“My grandma cut out the picture of us in the paper from the other day,” Nick said, also taking a seat. The wooden table groaned under his weight.
I rolled my eyes. “Figures. I’m sure mine has, too.” They’d completely ignored the fact that we’d been on the scene of a homicide at the time. I looked through the glass. “Where did you find Melvin Whitaker?”
“Hotel near the border. He’d used credit cards,” Nick said.
Melvin looked even skinnier than last time I saw him. Today he wore wrinkled gray pants, a polo shirt, and a shiny gold watch. His skin sagged at the arms and beneath his chin just enough to show he was in his sixties and not in good shape. Probably spent too much time in a lab creating illegal drugs. He fidgeted on the small chair, scratching his ear once in a while.
Nick leaned back. “He looks nervous already.”
I nodded, my mind thinking over the day. “Hey. The sheriff from Silverville called, and I told him to release copies of my ongoing case files about Jareth Davey to your friends.”
Nick turned. “What friends?”
I sat up straighter, my spine snapping to attention. “Somebody federal. I figured it was you calling in favors.”
“No,” Nick said slowly. “I have a couple of private investigators I work with who are the best. I have them hunting down Jareth Davey.”
Wait a minute. “Then who asked for my files?”
Nick shook his head. “Don’t know, but we’re going to find out after this. I promise.”
I didn’t have time to answer because Detective Pierce strode in, still wearing his tac gear and looking powerful. Probably to intimidate the scientist. Pierce slapped a manila file down on the table, and Melvin jumped. “Do you understand your rights as they’ve been read to you?” he asked.
Melvin looked up; his eyes sharp. “Yes.”
“So you’ll be interviewed?” Pierce asked, taking a seat to the left and keeping our view unobstructed.
“Sure.” Melvin shrugged a narrow shoulder. “I have done nothing wrong. What is going on?”
Pierce leaned back as if he had all the time in the world. “How do you know Aiden Devlin?”
“Going right for it, is he?” Nick breathed. “Nice.”
Melvin fidgeted more. “I’ve never heard that name.”
Pierce pulled the manila file toward him. “You’ve never met Aiden Devlin?”
“No.”
“Ever talked to him on the phone?” Pierce asked.
“No,” Melvin breathed, looking toward the door.
“That’s interesting.” Pierce drew out a piece of paper that had been highlighted across a bunch of rows. “Because these are your phone records, and these highlighted rows show phone calls between you and Aiden Devlin, who is a Lordes Defender and a well-known criminal in the area.” He pushed the paper across the table.
Melvin swallowed, his Adam’s apple jiggling. His gaze dropped to the paper, but he didn’t reach for it. “You didn’t have probable cause to search my phone.”
Pierce nodded. “Probably not, but Devlin committed a battery and took evidence in an ongoing investigation, so I had plenty of probable cause on him to get a warrant. This is his phone dump…and here you are. Over and over and over again.”
Melvin swallowed again. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
“You just lied to me. That proves something.” Pierce drummed his fingers on the tabletop before pulling out two large photographs. “Here are two guys who ticked Devlin off. As you can see, they’re both dead.”
Melvin paled; his gaze caught on the paper. “Then I shouldn’t tick him off.”
“Ah, but now you’re a loose end. It’s my understanding, as a Lorde’s Defender, that Devlin takes care of all loose ends. You’re a smart guy. What do you think one bullet does to the brain?” Pierce asked.
“I haven’t done anything.” Melvin shoved the autopsy pictures back. “Period.”
