Connections in Death (In Death 48)

“Not Thursday night. I’m going to say I’d discouraged him from giving his hard-earned money to Dinnie. We didn’t talk about it Thursday, but we had before, a few times. I tried to show him that he was, by trying to be kind, enabling her.”

“He still had an attachment to her,” Eve prompted.

“He had this hope she’d eventually come into Clean House, or go to a meeting with him. Basically, he wanted to save her, even knowing she had to save herself.”

“He had feelings for her.”

“Not romantic ones, but romanticized ones, if you follow me.”

Because she did, Eve nodded. “Okay.”

“I backed off there some because he had to make his own choices, and it felt like he was starting to see my point. She wouldn’t let go, Lieutenant, and he had to. I think he would have, but…”

He lowered his head, took a grip on Strong’s hand. “I never saw this coming. I knew she was trouble, but not like this. Now they’re both dead.”

“It’s not on you, Matt.”

“You, either,” he said to Strong, pressing their joined hands to his heart. “It’s not on you, Lilah. I warned her off once.”

“Tell me about that.”

“Just a couple weeks ago Lyle tagged me, said he felt like he needed a meeting after work, and could I meet him.”

“Was that usual?” Eve asked.

“Not unusual. I still tag my sponsor when, for whatever reason, I’m feeling the pull. It’s backup,” he explained. “You get that. Sometimes you need backup.”

“Sure.”

“I went by the restaurant so we could walk to a meeting together, and she was out front. She was pissed because she knew she wouldn’t get anything out of Lyle if I was around. She tried to shake me down instead.”

Strong stared at him. “Jesus, Matt.”

He only shrugged. “She said she needed rent money. If I didn’t want her getting it from Lyle, I needed to cough it up—and offered me a BJ in exchange.”

“I didn’t hear about this,” Strong muttered.

“Neither did Lyle. I didn’t see the point. I asked her if she’d like me to call the cops, have her hauled in for unlicensed solicitation, unlicensed begging. Maybe I could get stalking tossed in there, too. We said a few uncomplimentary things to each other, but she left. Parting shot? Unless I was—sorry about the language—‘sucking Lyle’s dick,’ she’d get him back, and I could go to hell.”

“You should’ve told me, Matt.”

“Babe, if I told you about every time I have hard words with an addict, it’s all we’d talk about. She took off, Lyle and I went to the meeting, had coffee after. He thanked me for going with him, said he was feeling a little down.”

“Did he tell you why?” Eve asked.

“Yeah. It was the anniversary of his mother’s suicide. He got through it, and I felt like getting Dinnie off him that particular day was, well, meant, you know? He just didn’t need that shit.”

“Any other recent altercations with her, or anybody else in the gang?”

“No. I’m not in their territory. I do know Slice went into Lyle’s work right after Lyle got the job. They go back, you know, to when they were kids. Slice figured he’d come back to the gang, Lyle said he was done with that life. They got into it a little, but Lyle said Slice backed off—in a ‘fuck you then’ kind of way.”

“Any return visits?”

“I don’t think so. I really believe he’d have told me if Slice kept at him.”

Matt reached for Strong’s hand again, obviously needing the connection. “Lyle contacted me after that time, needed to talk. I know he told his parole officer, and his boss backed him up on it. Some of the other Bangers went in off and on in the first few weeks, trying to get a rise. He didn’t give them one. He stuck.”

Matt scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not easy, Lieutenant, to stick, to push back your old life, the people in it, to stay straight and sober every day when somebody’s tempting you otherwise. But he stuck.”