Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
“I have an address for the decedent when you’re ready to copy.”
“Go on.”
After he gives it to him, Carlson returns with, “I’ll get some patrol guys down there to secure it.”
Fuck me.
But I know they won’t find anything they can connect to me. I’m no amateur.
“What was the kid into?” Millhoff continues.
“Jeffrey knew I was a cop here. Maybe he found out where I live, came here for help. Or maybe I fucked up and he made me. Came over and he was followed. But it was just petty shit he was into.”
“Frank, what was he into?”
“Um—have you notified his mother yet?” I ask.
“No. We didn’t even know who he was until you identified him.”
“No ID on his body?”
“Nothing. Clean. His mother live in the area?”
“No. Ohio. I forget the town, but I have numbers.”
“We’ll have to notify her through their local jurisdiction. Not on the phone, but I’ll still need those numbers. So what was he into?” Millhoff tries again.
Last thing I want to do is hinder a homicide investigation.
“GW student pretending to be a player; nothing but low-level shit. Deals small quantities of cocaine, weed. Nothing else. Damn.”
“And you found all this out how?” Millhoff asks.
I like Millhoff, but that question pisses me off.
“You forgetting what I did when I was on the job?”
“No. You were one of the best narcotics detectives in the city. I still gotta ask, though. There has to be some connection that brought him here.”
“Yes, and I don’t mean to sound hostile. It just…I don’t…I don’t understand this.”
“Are you sure he didn’t know you were following him?” Millhoff asks.
“Right now I’m not sure of anything. But I’ve never been burned before.”
“Anybody else know about you watching him and what he was up to?”
“Leslie Costello knew I was watching him but not what he was up to.”
“Former cop Costello turned defense attorney?”
“Yes. We go out on occasion. Talk about work.”
“We’ll need to talk to her.”
“There’s no connection there, but do what you gotta do.”
“Anyone else you can think of you may have talked to?”
“No,” I say. “I was coming home to write it up for his mother and give her a call after.”
“You were coming straight from the GW area?” he asks.
“Yeah. His car wasn’t there, so I figured he finally went to a class.”
“Approximately what time in the morning did you leave your home?” Hurley asks.
“Maybe oh-seven-hundred. Wanted to try to catch him leaving his place and going to class. Like I said, the car wasn’t there, so I stuck around for a bit. I’m guessing patrol got dispatched for sound of gunshots here.”
“Yeah,” Millhoff advises.