The Shop

The minute Jolie was outside the building, she took out her phone. She punched in the number of her caller as she walked to the car.

“This is Special Agent Belvedere,” he said without preamble. “You wanted to talk to me?”

Jolie told him what she wanted to know. It didn’t take long, because she knew she wouldn’t get much.

“I can’t talk about that.”

“I don’t mean specifically. Just generally. Your general impression.”

Silence. At least he didn’t hang up. Jolie added quickly, “As little or as much as you would like. I just want to know your observations regarding the subject, Luke Perdue.”

“This is part of your investigation into Chief Akers’s death? That’s a little far afield, isn’t it?”

As her Irish grandmother would say, in for a penny, in for a pound. “I know, but it’s important to know what his state of mind was.”

“The chief’s, or Luke Perdue’s?”

“Both.”

Another pause. Then Special Agent Belvedere said, “If you’re talking about Chief Akers, I heard suicide was ruled out.”

“It hasn’t been ruled out.” Another lie. For a brief crystallizing moment, Jolie realized just how far off the reservation she’d strayed. “You can see why Chief Akers’s state of mind would be affected by the outcome of the hostage negotiation.”

“Damn rumor mill. Okay, I’ll only say this once, just to characterize the situation. And I insist you do not repeat this. The subject—Perdue—gave us all the signals that he would surrender.”

“Surrender? You sure of that?”

“I’ve been in hostage negotiation for fifteen years. It was only a matter of time.”

“Are you saying he wanted to be taken into custody?”

“No. I’m saying he was desperate to be taken into custody.”

“You were pretty sure he would have released Kathy Westbrook and surrendered himself to the authorities?”

“Not pretty sure. Positive. I hope this helps.” Jolie could almost hear him check his watch. “I’m late for an appointment. Are we through here?”

“Yes, we’re through.”

He said, “It’s too bad.”

“Too bad?”

“I know how I felt when it ended the way it did. You can bet Chief Akers felt the same. It could have affected his state of mind.”

“That’s what we think,” Jolie lied.

“Good talking to you, and now I really have to go.”

As she closed the phone, Jolie heard a car door slam and footsteps approaching. She looked up and there was Kay.

Kay crossed her arms over her chest. “I want to show you something.”

Her voice was too high, and her face looked pinched.

“Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” Her nostrils flared, and white lines bracketed her mouth. “Oh, you could say that.”

“Kay—”

“Would you come with me?”

“Is Zoe all right?”

“Like you care.”

“What’s this about?”

“It won’t take up much of your time. I promise.” Kay stalked to her Navigator, her shoes ticking on the pavement. Turned back when Jolie didn’t follow. “If you were ever my friend, ever my friend at all, you’d come with me.”

No choice. Jolie got in and Kay swerved out of the parking lot.

On the road Jolie asked, “You want to tell me where we’re going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

They went east on Highway 98. Jolie tried to figure out what had Kay up in arms, but the only thing she could think of was her talk with Zoe. Would Zoe go running to her mother, just because Jolie asked her about Luke’s last night with Riley?

Unlikely. Zoe would have to be a real pushover to tell her mother every little thing. But something had made Kay like this. The tight lips, the whiteness around her nose and mouth, her designer sunglasses blocking Jolie out.

In Port St. Joe, they turned onto Fifth Street and Jolie guessed where they were headed. Her parents’ house. The one that was on the market. Jolie had no idea why, but she could feel the tension, feel the anger about to spill over. It scared her. She thought that maybe Kay was this close to flying into a rage.

In front of the house, Kay slammed the car into park. The air conditioner was like a fog, clinging to Jolie’s face as she looked past the windshield at the shabby yellow cottage. “Would you mind telling me what this is about?”

Kay turned to look at her. Unseeable behind the large Dolce & Gabbanas. “I should have known better. You spoil everything you touch. You use people, Jolie. I tried to build a relationship with you, and you just used me to get what you wanted.”

“What are you talking about?” But Jolie knew that on some level what Kay said was true. She did use people. That was part of her job, and she was good at it. But always it was for a righteous cause. She’d been right to browbeat Zoe. That was what this was about. She’d hurt Zoe’s feelings. Zoe had run to her mother. But what hung in the balance? The death of a young man. A cover-up. The potential abuse of power going to the highest levels of the United States government. Her family’s complicity—

“My own daughter won’t speak to me.”

“Why? Because I asked her a few questions?”

“Riley kicked her out last night. She cut her dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry! Like that means anything. Zoe’s heartbroken. This was her best friend! She was escorted off the property like a common criminal, all because of you!”

Wait a minute. There were a lot of things wrong here. Jolie wanted to defend herself. Why had Zoe told Riley anything at all, if she knew it would upset her? Why was Riley so angry? Surely Kay could see the relationship was abusive, if Riley could go off the deep end like that. All sorts of thoughts crowded through her mind. But what she said was, “Why are we here?”

“Because it’s time you knew the truth.”

“The truth?”

Kay pulled the keys out of the ignition. “Yes, the truth.”

Jolie followed Kay up the walk to the house. There had been a garden, but no one had kept it up and the plants were yellowed and sickly. A squat garden gnome stood by the door, jolly and sinister at the same time. Jolie remembered the long crack in the front window, like a graph line. “Kay, I came here already.”

Kay punched a code into the Realtor’s lock on the front door, and they went inside. “You go ahead,” Kay said.

At that moment, Jolie felt she could be in danger. As a cop, she had a sense for that moment when things changed, and this was one of those moments. “No, you go ahead.”

Kay did.

When Skeet summoned her to his office this morning, Jolie had left her replacement firearm behind. She didn’t want to get into a fight with him over it, in light of the fact that her service weapon had been confiscated. But she still had her Walther PPK .380 in an ankle holster. It would be a little harder to access, but she was glad for the