“How about you, Mr. Serrat, did you see anything?”
“Me?” Sean said. He may have been imagining it, but the detective’s tone had an accusatory edge. “No, I wasn’t near the school that night. Ryan and I were at a friend of mine’s house for dinner.”
The detective digested this. “A friend’s house?” Skeptical. He shot Emily a look, no doubt remembering that Emily had told him that Ryan and Sean were at the gym that night and that Sean had been mugged. “Do you mind if I ask who the friend is, Mr. Serrat?”
The detective was a beefy man in his fifties, gray hair, seasoned. No dummy. Sean gave the detective Cecilia’s name and telephone number. He could feel the detective scrutinizing him.
“Had you ever met William Brice before?” Whiteside asked, his tone again routine, but Sean heard something more. The detective pulled up a photo of Brice on his phone, it looked like a morgue shot. He slid his finger and another image appeared on the small screen. A headshot, a high school yearbook photo by the looks of it.
Sean examined the photos. “I don’t know this man. He doesn’t look familiar.”
“You’ve never seen him?”
“Not that I recall.”
“It’s funny, Mr. Serrat, because two of Mr. Brice’s friends say that he had a physical altercation with a man who fits your description.”
Sean scoffed. Time to play indignant. “They said I had an altercation with him? Who are these friends? Are they high on the stuff their buddy was selling?” His credibility challenged, Sean now added with conviction, “I never saw the man before in my life.”
“Do you mind if I ask what happened to your eye?”
Sean cocked his head toward the SUV, signaling Emily to get inside. “I had a spill on my bike. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m late for an appointment.”
Whiteside started to speak, but Sean cut him off, “Have a good day, detective.” Sean climbed into the SUV. He inhaled deeply and started the engine. He looked in the rearview mirror, and Whiteside was standing in the path of the vehicle. Sean put it in reverse and the detective stepped aside as they rolled down the drive.
Before the SUV reached the curb, the detective gestured for Sean to roll down the window.
“Let’s just go,” Emily said.
But Sean slowed to a stop and the window hummed down.
Whiteside said, “I just need to clarify one thing, Mr. Serrat.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t think you had anything to do with William Brice’s murder, just so we’re clear.”
Sean nodded. Good. This was heading in the right direction. No need to be paranoid.
“You know what the kids called Mr. Brice?”
“Called him?”
“Yeah, sort of his nickname or trademark, so kids knew how to find the dealer without giving any names.”
“I have no idea.” Sean knew what was coming.
The detective smirked. “They called him ‘the man in red.’ Ever heard that before? Ever seen that on Facebook or anywhere, Mr. Serrat?”
Sean suppressed a swallow. He tightened his lips and shook his head.
“You’re a lawyer, right, Mr. Serrat?”
“Yes.”
“So you know the old saying?” The detective now gave him a challenging stare.
“What saying?”
The detective locked eyes with Sean and then peered over Sean’s shoulder to Emily. “It’s not the crime that will get you—it’s the cover-up.”
CHAPTER 55
The Starbucks across the street from Georgetown was filled with students, most standing in line with backpacks slung over their shoulders or stooped at tables staring at phones and laptops. It was finals week, and the air was as frenetic as it was back when Sean and Emily were in law school. Then, and now, the entire semester came down to how well you did on a single exam. A test that would determine your class rank, which would control whether you made law review, which would influence how many employers offered you interviews.
Sean and Emily sat at a round table sipping their drinks. If nothing else, the Serrats, like the rest of D.C., were a caffeinated bunch, and this was Abby’s Starbucks. That’s what they used to call it. There was Dad’s Starbucks on Eleventh near the Justice Department building, Mom’s Starbucks on Connecticut Avenue near the house, and even fourteen-year-old Ryan had his own, the Starbucks on Wisconsin Avenue in Bethesda.