"Careful," I called. "We've had one collapse."
"Kind of a safety hazard, don't you think?"
"We just bought the land," I said. "We haven't gotten to the demolition part."
He grunted. "Good. I was afraid you were renting them like this."
"I should hope not."
"Never know. Where I'm from, sometimes, this is what you get."
I walked over, Jack beside me, the dogs trailing along.
"Speaking of where you're from . . ." I said. "You want us to help someone you know. But you also suggested you live someplace without easy access to the outside world. So how'd you know your friend was in trouble?"
"I have ways. It's not exactly regular contact. She's been dealing with this shit for months, and I just found out."
"And 'she' is . . . ?" I said.
Cypher settled on a log pulled over by an ancient fire pit.
"It's a woman," he said.
"I guessed that from the pronoun."
"That's really all there is to say. It's a woman. Someone from my past, from when I was young and stupid. Someone . . ." He shrugged. "Sometimes sticking around isn't an option, and as much as you might want to, you realize that the right thing to do is walk away. Doesn't mean I stopped caring. So I keep tabs on her."
"And she's in trouble."
"Yeah. You hear about that family court shit in Honolulu?"
"Hawaii?"
"Is there another one?" He planted his feet farther apart. "That's where she lives, and I'm guessing by your answer that you haven't heard of the case. Some sicko has been targeting people who work for the family courts."
"Didn't something like that happen in Australia? Years ago?"
"I don't doubt it. In our job, we get asked to do some ugly shit. To me, though, there's nothing uglier than the guys--and gals--who want us to off their exes. Not because the ex is a nasty piece of shit. Not even because they want revenge. But because of the divorce. Kill your wife so you don't have to pay alimony. Kill your husband so you don't have to sell your home. And the absolute fucking worst: kill your partner so you get the kids."
"All of which is handled by family courts," I said. "They make a ruling, and one party is bound to be unhappy with it. So that's what this is. Someone's taking it out on the court representatives."
He nodded. "Three people are dead. All had a connection to the family courts. This woman I'm worried about? She's a family court lawyer."
"You're afraid she'll be targeted?" I asked.
"No, she is being targeted. The damn fool--" He shook his head. "She's put herself right in the middle of this. A lawyer's kid got killed, so he quit his cases. No one would take them except her. Then her dog . . ." He glanced at Scout and Rex and lowered his voice as if they could hear. "Bastard killed her dog and put a bomb in her car. Pretty soon her boyfriend--asshole coward--lit out, deciding he wasn't taking the risk. So she's lost her dog, her boyfriend, nearly lost her life, and you think she'll give up those cases? Fuck no."
"You talk to her?" Jack said, his first words since we got here.
Cypher shook his head. "It's . . . complicated. Stuff like that, when you leave, you can't make contact again. It isn't safe. Or that's the excuse you give yourself, when the truth is that you know if you do call, she'll hang up. Better to say you're keeping her safe by staying away. You know how it is."
Jack grunted as if he did. When Jack and I got together, though, he'd admitted that he hadn't had a relationship since he was sixteen . . . right before he signed up with Irish resistance fighters, who made the IRA look like Greenpeace. After that--and the fallout from his exit a few years later--he wouldn't let anyone take the risk that came with being part of a hitman's life. Even for me, being with Jack put a target on my back, and it'd taken a long time to convince him that I was okay with that.
Right now, though, someone else wore a target, for an entirely different reason--a good and brave and righteous one.
"So this woman . . ." I said.
"Angela. Her name's Angela."