“Yes, ma’am. I practice law in Atlanta.” Kell sipped at the nearly solid liquid, grains of sugar floating amidst errant bits of pulp. Repressing a cough, she asked, “You’ve lived here for a while, haven’t you, Mrs. Harris?”
The creased face squinted in the dimly lit room. A naked bulb shone from a tabletop lamp, a poor partner to the overhead fixture clouded with dust. Behind thick bifocals, Mrs. Harris peered into Kell’s face, bending forward until they were nearly nose to nose.
“I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” she muttered in stereo. “You’re Doreen and Nate’s child, aren’t you?”
“They were my parents,” she replied neutrally.
“Sorrier waste of flesh I don’t know I’ve ever seen. Best thing they ever did in life was send you to Eliza,” she announced in her booming voice. “Never came back for you, did they?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Good riddance, I say. Peddling Doreen’s skin for money like a pimp. Nate had a mind as sharp as a tack. Figured out early how to get that girl to make his money for him.”
“I’d rather not talk about my parents, Mrs. Harris,” Kell interjected. With a cursory look at Luke, she prompted, “I’m here to ask you about Clay Griffin.”
“Told Luke here the same thing I’ll tell you. Don’t wish death on any one of God’s creatures. But that boy had a streak of pure evil in him, sure as I’m sitting here. Whoever took his life didn’t do much a sin, Lord forgive me.” She punctuated her plea by pressing a beringed hand to her heart. “Sold dope right out on the street every night. Tried to recruit my grandson to help him. Ran him off with my shotgun.”
“Mrs. Harris is quite the marksman,” Luke complimented. He touched Kell’s shoulder lightly in warning as he took over questioning. “You were telling me earlier about Clay in the last few weeks.”
Mrs. Harris took a deep draught from her lemonade. “My grandson told me about him. How Clay had been flashing more money around here. Tony thought he had expanded his territory.”
“Tony Delgado?” Kell asked.
Narrowing her eyes, Mrs. Harris cocked her head. “How do you know my grandson?”
“I met him outside,” Kell explained quickly. “He was with some other boys.”
“Hoodlums, more likely. Probably with that Doc Reed. One of Clay’s salesmen.” She sneered the description.
That conformed with her brief exposure to Doc. She said to Mrs. Harris, “Tony mentioned he wants to become a lawyer.”
The broad face broke into a crooked smile. “His father is a hard worker, married my Viola twenty years ago. Raised that boy right. Mostly. Goes to class, gets good grades. Smart as a whip.”
Kell smiled appreciatively. “You must be proud.”
“I am.”
Knowing how Mrs. Harris loved to brag about her grandson, Luke steered them back on topic. “Did Tony tell you where Clay’s new territory was?”
Mrs. Harris shifted her focus to him. “He didn’t know. All Clay would tell him was that he had found a better score. Not drugs. Offered Tony a job working with him on it.”
“Tony said no?” Luke set his untouched lemonade on the coffee table. He figured consuming a second glass would lead to diabetic shock. The news about Clay’s change in career didn’t jibe with the intel he’d received from Graves. “When was this?”
“About a month or so ago. Tony went with him to a plant to meet Clay’s employers, but he said they didn’t seem quite right.”
“Were they selling drugs, Mrs. Harris?” Kell rested a hand on the older woman’s where it lay on the plastic cover. “Did Clay ask him to help?”
“Tony said they weren’t into drugs. But he couldn’t figure out what they wanted him to do. All Clay told him was that he’d have to run a few errands for them before he could be trusted with more responsibility.”
“Can he identify the men he met with?” An eyewitness to potential suspects other than Eliza would legitimate a shift in his focus.
Kell had the same thought. Urgently, she asked, “Did he describe the men to you? Where he went?”
“Now, hold on,” Mrs. Harris demanded. “I agreed to talk to you, but I’m not putting my only grandchild in trouble. Sheriff, if you plan to arrest my Tony for going on a job interview—”
Luke stood and stepped over Kell to crouch beside Mrs. Harris. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “Tony didn’t do anything wrong. Kell and I think he may have seen something that can help us figure out who wanted to harm Clay.”
