Isenberg had decided that she and Trip would conduct the interviews since Deacon and Adam were obviously biased, in different ways. She was saving Scarlett as a pinch hitter should the need arise.
Isenberg had also confirmed Nash’s claim that Wyatt hadn’t been the Narcotics lieutenant’s first choice for her team. She’d asked Nash to wait upstairs in the briefing room in case they needed his help and he’d agreed. She’d informed Wyatt’s boss that Wyatt was a ‘person of interest’ in their investigation and the head of Narcotics cooperated fully because Wyatt had disappeared and wasn’t answering anyone’s calls.
IA was now involved and that sent Adam’s gut on another tortuous roll. Internal Affairs had been anathema in his house. His father and his buddies would actually spit after saying ‘IA.’
‘We need to ask you a few questions,’ Isenberg said. ‘I’m—’
‘Lieutenant Isenberg,’ Jim Kimble interrupted mockingly, his lip curled into a sneer. ‘I know who you are. What I want to know is why you’ve hauled me down here like some common thug.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘What’s that useless son of mine done now?’
Adam winced and Deacon actually growled. Scarlett was visibly taken aback. As was Trip, on the other side of the glass, although he controlled his surprise quickly, his expression flattening to merely bored.
Nicely done, Adam thought. Trip was solid.
‘S’okay, D,’ he said aloud, giving Deacon’s shoulder a pat. ‘Not anything I haven’t heard before.’
‘Nash was right,’ Deacon muttered. ‘We did abandon you. I abandoned you. I let that miserable fuck of a father tell you that you were weak for taking a mental health leave. I let him tell you that you were useless.’
‘He would have said those things regardless,’ Adam said practically. ‘You know it.’
Deacon shook his head hard. ‘I should have stopped him.’
‘Let it go, D,’ Adam murmured. ‘You’re here right now. And that’s everything. Let’s listen now, okay?’
Deacon just growled in response, which made Adam want to grin. But he didn’t because Isenberg had motioned to Trip, who unzipped the rifle case he’d carried in and put the rifle on the table. It was tagged and unloaded. Trip had made it a point to triple check.
‘We have a few questions about this,’ Isenberg said, indicating the rifle.
Jim Kimble frowned. ‘What? It’s not mine. I don’t own that model.’
‘This isn’t just any rifle,’ Isenberg said. ‘This rifle was used in a robbery thirty years ago. You and your partner, Dale Hanson, stopped the robbery and confiscated this rifle.’
Jim’s eyes narrowed. ‘It was stolen,’ he said curtly. ‘Out of our cruiser.’
‘Where was it parked when the rifle was stolen?’ Trip asked in his deep rumble.
Jim’s eyes shifted to the Fed. ‘I don’t know you.’
‘I’m Special Agent Triplett, FBI.’
‘And?’ Jim asked belligerently. ‘Is that supposed to impress me? What does the FBI want from me?’
‘The FBI wants you to answer my question,’ Trip said levelly. ‘Now would be good.’
‘The rookie’s good,’ Deacon murmured.
Yes, he is, Adam thought.
Jim’s expression turned stony. ‘It was parked in front of the diner where we’d had lunch. Just like the report says.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Trip said. ‘Neither did IA when they put you and your partner on unpaid leave to investigate.’
Adam’s eyes widened. He hadn’t known about that. But then . . . ‘I think I remember this. He was home for a long time and there was a lot of yelling. And drinking. My mom cried a lot. I was five.’ Which would have been the same year as the rifle went missing.
‘The math computes,’ Deacon agreed with a nod. ‘I didn’t know either.’
Jim’s face turned red at the mention of IA and their investigation. ‘That was bullshit,’ he snapped. ‘Those IA SOBs never found nothin’.’
‘No, they didn’t,’ Isenberg said. ‘But they might reopen the investigation now.’
Jim’s eyes bugged in shock and rage. ‘What the fuck? It’s been thirty years! Why would they open that can of worms again?’
