Page 41 of Dirty Liars

“Did Theo know about Dickie?”

“Sure,” Max said. “It didn’t bother him. He wasn’t in love with her. And he always had companionship whenever he wanted it, so he wasn’t hurting. I don’t think he ever really got over his ex-wife. Blamed himself ever since the divorce.”

“We were told Chloe only invited two people to the wedding,” I said. “Dickie was one of them. Do you know who the other was?”

Max hesitated a moment, and then said, “Yeah, I know him. Nice kid, about her age. Name’s Emmett Parker. Started coming around about a month before the wedding. Chloe seemed pretty happy to see him—obviously someone she’d known for a while.”

“Where’d he come from?” Jack asked.

“No idea,” Max said. “I only met him a couple of times. Clean-cut kid, very polite. Quiet type. He and Chloe spent a lot of time talking when he’d visit. He made her laugh, and there was far too little laughter in her life. Theo didn’t seem to mind him being around. I got the impression Emmett was like a little brother to her. I figured maybe they’d worked together back when she was waiting tables. He mentioned once that he was a student.”

“Got a contact for him?” Jack asked.

Max picked up his phone from the counter, scrolled through it, then wrote down a number on a pad of paper. “This is the number I have for him. I don’t know where he lives.”

“What was your gut feeling on this Emmett kid?” Jack asked.

Max shrugged. “He seemed all right. No red flags that I could see. Wasn’t in love with her like Harlowe was, so he wasn’t desperate to impress or get her attention. Just seemed like they had a connection.”

Jack nodded, making a note of the information. “We pulled the security footage from The Mad King. You dropped Theo and Chloe off right after midnight, but you didn’t check into the Holiday Inn until one thirty. That’s a long time delay for a twenty-minute drive.”

Max’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered behind his eyes. “I stopped at Briggs’s Bar on the way. Figured I’d try to get lucky since I had a few hours before I had to be back. Had a couple of drinks, struck up a conversation with a redhead who looked promising, but she’d had too much to drink and nothing came of it. So I left and checked into the Holiday Inn.”

“How’d you know Theo and Chloe were dead?” I asked.

Max’s jaw tightened. “I went back to pick them up for the airport the next morning. Arrived at seven thirty, checked in at the front desk. They tried to call the villa, but no answer. The manager—Harris—got concerned after a few tries and suggested we go check on them. I didn’t like it. Theo’s always punctual. We took one of those golf carts out to the villa.”

He paused, and I saw something haunted cross his face. “Harris used his master key. We found Theo first, in the master bedroom. Single shot to the head. Blood everywhere. Called out for Chloe, but somehow…I already knew. Found her in the second bedroom.”

He cleared his throat. “I’ve seen combat. I’ve seen men blown apart by IEDs. What they did to her…that wasn’t just killing. That was sending a message.”

“Do you know what the message was?” Jack pressed.

Max’s eyes hardened. “If I did, I’d be hunting them myself instead of sitting here talking to you.”

“Theo and Chloe both had a tattoo on the bottom of their foot,” I said. “Know anything about that?”

“There’s a lot I don’t know about either of them,” Max said, but his careful non-answer told me he knew exactly what the tattoo meant.

“I was sent by Nicholas to protect them. And now they’re both dead. I told Theo I needed to stay that night. It doesn’t do any good to have a bodyguard when you send him away.”

“Is that what the two of you talked about when you dropped them off?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Max said. “I was trying to get him to change his mind. Their villa had two bedrooms. But he said they would be fine for one night, and that I’d see them a few hours later when it was time to go to the airport. There wasn’t much I could do but leave. I checked into a hotel so I could stay close by. But it wasn’t close enough to save them.”

His hands tightened around his water bottle. “You know what gets me? I’m good at what I do. Been keeping people alive for thirty years. And the one time I’m not there—the one time I follow orders instead of my gut—this happens.”

“You could save me time and help me find the killers faster if you didn’t hold out on me,” Jack said. “You know more than you’re saying.”

“I was a Ranger,” Max said, his dark eyes intent on Jack’s. “My career has always been about knowing more than I say. If you’re as good as your file claims, then you don’t need me. Others might think differently, but sometimes self-preservation is more important than trying to stop a machine that can never be dismantled.”

“The truth is always more important than our personal wants,” Jack told him.

“There we disagree,” Max said. “I learned that the hard way. I’ll show you out.”

He stood, and we followed him out onto his narrow balcony, the afternoon sun glinting against the orange tile roof of Theo’s house. The spiral staircase loomed ahead, a descent into shadows. Jack turned to hand him a card when a deafening crack split the air.

Time seemed to slow. I caught a flash of movement, the impact of the bullet striking Max’s skull, the spray of blood and brain matter hitting my face like warm rain. Max crumpled to the ground in front of us, his body going instantly lifeless. I stood frozen, blood dripping down my cheek, my mind struggling to process what had just happened.

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