by H. P. Bayne
Flynn paused and looked to be taking an internal breather. “Right. Okay. Good.”
Dez smiled. “You were going down to see him, weren’t you?”
“Damn right.”
“Maybe we could watch the interview from the monitoring room.”
Flynn’s obvious worry-created semi-panic had largely abated, and his answer proved it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Questions are going to be asked that will have the two of us fighting to hold ourselves back. Let’s you and I go grab a coffee in the cafeteria, okay?”
“Cafeteria coffee’s sludge, Dad.”
“It’s every respectable cop’s duty to drink sludge, son. Come on.”
Sully readjusted a sock he’d rapidly slid his foot into after being relieved of the pieces of clothing that had either gunpowder residue or blood on them—which, as it turned out, was everything except his underwear.
He was grateful for the change of clothes Dez had brought, a welcome alternative to the cold plastic coveralls he would have been wearing otherwise. Unfortunately, Dez had forgotten extra shoes, leaving Sully sitting here in his socked feet.
His phone had also been taken, leaving him nothing to do but stare at the walls and think—not a good thing, given what he had to think about.
He was actually grateful when the door opened, heralding a start to his videotaped statement. Relief ended when he saw who it was.
Sergeant Forbes Raynor flashed a smile that was all teeth as he introduced himself, before taking a chair across from Sully.
“I know who you are,” Sully said in response. The Black Fox was a regular drinking hole for some of Riverview’s less-privileged denizens but, thanks to Dez and his popularity among his colleagues, it had also become a favoured spot for cops looking to wind down after hours. Forbes had turned up a few times, although not likely on Dez’s invite.
Forbes loathed Dez, a guy who didn’t have a truly unlikable bone in his body. Dez could be gruff and even outright intimidating when angry, but he was generally an affable goofball, always ready with a joke or a prank. Dez had more friends than Sully could count—always had—and most times when he brought a group of colleagues to the Fox, he was their boisterous centre.
The times when he’d shown up, Forbes had spent the evening stewing on a bar stool, burning through Dez with largely unbroken glares until, once in a while, someone took pity on him and sat down to share a drink.
Forbes’s jealousy was clear. Dez—unnaturally tall, athletic and good-looking—gave a lot of guys plenty to feel jealous about. Most took it in stride, were happy enough hanging out with him. Forbes wasn’t the hang-out kind of man, and Sully recognized a fellow introvert when he saw one.
He also recognized someone who hated himself. Sully had spent years thinking of himself as a freak until, gradually, his time with the Braddocks straightened him out. He suspected Forbes hadn’t had anyone to do him the same favour, although what his problem with himself was, Sully didn’t know.
What he did know was that Forbes disliked him, as Dez’s brother, out of principle.
This wasn’t going to be an easy interview.
“I suppose you’ve seen me at the Black Fox on occasion,” Forbes said.
Sully nodded.
“For future reference, answer in words, please. If we could get the preliminaries out of the way first, I need to double check your full name, date of birth, address and phone number.”
Sully ran through the list as requested.
“You never took the Braddocks’ last name,” Forbes observed. “Why?”
“I was a foster, not adopted. It became a permanent placement, but it would have been tricky to change my name.”
“Do you know anything about your birth parents?”
“I thought we were here to talk about what happened at the Fox.”
“We are. Just curious.”
“No. I don’t know anything about them. That’s no secret. Apparently, it was all over the news when I was left on that doorstep as a baby.”
“You never wanted to find out?”
“What for? They abandoned me.”
“Some people would still want to know.”
“It’s never really been an option, and I guess that’s never bothered me much. At first, I was too young to do anything about it, even if I’d wanted to. After that, I ended up with the Braddocks, and that was way more than enough for me. They’re my family.”
“But not really, right? I mean, they’re not blood.”
“They’re family in every way that counts. To some people, blood doesn’t mean a thing.”
“I don’t know,” Forbes said. “I’d be curious.”
“No, you are curious,” Sully said. “You’re adopted, aren’t you?”
He wasn’t surprised that got Forbes back on track. “Why don’t you take me through your version of what happened today.”
Sully noted Forbes had requested his “version,” rather than simply asking what had happened. He suspected that didn't bode well.
Sully provided the rundown, managing to make it through without losing it. He was far better at regulating his emotions than Dez was, far better at the poker face. Were this anyone else sitting in front of him, Sully might have allowed himself to let go a little, to reveal more of himself in that description. As it stood, the last person to whom he wanted to show vulnerability was Forbes Raynor.
Forbes’s eyes were focused uncomfortably on Sully’s face as he talked, and they remained there once he’d finished the narrative. Sully didn’t have to be told the detective was searching for a lie.
Sully forced himself not to fill in the gap. Given he had family members who worked as police officers, he was aware spaces sometimes got dropped into interviews to see whether the person being questioned would fill them with something stupid. Sully was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one.
Finally, Forbes picked back up. “Did you consider Betty a friend?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Pardon the observation, but you don’t seem overly broken up for someone who just watched a friend die.”