‘Because this rifle was found at the scene of a shooting last night,’ Isenberg said sharply. ‘And it’s been used three times in the past two days. Once to target your son.’
Jim straightened in his chair. ‘Did he accuse me? That bastard. And you believe him? You’d take the word of a washed-up—’
‘Stop right now,’ Isenberg said sharply, then drew a breath and let it out. ‘Detective Kimble did not accuse you,’ she said more calmly.
‘Bet he didn’t defend me either,’ Jim grumbled.
‘You’d win that bet,’ Adam muttered.
Deacon snorted. ‘Once an asshole . . .’
‘Shh,’ Scarlett scolded. ‘I’m trying to listen.’ She bumped Adam’s shoulder again. ‘I wanna hear Isenberg tear him a new one.’
Adam smiled at her reflection in the glass and Scarlett smiled back. But Isenberg had pulled her composure back on like a cape and was coolly regarding his father.
‘This rifle,’ she said, ‘has been used in two murders this weekend alone. Now, I’d like to know where your vehicle was when it was stolen. You’re not immune just because you’re retired. An investigation could result in the loss of your pension.’
Jim’s nostrils flared. ‘Bastard kid of mine,’ he muttered, but his eyes flicked around nervously. ‘I stand by what’s in the report.’
‘He’s lying,’ Scarlett murmured.
‘Of course he’s lying,’ Deacon said with an eye roll. ‘The question is why?’
Isenberg’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you protecting someone?’
Crossing his arms over his chest, Jim stared straight ahead mutinously.
‘Well, we have your old partner in the next room. We’ll see what he has to say. Whoever tells me the truth first gets my recommendation for leniency with IA. And with the prosecutor.’
‘My wife is sick,’ Jim said when Isenberg moved to leave the room. ‘If I lose my pension, she’ll lose her insurance. You’d do that?’
Adam felt the blood drain from his face. His mom had to maintain her insurance. She’d die otherwise. He started for the door, but Deacon and Scarlett each grabbed one of his arms and held him in place.
‘Trust her, Adam,’ Scarlett said softly. ‘Trust Lynda to do the right thing.’
‘Okay.’ Adam nodded, forced himself to relax. ‘You can let go. I’m okay.’
Isenberg appeared unruffled at the prospect of Tammy Kimble losing her medical care. ‘No, Mr Kimble. You’d be doing that.’
Jim looked away, shaking his head. ‘You’re as big a bitch as everyone says.’
Isenberg actually smiled, but it was her coldest and most ruthless smile. Had Adam not trusted her implicitly, he’d be terrified right now. He just hoped his father was.
‘Thank you, Mr Kimble. Are you going to insult me some more or are you going to tell me what I want to know? Because I will follow through.’
‘Bitch,’ Jim muttered. ‘It was parked in Hanson’s driveway. He’d gone home to see his wife. She was sick at the time.’ Defiantly, he looked at Isenberg then at Trip. ‘She had cancer and she’d called him because she needed a doctor. We’d both rushed into the house to help her, and after we called the ambulance, I told Hanson I needed to move the cruiser ’cause we’d get written up if the medics saw it in the driveway, because we were on duty.’
‘Surely they would have made an exception for that,’ Isenberg said quietly.
‘We didn’t want to find out for sure. I went out to the cruiser and found the trunk pried open. Looked like a crowbar. The rifle was gone, along with a couple other guns.’
‘What did you do?’ Isenberg asked.
Jim shrugged. ‘Dale was scared for his wife, so I didn’t tell him till later. I just returned the car, damaged. Made a big production when I “realized” the rifle was gone.’
‘When did you tell your partner?’
‘Later that night when his wife was out of the danger zone. She ended up dying, but it took years. Every time she’d call, he’d run to her side.’
‘Did he want to tell the truth about the rifle?’
‘Hell no.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Because we both knew who took the damn rifle.’