I sighed. “Can you send me a picture of the guy?”
“If by doing so, are you going to do something illegal, and does that make me an accomplice?”
“No.”
“Why do I not believe you,” Max said absently.
“What do you want in return?”
“A raise.”
“Fat chance. I’m homeless. If either of us is getting a raise, it’s me.”
“I’ll take some of TDB’s cake, then.”
“Done.”
“All right, I’ll send you a text. Just don’t creep on the guy.” Max hung up.
My phone vibrated a minute later and a picture loaded. Yup, same guy, except his Facebook profile picture was of him with two straws in his mouth—walrus imitation, I guess. Now I was here, found the guy, and just needed to get a conversation going about his dead girlfriend.
Sure. That’d go over well.
I pushed up my old sunglasses and typed into the Internet browser. Sure enough, I found Meredith Brown’s murder mentioned in the news headlines. None too classy either.Suspect Stripper Served Justice! Murderous Mommy Found Dead!
I bet Calvin was thrilled about those.
Roger came out of the kitchen a few minutes later with a big plate and set it down in front of me. “Here you are.”
I glanced up and took the only chance I saw. “Have you seen the news today? This exotic dancer they found dead at the history museum? It said she was a suspect two years ago when her daughter was murdered.”
Even with my less-than-stellar vision, I could see Roger’s expression slide right off his face. He looked a little sick. “R-Really? Who was she?”
I feigned ignorance and looked at the phone again. “Meredith Brown.”
“Holy shit.”
I looked up. “Did you know her?”
“That bitch—” He immediately clamped a hand over his mouth and glanced at the patrons nearby. “No, it’s nothing. I, uh, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I insisted. “You should sit down, though.”
“I’m fine,” he said defensively, but he looked like he was having trouble holding it together. “Does it… say how she died?”
“Er….” I glanced at the article. It did not, and Calvin probably wouldn’t appreciate that information being leaked by moi. “No, sorry. Were you acquaintances?”
Roger looked up and snorted loudly. “As if! She was… was… my girlfriend’s mom. She killed my girlfriend,” he whispered, and now I felt like shit because his eyes were starting to well up.
I grabbed my napkin and handed it to him, then watched Roger wipe his face. “Oh. I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I really am.”
“It’s fine, man. You didn’t know.” He tossed out the napkin and handed me a new one from a container. “But I won’t pretend to be sad she’s gone. She treated Wendy like shit. And finally Wendy had had enough, and she was going to move in with me, and we were going to go to school together up in Vermont. We had it all planned out.”
I nodded. “Why didn’t the police arrest her?”
“I don’t know. I told them she killed Wendy. With ahammer, dude,” he said, sounding very much like a kid again as he spilled his guts to me. “I can’t… even think about it that much without wanting to barf. I told the police they had been fighting, that her mom was a piece of shit. She was dating the sleazy creep who owns the strip club she danced at.”
“But how did you know it was the mom?” I tried gently, keeping my voice low.
