Bennett. She thought of the blood gushing from Russ’s nose and the very public place in which she’d said some very unwise things.
Things that were now about to come back and bite her in the ass. Or worse.
Craig cleared his throat. ‘If they ask me about it, what should I say?’
Lucy sighed quietly. ‘The truth.’
Monday, May 3, 11.00 A.M.
‘I liked it a helluva lot better when she didn’t know the vic,’ JD muttered as he drove away from Christopher Jones’s neighborhood.
‘I know.’ Stevie Mazzetti studied her partner’s face. He’d been taken aback by Lucy’s admission that she knew Russell Bennett. He’d been taken aback by Lucy in general, and while under any other circumstances that might be a good thing, under these circumstances it was not. ‘Why didn’t you ask her how she knew him?’
He’d just told Lucy to stay where she was, that they’d come to her.
‘I almost did,’ he said. ‘But I figured Hyatt would have our asses for not doing it in person and he’d be right. The woman’s not quick to share, but her eyes say a lot. We need to be in the room with her when we talk to her about Bennett. Plus, we need to make sure it actually is Bennett.’
It wasn’t a bad answer, Stevie thought, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. Even though they’d been partners only a few weeks, she’d known JD a long time and knew when he wasn’t spilling all. He’d been relieved in Hyatt’s office when she’d said Lucy didn’t have a significant other. And he’d been stunned and annoyed just now when he found out she’d known Bennett.
He glanced over at her. ‘What?’ he asked petulantly. ‘You’re thinking again. I don’t like it when you do that.’
She smiled wryly. He knew her, too. ‘She’s cute. Lucy, I mean.’
This time his glance was a glare. ‘Stevie,’ he warned.
‘JD,’ she mimicked. ‘So, apart from the obvious, you’re right. We need to talk to her in person. But she didn’t do this. She’s being used for some reason. Let’s go by Bennett’s place, see if he’s home.’
‘He’d be at work by now.’ He frowned. ‘But if he’s alive, he’s got some explaining to do about those implants. He’d be able to tell us who got Jones’s cheeks, but he probably won’t. If he’s dead, we’re going to want to see his files. We’re going to need a warrant for his office either way. Gray’s not going to like us today.’
‘Gray doesn’t like us most days,’ Stevie said, although that really wasn’t true. DA Grayson Smith was one of the nicest guys a body could meet – outside the office. But at work he tolerated no bull. It would be terrifying to be on the wrong side of the courtroom when he was prosecutor. He was more dedicated than any DA she’d ever met.
Even more than the one she’d been married to, for which she’d been grateful. At least she’d seen Paul during the years they’d had together. Paul had understood the balance between his family and his job. Gray either didn’t or didn’t feel he needed to, as he had no family waiting at home. It was hard to say. Because even she, probably one of Gray’s oldest friends, had a hard time cutting through the steel exterior he’d forged.
‘I’ll call for Bennett’s address,’ she said, ‘then I’ll start the warrant. You call Hyatt.’
JD’s lip curled in a soft snarl that made him look like James Dean. She’d often wondered if that was what the JD stood for, but the one time she’d asked, he’d deftly sidestepped the topic. So she’d left it alone.
Stevie understood the value and necessity of boundaries.
‘Fine,’ he grumbled. ‘I’ll call Hyatt. I suppose it’s marginally better than requesting a warrant from Smith. Check and see if Bennett’s been reported missing. Hyatt’ll ask.’
‘He’s not been reported missing,’ she told JD when she’d hung up with Records, and gave him Bennett’s home address, a luxury condo overlooking Inner Harbor.
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