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His gaze barely landed on the picture before he jabbed a fingertip to it. “That’s the guy… Lynnette’s boyfriend.”
“And you’re telling us the guy lived under your roof, and you don’t know his name?”
“I swear I don’t.”
The lab already had a copy of the photo to run through the facial recognition databases. She crossed her fingers for a hit. “Did you know they conspired to abduct Katherine Graves, a former police sergeant with the PWCPD?”
“No.”
“How familiar are you with Ms.Graves?” The question demanded honesty if it was going to be of any advantage.
Alan scoffed laughter. “This is utterly absurd. You don’t even have a connection between my client and the victim, yet you have him dragged in here like a criminal.”
“There is a connection, of which you know,” she volleyed back.
“The plates put on her car. Sure. We’ve covered all that, but my client’s not the one who put them there. Lynnette Johnson did.”
“But how did she come into their possession? After all, your client says she was kicked out a few weeks ago.” She recalled Barry’s half-baked suggestion that Lynnette saw them and took them, but she wanted to open the topic as if it were fresh. Amanda kept her gaze on Barry, but he refused eye contact. There was something he was holding back. “Do you have something to say, Mr.Holden?”
The lawyer sat down, flipped out his tie, and faced Barry.
Barry shook his head, but in a stiff manner, as if he were responding to the prompting of a puppet master’s strings.
“You sure?” She leaned forward across the table. “I’m getting the impression that maybe Lynnette was around more recently.” It was a jab in the dark, but based on her read of his facial and body language. The sudden denial of eye contact and his rounded, hunched shoulders suggested he wanted to deny what he said at the house.
Barry didn’t respond, and the lawyer uncharacteristically remained quiet.
Amanda sat back, passed a casual side-glance at Trent and raised her eyebrows. The silence filled her with expectation.
“Fine,” Barry eventually said. “She came around last week.”
“Day?” she fired back.
“Wednesday.”
Every second they were in here, Katherine was out there. She tamped down her impatience so as not to put Alan Gaines on the defensive. “Why was she there?”
“She begged to come back, said she wanted away from the guy.”
This sounded like a cover story. She’d looked rather cozy with the man at East End Pirate Sunday night. Or had she seen the plates when she lived with Barry and concocted her own plan? Did she think taking them might help police track her down? But there was an obvious hole in Barry’s story. “If Lynnette was there, why didn’t you return her things to her?”
“She never asked, and I never thought of it. Not everything is a conspiracy, Detective.”
Snide response, but she’d let it pass. Besides, it was in their favor that Lynnette hadn’t reclaimed her things. “Going back to the plates, would she have known they were kicking around?”
Barry nodded. “I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”
“How?”
“She’d been in my garage with me before, she’d even walked around the space, looking at the shelves.”
“Why didn’t you share any of this with us before today?” Trent’s cheeks were flushed, and he was clearly aggravated.
“Hold up,” Alan said. “My client has been cooperative with you. Save the lecture.”
“Lecture?” Trent spat. “Time was wasted. Yours, ours. Meanwhile Katherine Graves remains in the hands of a madman.”
Barry all but shrugged, and his probation officer’s words came back to Amanda. He was out for himself, or at least most of the time. It seemed Lynnette Johnson had penetrated his armor.
