drink. Bad idea to pour alcohol on top of all that adrenaline.

“In a way, you two were right. This was about Archie Hughes.”

“How?” Veena asked.

“Archie was supposed to throw the NFC game, and—poof!—his debts would vanish. Complete reset.”

“The Sables agreed to this deal?” Cooper asked.

“The Sables came up with this deal! The way they tell it, it was the only solution to an impossible situation. Yeah, the team loses, boo-hoo. Philadelphia is used to losing. Nothing new there. But Archie has the boot taken off his neck, the Mob gets its money, and the Sables recoup their losses and then some, so it all should have worked out fine.”

“But it didn’t,” Veena said. “Because someone killed Archie before he could throw the game.”

“Do you finally see what I mean? Why would the Mob kill the man at the center of the plan? No, this was something else. A fluke, dumb freakin’ luck, punishment from God, who the hell knows. The rest of us have to deal with the aftermath. Including you two.”

“What do you mean? Why us two?” Cooper asked.

“You two are loose ends. And now maybe I’m a loose end too.”

Cooper realized Red Doyle wasn’t being a prick—he was terrified. In his own way, he had been trying to steer them away from this situation before it was too late. But now, with a dead (alleged) Mob triggerman rapidly cooling outside on the boardwalk, there was no turning back. They would have to see this through to the end.

Cooper put a hand on Red Doyle’s shoulder. “Hey, we still good?”

Red turned to Cooper and opened his eyes wide in genuine surprise; he looked as if Cooper had just told him that he’d won the Pennsylvania Lottery and then that he had terminal cancer.

“You’re unbelievable, Lamb. You know that?”