“On my way to pick up Claire and then we’re going to the station so she can make a statement.”
“Not without me. Neither of you talk to the police without me present. Understand? This isn’t like dealing with Mr. Lester’s widow. The ATF doesn’t mess around where contraband ammunition is concerned. They’ll shut you down.”
“I was afraid of that,” said Luke calculating what another delay was going to cost him.
“I’m on my way,” said Mason. “I’ll meet you there. Neither you nor Ms. English talks to anyone until I get there. Listen to me. This is what you pay me obscene amounts of money for.”
“As long as you realize that it’s obscene,” said Luke, disconnecting the call.
He revved the car and blew through a yellow light. In a few more minutes, he was pulling up in front of the construction trailer. Luke ignored the two police cruisers parked by the storage containers. He wasn’t going to talk to anyone, not even on his own jobsite without Mason beside him. Claire was waiting for him on the construction trailer steps, wearing jeans and a faded T-shirt which hugged her gorgeous curves. With her hair pulled back into a ponytail under her hard hat she could have more easily passed for a calendar model than a contractor. When she saw him her worried expression was replaced by a smile, and something inside his chest did a little flip. Knowing that just seeing him had the power to change her mood was intoxicating as hell. He slid the car into park but before he could get out to open her door, she was already sliding into the passenger seat, stowing her hard hat behind the seat.
“Tell me what happened,” he said.
Before she answered, she leaned across the seat to brush a kiss across his cheek. He turned to catch her lips, kissing her soundly before she sat back down in her seat and fastened her seat belt.
“You’re right,” he said, smiling at her. “I got carried away and forgot. Thanks for reminding me.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” she said.
He liked that she was comfortable enough to joke with him. She couldn’t be too anxious if she was willing to play.
“Now,” he said. “Why are we headed to the police station?”
“The police found ammo in some of the nail boxes. They’re back there securing the site,” she said, motioning to the storage area. “Luke, none of this makes any sense. I’ve known Sparks for years. He wouldn’t have anything to do with this kind of thing. And he sure as hell wouldn’t let it go on if he knew about it.”
Luke was less sure of the construction manager than Claire was. There had been too many things that didn’t sit quite right to assume the older man was innocent in all of this. But he’d wait to pass judgment for Claire’s sake if for no other reason. However all of this ended, he doubted he’d be using Matthews again. Theft, vandalism, Pete’s death and now this, there were just too many problems to be a coincidence. It was a shame. He’d really like Mr. Matthews. He’d seemed like an honest hardworking man, but there was too much money at stake to take chances. Construction delays killed otherwise profitable projects, and there had been nothing but delays on this job. Still he owed Matthews for introducing him to Claire.
“Were you with Sparks when the police showed up?”
“No, I’d come down to find him to let him know when we’d be ready to call for the next inspection. He was already in the storage container with the detective when I found them.”
“Detective Benson?” Luke waited for the light to turn before heading back downtown.
“Yes. He was there with an officer I didn’t recognize. Sparks let them look through the boxes because he didn’t think there was anything in them. It was almost like they knew exactly what they were looking for. It only took them a couple of minutes to find the bullets. Luke, what’s going on? Have you ever had this happen on another of your jobs?”
“I haven’t had half the problems on other jobs that I’ve had on this one.” He glanced over at her and saw worry clouding her face. “It’s not your fault,” he said reaching over to run the back of his finger down her cheek. “None of this is your fault, Claire.” He felt her nod and turned his attention back to navigating his way to the police station.
He pulled the car into the underground garage wishing he’d thought to take the other car and his driver. When Claire called, his protective urges overwhelmed his reasoning ability and all he could think of was getting to her. He slid the car into the widest space he could find and hoped no one keyed it before they got back. Taking Claire’s hand, he led her down the garage stairs and to the main level entrance of the precinct. Mason was already waiting for them in the lobby.
“Claire, this is Mason Jeffries. He is my ridiculously overpriced attorney. Do what he tells you. Please,” he added as an afterthought because it increased her chances of doing what he wanted.
“It’s only overpriced if it’s not worth it, and I assure you; I’m worth it. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. English.” Mason shook Claire’s hand and then led her to the elevator. “You are not compelled to be here. You are helping out in the interest of justice. I’ll tell you if there is something I don’t think you should answer. Do not volunteer information they don’t ask for.”
“I want to help them find out what happened to Pete,” she said, and Luke could see the determination in her expression. The woman didn’t let anything scare her.
“Of course,” said Mason as the elevator doors slid open.
Luke felt like he was on a TV crime drama. Rows of desks with overworked looking detectives ran down both sides of the room. There were a few people who looked like they were there to give statements, but for the most part it was police officers filling out paperwork. He recognized one of the detectives from the night of the accident but he didn’t see Detective Benson. He assumed he was in another room with Sparks. Luke still couldn’t decide how he felt about the construction manager. He’d wait until he had more information before forming an opinion.
“Mr. Masters, Ms. English,” said the detective whose name Luke couldn’t remember. “Thank you for coming in.”
“I’m Mason Jeffries, counsel for Ms. English.”
The detective nodded but neither man offered their hands. “If you’ll come with me, Ms. English. We can talk back here. Mr. Masters you can wait over there if you’d like.” He motioned to a tired looking waiting area with a mostly dead potted plant and a coffee marker with coffee so dark it looked like it had been brewed the day before.
Luke tipped his head in acknowledgement and then watched as Claire squared her shoulders and followed the detective down the hallway and out of sight, taking a piece of him along with her.
HE WAS PACING the waiting area twenty minutes later when Sparks came walking down the hall. He saw Luke and made a beeline for him.
