“You seem a bit evangelical about it.”
“The Church of the Holy Crewe,” Wade said. “I’ve always been a devout member, more than ready to worship.” His smile now was slow and seductive and pulled at Jericho, mind, body, and soul.
Jericho tried to resist. “We’re off topic again. I need you to tell Donald Morgan about the feds.”
“Because if he already knows about them, then Kayla can’t get in trouble for spilling the beans. And because Kayla’s not going to be feeding him any more information anyway, so it’s not going to hurt the feds’ case if he knows they’re looking at him.”
“Exactly. And it’s not going to hurt you, either, since you’re not going to get anything from him anymore.”
Wade looked thoughtful. “And if I decide not to do it? What then?”
Jericho shrugged. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to say it. Maybe everything would be simpler if they kept things on the terms they were currently on.
But Wade had never cared much about keeping things simple. “If I don’t tell him, you’re going to,” he said slowly. “Right? You’ve got to be the white knight, riding in to save the fair maiden. You can’t just let this take care of itself.”
“If you don’t tell him, I’ll figure something else out.”
“You’ll risk your damn career, risk getting charged with a federal offense. That’s what you’ll do.”
“Probably,” Jericho finally conceded.
Wade nodded. “Okay. So, fine, I’ll take care of it. But not because of the kind of person I am or you believe I am. Not because of Kayla Morgan, or some loyalty you seem to think I might feel toward her. I’ll do it for you, Jay. And all I want in return?”
Jericho braced himself.
“I just want you to acknowledge it. I want you toknowI’m doing it for you. I want you to admit that—to me and to yourself.”
What game was Wade playing? What were the rules, and how the hell did he think either of them could ever win it? The smart thing would be to refuse to play. But instead, Jericho nodded. “I’d appreciate it if you’d do this for me, Wade.”
Wade smiled, and it left Jericho feeling as if he’d just signed a deal with the devil, and not regretting it one bit.
Doubt began to creep in as Jericho drove back to the office, but he dismissed it. Yes, he’d just asked a known criminal to interfere with a federal investigation on his behalf. It had happened, and now it was done with. There was no way to change it and therefore no point worrying about it, not when there was so much more going on.
Morebeing a possible serial killer. One who framed disabled, vulnerable people to take the fall for his crimes. Ugly, but smart. Will was physically strong, completely able to have committed the crime, but didn’t have the mental resources to defend himself from prosecution. He wouldn’t be able to convince anyone that he was innocent. Which meant he needed someone else to do that for him.
When Jericho got back to the station, he detoured around to the cells at the side where Will was being held. The judge hadn’t set the bail all that high, but it was high enough that Will couldn’t pay it, and no relatives were paying, either. Jericho had heard rumors of the Applebys trying to mortgage the hardware store to raise money, but the truth was the place wasn’t worth much. No, it wasn’t likely that Will would be getting bailed out, so Jericho needed to hurry up and find another way for him to be freed.
In the meantime, though, he crouched down outside the bars of the cell and waited to be noticed. Will was sitting on the thin mattress, rocking a little, staring at the wall. Shit, he didn’t look good. This whole thing had to be incredibly stressful for him: finding the body, the arrest, being held somewhere unfamiliar. Pretty damn frightening—all of it.
“Will,” Jericho said gently. “Hey, Will, it’s me. Jericho. We went to school together. I’m your friend, okay?”
There was no response.
“We’re going to try to get you out of there, Will. As soon as we can, I promise.”
Still nothing.
“I saw in the visitor book that Mr. and Mrs. Appleby have been coming to see you.” He didn’t mention the other visitor, didn’t want to think about Will, trapped behind bars while Wooderson taunted him. “The Applebys are nice people, aren’t they? And it’s good that you work at the hardware store—they’re not as young as they used to be, and I’m sure they need your help. So we’ll get you back to that as soon as we can.”
He shifted around so he was sitting rather than crouching, and stayed there awhile longer. He didn’t have anything to say, but it just didn’t seem right to cut the visit too short. Besides, it gave him time to think.
At first, of course, his mind went to Wade. He was out there doing something illegal. Doing it for Jericho. If he got caught, he’d be in trouble because of Jericho. Was that all Wade’s request had been about? Had he just been setting up a big guilt trip?
No. It had been more than that. A declaration, although what was being declared was hard to pin down. Nothing with Wade could ever be simple. But hopefully the problem with Kayla was—not resolved, but tidied up. Jericho couldn’t do anything to keep her dad from being dirty, and he damn well wouldn’t do anything to keep the old bastard from getting caught. But tipping him off now, when his pipeline of information had already dried up? Jericho was okay with that.
Will moved in his cell, just shuffled an inch or so along the bed, and Jericho watched him for a moment. Then he remembered Keith Wooderson, and frowned. What kind of asshole— Well, shit. The man had beaten a couple of women to death, and Jericho was surprised that he’d been evil enough to frame an innocent for it? That was stupid.
“Keith Wooderson,” Jericho said gently, experimentally. “Mr. Wooderson, the man from the alley. Do you know him, Will? He came to see you here too. Do you know Mr. Wooderson?”
