“Nooo, not quite. First off, Sam would never take Porter’s money. He’s too close to being family. Ever since Molly’s body was found, this case has been priority one for all of us. It isn’t making us any money, but it’s never been put on a back burner, and it won’t be until we get the bastard. Sam did agree to do some checking around for him as a favor, though. Porter may have called other people who work in the area as well—you make a lot of connections when you spend thirty years as a cop. I don’t know what his other friends came up with, but Sam asked Baker—the guy who was his partner after Porter retired—to give Porter your information.” My expression must convey exactly how I feel about that, because he tacks on a sheepish, “Sorry.”
Part of me wants to let him off the hook, but I stomp that part down without the tiniest shred of mercy. I’m not going to pretend I don’t resent strangers poking around in my records even if their intentions may have been good. Now I’m wondering how much Aaron knows about my past. For that matter, what the hell is even in my record?
“Anyway,” he says, after a few seconds. “I’ve been out of the area for the past few weeks. I was up in Philly, doing some surveillance, when I got the flash about the van.”
I’m totally confused now. “But you said you only pick up on these things when you’re in the vicinity. So . . . how?”
“The guy who hired the van—Franco Lucas—is the one I was watching in Philadelphia. I don’t know how he knew about your connection to Porter. My first guess was that they had Porter’s place bugged, but I searched it really well yesterday. It’s clean. The only thing I can figure is that there’s someone on the inside at one of the places Porter called, someone who was watching for any mention of this case. Whoever it is must have known that you told Porter you were in contact with Molly. I didn’t pick up on exact facts—places, times, and so forth, but I knew Lucas was going to use the van to try and scare you away from Porter. And he clearly wanted you to think Porter was behind it. Otherwise, why leave the note?”
I nod. “But why did you have to be so cryptic? I mean, Deo and I were positive Porter was behind the entire thing, given that the call came in before the van nearly hit us.”
“Would you have believed me?”
“Actually, yes—I would have. Molly wouldn’t have given me any choice.”
He twists his mouth to the side. “I didn’t know for certain that you were channeling Molly. All I had to go on was what Porter and Sam told me. Believe it or not, there are actually jerks out there who will prey on people who are grieving.”
He gives me a pleading look. “You understand, right? And then yesterday morning, I’m outside the apartment where Lucas stays when he’s in DC, and it’s like alarms going off in my head. Sam called Porter and asked him to stop by the office. I practically begged him not to go to this meeting. Told him I had a bad vibe about it. Sam even told him the same thing, and you’d think he’d listen to his former partner, especially when Sam’s intuition kept his ass out of trouble so many times. But he’s a stubborn old cuss.”
“Ha! Tell me about it. It took me nearly a month to get through to him. And, to be honest, even if I had believed your warning, I’m not sure I could have kept Molly away from Porter much longer. Not if he was willing to meet. I mean, I usually have control in these situations, but Molly is as obstinate as her grandfather. She was determined to give him the information he needed to stop anyone else from ending up like she did.”
“And did she?”
“She got him to believe me. That she’s in here.” I tap my head. “That was the important part. Molly seems to think I can take it from there. I give him the information she knew, and hopefully he finds her killer.”
We’re silent for a minute, and I tip back the last of my coffee. “So, this guy you were watching. Lucas. You think he’s responsible for shooting Porter today?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Why?”
“Mostly because I don’t believe in coincidence.” He looks away as he says it, though, and something about his expression bothers me. He’s hiding something. “Also, they’ll probably assume you told Porter everything you know, which is why you’re both on their radar now. The good thing is, someone will be watching out for him, at least for the next forty-eight hours or so, while he’s hospitalized.”
The word hours reminds me to check the clock. “Crap! It’s after five and I forgot to call Deo.” I get up and head toward the living room but turn back toward Aaron to ask, “So, if Lucas hired the van and was behind the shooting, where does this other guy, Craig, fit in?”
He’s about to say something, but when I reach the end of the question, his jaw literally drops. “Graham Craig? How do you know about him?”
“I don’t know if it’s Graham Craig, but someone named Craig killed Molly.”
He shakes his head, unbelieving. “And you’re sure about that?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah? I think Molly would have a pretty good idea who killed her. Who is he, anyway? And how is he connected to this Lucas guy?”
“I believe Graham Craig is a business associate of his. But I don’t have proof yet. And believe me, it’s going to have to be rock-solid proof before I talk to anyone outside the family about my suspicions. The guy’s father is Ron Craig.”
I shake my head. The name isn’t ringing any bells.
“Ronald T. Cregg? C-r-e-g-g? Multimillionaire? Senator from Pennsylvania? Running for president?”
Oh.
CHAPTER FIVE