"About what, specifically?"
"I already told you. Small talk. The house, the weather, whatever." Robert's voice took on an edge of irritation. "Look, I barely know the guy. He stopped by, we chatted for a few minutes, he left. That's it."
Jeremy leaned forward. "Robert, we found a significant amount of high-grade drugs in that house. Designer cocaine, pharmaceutical-quality pills. Street value close to half a million."
"I told you before, I don't know anything about that." Robert's denial came out fast, his chest heaving.
"Funny thing about those drugs," Pete said conversationally. "They were found in the same room where you and Harry Blackwood had your little chat."
Robert's lips pinched together. "That's... that's just a coincidence."
"Is it?" Jeremy's voice remained calm and professional. "Because it seems like quite a coincidence that expensive drugs show up in the exact location where you met with someone who just happened to drop by."
Hartwell's hand landed on Robert's arm before his client could respond. "Gentlemen, unless you have evidence directly connecting my client to those substances, these questions amount to speculation and harassment."
"We're just trying to understand the timeline," Pete said. "Harry Blackwood visits on Friday afternoon. The other four members of the original group were on the beach. Supposedly, Robert is alone in the house when Harry stops by. High-grade drugs are found Saturday night in a room that had been locked. Robert, if Harry left something in that room, now's the time to tell us."
"I don't know anything about drugs!" Robert's voice cracked with what sounded like genuine panic. "If Harry brought something, I didn't see it. I didn't know about it."
"Do you have any knowledge that Harry might be involved in drug distribution?" Jeremy pressed.
Hartwell's voice cut through the room like a blade. "Don't answer that."
Robert's mouth snapped shut, his eyes wide as he looked back and forth between his lawyer and the detectives. Terry could see the kid's internal struggle playing out across his face. The desire to protect himself warred with whatever loyalty or fear he felt toward Harry Blackwood.
"My client has been cooperative enough," Hartwell said, gathering his papers. "Unless you're prepared to file charges, we're done here."
Jeremy and Pete exchanged glances. Terry knew they were weighing their options: push harder and risk losing what little cooperation they had, or let Robert walk away with his partial admissions.
"That's fine," Jeremy said finally. "But Robert, if you remember anything else about Harry Blackwood's visit, you should call us. Immediately."
Robert nodded jerkily, already rising from his chair. "Can I go now?"
"You're free to leave," Pete confirmed.
Terry watched them file out, Robert's earlier swagger completely gone, replaced by the nervous energy of someone who knew he was in over his head. Hartwell walked beside his client with the measured pace of a man calculating damage control.
When the interview room door closed, Terry joined Jeremy and Pete in the hallway. "Well?" Terry asked.
"Kid's scared shitless," Pete said bluntly. "He knows more than he's saying, but his attorney has him locked down tight."
"He confirmed Harry was there," Jeremy pointed out. "And his reaction when we mentioned the drugs? That wasn't acting."
Terry nodded grimly. "He knows Harry brought those drugs, but he's too scared to admit it. Question is, scared of who? Harry or the people Harry works for?"
"Either way, we've got enough to bring Harry Blackwood in for questioning," Pete said. "Robert placed him at the scene, and Claire identified him from the photo lineup."
"Do it," Terry said, feeling the familiar rush of a case reaching its breaking point. "But carefully. If Virginia Beach DTF is right about the cartel connections, Harry Blackwood isn't going to come quietly. Plus, I want to try for a warrant to search Robert’s finances. My guess is either he or Harry had to cough up the money to cover the drugs we confiscated.”
As they headed back toward the bullpen, Terry's phone buzzed with a text from Sandra.Working late tonight.
He stared at the message, wishing nothing more than to be able to see her tonight. Heaving a sigh, he pocketed his phone and turned his attention back to preparing Harry Blackwood's questioning. But he couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out faster than any of them realized.
38
Sandra had just finished with a client when Rupert appeared in her doorway. His usually confident demeanor was replaced by a look that seemed almost sheepish.
"Got a minute?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder toward the reception area.
