He wiped a strand of lettuce off his chin with the back of his hand. “Witness intimidation, improper disposition of drug seizure property, possible planting of drug evidence, not pursuing cases against major supporters. That sort of thing.”
I felt a little mental click as a couple of pieces fit together. “The Galloways?”
“Exactly. After their restaurant was seized, it was auctioned. To Davis Sharp.”
The damn lightbulb finally went off over my head. “Ohhhhh. That’s Sharp’s restaurant now!”
Ryan gave me a thin smile. “Correct. And Sharp bought it for a song. The judge who presided over the seizure and the plea deal concerning the son was …” He looked at me expectantly.
“Judge Roth,” I breathed. “Who also happened to receive horking big campaign contributions from Davis Sharp, and had for the last ten years or so. Whoa. So he’s dirty?”
“It appears so. We think that the entire drug bust and seizure was a frame-up, just so Davis Sharp could get his hands on that property.” He sighed and scrubbed at his eyes. “We’d been working with the Galloways for several months now—trying to build a corruption case against the not-so-honorable Judge Roth. Unfortunately, they weren’t as cooperative as we’d hoped.”
“Why not? I would think that they’d want to see Roth taken down.”
His face twisted in annoyance and frustration. “They did. But they also wanted significant financial restitution, and fairly soon. Sam was pretty ill, and the medical bills were crushing them. They weren’t happy when we had to tell them that there was no guarantee that restitution would happen and, even if it did, it might take years. That sort of thing is completely out of our control.”
I groaned. “So they resorted to blackmail.”
His expression darkened. “That’s our best guess.”
I looked at him for several heartbeats. “Whoever killed them is also our essence-eater. But you’re not convinced that it was Roth who pulled the trigger, are you?”
He shook his head. “Judge Roth isn’t the only one who stood to lose if the corruption was exposed and not the only one in a position to be blackmailed. People who worked with him, campaign contributors, business associates … If we can ever get a break on this case, it’s going to be a pretty massive shitstorm.”
“Welcome to Louisiana politics,” I muttered.
“It’s a fucking spectator sport down here, isn’t it?” Ryan took another bite of taco. “All right, let’s keep going with the brainstorming. We also have the fact that Elena Sharp pressed charges twice against her husband for domestic violence and dropped them twice.”
I had to grimace. That one I knew about. “Unfortunately, that’s not all that uncommon. I can’t count the number of times I’ve done the paperwork to put some jerk-off in jail, only to have the wife or girlfriend—or boyfriend—come down and bail said jerk-off out.”
His mouth twisted. “All the time professing their undying love, right?”
“Something like that.”
“Did Elena Sharp strike you as that type?”
“Not really. I mean, not the undying love part, at least. Unless it was undying love of the lifestyle that she didn’t want to give up.” I rolled my eyes. “To add to the fun, there’s a rumor floating around that she was having an affair of her own—with our dear Judge Roth—and that Davis Sharp threw her out.” I gave a shrug. “But my source was a Cardio Barbie in the locker room at the gym, so who knows how reliable the information was.”
“Would that explain why she filed for divorce?” Ryan pointed out.
“I don’t think so. She enjoyed being married to money. Why would she leave that to be Roth’s mistress? She was afraid of something … or someone—so much so that she was willing to leave her comfy lifestyle.”
“Maybe Davis wanted the divorce and had someone pressure her.”
“Possible. Let’s write it all down.”
“I am, I am.” He set the pen down after a moment and pushed the pad to me. “So. Connected?”
I looked down, then looked up. “I have no fucking idea. I can’t read your writing.”