“One thing you should know, though,” Ian said. “Her brother doesn’t know about the DA’s decision, and he’s called in Sal Sutherland to represent her. The DA might not charge her, but she’ll remain a suspect and Sutherland will likely tell her not to say a word.”
Hoffman groaned. “Usually I’d say if a client hires the most expensive defense attorney in the business, you gotta wonder if they’re guilty. Not this case, though. I remember reading he was her mentor when she went into private practice. The hire’s likely more about that.”
“And we also need to remember that her brother’s an FBI agent,” Londyn said. “My parents are good friends with the Byrd family. The Veritas Center’s forensic expert, Sierra Byrd, is married to Reed. If Malone wants to investigate this on her own, she’ll have unlimited forensic and investigative help.”
“We can’t stop her,” Hoffman said.
“Too bad they can’t work with us,” Ian said. “They have top-notch experts at the center.”
“We don’t have the budget for outside help.” Hoffman clapped his hands and stood. “You’ll want to get over to Junior’s place to check things out. We don’t need a warrant, but I’ll still request one. No way we want bereaved parents or attorneys contesting our search. Should have the warrant to you by the time you arrive. I’ll text you when I do.”
Law enforcement had every right to access Junior’s items. Fourth Amendment rights gave people privacy protections while alive that didn’t extend past their death, but the public, who was all about people’s rights these days, would look more favorably on the search if the warrant was obtained. And if Ian could prevent grieving parents any additional turmoil, he was all for it.
“And by the time you finish with the condo,” Hoffman continued. “Rice will have had a few hours in lockup, and interviewing her before we kick her loose might give us one detail that can lead to this mystery man.Ifhe exists.”
“Understood.” Ian got up and let Londyn file out before him. He didn’t need to tell her that he wasn’t excited to have a fellow detective on the investigation. She would know. They were all used to working alone. Having to read someone in on every development would be a hassle. But even more disconcerting was delegating work that he would want to do himself to be sure it was done right.
“Hey, I get it,” she said, stopping at the edge of their bullpen of detectives, where only a few guys were working that late on a Friday night. “I know you’re not happy having me tag along for this. I wouldn’t want an assistant either, and I don’t much like being one. But I’ll take directives from you as long as you give an honest listen to my opinions and suggestions.”
“That I can do.”
“On the bright side, I have all the time in the world for the job right now, and you can work me to death.”
“Life change?”
“Breakup.” Her matter-of-fact tone said the breakup didn’t bother her in the least, but the anguish in her eyes held a different message.
He didn’t know her well enough to ask for details. “I need you to get the warrant going to retrieve Junior’s phone records. If his phone was taken at the crime scene, there could be something incriminating on it the shooter wanted to either retrieve or hide from us.”
“You believe Malone’s story, then.”
“Not sure. Regardless, we need his phone records no matter who has it.”
“I’ll get on it,” she said.
He glanced at his watch. “Give me five minutes to change my shirt and freshen up, and we’ll go check out Junior’s condo.”
“I’ll get that warrant started while I wait.” Londyn spun and went to her desk on the far side of the room filled with chest-high cubicles.
He headed for his own space near the window. He could see the moon hanging full and illuminating the city bustling with nightlife. He grabbed a clean shirt from his bottom drawer and headed for the restroom, where he washed up and changed into more professional attire.
He gave himself a long look in the mirror, wondering what Malone thought when she’d laid eyes on him. Interest had shone in her eyes, but she’d controlled it the moment he’d looked at her, and he didn’t know if she’d gotten better at hiding it or if she just plain wasn’t into him anymore. She’d never married. That he knew. But he didn’t know if she was in a serious relationship.
He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her he wanted to see if she was as stunning as he’d expected. Although, truth be told, he’d barely missed running into her several times over the years when she’d been in the office to meet with detectives. She’d prosecuted all kinds of bad people, but he didn’t think she’d ever represented anyone for murder, so they’d never butted heads. But now? How she looked or what she thought of him was the last of his worries. He didn’t plan on letting his attraction screw up his investigation.
He grabbed his dirty shirt and took it to his desk before meeting Londyn at the door.
“I’ll drive.” He led the way to their secured parking garage down the street, where he’d left his PPB vehicle at end of duty. The temperatures had dropped to the upper forties, and a distinctive fall chill left the air crisp.
Londyn pulled her suit jacket closed. “Wonder if we’ll get snow this year.”
“You one of the nuts who likes the snow?” Ian opened the sedan, and they settled inside.
“I did before I became a police officer. Now it’s a logistical nightmare.” She mocked a shudder, and he laughed.
“Since we’ve been getting more of it, the city’s doing a better job with it.” He drove the car out of the garage and onto a nearly deserted street.
He pointed them in the right direction and glanced at Londyn. “There’s something you should know. I have more of a connection to Malone than I told Hoffman. One night my junior year of high school, Junior sexually assaulted Malone and would’ve raped her if I hadn’t pulled him off her.”
