“So that night at the steak restaurant, Rashida was already inside when Mint arrived?” Nola asked.
“Mint had forgotten his jacket in the car. As he went back outside and saw the valet stealing his ride, he—and Rashida—jumped into a nearby taxi. When Zion pulled the trigger, she was in the back seat, right next to Mint.”
“Why didn’t they just leave her body in the car?”
“They were panicking,” Waggs explained. “Huck was actually in the neighborhood, waiting for Zion to call with a thumbs-up. So when Zion called in full freak-out, they knew they only had a few minutes. And Huck knew if her body was found with his dad’s . . . if his mom found out the two of them were together . . . He said he was trying to protect Rashida’s family, too, so he begged Zion and, well . . . Zion said for five grand, he’d take care of it. He told Huck to stay away, then called his cousin and they dragged Rashida’s body into his cousin’s car. Huck had no idea he’d drive it out to the airport and light it on fire later that night. Again, they were panicking.”
Nola thought about that, telling herself that the actions of a teenager somehow made sense. “If it helps, you did the right thing.”
Waggs laughed, a deep laugh that reached her belly. “Oh, that’s very sweet that you think I feel guilty. You think I’m a better person than I am. The real truth is, my bosses would never let us prosecute a crap show like this. At best, they’d make a deal with Huck—have him pin the killing on Zion, and in exchange, as a minor, thank him with a non-pros,” she said, referring to a non-prosecution agreement. “All I’m doing is saving myself the months of paperwork that’ll leave me in the exact same spot I’m in now. I can live with it, though. As Huck’s about to learn, the worst prisons are the ones we create for ourselves.”
“You may be right.”
“I’m definitely right,” Waggs said, pulling a thumb drive from her pocket. “Huck gave me this. A screen recording from his last meeting with Zion on Black House. He was hoping to get Zion to confess on tape, that’s why they were meeting. Zion wasn’t that dumb, of course—but Huck was trying to get proof, to set things right, even if it meant turning himself in.”
Nola nodded, still staring at the rearview, back at the manicured lawns that ringed the cul-de-sac. “One last question,” Nola said. “The valet who stole Mint’s car and broke into the house . . . Zion attacked him—”
“Zion mistakenly thought the valet was Mint. That’s what you get for stealing cars.”
“So in the end . . .”
“Wrong place, wrong time. For the valet, he just got hit by some bad luck.”
“Like a lightning rod?” Nola challenged.
Waggs turned at the words. “Listen, I shouldn’t’ve called you that.”
“I don’t need your apology.”
“I didn’t say you did. But if it makes you feel better, well . . . did you know that Ben Franklin originally did his kite experiment because he noticed that terrible fires were being caused when church steeples got hit by lightning? Thanks to him, the very first lightning rods were installed on roofs all around Philadelphia. When you think about it, those metal rods don’t cause the problem—they take the beating, protecting everything close to them.”
Nola sat there a moment, about to say something, then deciding against it. Turning back to the rearview, she eyed the EMTs as they helped Mrs. Mint onto the stretcher for her ride to the hospital.
“Really staying till the end of the credits, huh?” Waggs teased.
“If you want, I can leave.”
“I’m just pointing out, you and Mint . . . you two must’ve been pretty close, huh? I mean, the way you threw yourself into this case. The way you’re watching now . . . If I die, promise you’ll avenge me, too.”