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“I’m sure you’ve heard the news about Bishop Dietrich Mueller?”
“I have.” Savannah nodded once, her tone impossible to read.
“And how do you feel about that?”
She shrugged. “Feel? How is that relevant to your investigation?” She arched a brow, challenging Beck who didn’t seem to take that too well, judging from the ice in her voice when she answered.
“We need to uncover all possible suspects, so if you had ill will toward him, maybe you’re a suspect instead of a source of information.”
It was too much, too soon, and Beck was too emotional to realize it. Savannah gave her a thoughtful nod.
“If that’s the case, I’ll set up a time to come and speak to you with my attorney present.”
I glared at Agent Beck to get her attention, but she was too busy mad-dogging Savannah to notice.
“Look Ms. Rhymer, we’re just trying to figure out who would want to kill Mueller and Bonnie. Tell us how you knew Mueller.”
Savannah sighed and nodded. “He was an old friend and sometimes an associate of Ronan’s, so I was only peripherally aware of him on a personal level. I know he had a predilection for young girls, which coincided with Ronan’s business.”
“And you had nothing to do with that, right?”
“I kept the books for my father’s organization. Are you detaining me? Because if you have any further questions, I’d like to speak to my lawyer.”
She flashed a perfect beauty pageant smile as if nothing in the world was wrong, as if this was normal everyday business.
“What do you do here?” Beck smiled, and Savannah smiled back.
“Is that relevant to Mueller’s murder?” Savannah sat back and crossed her legs with a wistful smile. “You know, I always wondered if Mueller was a bad cop,” she added with a nonchalant shrug.
“He wasn’t a cop and you damn well know it.”
“What I know, Agent Beck, is that I don’t care either way.”
Savannah didn’t wait for another round of questions. She rose from her desk and folded her arms, staring down Beck to let her know she wasn’t the same woman Beck had first met, a woman to be bossed around. “Have a nice day.”
“We’re not done here,” Beck insisted angrily.
“Yes, we are. Maybe you don’t have better things to do, but I have a business to run.”
I was honestly in awe of Savannah in that moment. She was so different from the skinny junkie I wanted nowhere near my brother. When I met her last year, Savannah was angry and broken, but now she was strong and confident, the perfect woman for Charlie to have at his side.
Back on the street, Beck turned to look at me. “Well, what do you think?”
“I think she answered what you asked.”
It wasn’t everything she knew about Mueller, I knew that based solely on what she’d already told Maddie, but she had answered Beck’s questions.
“Don’t tell me you believe that little girl lost routine, Ellison? I thought you were smarter than that, and if not smarter, not so damn naive.”
“Naive? Are you serious, Agent Beck?”
“I don’t know, am I?”
“I hope not. You know, whoever Savannah was before, she isn’t that woman anymore. Not that I knew that version of her by anything but reputation.”
“And was that reputation good?”
I shrugged. “Honestly? Some of the guys referred to her as the Ice Queen, but I know that her father and brother easily discarded her when she was kidnapped, not something you’d do for someone who was an integral part of your organization, right?”
“Maybe,” she said, her tone petulant. Beck was quiet on the way back to the car and for the first minutes of the drive.
“Maybe you’re right Ellison. Maybe she’s not the same woman, but I don’t trust Savannah O’Connor or Rhymer, or whatever name she chooses next.”
“You don’t have to trust her to take her at her word, Beck. Let’s not get caught up in tunnel vision, or we’ll both get stuck on traffic duty.”
That pulled a reluctant smile from Beck and she laughed. “Tell me, Rookie of the Week, what you found on Mueller.”
I took the dig without comment, noting I was giving the experienced agent unsolicited advice on how to do her job. “Not much, honestly. The truth is Dietrich Mueller didn’t exist until twelve years ago. I’m still digging, but I’ll let you know what I find.”
There was something strange about Mueller, and now that I had a small piece of the thread, I wouldn’t stop tugging until I had all the answers. “What if Bonnie Ashby was just collateral damage?”
“It’s a theory. Maybe she went to Mueller for confession, but the fact that he was a known associate of the Ashby’s biggest enemy, it’s unlikely.”
She was right, and I wanted to share with her what Maddie had told me, but I didn’t trust her one bit, and I sure as hell didn’t want Maddie involved in this investigation if she didn’t need to be.
