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Lesley shook her head.
“What happened when your brother called?”
Lesley relayed the meeting and how she couldn’t leave to catch up with him. “I really fucked this all up, didn’t I?”
“Hmm. No. I don’t know Mr. Wonderful like you do, but he seems to be a straight up guy. If it was over, he’d be man enough to tell you.”
“You don’t think his silence says it all?”
Stina looked over the rim of her mug. “No, but you took almost two weeks to message him, dumbass. I’d be more than a little pissed with that.” She took a sip. “Besides that, it seems like he’s been slammed with this case.”
Lesley clutched the tea mug between her hands and breathed in the scent. “I know. Sounds like it’s almost over.”
“Hard to believe Smith is dead. He was a piece of shit, but he deserved punishment, not death.”
“I woulda settled for him spending some time in jail and a bad conduct. Thompson, on the other hand.” Lesley gestured. “I don’t know what to make of that one.”
Stina pursed her lips. “Woooo, yeah. That was out of left field. He’s always been so on top of shit. Goober, sure, but funny about it, right? I wonder what else is going to come out of all this. Hopefully, no one else in the unit is involved.”
Lesley nodded and took a drink of her tea.
“What are you gonna do?” Stina asked.
“I need to see him, of course. Tomorrow, after work. At least that way, if he is dumping me on my ass, I’ll have the weekend to get over it.”
“Such the optimist. I think you’ll have the entire weekend to make up.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Antony leaned against the wall opposite of the one-way glass in the small antechamber to the interrogation room. Inside, Specialist Thompson sat at the table, hands folded. The steel cuffs around his wrists shone in the harsh fluorescent light. He sat up straight and looked at the window as though he could see through it.
Simon and Randall walked through the door.
“You got your head on straight for this?” Randall asked.
Antony pressed his lips together and stared at Thompson. “Yep. I’m good.” He turned and looked at the man. “This is only a formality at this point. He’s done. Lesley and Charlie are both fine. It’s over. I just want to see what he has to say.”
Randall looked him over and nodded. “Carwell’s on point for this. You know the deal.”
“I get it.” Antony held his hand out to the door. “Shall we, Simon?” He followed Simon through the door and stood with his back to the middle of the window where Thompson had been staring.
Thompson stared at Antony, unblinking. “Five more minutes and that bitch would have been ruined,” he said, sneering. “Prosser always thought she was too good for everyone. She had it coming to her.” His eyes narrowed, and he turned his head and spat on the floor. “We were going to share her. Fucking sucks you had to show up and wreck the whole thing.”
Thompson had taken that mask right off and burned it. The man sitting in the chair in front of him was not the man he’d spoken to, not the man the people in his unit thought he was. They knew him as a good guy, but apparently, he was just an amazing actor.
It took every bit of discipline that Antony possessed to not leap over the table and pound the young man’s face in. It took even more to keep his face impassive. As Thompson stared at him, the smirk washed off his face and a slight unease replaced it. Good.
“I take it this means you don’t want a lawyer present,” Antony said dryly.
Thompson shrugged and flexed his fingers.
“You need to say the words, Thompson. You’ve been read your rights. Do you want a lawyer present?”
He scowled at Antony. “Nah. I’m good.”
“Why did you go after the woman who was with me a few months ago?” Antony asked.
Thompson smirked. “That was Hunter. Some dude thought she was cute, so paid for her compliance. You were busy with Prosser.”
