"You don't want to do this, Blake," Palmer said through clenched teeth. His pony tail made a convenient handle for my left hand, while my right held the knife at his throat. "That's where you're wrong, Wade," I said. "Nothing would please me more. I lost an old friend tonight, and I think you pulled the trigger." A gulp rode under the knife blade and Palmer lied "I don't know what you mean..." I pressed the blade harder and said "if you don't tell the truth from here on out, I will kill you."

"OK...it was Martell," he said, "Martell had a trigger man do it. I don't know who he used." I yanked his hair back and said "yes you do." I turned his head slightly so I could see his eyes. Tears were running down his cheeks as he said "maybe it was Lenny Berrigan. Martell hired him...once before."

"You bastard!" I said. "Who was it before? Tell it all!"

"If I tell you I'm a dead man," he sniveled. "You're a dead man now if you don't," I said.

"It was Bobby Washington. Martell had him hit. I didn't want any part of it, though. You know Three Hands was my friend, Blake!" I felt the blood rush to my head, my breath coming in short gasps. For a second I was tempted to kill Palmer on the spot. Instead, I said "tell me why."

"LaTourneau? I think it was because he was getting too close."

"And Washington?"

Palmer took a deep breath. "The sauce, man. It's a gold mine. And it was Bobby Washington's recipe."