“Lucky,” he said.
Miranda grunted and pushed some of the black hair away from her face. “How’d it go?”
“Awesome,” I replied, making a face. “You two learn anything?”
“I learned Magilla Gorilla isn’t that tough,” she said, glancing at Carter.
Carter looked like a child whose favorite toy had been taken from him by a bully. “Whatever.” He looked at me. “It was Keene who was down here.”
“Positive?” I asked, unsurprised.
“Pretty positive,” he said. “We talked to about thirty people. Houses on the walk and a couple in the alleys. We got several descriptions that match the guy.”
“The night before Darcy was found?”
Miranda nodded. “Yeah, and one guy who swears he saw him two days before.”
I looked at Carter. “Who?”
“Dude up on Cohassett. Said he saw him at Roberto’s and on the beach.”
“Believable?”
“Complete stoner, but he seemed somewhat lucid when we talked to him.”
Two days prior. Which meant Keene had been keeping tabs on me. Again, not a surprise, but not something I was thrilled to hear either.
Miranda looked at Carter. “You owe me a meal.” Carter grimaced. “I know.” “I want it. Now.”
“So order a pizza. It’s almost lunchtime. I’ll pay.” She shook her head. “Not a chance.” She turned to me. “Where’s an expensive place down here?”
“Lamont Street Grill is good,” I said. Carter gave me the finger.
Miranda turned back to him. “That’s where we’re going.” “Have fun,” I said, walking into the kitchen. “You’re not coming?” Carter asked, both curious and hopeful. “Don’t want to ruin your date,” I said. “And I’m not in the mood.”
“Why not?” Miranda asked.
There were a lot of reasons, but I didn’t feel the need to get into them at that moment. I needed to clear my head.
“I’m tired,” I said. “Go. I’ll fill you guys in later.”
“On what?” Carter asked.
I didn’t answer because I wasn’t sure.
FORTY-FIVE
Call it maturity. Call it good decision making. Call it whatever you want, but I’d come to the decision that no matter how badly I wanted Keene myself, I wouldn’t be able to do much with him. The smart course of action was to talk to Klimes and tell him what I’d learned.
It took a sandwich and two beers before arriving at that conclusion. Keene wasn’t going to be phased by any more threats I made. There wasn’t any guarantee that Klimes would help me out, but I thought he’d at least be honest with me about whether he could do anything.
Dispatch patched me through to his cell. “Klimes.” “Klimes, it’s Noah Braddock. Am I catching you at a bad time?” I heard paper crumple through the line. “Nope. Just finishing a shitty lunch. What’s up?”
“Remember that name I asked you to check? Keene?”
“Sure.”
“He’s your guy.” “On the dead girl?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me.”
I started with what Simington told me at the prison, including Keene and the smuggling, and ended with Carter and Miranda’s door-to-door.
“We didn’t get anybody to give those IDs when we asked,” Klimes said, annoyed.
“What can I tell you? Tight-knit group down here. They know Carter. They don’t know you. And Zanella’s an asshole.”
He chuckled. “I suppose. Gonna need to talk to those folks your friends talked to, though.”
“Okay. I’ll make it work.”
“And I had Keene on my short list.”
“How’s that?”
“Son, you asked me to run a name and then gave me a bullshit story about it. I may be fat and ugly, but I’m not dumb. I did my own, more extensive check. I tied some loose ends together with him and Simington.”
“You talk to him?”
