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“True.” He shot me a look. “Like I said, conspiracy.”
“Who did the cops question, anyway?” I asked. “They’d said they had a suspect.”
“If you ask me, the suspect thing was all bullshit. They arrested some guy from around here, Deacon somebody, and let him go after twenty-four hours.” He shook his head. “They should’ve been questioning other people.”
“Like who?” I finished my sangria.
Max stayed silent for a long moment before finally meeting my gaze. “Definitely Fitz. Logan Fitzgerald.”