wasn’t like her not to answer when he called. Even if she was mad at Will, Angie would have picked up the phone at least to cuss him out and tell him to stop calling.
She had been right about one tiling at least. John Shelley hadn’t said a word from the moment Will had put him in the car.
Leo Donnelly knocked on Will’s office door, opening it before he was told to. “Lawyer’s here.”
“Thank you.”
“Claims she’s a friend of his sister’s.”
Will stood up, slipped on his jacket. “You don’t believe her?”
Leo handed Will a business card, saying, “She’s a real estate lawyer.” He lowered his voice. “Hot-looking dyke.”
Will didn’t know what he was expected to say. He stared at the card for an appropriate amount of time before tucking it into his vest pocket.
Leo walked beside Will up the hallway. “I gotta tell you, she’s a big loss for our side. Know what I mean?”
Will didn’t want to have this conversation, so he asked, “Have you ever heard Michael mention John Shelley?”
“The perp?” Leo pursed his lips, thought about it. “Nope.”
“There’s a woman who works in Vice-Angie Polaski.”
Leo’s mouth shot up in a knowing grin. “Yeah, I know her.”
Will opened the doorway to the stairs. Leo didn’t look pleased that they weren’t taking the elevator down the two flights to the interrogation rooms, but the man should be glad Will wasn’t punching that grin off his face.
He told Leo, “Detective Polaski said that a couple of months ago, Michael warned her and some of the girls to look out for a con named John Shelley.”
Leo’s smile faltered as they reached the landing. “Mike knew about this guy before?”
“Seems like it.”
Leo continued down the stairs, his fingers trailing the handrail. He stopped on the landing and Will turned around.
“Listen,” Leo said. He glanced over the railing, lowered his voice. “This Polaski chick… Mike threw her a bone a while back. He’s a married guy, you know, really loves his wife but it’s not like he’s gonna say no to getting his knob polished, especially by something like that. Know what I mean?”
“What happened?”
“Polaski didn’t understand the rules. She was looking for something a little more permanent. Mike tried to let her down easy, but she’s had a real hard-on for him ever since.”
Will almost laughed at the thought of someone thinking Angie wanted to be in a serious relationship. He continued down the stairs, asking, “You think she’s making it up?”
“I think hell hath no fury, you know?”
“Yeah,” Will agreed. “But why would she make up something like that?”
Leo took a few seconds to think of an answer. He finally shrugged. “Women, you know?”
“Didn’t you tell me the other day that Gina filed a restraining order against Michael for beating her?”
“Well…” Leo stopped again. “Yeah. So?”
Will kept walking. “You didn’t seem to think she was making that up.
“No,” Leo admitted. He rubbed his thumb along his chin, a tell Will had picked up on within minutes of meeting the detective. He hoped the man never played poker. “It’s like this,” Leo eventually said, “Mike called me last night and asked me how the case was going.”
“He called me, too.”
“What’d you tell him?”
Will opened the door to the second floor. “Probably the same as you. We don’t have anything to go on.”
“Yeah, but then I mentioned that you’d asked me to pull the sex offenders list. He got all hot and bothered about it. Said it was fucking brilliant.” Leo gave Will an apologetic half-smile. “I don’t think I’m squeezing your toes when I say that going through those files was a Hail Mary if there ever was one.”
Will nodded. Shelley had been included in his group of registered offenders, but the parole sheet lacked the details Caroline had pulled for him. If Angie hadn’t asked Will to look into the man, then Shelley would probably still be out in the street.
Of course, Michael Ormewood had been the one who told Angie about Shelley in the first place.
Leo’s stride was shorter than Will’s. He struggled to keep up as they walked down the hallway, saying, “Point is, Mike’s been on the job almost as long as me. He knows it’s a long shot, too.” Will slowed his pace. “And he also knows that some smack-head pross living in the projects ain’t gonna be keeping no tidy house.”
Will stopped, thinking maybe he’d underestimated Leo Donnelly.
The detective said, “I’d bet my left one that place was scrubbed down before we got there.”
“You mentioned this to Michael?”
“He argued with me,” Leo admitted. “Mike’s usually an easygoing guy, you know? But he got real pissed when I said the place had been cleaned. He wouldn’t even put it in his report.”
“Maybe he was just being careful?”
“Careful is when you leave out the fact that you found your name in the bitch’s little black book, not when you forget to notice somebody’s rubbed down the place with a gallon of Clorox.”
Will tucked his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing now?”
Leo shrugged. “I got a couple’a three other cases I’m working. Why?”
“You mind going over to Michael’s?”
“What for?”
“Pay him a call,” Will said. “Make sure he’s doing okay.”
“I gotta say,” Leo began, “the way he’s been acting, I’m thinking right now I don’t give a shit one way or the other if the guy is okay.”
“Just check on him,” Will insisted, putting his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “I want to know where he is.”
Leo stared up at him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Sure,” he finally said. “Okay.”
Will put his hand on the doorknob to the interrogation room but didn’t open it. He closed his eyes, trying to center himself. While he was in that room, he couldn’t think about Angie or Michael or Jasmine or anything else that would throw him off his game. John was the target and Will would not settle for anything less than a direct hit.
He knocked once on the door and walked into the room without waiting to be invited. John Shelley sat at the table. His lawyer was leaning across him, holding both his hands in hers.
They moved apart quickly when Will entered the room.
Will said, “I apologize for interrupting.”
The woman stood up. Her voice was strong, indignant. She might have specialized in real estate, but she was still a lawyer. “Is my client under arrest?”
“I’m Special Agent Will Trent,” he told her. “And you are?”
“Katherine Keenan. Can you tell me why my client is here?”
“I believe you’re a real estate lawyer,” Will said. “Are you representing Mr. Shelley in an acquisition?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is he under arrest or not?”
Will started to sit, asking, “Do you mind?”
“Detective, I don’t care whether you sit or stand or levitate into the air. Just stop dicking me around and answer my question.”
John looked down at the table, but not before Will saw him smile.
“All right.” Will sat down across from them, telling the lawyer, “But, if you don’t mind, it’s actually Special Agent Trent. Detectives work in local PD. I’m with State. The Georgia Bureau of Investigation. Perhaps you’ve seen us on the news?”
Keenan was obviously at a loss to the relevance, but John seemed to realize what that difference meant. State turned up the heat. Either the locals couldn’t handle the case or the crime involved several jurisdictions.
John said, “I’m not answering any questions.”
Will told him, “That’s fine, Mr. Shelley. I don’t have any questions for you. If I did, I might ask something like, ”Where were you the evening of December third of last year?“ Or maybe I’d ask about October thirteenth.” If the