Sully bristled. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry.” Clearly, Forbes wasn’t sorry at all. “There was a break-in at the bar recently, I understand.”
“Yeah. Last night, actually. I reported it.”
“I know you did. And you reported the shooting today too. No one’s been arrested in either of those. But, you know, what’s really interesting to me is the fact no one but you saw either of the suspects. Your own brother didn’t see the guy who supposedly broke into Betty’s office last night.”
“What do you mean, ‘supposedly’? You think I made that up?”
“Did you?”
“No, of course I didn’t. Why would I do something like that?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
Forbes sat forward, resting beefy forearms on equally beefy thighs. “Well, here’s one thought. You were after something in Betty’s office, but she’s the only one with a key, so you had to break in. You couldn’t just kick in the door because that would be a sign of an inside job, so you smashed the window out, instead. But you didn’t find anything, did you?”
“What?”
“That left you with a problem, though. Whatever you were looking for was still out there. She had something on you, something you didn’t want anyone to find out. So this morning, before the bar opened, and before anyone else was around, you confronted her about it. You had the gun on her, but she managed to get into the bar where she kept her pistol. She turned, you saw the gun, and you blew her away. Isn’t that what happened?”
“No, it isn’t what happened.”
“Which part?”
“None of it. I didn’t break into her office and I sure as hell didn’t kill her. I described the suspects for you.”
“Very conveniently, both men in masks and gloves. No evidence left at either scene. Meanwhi
le, your shirt, face and hands are covered in blowback, and the shotgun with your prints on it is found at the scene. And there’s no sign anywhere of your mysterious masked shooter.” Forbes looked down, playing at studying a fingernail before staring back up at Sully. “Nothing to say?”
Sully had plenty to say, but his thoughts had stopped finding a coherent path to his mouth. He’d expected some uncomfortable questions, but he’d never anticipated being interrogated as a suspect.
“No?” Forbes said. “Maybe that’s my answer.”
Cold shock giving way to the necessity for speech, Sully at last found his tongue. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t break into Betty’s office, and I didn’t kill her. She was my friend and, no, she had nothing on me. There’s nothing hiding in my past or present that I’m ashamed of, so there’s nothing there to get.”
“Maybe it’s not that you did something to be ashamed of. Maybe she found something out about your past you wanted to know. There’s a lot of shadow behind you, Sullivan. Maybe she found something out and wouldn’t tell you. Or maybe she found something out you didn’t want anyone else to know.”
“Look. You can believe me or not. There’s nothing I can do about that. But while you’ve got me in here, accusing me of something I didn’t do, the real killer is out there somewhere.”
“Maybe,” Forbes said. “Maybe not.”
“Are you arresting me for this?”
Forbes sat back. “No, you’re free to go.”
Sully took that as his cue to leave and headed for the door, but Forbes snagged his wrist.
“Sullivan? Don’t go anywhere we can’t find you. This isn’t done.”
5
Were it not for his father, Dez would have been next in line for questioning over a serious crime.
Only, in his case, it would have been an assault on Forbes Raynor.
It had taken every ounce of self-control Dez possessed to keep the explosion in check until Flynn bustled his sons up to his office. Safely there, Dez paced the room as he vented, stopping only when Flynn held out a hand for quiet.
“Feeling better now?”
“No.”
“Good.” Flynn turned to Sully, slouched in the chair next to him on the visitor side of his desk. “It’s possible Raynor was just testing you, seeing if you’d bite on something. It’s normal for an interview like that, where we don’t have a line on suspects.”
“Sully’s not a suspect,” Dez said. “He’s a witness. A victim, actually.”
Flynn offered Dez a placating smile before returning his attention to his other son. “Sully?”
“He didn’t really ask me anything about the guys I saw,” Sully said. “He just wanted to know about me. Then he threw out that theory I told you about, that I might have been behind it.”
“But he didn’t arrest or charge you, so he knows it’s nothing more than a theory,” Flynn said. “You didn’t do it, so there’s not going to be enough proof to charge you. Simple as that.”
“Except he pointed out my clothes are covered in gunpowder residue and my prints are on the gun.”
“For which you have a solid explanation.”
“Solid if they believe the truth,” Sully said. “I don’t think they do.”
“First of all, Forbes Raynor doesn’t count as ‘they,’ ” Dez said. “Second, Dad’s right. Your explanation makes sense, and it’s going to be pretty hard to get around that if Raynor wants to lay a charge against you.”
“Did Lowell ever get around to installing those security cameras you’d been asking him for?” Flynn asked.
Sully shook his head. “He keeps promising, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Don’t worry,” Flynn said. “Someone will check surveillance cameras on other area properties, see if anything picked up some guy running from the scene on either occasion. Chances are the suspect you caught breaking in is the same guy behind the shooting. Raynor might be looking in the wrong direction, suspect-wise, but his logic’s not completely off.
“It makes sense someone might have gone to the Fox searching for something, and returned the next day when he didn’t find it. Showing up with the gun like that, he might have intended to just use it to threaten Betty into revealing whatever he thought she had. Maybe he didn’t anticipate you being there, or maybe the fact she emerged with a gun of her own set him off. Whatever it was, it’s possible that changed the game plan for him.”
