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Viotto shrugged. “Depends on when he went through the car. If no one was around, he’d have enough time to search the car and leave.”
“He was looking for the evidence against Senator Grayson.”
“Probably found it, too.” Viotto tucked the keys into his pocket. “He thought he had the only copy. He didn’t know Connor had also given one to his ex-girlfriend.”
“Until we figured it out. But if the whole point of this was to keep that information out of the media’s hands, then he failed. Everyone will know soon enough. And if Apex wants to, they could hang him out to dry.”
“He’s gotta keep his head down.” Viotto looked around like the garage held all the answers. “If he can get away with murder, he’s fine. And so is Apex. But if he gets caught, he has a choice. Keep his mouth shut and earn Apex’s respect, or snitch and try to get immunity.”
“Which do you think he’ll choose?”
“Depends on the kind of killer he is.” Viotto shook his head. “And we just don’t have enough on him yet.”
Cassie paced the area next to the car. “We know he killed Connor execution-style while he was begging for his life. He had no remorse and didn’t even hesitate to pull the trigger. We also know he’s smart enough to get away with murder. There was no evidence left behind, no witnesses, and a suspect in custody in under twenty-four hours.”
“Even if the shooter isn’t a cop, he knows someone who could’ve helped him get away with it.” Viotto shook his head, and Cassie could see the anger in his eyes. “God dammit.”
“Who would’ve had access to the gun? Who could wipe any record of it?”
“Either someone with a lot of clout or someone with a lot of money.” He put his hands on his hips. “If Apex has infiltrated the local police department, it could be multiple people.”
Cassie nodded. “Compartmentalize. Each person completes a single step, independent of everyone else, and all of a sudden, you’ve covered up a murder and half of them don’t even know it.”
“There has to be a point person.”
“And that person is most likely the killer.”
An engine revved somewhere on the other side of the Mercedes. Viotto and Cassie peered over the top of the car and saw Detective Davenport pull up to the FBI agent and exchange words. The detective waved them over.
“That’s the car that followed us here.” Viotto shook his head in confusion. “I’m sure of it.”
They approached. Davenport was staring at Cassie. “Been looking for you.”
“Me?” She looked up at Viotto, then back to the detective. “Why?”
“You were right about Lewis. We got him on video across town. There’s no way he could’ve done it.” Davenport sighed. “You might turn me into a believer after all, Ms. Quinn.”
It always felt good to be appreciated. “Glad I could help.”
“I’m hoping you’ll do us one more favor.” Davenport pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between his lips. The wind carried the click of the lighter. He puffed, then nodded. “Now that Lewis is off the hook, I’m getting pressure to close the case. I already screwed up once. Don’t plan on doing it a second time.”
“How can I help?” Cassie asked.
“I’ve got a witness who says they can prove Grayson killed his son. I’m on my way to talk to her right now.” He gestured to Cassie with the tip of his cigarette. “Truth is, I don’t have a good feeling about this. I’d like a little backup. Of the psychic variety.”
Cassie and Viotto exchanged another look. When she shrugged, Viotto nodded to Davenport.
“Lead the way.”
37
Viotto followed Davenport out of the city until they reached a house at the end of a gravel driveway, surrounded by a grove of pine trees. It was a modest home with two floors. He pulled to a stop behind the detective.
“No car,” Viotto noted. “Maybe no one’s home?”
“Look.” Cassie pointed out the windshield. The door to the house was wide open. “Something’s wrong.”
“Stay here.”
