“He thought I was coaching him into what to say. It was a slight change in his tone, but he was relieved when he thought I gave him the answer that he had seen Denise that morning. When we threw the wrench out there that she might have already been dead, he didn’t know what to do—because his lie was falling apart. I’m a federal agent, yet he didn’t think it was odd that a federal agent was prompting him with a ‘correct’ answer. It was subtle, in his eyes, the way his body shifted, relaxed. He was relieved. And I got to thinking about the Young kids—and their animosity to law enforcement even though their parents hold no such animosity. They aren’t old enough to get it from peers, and their parents seem very religious and law-and-order. Former military, rules the kids follow, more freedom to roam over structured play. The kids should have liked us, or at least been inquisitive. Where did they get that animosity? Specifically, why did Ginny ask such unusual questions? I think it was because Ricky had a run-in with a cop and he told her about it, passing his fear on to Ginny. And Pollero took instruction from a cop, so had no hesitation at letting me lead him. And you yourself didn’t want to share our theory about Ricky with the sheriff’s department because you thought they dropped the ball—or might have known something more about the case.”

“I don’t think I said that.”

“You didn’t have to, it was implied. Your instincts told you something was off, but you automatically assumed incompetence. Maybe it was incompetence, but now I’m leaning against it. We can’t trust them—but we can use that against them.”

“I was with you, but then you lost me.”

“We get Pollero to talk—and he will, if we stage it. Even if we have nothing to show him, a formal setting with the president of his bank, a white collar crime expert, and we can get him to tell us everything. But not there, not now. It’s his environment, and we might be able to fluster him, but he won’t tell the truth until we put him in a different setting.”

“I like it. Okay, let’s do it.”

“If I’m right, and a cop coached Pollero, he’ll tell us. It’s just a matter of the right approach.”

Chapter Nineteen

Max got off the phone with her producer and smiled at Sean, who was working on his laptop at her hotel desk.

“Sounded like Ben found something good,” Sean said without looking up.

“Harrison Monroe was suspected, never proven, of running an illegal gaming club at Texas A and M. The other name that came up?”

“Stanley Grant,” Sean guessed.

She shook her head. “Simon Mills.”

“Victoria’s brother? You think that her brother was involved in killing her?”