“Pleasant looking guys,” Cassie said.
“At least we now know who they are,” Harper added.
Cassie nodded. “Now all we have to do is find them.”
“Maybe they’re on the road to Memphis,” Hack said.
“They aren’t,” Cain said.
Hack hooked a thumb in his belt. “Wishful thinking.”
“But we know who they’re after,” Harper said. “That gives us a place to start.”
Cassie closed the images on her computer and stood. “Maybe we can convince Marla and Jason to join Dr. Buckner here at the jail. Sort of a sleepover.”
Cain smiled. “If they agree.”
“We could simply arrest them,” Hack said. “I’m sure Marla’s using and Jason’s carrying so we’d have probable cause.”
“I’d rather talk reason,” Cassie said. “At least initially.” She smiled. “But first, another chat with Jessie. See if he can throw some light on the subject.”
CHAPTER 59
Jessie Parker. Twenty-nine and already a loser. A thug, a drug dealer, a bottom feeder. A multiple murderer. That was Cain’s take. Jessie was also a dull knife. Not enough smarts to avoid getting drugged by a guy with more brains and character than Jessie was likely to see in his entire life.
The smart guy, Buck, was showering, trying to wash away the remnants of his ordeal. Jessie, the loser, sat in a hard wooden chair in the interrogation room, Cassie and Hack across from him. Cain stood next to Harper and peered through the one-way mirror/window and watched Jessie try to act tough. His words tinny as they crackled through the small wall speaker to their left.
“I don’t know anything about it,” Jessie said.
“Anything about what?” Cassie asked.
That gave Jessie a moment of pause. “About what we’re talking about.”
“What are we talking about?”
“She’s good,” Harper said. “Already has him sweating.”
She did. Jessie’s face shined, he wiggled in his chair.
“You know,” Cassie said.
“I don’t. Maybe you should tell me.” He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest.
“Let’s start with the murders of Tommy Finley and his family. You know, where Dennie Southwell got shot.”
“Don’t know nothing about it.”
“Fortunately—actually, unfortunately for you, Dennie says otherwise.”
“He wouldn’t say nothing. Even if there was something to say.”
“You sure?” Hack said.
“I am.”
“Then we’ll move on to Wilbert Shaffer,” Cassie said. “The pharmacist.” Jessie started to say something but she waved him away, “and the Currys. The couple whose house you took over.”
“Don’t know nothing about that stuff either.”
Hack leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Then there was my friend Scotty Duckworth. Shot and dumped over a ledge like garbage.”
Jessie simply stared.
“You must be the unluckiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet,” Hack continued. “I mean, being found unconscious in the back of a vehicle carrying Dennie out of town with a guy known to be part of Dalton Southwell’s crew.” He scratched the back of his hand but his hard gaze never let Jessie go. “Like you are.”
“Yeah,” Cassie said. “He didn’t make it. Myrick.”
“Never heard that name before.”
“Then you won’t mind that I pumped a couple of rounds in his chest. He’s over at the morgue.”
Jessie stiffened. Some of his bravado seemed to evaporate.
Now Cassie leaned in. “What is Dalton up to? Why is he hanging around? Why not just cut and run? Why did he bring in Myrick, Harris, and Navarro?”
Jessie tried to hide it but his pupils widened, his mouth tightened.
“We know all about them. Frankie, too.”
Jessie looked around the room as if seeking an escape hatch.
Hack lifted his weapon from his hip and laid it on the table, muzzle angled toward Jessie’s chest. “Don’t even think about it, partner. I’ll shoot you dead and I’ll enjoy doing it.” Hack patted the weapon with one hand. “Or maybe I’ll just shoot you in the leg and step on your face.” He raised one foot. “I wear size eleven and a half.”
“I love him,” Harper said. “He would’ve made a good CO.”
“That’s a fact,” Cain replied.
“I ain’t got to talk to you about nothing,” Jessie said.
Cassie stood, scraping her chair back. “No, you don’t. You know what? That’s fine with me. We’ll simply hang all this on you.”
Cassie and Hack left the room and joined Cain and Harper near the window. Jessie leaned on the table, his face in his hands.
“Guess we’ll have to find Dalton and his guys on our own.”
“Mind if we have a chat with him?” Cain asked. “Maybe explain things to him.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Not waterboard him,” Cain said, “if that’s what you’re thinking.”
That drew a smile from her. She glanced through the window toward Jessie, hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Just don’t do any harm.”
“Tell you what, why don’t you and Hack grab some coffee? Let me and Harper handle this?”
Hack nodded. “If we aren’t witnesses we won’t have anything to say to the judge.”
Cassie gave him a look.
“I promise,” Cain said. “I won’t lay a finger on him.”
Cassie nodded. “Come on, Hack. We still have a long night ahead it seems and I could use some coffee.”
They left.
“Glad you said you and not we,” Harper said.
“Didn’t want to handcuff you.”
Jessie lifted his head from the table as they entered. “Who the fuck are you?”
“A couple of interested parties,” Harper said.
“Yeah, I saw you two over at the hospital.” His chin came up. “Not that I give a shit, but what exactly are you interested in?”
Harper stepped forward and leaned straight-armed on the back of the chair that faced Jessie. “We’re curious exactly how much pain you can tolerate before you break.”
“What?”
“See,” Cain said, stepping up beside her, “we aren’t cops. Actually we aren’t anything.”
“Except skilled in handling punks like you,” Harper said.
“We’re in a police station. You can’t do that.”
“Really?” Harper said. “We’re in a police department? I hadn’t noticed. I thought we were in some bunker in
