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“I can, but it’s not my usual mode of operation. I’m a sheriff, not an undercover detective. It’s not really my skillset. Which is why I tapped Jason to help. I can get the easy stuff like arrests, real estate records, and bank accounts. He can get so much more, and then sift through it to see what really matters.”
“Maybe my paranoia isn’t so strange after all.”
They pulled up in front of a rundown home in a neighborhood that had seen better days. There were a few people sitting on their front porches, but for the most part, no one was milling about.
“You can stay here in the car if you want. We can lock the doors.”
“No thanks, I’m going with you. I want to hear what he has to say.”
“He probably won’t say much, and there’s a good chance that what he does say will be a lie.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
Maybe Grant had some sort of strange cop bull-detector.
“According to his arrest record, he’s something of a conman. He’s basically a professional liar.”
“If he won’t tell the truth, then why are we talking to him?”
“Because he might let some truth slip out accidentally. There’s usually a spot of truth in a good lie. It makes it more believable.”
Grant knocked on the door, the sound of shuffling on the other side before it opened. A slim man with graying hair and a goatee stood in the doorway. Barefoot and wearing shorts and a t-shirt, the man was scowling.
“What do you want? I’m not registered to vote, and I won’t buy anything you’re selling.”
Well, hello to you, too. We had arrived unannounced, so the man’s hostility was understandable.
“I was hoping we could talk to you - briefly - about your former cellmate, Kevin Fuller.” To Mia’s shock, Grant pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket, holding it out to Gillette. “We would, of course, pay you for your time.”
Gillette’s gaze darted from Grant to Mia and then back again, obviously wondering if this was a legitimate offer. The older man snatched the bill from Grant’s fingers and then stepped back.
“I guess you can come in.”
They were definitely going to have a conversation later about paying people to answer questions.
The inside of the apartment wasn’t much better than the outside. The walls were a particularly depressing shade of gray, and the furniture was worn and frayed.
“What do you want to know about Fuller?” Gillette barked, settling on the sofa, and lighting a cigarette. “He’s a dumb bastard, I’ll tell you that.”
“Why is Fuller dumb?” Grant asked. “Because he got caught?”
“He got caught because he got greedy. If he hadn’t hit every house that he visited, his ass wouldn’t be sitting in a jail cell right now. That’s what I told him, too.”
“What should he have done?”
“Paced himself, of course. Not hit every house, take his time between hits. It was a good second income source, but he wanted more and more. Eventually, he got sloppy. Now he’s paying the price for that shit.”
“How did you get caught?”
Gillette chuckled and took a long drag from the cigarette.
“By being greedy as fuck. I know what I’m talking about. That’s what’s wrong with the younger generation. They don’t listen for shit. They have to learn everything the hard way.”
“What did you and Fuller talk about?” Grant asked. “Did Fuller every mention women? Or any particular woman on the outside?”
“We all talked about women. Fuller had a girl if that’s what you’re asking me. She had a name like an apple. What was it? Honey? Cameo? Shit, no it was Gala. I asked him it was short for something, and he said no so I guess her parents named her after a goddamn apple.”
“Did he talk about anyone else? He had been l living with someone shortly before he was arrested.”