Astute eyes studied Kell’s. “This one won’t spare my grandson if she’s got someone else to look after.”
Kell stiffened at the accusation. “I wouldn’t let another man go to prison to protect my client, Mrs. Harris. Unlike my parents, I do have scruples.”
“Not that I’ve seen on television. Anybody who watched that trial knew Brodie was guilty as homemade sin.” Mrs. Harris took another drink from her nearly empty glass. Worry crept into her voice. “You made that jury believe what they wanted to believe. How do I know you won’t trick my Tony into saying something that will get him in trouble? What do you care if he winds up hurt? What do you know about protecting somebody’s child?”
“I won’t allow her to do anything to harm Tony, Mrs. Harris.” Luke patted her hand. “You’ve got my word on that.”
Hackles raised, Kell stood. “While I appreciate the sheriff’s pledge to you, Mrs. Harris, I don’t need to manipulate a defenseless boy to defend my client. I wouldn’t put your grandson in harm’s way. I’m not my parents—I do have some integrity.” She spun away and hurried to the door.
“Wait a second!” Mrs. Harris called out.
Kell ignored the summons and grabbed the doorknob. Unfortunately, the elderly woman had secured the door against any possible intruder with three deadbolts and a chain. By the time Kell finished undoing the final lock, Luke had levered Mrs. Harris from the sofa.
Surprisingly firm hands settled on her shoulders. Mrs. Harris didn’t attempt to turn her, but simply held her still. “I apologize, Miss. That was wrong of me. We each make ourselves up. We borrow from people that we meet, from what we see in the world around us. You took something from those two ne’er-do-wells who brought you into this world. And another piece of you came from Eliza. Heck, standing here right now, something of me is adding to who you are.”
Kell turned. “I won’t hurt your grandson, Mrs. Harris.”
“Okay. I’ll believe you.” She leaned heavily on Kell as they slowly returned to the couch. “Luke, go fetch my phone.”
Luke completed his errand and handed the receiver to her. She punched in a phone number. “Viola? Send Tony down to see me.”
“Is everything alright?” her daughter asked.
“Right as rain. Tell him I need to see him now.”
“Does this have something to do with why the sheriff is at your house?”
“You live two blocks away. How’d you know about that?”
“Tony told me. Is he in trouble?”
Mrs. Harris watched Kell as she responded, “No. The sheriff has questions for him. I’ll be right here to listen to his answers.”
Luke led the women into small talk while they waited for Tony to arrive. A timid knock sounded at the door, and he got up to let the teenager inside.
He began to greet him, but before he could, Tony babbled, “Sheriff, I tried to warn Doc not to mess with her, I swear. I didn’t come and get you ’cause I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
Behind Luke, Kell frantically tried to catch Tony’s darting, distressed glance. “Tony, please come here.”
The young man rushed over to her, his expression wreathed in apology. “I’m sorry, Ms. Jameson. Really.”
“Sorry for what?” Luke demanded. “What the hell happened out there?”
“Nothing important,” soothed Kell. She crossed to Luke and touched his shoulder. In an undertone, she hissed, “We’ll discuss it in the truck. Sit down.”
Luke glared down at h
er, then took a breath. “Later,” he warned.
“Later,” she agreed quickly. “Tony, thank you for your help this evening. Now, the sheriff and I have a few questions for you about Clay.”
As he had earlier, Tony paled at the mention of Clay’s name. He cut a look at his grandmother. “I don’t know anything about him.”
“Stop lying, boy. I’ve already told them about the job offer.” Mrs. Harris swatted at his leg. “What have I told you about lying?”
“To not say too much when I do,” he answered smartly.
Mrs. Harris chuckled. “And not to tell strangers that your grandma taught you how to lie.” She pointed to the chair that sat next to her post on the sofa. “Sit down and tell the sheriff what you told me.”
