“True, though. And it brings me to something I want to bounce off you.”
Crawford sat forward and propped his elbows on his thighs, tapping his chin with his thumb knuckles as he tried to put his thoughts into words, words that wouldn’t cause Neal to nix them just to be contrary.
“Our case is stalled, Neal. Something you said this morning has stuck with me. We’re digging in the wrong place. I’ve been thinking. Since the shooting, so many things have—”
“You’re off the case.”
Crawford went perfectly still as he met the other man’s implacable gaze.
“That’s why I called you to come in,” Neal said. “I needed to tell you. It’s effective immediately.”
Moving slowly, Crawford sat up straight. “When did this come about?”
Neal shook his head as though the timing of the decision didn’t matter. “You shouldn’t have been involved in an investigation in which you’re a material witness. The chief realizes that now. He’s going to talk to your superiors and explain that it was only as a courtesy to Mrs. Barker—”
“Who’s still a widow without closure. So why don’t you want me involved?”
“I just told you.”
“Rhetoric. What’s really going on, Neal?”
“I’m not compelled to explain the decision.”
“Not compelled. Translated, that means you don’t have the balls to tell me to my face. You’d rather be sneaky, put someone on my tail to take pictures.”
Neal cursed under his breath. “Nugent.”
“Don’t blame the kid. I didn’t give him a choice. Whose nephew is he, anyway?”
“One of the county commissioners,” Neal mumbled.
Crawford laughed without mirth. “I was asking facetiously. Nugent should get out now. He’s not cut out for this line of work.” He paused for a beat. “Why’d you have me tailed?”
Neal didn’t respond.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Crawford said. “You didn’t get any pictures of me doing incriminating stuff, did you?”
“I didn’t get any pictures of a vandal breaking into your house, either.”
Crawford just looked at him, then burst out laughing. “You think I trashed Georgia’s bedroom after spending two weeks’ paycheck and lots of time getting it ready for her? Why would I do that?”
“You don’t need a reason to go on a rampage. You’ve got a short fuse. You react without thinking. You can’t control your impulses or violent tendencies, as evidenced today at the park.”
Crawford would be damned before defending a reaction that was in perfect keeping with the scare he’d received. Instead he went on the offensive. “You know, Neal, if you’re going to lie, learn not to get trapped in it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That phone call today wasn’t from your wife, and it wasn’t about a kid throwing up. Who kept you on the phone for that long, very engrossed?”
Neal’s face turned red, but rather than answer, he asked, “What did you really say to Rodriguez up on that roof?”
“You’re still hung up on that?”
“It’s a pretty damned important ‘that.’”
“My vindictive son of a bitch of a father-in-law planted an idea in your head, and you seized on it.”
“Answer the question.”
“Should I call Bill Moore?”
“I don’t know, should you?”
“You and I don’t like each other. Never did and never will. Put that aside for a minute. Do you honestly think that I had something to do with the shooting?”
“What were you doing last night in Judge Spencer’s chambers? An officer came to me this morning and reported seeing you storm out.”
Crawford said nothing.
“She left a few minutes after you, and the officer described her as looking ‘shaken to the core.’”
Neal didn’t mention having pictures of them together, which was a relief. “Anything else?” he asked mildly.
“You made a big deal about a bruised knee. Who else but you says the gunman was kicked in the knee?”
“More still?”
“Lots more. You remain the only person who claims Rodriguez wasn’t the shooter.”
“If I was behind it, wouldn’t I want everyone to believe that he was the shooter, seeing as how he’s dead and can’t deny it?”
“You would, unless…”
Crawford cocked his head as though to better hear the part that Neal had left dangling. “Unless?”
“Unless a connection could be drawn between you and Rodriguez.”
“No such connection exists.”
One corner of Neal’s mouth twitched into a half smile. “I fibbed to you about that phone call because it was Chuck Otterman who called me. He said if you were around, I should pretend to be talking to someone else. He said no doubt I had noticed his surprised reaction to seeing Rodriguez’s corpse. I admitted I had noticed. He was calling to explain why he reacted the way he had.”
“The tension mounts.”
Neal didn’t acknowledge that. “Although Otterman didn’t know Rodriguez by name, he recognized him on sight.”