“I personally would have gone for chocolates or roses, but then again….” Casey shrugged his massive shoulders. “That’s something I’ve learned from my wife.”
“I spoke with the oldest son.” Kane refused the gum Casey offered him with a shake of his head. “He was wholly unhelpful. ‘Everyone loved Shing. No one had anything bad to say about him.’ Someone universally beloved doesn’t end up looking like he’s been run through a garlic press. Those kind of people die peacefully in their bed.”
“You and Sanchez are on this.” The smell of fruity gum got stronger when Casey leaned in toward him. “I watched a bit of you with the son. That’s a cold son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, Bradley Shing.” Kane made a face at his coffee. “He was too calm. He didn’t ask to see his dad. If it were me, I’d be tearing the place apart until I had proof. You saw him. It was like I was ordering up a bowl of soup. He didn’t give me anything to go on but a bad feeling.”
“Not everyone’s got Donal Morgan for a father,” The lieutenant reminded him. “You believe what the son was selling you? That no one hated his old man?”
“I haven’t spoken to anyone else yet, but Miki St. John seems to hate him,” Kane said, jerking his chin toward the interview room where his partner sat with the singer. “But he’s not talking about it. He could have had someone kill Shing for him, but my gut says the guy was really shocked when he saw Shing’s body in his car. We’ll have to check on his financials to be sure.”
“Find out what Shing and St. John had going on between them.” Casey popped his gum between his teeth. Kane’s partner was still trying to coax more than one-word responses out of the other man in the interview room, and the lieutenant grunted at Miki’s obstinacy. “That kid’s not giving anything up to Sanchez. He’s definitely hiding something.”
“I asked the family if we could take a look at Shing’s office to see if we could find something to point us to who killed him, but the son shut me down fast.” He crossed his arms and quirked a smile.
It was funny to see his smooth-talking partner being outfoxed by a pretty-faced, street-smart asshole for a change. Kel danced as hard as he could with St. John, alternating between sympathetic and nearly aggressive to wedge a crack into the young man’s steely fa?ade. So far, Kel was failing miserably, and the corners of his mouth were tight, a barely noticeable sign of his growing impatience with the singer.
“Kel said something about St. John living over the restaurant.” Kane grabbed at the stray thought before it got away from him. “I want in that room and the office. Think we can get a warrant for a search?”
“It’ll be kind of rough,” Casey drawled. “The family just suffered a loss. Judges tend to frown on making the victim’s family go through shit like that.”
“There’s something there,” Kane said. “Wish I’d known about it before I let the son go. I’d have asked him just to see how he responded. If he hit on it, I’d have pushed harder.”
“St. John had to go through the lab stuff first,” the lieutenant reminded him. “So far, they don’t like him for anything. No blood on his clothes, and the team we left behind said nothing’s in the house but the dog. No blood or anything. Well, except for the spots Lau got on the kitchen floor when the dog bit him.”
“No one shot the dog, did they?” Kane turned and gave his boss a suspicious look.
“No, they tossed it in the bathroom with a water dish. The place came up clean.” Casey popped his gum again, and from the looks of things, Sanchez’s mouth was getting thinner by the minute. “Let me go see about securing a warrant for Shing’s place. We’ll let the rock star go. Have a uniform run him home with our apologies, but put a car on the place for a bit. If he did pay someone to off the guy, that someone’s going to come by.”
“Probably,” Kane agreed. “The car’s registered to him, but he doesn’t have a license. It was up on risers, so it wasn’t going anywhere. The lab said it’ll be a couple of weeks until they release it.”
“You better go save Sanchez before he blows,” Casey commented as a flush turned Kel’s face bright red. “That kid’s going to give him a heart attack if he stays in there much longer.”
“Deal,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take St. John home myself. God knows, I can’t do worse than Sanchez there.”
“Just don’t hit on him until after we clear him as a suspect.” Casey poked Kane in the chest, glaring at him warningly. “Can you promise me that? Or am I just pissing in the wind?”
“Something about him, Lieutenant,” he admitted. There was something about Miki St. John. The man had peppered his thoughts ever since he saw him shivering half-naked in the doorway of the warehouse, defending a dog he refused to admit owning. “He grabs at my gut.”