Cokes.”
“We always stayed on the up and up with Sneaky Pete,” Milt said. “We didn’t take freebies from him and we aren’t taking them from you.”
“As you wish, Detective.”
When they were back in the car, Milt said, “What’s your take on this Kevin dude who went after Rogers?”
“It’s not much, but at least it’s something.” Dantzler pulled the car out onto Leestown Road and headed toward downtown. “When you were going through Rogers’s files, did you run across any clients named Kevin?”
“None that caught my attention.”
“You’ll need to go through them again. See if you can find this Kevin.”
“Drop me off at Colt’s office and I’ll do it this afternoon.”
“That can wait,” Dantzler said. “I want to get with Barbara Tanner, see if she remembers the guy. If she does, it’ll save us a lot of time.”
“Sounds like a solid plan to me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Even in a pair of cut-off jeans and a ratty University of Kentucky T-shirt, hair pulled back tight in a ponytail, her face streaked with dirt, Barbara Tanner looked much better today than she did the last time Dantzler saw her. Life and hope had returned to her eyes, and judging by the big smile on her face, sorrow and despair had vanished.
She had, Dantzler sensed, weathered the storm surrounding the death of her boss about as well as possible. Good for her.
Barbara invited the two detectives in, asked if they wanted something to drink-they declined-and apologized profusely for the mess in the house and for her sloppy appearance.
“I’m cleaning places that haven’t been touched in years,” she said. “It’s simply dreadful, the dirt and dust and cobwebs I’m finding. I should be horse whipped for neglecting things this long. It’s unforgivable.”
“You look really good,” Dantzler said.
“Oh, I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am,” Barbara answered, beaming. “When Mr. Rogers died, I was scared to death about being out of work. At my age, in this terrible economy, I thought it would be really difficult finding full-time employment. But you know what? I had three job offers the day after the funeral. All of them with really good, respectable firms. I couldn’t believe it.”
“That speaks volumes about your reputation within the legal community,” Dantzler said. “Have you made a decision yet as to which offer you’ll take?”
Barbara nodded, said, “I begin work Monday at Adler, James, and Young. Doing basically what I was doing for Mr. Rogers, but with a bigger paycheck and better benefits. I really lucked out, didn’t I?”
“Well, I’m just very thankful. It goes to show good things sometimes come out of bad situations.”
“Listen, Barbara, I need to ask you about a guy who may have been one of Colt Rogers’s clients. If he was a client, it was probably a long time ago. Twenty, twenty-five years, maybe.”
“What’s his name?”
“I only have his first name. Kevin.”
“Hmm. Let me think. Off the top of my head, I can’t remember any clients named Kevin. Do you know what he looked like?”
“Big, strong, heavily muscled. Had a hot temper and wasn’t good at controlling it. He came into the office once and directed some serious threats at Colt.”
“You know, that does trigger a memory. But the man I’m thinking of, well, Mr. Rogers represented him just prior to when I began working at the firm. I only got in on the tail end of their association, so I really didn’t know him. But the man I’m thinking of-his name wasn’t Kevin. His last name was Stone, but…”
“Ah, shit,” Milt yelled, slapping his palm against his forehead. “Kevin Stone-why didn’t I think of him? Went by the name Rocky.”
“Yes, yes, that’s him,” Barbara said. “Rocky Stone.”
“The name sounds familiar,” Dantzler said. “But I can’t quite place it.”
“He was a local kid, a boxer,” Milt said. “Pretty damn good fighter, too. Light heavyweight. I saw him fight once at the Continental Inn, back when they used to hold professional matches there. Knocked his opponent out in the second round. Johnny Richards was dead on when he said Colt Rogers had every right to be afraid. Rocky Stone was one tough gorilla. Crazy, too. He once got into an altercation in the Continental Inn bar and it took five cops to get him under control. They said he was slinging those guys off like they were raindrops.”
“What happened to him?” Dantzler asked. “His boxing career, I mean?”
“Hell, who knows? It’s no secret boxing is a crummy, dirty racket run by crummy, dirty people. My guess is he got used, abused, and taken advantage of as long as he could make some unscrupulous promoter or trainer a few bucks. Once he was no longer a financial asset, he got pitched out like dirty laundry. Rocky Stone-damn, hadn’t thought of him in ages. He had some real potential, could have been a big-time contender under the right circumstances.”
“If I’m not mistaken he ended up going to prison,” Barbara said.
“He did,” Milt said, nodding. “Got pinched for armed robbery up in the Cincinnati area. He and another guy robbed a string of pharmacies, took cash and drugs, maybe shot up one of those places. If I recall correctly, he got hit with a pretty long stint.”
“Is he out now?” Dantzler said.
“I don’t know, but I’ve got to believe he is.”
“Was Colt Rogers his attorney?” Dantzler asked Barbara.
“I think he was. Yes.”
“We need to find out all we can about this guy,” Dantzler said. “And if he has been released from prison, we certainly need to speak with him.”
“I’ll check the records,” Milt said, writing in his notepad. “Get all the paperwork, speak with his PO and try to nail down an address.”
“Good.”
“Do you think he might be the one who killed Mr. Rogers?” Barbara said to Dantzler.
“I don’t know. But from what you and Milt have been telling me, and given his past criminal history, he’s definitely a person of interest.”
“Well, I certainly don’t want to wish ill of anyone, but if he is the man who killed Mr. Rogers, I hope he burns in hell forever.”
Milt laughed out loud. “Come on, Barbara. Don’t hold anything back. Tell us how you really feel about it.”
“I’ve got a good feeling about this,” Milt said when they were back in the car. “Rocky Stone is mean enough and crazy enough to be a shooter.”
Dantzler was less enthusiastic about the possibility. The lion in his path was the twenty-nine-year gap between the first set of killings and the recent murders. In his mind, he couldn’t build a bridge that would connect them. And even if Stone did murder Colt Rogers and Devon Fraley, it didn’t lock him in as the shooter of those two kids in Eli’s barn. But if he was the shooter, why would Eli keep silent all these years? Why would he spend his life in prison for a thug like Stone? There were too many questions yet to be answered before Dantzler’s excitement matched Milt’s.
