“I officially reclassified Eddie Salcedo’s death as a homicide.”
He widened his eyes.“You made it official?”
“Yes.”I added, “Obviously, I can’t tell you what tipped the scales for me since it’s an ongoing investigation.”
“Declan, I get it,” he said irritably.“You don’t have to always say that.I know you can’t talk about the case with me.”
He was right.I did always feel compelled to tell him that.“Sorry.”
“Forget it.”He sighed and grimaced.“I’m just grumpy because I’m in pain and I feel like shit.”
“No, you’re right.”I touched his leg.“I know you understand how an investigation works.If I keep repeating that to you, it’s like I don’t trust you won’t try to get information out of me.”
He looked relieved that I understood.“I respect the boundaries.I want you to know that.”
I nodded.“Yes.I know you do.Again, I’m sorry.”
There was a self-satisfied glint in his eye.“And for the record, I knew Eddie was murdered.Something was off from day one.”He added quickly, “And I don’t expect you to respond to that.I’m just telling you how I felt the whole time.”
“I know.I know.”
He fell silent, but I could see the wheels turning.After a moment, he met my gaze, looking uncertain.“You can’t talk to me about the case, which I totally understand.”He hesitated.“But that doesn’t mean I can’t tell you things that I find out about the case, right?”
I frowned.“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.First of all, I don’t like the idea you’re investigating Eddie’s death.”
He cocked his head, looking affronted.“Seriously?I’m a journalist, Declan.I investigate things all the time.”
“Okay, but this is a homicide investigation.”
He laughed.“Yes.I know.I’ve investigated those before in Portland.”
“How about you let the police handle this?”I tried to sound reasonable because I knew enough about Spencer at this point to realize he didn’t like being told what to do.
“Because I think I have some information that you could use to solve Eddie’s death.”
I squinted at him.“How would you get that kind of information?”
“By talking to people,” he said gruffly.“You know, like a journalist does.”
I opened my mouth, and he cut in.
“Declan, just listen.You don’t have to confirm or deny anything.I’m just going to tell you stuff I found out, and you can investigate it or not.”He shifted carefully, wincing.“Why is that a bad thing?”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” I said patiently.“I just don’t want you involved.”
“And that isn’t your call,” he grated out.“Besides, I already know these things.Why wouldn’t I tell you?”
I held his stubborn gaze.“Fine, what is it you think I should know?”
He settled back against the couch cushions, his expression less obstinate.“I was at the barbershop the day of my accident.Ray Tillman was there.”
“Okay.”
“We were talking about Gil making Rosa an offer on the Pacific Lady—”
I frowned.“Gil made an offer to Rosa for the boat?”
He nodded.“Yeah.I guess you didn’t know that?”
