“We gotta find that girl in the video,” Ty stated.
“Fuck yeah, we do,” Tate agreed. “Misty’s dead, who knows how many assignments he sent her on and now we’ll never know. That girl was not doin’ that shit because she got off on it but she got somethin’ from it. One, she could have shitloads of info and two, if there’s more where that came from, the shit that’s happening in Carnal, there’s a lot more twitchy men out there than the ones employed by Carnal PD and this mess has already seen one woman dead.”
“Maryland,” I blurted, saw Tate’s eyes come to me and felt Ty’s.
“What?” Tate asked.
I shook my head, feeling stupid butting in on the boys but I worked in a salon and I heard it all there. Everyone went to see Dominic or Kayeleen and not just ladies from Carnal, from all around.
And none of them were friends with Misty.
“She doesn’t have any friends,” I said then pulled in breath and went on, “And she’s not a pro. She was in love with Chace and, yes, maybe the promise of his father’s money but the woman I met a few weeks before she was murdered was down, beaten. Ronnie had girls and I know that kind of beaten, when life forces you into that. Some of them had just given up but most of them were hard. That wasn’t the same kind of beaten as Misty and Misty wasn’t hard. She’d had hope. She’d played her part willingly to get what she wanted, screwed in the head how she did it but hoping in the end she’d win Chace around. She didn’t. And, after they backfired, clearly she was rethinking her actions with Chace and Ty. She said in her note to Ty that another good man got caught in the net and she didn’t want to harm him further. If Trane is a jerk, she meant Chace. Everyone knows she loved him. So, she’s not a paid whore, she’s a girl who made a play for the man she loves who, if what you said was true, would never tie himself to her any other way. And, since that wasn’t her vocation, doing what we saw on that video,” I tipped my chin to the monitor, “she’d wanna be with a friend. She pretended she liked it and I don’t want to examine it up close but from what I saw, it was pretend. And to do something that gross, she’d want some safety, someone there who she could trust, someone there she was close to. And the only friend I know that Misty has is in Maryland.”
Tate nodded and muttered, “I’m on that.”
“You need to know,” Ty said at this point, “Angel called today. Keaton is also working with IA; he’s been with them thirteen months. We know Fuller instigated that inspection on Monday. What we didn’t know was the play was to plant shit. Keaton and Frank worked together to derail that plan without losin’ their cover. Frank didn’t know Keaton was with IA, he knows now and so do we.”
Tate stared at Ty in unconcealed surprise a moment before what appeared to be relief moved across his handsome features then he shook his head and whispered, “Jesus, this web is so fuckin’ sticky, everyone is caught in it.”
That was, unfortunately, true.
Ty gave me a squeeze, I looked up to him and he said, “Give Tate everything you got on the guy you saw delivering the envelope.”
My eyes went back to Tate and I told him, “Not small, not huge, a man, plaid, short-sleeved shirt. It was dark, I didn’t even get his hair color but –”
“Newcomb,” Tate cut me off and I blinked.
“No fuckin’ way,” Ty replied instantly. “Loyal foot soldier for years and that motherfucker makes Fuller look like a poster boy for Affirmative Action. Newcomb had a white hood and robe in his closet, I would not be surprised. He wouldn’t scratch an itch he had on his ass if it meant it might in some way help me.”
“Newcomb’s also got a wife who took off three years ago leavin’ him with three kids and one of them is a daughter who has leukemia and it isn’t lookin’ good. Those kids need him to go down or disappear like they need holes drilled into their heads. He’s inner sanctum, caked in mud so, they all go down, he’s fucked. He’s doin’ what he can to divert attention to the higher ups in hopes the buzzards will see him breathin’ when they pick over the meatier carcasses and leave him be. He’s also a big guy and he doesn’t ever wear tees. He’s not in a sports jacket and slacks on duty; he’s in short sleeves, always plaid.”
Ty made no reply.
Tate kept speaking. “I’ll get to the girl in Maryland. You said you were savin’ this on your hard drive, you do it?”
“Yeah,” Ty answered.
“You got a writeable DVD?”