Warily, Tony took his assigned seat. “Um, Clay tried to recruit me to work for him a while ago, but I said I couldn’t. My folks would have killed me.”
“Of course.” Kell smiled warmly. “I understand from your grandmother that you’re doing well in school.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m planning to go to college next year. If we can find the money.”
Luke picked up the thread. “So when Clay told you he’d gotten a better job, one that wasn’t about dealing, you were interested.”
Kell frowned, bothered by the story. “Why did he offer the job to you, Tony? You’d already turned him down once. I would think Doc would be a better candidate to work with Clay.”
“Clay didn’t trust Doc.” Tony explained, “Last year, they got into a fight because Doc was skimming profits. Not enough so Clay could prove it, but we all heard about it.”
“Is that why he came to you?” Luke asked.
“That and I’ve got a car. My dad and I rebuilt the engine last summer.”
“He needed someone with their own transportation,” he surmised.
Tony’s head bobbed nervously. “He came to pick me up for the interview with his employers.”
“Where did you go?” Kell eased forward until she could watch Tony’s eyes in the light.
“A place off of County Road is all I know. When we got close, I had to put on a hood.”
Luke probed, “Why did Clay say that was necessary?”
“He said the project they were working on was confidential. Until I got hired, I couldn’t know the location.”
“But you remember it was off County Road,” confirmed Kell.
“Yeah. Seemed stupid to make me wear the hood though. Clay called the place an office, but where we stopped was more like a metal shed. He took me inside to meet with these two men in suits.”
“Can you describe them?” For the first time, Luke pulled out a small notebook. “Tell me what you remember.”
“The first guy was skinny and really, really white. Had these blue eyes that almost had no color. Brown hair, but stringy like. Second guy was black. Built kind of like you, Sheriff, like a running back, only shorter.”
“Anything else you remember?”
“It was kind of weird. There was a third man, but he stayed in the back, behind this wall. Like the guy in the Wizard of Oz. He didn’t ask any questions most of the time, but he did speak once.”
“Did you recognize the voice?”
“Not exactly. It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t tell why.”
“Would you know it if you heard it again?”
“Don’t think so. I’m not great with that stuff.” Concerned, he focused on Kell. “Do lawyers have to be able to do that? Recognize voices?”
“No.” Kell offered another encouraging smile. “But the best ones can recall details. Close your eyes, Tony.”
He did so immediately. “What now?”
“Picture the first man. Tell me about his clothes.”
“Suit. Blue with the white pinstripes. Had on a tie that matched his eyes, that blue. Like ice. He wore a ring on his pinky finger, gold with a ruby. Had some writing on it.” Tony’s eyes popped open. “I remember thinking that I might get one too.”
“Why?”
“Because the black guy had one too. Same ring, only his stone was green. An emerald.”
“How do you know they were the same ring?”
“The writing on them. Both had a symbol, like a”—he closed his eyes again, squinting to recall the memory—“a triangle with a circle cutting through the bottom of it.”
The description set off alarm bells in Luke’s head. He’d seen that symbol himself recently. Where eluded him for now, so he concentrated on the boy’s story. “Tony, why didn’t you take the job?”
Chagrined, Tony squirmed beneath the sheriff’s inquiring look. He’d sound like a punk if he told the truth. But one look from his grandmother had him squaring his shoulders, prepared to be embarrassed. “I liked the suits and the rings, man. I mean, Sheriff. Both of them looked sharp, and even Clay didn’t look like a druggie much anymore. But they gave me the creeps.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” He frowned. “All the James Bond stuff was weird. They told me I’d be in security at their plant. When I asked where the plant was, that’s when the voice in the back spoke. He told me that I’d find out everything I needed to know later.”
“What did they say they produced?” Kell asked quietly.
“Wouldn’t tell me. And when I asked where the plant was, they wouldn’t tell me that either.” He shook his head. “Didn’t seem right. I finished talking to them and Clay drove me back to the District. He came by the next day, and I told him I’d rather not. He told me I was being stupid.”
