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“We both know you probably rushed out to meet up with your favorite supplier,” Falco pressed. “Why didn’t you just get what you needed from Leo?”
“Are you fucking kidding?” Vandiver stared at Falco as if his head had done a three sixty right there on his shoulders. “Leo wasn’t into drugs, man. He would have canned me on the spot if he’d known ... fuck.” The guy snapped his mouth shut.
“Your father and Mr.Kurtz were friends,” Kerri stated.
Vandiver blinked. “Yeah. He knew my old man’s an overbearing asshole.”
“Did Mr.Kurtz ever mention any concerns he had in his own life?” Kerri asked. “Maybe he seemed distracted or worried lately.” She opted to throw in Caldwell’s comments for a reaction.
“As far as I know, he didn’t have any. Leo was cool like that. He didn’t let shit get to him. He just rolled with it, you know?”
“Had you ever seen Asher Walsh in the shop before?” Falco asked.
They had asked each employee this question as part of the preliminaries, and none had seen Birmingham’s new DDA before. It was possible Kurtz and Walsh conducted their meetings after hours or away from the shop.
Vandiver cut Falco an annoyed look. He appeared to still be pissed that Falco had suggested his former boss would sell drugs. “No. Never. The only time I ever saw him was at that big party my mom had for my dad’s birthday last month. Leo was there too.”
Kerri looked from Vandiver to Falco and back. “Walsh was a friend of your father’s?”
Another of those lackluster shrugs. “I don’t know if they were friends. But my dad knows everyone who’s anyone. Hell, the mayor and every otherbossin town was at his party.”
“Thank you, Mr.Vandiver. If we have other questions, we may need to speak with you again.” Kerri passed him a card. “Please feel free to call us if you think of anything else you want to tell us.”
Vandiver took the card and looked it over. “Can do. If you call me, just be sure you call my cell phone and not the house. My dad is not a nice guy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kerri assured him.
When he had swaggered away, she turned to Falco. “We should talk to his father.”
Falco nodded. “I’m down with that.”
Kerri stood and pushed in her chair. “If McGill and Kurtz were intimately involved on some level, maybe she knows a little more than she’s shared.”
Falco grinned. “Count on it.”
“She may have been pressuring him for a raise or some other benefit that had him doubting his decision to promote her into management in the first place. That could explain what Caldwell noted about his old friend.”
“Either way,” Falco offered, “McGill needs a little more of our attention.”
“No question.”
The door opened, and a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair walked in. He wore a designer suit that spoke volumes about where he shopped, and he carried himself like a military general. Maybe Vandiver had decided to summon the family attorney.
A little late.
“Detectives,” the man announced, “I am Special Agent in Charge Mason Cross, DEA.” He produced his credentials, then repocketed the leather case.
Cross? DEA? Kerri extended her hand. “Kerri Devlin.”
He shook her hand, then reached for her partner’s.
“Luke Falco. I’ve heard about you, Agent Cross.”
Kerri considered her partner, but she supposed it made sense. Falco had once worked under deep cover with narcotics. He likely was acquainted with a number of DEA agents.
“I apologize for barging in like this,” Cross said. “But we need to talk before this goes any further.”
“This?” Kerri pulled on her jacket.
