Kiki was right. Connor knew she was right, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Talking to his sister would mean taking his eyes off the doors, and Con wanted to see the doctor’s face when he walked out, because in that moment before he searched for Forest’s next of kin, the plain truth of the situation would be plastered on his features.
“Make it quick, Kiki.” His sister stood in front of him, and Con was doubly glad she’d gotten her height from their mother, because he could see right over her head. With one eye on the doors and a drifting attention area around Kiki’s face, Connor said, “I don’t know when they’re going to be done with him.”
“I’m not going to talk to you like you’re a civvie, Con. I need to know your impressions—especially about Ackerman. Okay?” Kiki didn’t wait for her brother’s consent, calling up her case notes with a tap of a stylus on her tablet’s screen. “Let’s start off with Ackerman. No past history of drug arrests, although his adopted father was a known pothead. Medical marijuana license issued to Franklin Marshall, and he apparently debated opening up a dispensary but never followed through.”
“And?” Connor frowned. “What’s that got to do with Forest?”
“Do you think there was any validity to the drug tip you guys got on Marshall? From what I can tell, you’ve been around Ackerman a lot in the past couple of months. You’d have had time to observe any traffic.”
“I think the strongest thing he does is booze,” he said, shrugging. “His apartment’s clean of pot stink, and there wasn’t any paraphernalia lying around.”
“So you’ve been in his place? Above the studio? Could something have been hidden there? Maybe you didn’t see it.”
“There’s barely enough room for a flea to turn around in that shit hole.” The door bumped out, and his heart seized on that slight ripple, but it was only the air-conditioning kicking in. “Most druggies will use at home. I came through the door first after the shooting, so he wouldn’t have been able to stash anything from me. Not enough time. There was nothing there, Kiki. Not even a whiff of pot.”
“He’s listed as a professional drummer. You think a musician isn’t going to take something if it’s offered to him?”
“I’ll be sure to ask Kane and Sionn that next time I see them. They might want to be on the lookout for Miki and Damie’s stash,” Con shot back. “What are you leading around to, Kiki? That he’s involved in some shit Marshall left for him? Because I haven’t seen it.”
“Let’s talk about the van, then—stolen from a Canadian couple who drove it down from Vancouver.” She consulted her notes. “Talk to me about the first thing you thought when you saw it.”
“Truth? I thought someone couldn’t park.” He stopped to recall what was on his mind when he’d seen the van jump the curb. “I didn’t think it would keep going. There’s a cash machine across the street from the Amp that’s got a camera. Did you get any footage from it? It’s not a lot of street between the building and the corner. Maybe they got something on a feed?”
“It’s been requested. Hopefully the bank manager won’t be a douche, and their legal department will just hand it over. I’ve got a witness saying they saw a person—maybe a man—but he had on a hooded sweatshirt, so she didn’t get a good look at his face. That’s why I was hoping you’d spotted him. Maybe you remember him? She said he was walking with his shoulders hunched over—like he’d been scolded.”
“Probably busy hiding his face.” Connor didn’t want to admit to Kiki he’d been more focused on Forest than paying attention to the surrounding area. Not yet. It was too new. He wanted to soak in his feelings first, and then there was the terror of Forest’s injuries. He was worried too sick to focus. “No, I didn’t see that guy. Could have been hidden by the van. Depending on the angle. That thing was huge and skewed at the right angle; it took up a lot of the open visual.”
Talking to Donal was one thing. Sharing his intimacies with his siblings would have to wait. He had no idea when and how he was going to tell his family. Although, considering he’d spent a good amount of time exploring Forest’s mouth after the wall collapse, he probably should give it some thought—like what the hell to say to his mother.
“How about someone from his past? Maybe someone he knew from the system?” Kiki tapped through her screens. “He was in eleven homes before Marshall petitioned to foster him. Mom’s got a sheet longer than a California King, mostly soliciting but a few drug busts. Kid was on track as a repeat, but I guess Marshall put an end to that. Maybe she got into something and it’s coming down on him?”
“I’ve not—” Connor stopped himself. “You opened his juvie?”