“I’m sorry, guys.”
“You said that before. Didn’t help then either.” Usually, Andi wasn’t one for twisting the knife. Though what he and George had endured while Chief Norris had been on the warpath made him muster the energy to be a bit vengeful.
“I know. I’m going to be there tomorrow and act as the buffer. The FBI can’t be bothered to send somebody so DeCapristo is on her own.”
“Well, that’s at least something. Thank you, Luke. See you tomorrow.” George seemed to think a little mending of bridges was in order. His electric fields told Andi he wasn’t feeling as benevolent as he sounded, which in turn made him mellow out a bit. The workings of the human mind were mysterious and annoying.
“See you tomorrow, bye.” Luke ended the call.
“I wonder exactly what her angle is.” George started tapping the screen of his cell phone with his fingers.
“Huh?”
“Think about it, Andi. Agent DeCapristo has been so obnoxious, we never wondered why she’s even in Spartanburg.”
“Because a judge was killed and the crime crossed national borders.” It seemed pretty logical to Andi.
“Yeah. A retired judge with a lot of ugly rulings under his belt but no big trial in his past that might have put him on somebody’s radar. Why would the FBI even know about his death, not to mention look at it twice? Aren’t they overworked? Understaffed? Don’t they have these nifty algorithms to find the alarming cases? How can this death by natural causes even get on their radar?”
Now that George pointed it out, Andi had to admit it was rather strange. And interesting. “Let me text Shireen.”
Only ten minutes after he’d sent the text, Shireen answered. Andi read what she had written. “FBI algorithms are designed to find patterns crossing state lines that the local law enforcement may not be aware of. They also pick up on unusual causes of death. Something like Judge Dunhill’s death, which is well within the statistics, shouldn’t even make it past the first filter.” He looked at George. “Now the question is, who pointed her to Spartanburg and to what gain?”
“You don’t think she’s acting on her own?”
“Do you?”
“Not really.” George sighed and put the travel bag on the floor at the end of the bed. “Another mystery in this case already filled with them.”
“We’re going to crack them all.” Andi wasn’t nearly as optimistic as he tried to sound. Luckily for him, George didn’t have tiny spies telling him how at odds Andi’s words were with his pheromones and electric fields.
“Amen.” Then again, perhaps George didn’t need them because he seemingly knew Andi inside and out.
CHAPTER 13
NEXT TRY
The drive back to Spartanburg the next morning was uneventful and mostly silent. George wasn’t looking forward to meeting Agent DeCapristo and Chief Savalle again, a sentiment Andi very obviously shared. They arrived at the precinct at ten o’clock, going directly up to the chief’s office. DeCapristo, the chief, and Luke were already waiting. Luke didn’t waste any time and took over immediately.
“Good morning, Detectives Donovan and Hayes. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”
Both DeCapristo and Savalle murmured something that could be considered a greeting if one was in a generous mood. George simply nodded as did Andi. “As I’ve already mentioned to Agent DeCapristo and Chief Savalle, our respective bosses want us to work on this case together and are asking us to show the public a united front in an effort to restore people’s trust in law enforcement.”
“That’s a cute little speech.” Agent DeCapristo snorted. “You did good in committing it to memory. I just want to make clear that any and all credit for solving the death of Judge Dunhill will go to me.”
“As charming as ever.” Savalle didn’t even try to hide his disdain. The thin—very thin—veneer of cordiality he had shown during their first meeting was gone. “So, you think my detectives made a mistake?” The words were said as a challenge.
At least he protects the people working for him. George looked at Luke, who shrugged, leaving the stage to him. “No. We don’t think so. Given the information and resources Detectives Shaw and Smalton had, they acted absolutely correct and their conclusions were sound. At first glance, nothing suspicious stands out about any of the deaths we’re currently investigating. If it weren’t for the rather unusual circumstances of Judge Dunhill’s, Trevor Asten’s, and Jagger Thomasin’s deaths, we wouldn’t have bothered coming here in the first place. As of now, we still can’t say if those weren’t simply freak accidents. But we do have access to additional information, and we plan on using said access to see if there was indeed foul play involved. And if there was, you can rest assured that we’re doing everything in our power to find the culprits.”
“And what exactly is that ‘additional information’?” Agent DeCapristo made the air quotes visible through her derisive tone.
Determined not to get baited into doing something stupid—like wringing her neck and that of Chief Savalle as well since he was already at it—George counted down from ten before he answered, “I’m assuming your boss has briefed you about what you need to know regarding Detective Hayes and me. We’re not at liberty to discuss our resources. We will keep you apprised of our steps in searching for the truth. First thing after this meeting, we’re going to visit the houses of Suzie Monahan and Isabelle Hopper. Hopefully, this will garner us some new insights.”
Savalle’s brow furrowed. He seemed to have cooled down a bit or was plotting his next move, though George wasn’t sure and didn’t care. “Why are these two of interest? I thought there were no irregularities concerning their deaths?”
“Some new information has come to light since we were first here,” George explained smoothly.
The chief didn’t like being stonewalled as was evident by the sneer on his face. Before he could start the next rant, George cut the meeting short. “We’re on our way now. Should we need help or find anything, we’ll contact you.” He nodded at every person present, darkening his look when he reached Luke, who gave an almost imperceptible shrug, then followed Andi, who was already back at the door. They left the precinct and went to his Escalade. Once they were seated, Andi typed the address of Isabelle Hopper’s home into the navigation system. She had lived in Westgate, a popular neighborhood that featured a mix of single-family homes, townhomes, and apartments. At least that was what Spartanburg’s official internet site claimed. The morning traffic had decreased a bit, which meant they only needed fifteen minutes to get to the small house on a street lined with more of its kind. George couldn’t detect much diversity here, but on their way, they had seen a more varied selection of living space.