“Why?”
“He said that drugs were the old way to get rich, that he’d found a better way. Legit, you know?”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Said that the deal was he had to provide his own staff. He liked me because I didn’t sell with Doc or the others. Kept myself clean.”
“Was that the last time you spoke to him about it?”
“No. Last week, Clay comes by driving a Hummer. Black, tinted windows, rims, the works.” Tony remembered feeling like an idiot when the SUV slowed to follow him and his friends. “He rolled down the window and called my name. Said ‘Hey, Tony, I hope you like delivering pizzas for a living. Look what you’ve missed.’ Then he showed me his ring. It had a blue stone.”
Tony stared down at his shoes. “Next thing I hear, Clay is dead.”
CHAPTER 16
Kell knocked on the office door the next morning. Luke waved her inside. “What are you doing here?”
“My job.” She scanned his desk, brightening when she saw the tabbed folder. “Can I take a look at the evidence file?”
Luke didn’t bother to cover the folder. “Absolutely not.”
The answer wasn’t unexpected, so Kell didn’t protest. Their partnership played close to the line as it was. The county’s chief prosecutor would have Luke’s badge for sharing their files before discovery required the release. His accession would have amazed her, and forced her to question his competency.
To show there were no hard feelings, she added, “Just thought I’d try. But we’re both clear that I’ll find out some how, right?”
Luke spared her a piercing look. “Don’t end-run me, Kell.”
“Define end-run. Come on, Luke, I’ve got resources at my disposal that I intend to use.”
He replied firmly, “Involve Cheryl or anyone on my staff in this, and I pick Eliza up.”
“You wouldn’t.” Her response wasn’t a challenge, but a statement of fact. Luke deplored the possibility of arresting Eliza as much as she did. He was unlike any lawman she’d ever encountered, a distinction that weakened her resolve to keep distance between them. Rather than jump to obvious conclusions, he struck her as methodical and intentional, willing to explore possibilities. Justice as a goal rather than a lucky coincidence.
Cops, in her experience, went after the low-hanging fruit, the easy answer. Their willingness to take a crime at face value didn’t mean they were lazy or didn’t care, but that t
hey accepted the truth of human behavior—most crimes weren’t premeditated. People killed for passion or gain or revenge. Prove those motives, and prove your case. Her career had been built on convincing jurors of alternate theories. Dulling passion, denying greed, saintly clients who decried revenge.
“Does your team know that you suspect her?”
“Not yet. But I will have to tell them soon. We’ve got a couple of days at best, Kell, then I have to move on the evidence we’ve got.”
The weekend, she summarized. By Monday, he’d be at the Center, warrant in hand.
“Why the rush?”
“Politics.” He sneered the word. “This is an election year, and the county commission isn’t keen on having unsolved murders playing in the papers while they run for office.”
“Aren’t you up for reelection?”
Luke lifted his shoulders dismissively. “I don’t solve crimes to win elections. But I’m risking my career on this one. The Palace is on the county line, which means Chief Graves could raise a claim to jurisdiction. He’d love to have this one under his belt by November.”
“He wants your seat,” she guessed.
“This would be his first murder.” Luke didn’t mention that the other two corpses lying in the county morgue weighed down his argument that he could handle the cases without help. He’d prioritized Clay Griffin, and he’d decided to align himself with Kell to disprove Eliza Faraday as the killer. All choices that he’d have to answer for eventually. “Tell me what you thought of Tony.”
“Smart. Ambitious. Perceptive enough to refuse Clay’s offer.” A frown creased her brow. “I’m still at a loss as to why Clay would recruit him, though. If his employers had money, they could have hired outside help to act as security. It strikes me as very odd that they’d hire a kid from the District.”
Luke had the same reaction. “Tony and Clay have a connection that he didn’t tell us about. I’ll talk to Cheryl, see what she can find out.”
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