I took another gamble. “We couldn’t help overhearing you, Lisey. So that was your dad? You sounded pretty angry.”
“Oh, that’s just how we talk to each other. I mean, I love him and I know he loves me.”
I thought of asking her about the Ramones T-shirt, the one Tessa said had vanished, but decided against pressing my luck. I also decided it was unlikely Lisey had been the other person in Tessa’s car last night.
We’d gotten a lot out of her. I just wasn’t sure what it all meant yet.
She stood and brushed at her backside. “I got to get back, see if there’s any repairs I need to do before tonight’s show.”
I awkwardly rolled to one side and half pushed, half lunged my way to a standing position. In another few weeks, I was going to need assistance getting up. The thought of asking Finn to pull me was horrifying and I hoped to God we’d solved this case by then.
“We’ll be in touch, Lisey,” I said.
Finn pulled out a business card so fast I almost got whiplash watching him, and he presented it to Lisey as though it were a flower.
“Don’t hesitate to call. If you need anything, that’s my cell number on the bottom.”
He shook her hand and I noticed her give him another one of those top-to-bottom glances. She walked away, Finn watching her all the while.
“Earth to Finn. I got four words for you: twenty-five and murder suspect.”
He laughed. “Oh, c’mon, you don’t really think she killed Reed. If you did, you’d have brought her in for questioning. In fact, I think you kind of like her.”
He was right. I did sort of like her. She was plucky and independent.
We headed back to my car. The fairgrounds were calmer; the late afternoon heat seemed to have sucked the energy out of every living thing. Even the pine trees in the woods at the edge of the circus looked tired, their boughs sagging low to the ground. A few teenagers roamed through the booths, halfheartedly playing the games, but most of the families with children had left for the day.
Thinking about Finn’s words, I shook my head and wagged a finger at him, feeling an awful lot like Chief Chavez. And sounding an awful lot like Chief Chavez, with my next words.
“First truth of being a cop: be a cop. It doesn’t matter who we like or dislike. Instinct is everything, but fact is king.”
“What’d you do, memorize Chavez’s little black book? Jesus, Gemma. If you were any farther up the chief’s ass, you could start charging as a proctologist,” Finn said. “Be a cop… fact is king… Jesus.”
I stopped. “Is that really what you think? That I’m some kind of kiss-ass?”
Finn kept walking, and after a moment I hurried to catch up with him. “Well? Is it?”
“Let’s say the chief seems to favor you quite a bit, Gemma. Like he’s grooming you,” he said with a shrug. “Just be careful. You can make a lot of enemies on the way to the top. Some of the others don’t exactly appreciate getting passed over for plum cases like this one.”
I grabbed Finn’s shoulder and spun him around. “Are you kidding me? Chavez didn’t give me this case. I was in the fucking room when the call came in. It’s that simple. It always has been. You get the call, you get the case. Who’s got the problem with me? Moriarty? Armstrong?”
He sighed and thought a moment. “Look, I’m only telling you this because we’re partners, now, right? All for one, and one for all? I know you’ve been holding that home invasion case against me, but the truth is, I got nothing against you, except when you don’t shut up and listen when you should. No one was going to answer for that little girl who got killed, and the DA and I did what we needed to do to make sure those assholes didn’t hurt another kid. Am I proud of what we did? No. Would I do it again? You bet! You can quote Chavez’s little rule book all you want, Gemma, but when push comes to shove, it’s our job to put the bad guys away, no matter what it takes.”
“Even when that means crossing the line yourself?”
Finn nodded. “It’s always been about the lesser of two evils, Gemma. Always.”
I understood his rationale. I just wasn’t sure I could ever live it.
“Who’s pissed at me?”
“Yesterday I heard Moriarty bitching to someone on the phone that maybe Chavez put you on the Bellington case as the department’s fall guy,” Finn said. He shrugged. “That was all I heard.”
I was stunned. First, that Moriarty would say that. I’ve never had a problem with Moriarty. And second, that there was even the slightest possibility that the chief would do that to me… give me a case, thinking that I’d fail him.
Fail the department. Be the fall guy-for the family, the press, and the town. The guy the shit rains down on when the case goes unsolved.
“Who the hell was on the other end of the line?”
“It doesn’t matter. When Moriarty saw me, he got off the phone real quick.”
As if I didn’t have enough to deal with already. Well, Moriarty could just sit tight and watch me solve this case. And just maybe solve the Woodsman murders, too, with a little help from Nicky Bellington.
We got into my car and I tried to shrug off Finn’s words. I relived our conversation with Lisey.
“Do you think Lisey was telling the truth? About that being her dad on the phone?” I asked.
Finn didn’t answer, and I looked at him as I started the ignition. He lifted his right index finger to his lips and dialed a number on his cell with his left hand.
“Ah, yes, sir, this is Mr. Smith with the U.S. Census department. We’ve had a bit of a sticky situation with our records, and I’m just calling folks in town, confirming current residents,” Finn said with a perfect Boston accent. He listened for a moment and then held the phone away from his ear.
“All right then, sorry to trouble you, sir. You have a great day.”
Finn clicked off the phone and smirked at me. “Well, she’s a good little liar, I’ll give her that much.”
“How on Earth-” I began and the image of Finn holding Lisey’s phone flashed across my mind. “You sneaky son of a bitch.”
“The sneakiest,” he said, and leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. “Dude was pissed. Said he didn’t have to talk to no fucking census department because he didn’t fucking live there and was only a fucking renter because the fucking government couldn’t get him a fucking job and fuck you, motherfucker, for ruining my beautiful fucking day.”
“Wow, that’s some real pretty language. Get a name?”
Finn shook his head, his eyes still closed. “Nah. But we can trace the number when we get back. I don’t think the dude’s going anywhere.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
While Finn’s charms may have worked on Lisey, they had no effect on Tilly Jane Krinkle. I introduced the two of them and she paid about as much attention to him as a cat would to a saucer of sour milk. The librarian led us down into the basement archives, and as she stroked the stuffed parrot and cooed to it, I saw Finn’s mouth open.
I quickly elbowed him and shook my head. The last thing we needed was to piss off Tilly.
She said, “All right, kiddos, the space is all yours. Now, there are a couple of rules and yes, I know you are police officers but I don’t give a god dang rat’s butt, you follow the same guidelines as everyone else. And I ain’t asking, I’m telling.”
Tilly waited until we nodded our heads and then continued.
“There will be absolutely, positively, no marking, drawing, or otherwise writing on these materials. There’s a copy machine around the corner. If you remove something from a box, place it back in the same god dang spot. Don’t shelve or return anything yourselves; you’ll put it in wrong and then we’ll never see it again.”
Tilly cocked her head and closed her eyes and then jerked to the side with a violent spasm. Finn and I jumped at the sudden movement.