“So she wasn’t prepared for me to go at her—or to point out the photo of Whitt’s daddy and her on her wall. They’ve definitely tangoed.”
“Is that right?”
“Bank on it. From there we got a completely different vibe from Kendel Hayward.”
Roarke listened, shared bread with her, filled her water glass, as she’d go back to work.
“So the bad girl from high school found her way,” he concluded. “Most do.”
“She credits her parents for stepping in—stepping on her, and hard. They’re divorced, and he’s running some tropical dive shop, but she spoke of them as a unit.”
“To her, they are. Her parents.”
“Yeah, it seemed … healthy. Of everyone we talked to today, there are two I felt were honest, didn’t hold back. That would be Hayward, and your Rodriges.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
?
??Move to Marshall Cosner and Stephen Whitt? Good thing they can afford lots of pants because the ones they had on were on fire before we were done.”
As she ran through the interviews, Roarke thought it a kind of expert play-by-play, the sort that put the listener into the game so clearly he could hear the tones, see the movements.
He nodded, and sat back with his wine.
“So Whitt’s your man.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. I could hear it. How much of a dupe do you figure Cosner is?”
“I figure he looks to Whitt—and has for years—to lead the way. He gets off on the violence, no question, but he’s no planner. Miguel said he thought they’d kill him, and I think, even then, if Whitt had said to Cosner, ‘Hey, pal, pick up that rock over there and bash this asshole’s head in with it,’ that’s just what Cosner would have done.”
She nudged her plate aside. “He’d have felt a little queasy about it when the high wore off, when he was alone, but he’d have justified it. Guy deserved it; besides, Steve told me to. Miguel also said he thought Grange knew. She knew who’d tuned him up, and she covered. It’s how she operates.”
“You’ll take her down as well.”
“It’s going to be a pleasure.” Picking up her water glass, she toasted. “A really serious pleasure. I may not be able to put her in a cage, but when all this comes out, she won’t be able to get a job cleaning toilets in a school much less running one.”
“It sounds like the punishment you’re aiming for fits the crime.”
There she shook her head. “I wish it could be more, because she and Whitt, they’re the same. Power over the weak and vulnerable is what fuels them. She may not be involved, directly, in the murders, but she helped create them.”
“What will I do to help you take them down?”
“I’m doing a follow-up with Cosner—with his legal team headed, most likely, by his father—in the morning. We made sure Daddy got wind of the cops looking at his boy.”
“Forewarned?”
“Not exactly. I think in this case, Peabody and I called it right. The father knows the son is a fuckup. They’ve been through the cycle, covered for him, given him busywork to try to keep him straight. This? Murder? It’s going to be a bridge too far. What does that mean?”
Frowning, she stopped herself. “How can a bridge be too far? Too far from what? It has to go from here to there. Why did I even say that when it makes no sense?”
“I have no comment,” Roarke said, wisely.
“Anyway, I’m going to break young Cosner, and offer a deal. He flips on his pal, he doesn’t spend the rest of his life in a concrete cage off-planet. Meanwhile…”
“Will I have fun?”