“Or maybe it was because I tried to get the gun away,” Sully said. “Maybe if I hadn’t—”
Flynn cut Sully off before Dez could. “Don’t you go there. You’re not taking the blame for this, you got that? As far as I can tell, the whole thing was decided when Betty grabbed her gun, maybe even before. Hell, for all we know, the plan was to kill her all along.”
“Why not me too?” Sully said. “I was a witness. But he didn’t even try.”
“Well, for one thing, he was masked so you couldn’t ID him,” Dez said. “And, as I understand it, it was a single-barrelled shotgun, right? He had just the one shot, and he’d used it. And even though I like to ride you about being scrawny, you’re actually pretty solid. It would have been an idiot move for him to get into a physical battle with you. Running was the far better option for someone looking to avoid capture.”
“You know Raynor’s just going to say I walked away from the whole thing because I was the one doing the shooting.”
“He can say whatever he wants,” Flynn said. “It’s what the evidence says that counts.”
“Speaking of evidence,” Sully said. “Anyone find a light blue thumb drive anywhere? Betty dug one out from somewhere in her office after the break-in, and she seemed relieved it hadn’t been taken. She said it had family history and photos on it, but I had the feeling she wasn’t telling me everything. Maybe there’s something on it that someone wanted to get their hands on.”
“Did you tell Raynor?” Dez asked.
“He didn’t give me the chance, and once the accusations started, I forgot all about it.”
Sully’s reveal got Dez thinking, and his thoughts weren’t emerging in a happy place. “If it was about a thumb drive, the shooter obviously left the Fox today without getting it.”
“So it’s possible he’ll be back,” Flynn concluded, eyes focused on Dez with meaning that didn't require words.
“We’ve got plenty of room for Sully,” Dez said. “I don’t imagine they’ll let us in yet to get his stuff, but we can swing by somewhere after work and buy him a few things.” He looked down at Sully before he could say anything to deride the plan. “And no arguments, Sull. Break-ins are bad enough. Murder’s something else entirely. Until we get to the bottom of this, you’re not going back there. Uncle Lowell can shut the place down for a while. His bank account won’t suffer for it, believe me.”
“So what am I supposed to do all day?”
Dez quirked up a corner of his mouth. “Staying out of trouble would be a good start.”
Dez and Sully waited while Flynn checked in with Ident on the thumb drive. Dez wasn’t entirely surprised to learn no such drive had been found at the scene or on Betty’s person.
“She must have done something with it last night,” Sully said. “She knew the office was being searched, and it would likely be found if she left it there.”
“So it’s possible her house will be the next target,” Flynn said. “Does she have any family there?”
“I think her son,” Sully said. “But her husband’s been out of the picture for years, so it was just the two of them.”
“Do you know much about her son?” Flynn asked.
“Not really, no. Betty didn’t talk much about family. Whenever I asked, she changed the subject.”
“That’s kind of weird, isn’t it?” Dez said. “I mean, if he was living with her, they were probably close, right? And you and Betty got along well. Why wouldn’t she talk about him?”
“Just the way she was, I guess. Betty didn’t share a lot of personal
info. She’d talk about being a kid, growing up and everything, and she’d tell me stories about her past working life, but she never really said much about her family.”
“Do you know her son’s name?” Flynn asked.
“She only mentioned it once, but I remember it was the last name of an author. She always stuck to romance novels and thrillers, but her husband loved the classics. She told me that when she explained why her son had the name he did.”
“And you don’t remember it? Was it Austen, maybe? Poe?”
“No, it was pretty unusual.”
“King?” Dez suggested.
Sully smirked. “Like Stephen King?”
“Yeah. So?”
“I said classic.”
“King’s a classic.”
Sully rolled his eyes. “Okay, old-school classic, then.”
Flynn was still shooting out names of his own. “Brontë? Doyle? Twain? Thackeray?”
Sully turned fully to Flynn. “What was that last one?”
“Thackeray.”
“That’s it, I think. It sounds right, anyway.”
Flynn tapped the name into his desktop computer, pinching at his lower lip as something popped up on the screen. “I think I get why Betty didn’t talk about him much.”
Dez and Sully circled the desk to see what Flynn had found. It was an arrest record, and the charge attached took things up yet another level.
“Possession of child porn,” Dez observed. “So Betty’s son was a pervert. No wonder she didn’t want to discuss him.”
Flynn eyed the screen for another few seconds before slapping his thighs and standing. “Well, pervert or not, we’d better ensure he’s alert to the possibility of the house being targeted. I’ll touch base with Raynor, make sure he’s onto that.”
Dez smirked at his father, easily reading between his lines. “You sure that’s all you’re going to discuss with Raynor? I mean, there’s no chance Sully’s name’s going to come up during your chat, is there?”
Flynn smiled back, following up by grabbing Dez in a headlock and knuckle-rubbing his scalp. “You’re a real know-it-all, you know that, kid?”
