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“Not to my knowledge,” Burke said, “and I’ve seen his gun, the one found with his body. It’s not equipped to take a suppressor.”
“His killer got sloppy,” Molly murmured. “A point for our team. Although the fact that the bullet that killed him didn’t match his personal weapon isn’t in the police report, and I doubt it ever will be. Another sign of involvement. Gabe, you clearly suspected that the cops were involved after speaking with Mr. Peterson, but did you have any indication before that?”
“Yes.” Nervously, he picked at one of Shoe’s hairs that clung to his slacks. “When I went to the police station to demand an investigation the day after Dad died, my father’s old captain met with me. Said the officers on the scene found a quarter kilo of coke in Dad’s pantry.”
“Fucking bullshit,” Burke muttered.
Gabe managed a weak smile. “Yep. Said he’d hidden it with the sugar and flour. Said they’d tested it and it was a match for coke stolen from the evidence locker. That my dad had signed for it shortly before he retired. They showed me the log. The signature wasn’t my dad’s, but it was a damn good fake.”
Molly’s cheeks puffed before she blew out a breath. “Well, shit. Let me guess—they said they’d keep it off his record if you didn’t push.”
Gabe touched his nose. “Right in one. He pretended to be all serious and sad, you know?”
Her gaze became unfocused for the briefest of moments before she nodded. “Yes, I know.”
He wondered about her father, about the circumstances of his death. About how she’d coped. Because he could sure as hell use some advice. This was tearing him apart.
Burke was frowning. “I’m surprised that whoever’s pulling the strings here allowed you to have a private autopsy done. They could have ‘lost’ your father’s body or put any number of bureaucratic obstacles in your way.”
“They didn’t know. I didn’t tell them. When I found the blood sample in my pocket, I contacted a friend at the funeral home that would have tended to... to my father’s body. The owner of the mortuary is an old friend. We go back to high school. When the ME’s office released Dad’s body to him, he had it transported to the private pathologist’s office and we had the memorial service like nothing had happened. We had an urn on the front table and just let people believe what they wanted to.”
“And now?” Molly asked. “Where is your father’s body now?”
“Still with the pathologist. She’ll transport him to my friend’s mortuary when I give her the go-ahead and he’ll be cremated.” It was what his father had wanted. “I, um... I still have my mother’s ashes. Dad wanted me to mix their ashes and... Well, he wanted me to bury them at sea together.”
“Hold on that go-ahead,” Burke said quietly. “For now, anyway.”
Gabe nodded stiffly. They might need a corroborating exam at some point. “I figured as much.”
Molly met his gaze. “Is there anything else we need to know?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
Once again, her smile was kind. “Well, if you think of something, you know where to find us. I think we need to start with any cases he worked where there was a probability of high-profile exposure. For this level of cover-up, the stakes need to be big. Money or important people or other cops, even. Did your dad keep records that you know of?”
“I couldn’t find anything.” Because that had been Gabe’s first thought as well. “You’re welcome to search the house.”
“I will, if you’re agreeable to me working this case. Is that what you want?” she asked. “Again, no hard feelings if the answer is no.”
He studied her for a long moment. Her eyes were sharp, and he could almost hear the gears turning in her mind. She’d be respectful of his father’s memory, and that was important to him. “Yes, but I don’t want you to take any unreasonable chances. If it looks dangerous, you’ll bail.”
“If I feel I’m unable to handle the situation, I will call for backup,” she replied.
Burke raised his hand. “That’s me. I’m the backup. Me and the rest of my staff. Don’t worry, Gabe. I wouldn’t put Molly in a situation she couldn’t handle.”
“Then yes. I’d be grateful for your help.” Gabe turned to Burke. “I have my winnings from the Food Network competition. I can sign it over to you now to pay for the investigation.”
Molly stood. “I’ll leave you all to the administrative details. I’m going to start digging into your father’s old cases. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
Gabe had the unsettling urge to grab her arm and beg her to stay. To not leave him. But he quelled it and let her go, hoping that she could find the answers he sought. And that he wasn’t putting her in the line of fire in the process.
Tulane-Gravier, New Orleans, Louisiana
MONDAY, JULY 25, 11:00 A.M.
Checking his reflection in the mirror on his office washroom door, Lamont gave himself a nod of approval. He was clean-shaven, his face just tanned enough to be healthy-looking thanks to regular appointments at the tanning salon.
The scar that had once bisected his cheek from his eye to his chin was barely visible now, thanks to a very talented plastic surgeon—the same surgeon who’d continued to nip and tuck over the years, keeping his face youthful and smooth. The scar had served its purpose, once upon a time, winning the sympathy of the woman who’d become his first wife.
