Page 16 of Angel's Share

And those they’d noted were absent.

“So,” Matt said, after Aidan finished the overview, “if it’s not financial distress driving Angel’s actions, what then? He did it for kicks? He’s acting out?”

“Can’t be dismissed,” Aidan admitted. “He is a teenager, but I don’t think that’s it. When you go back through his record, those suspensions, the truancies, the larceny even, there’s a reason for his actions. Despite what he wants us to believe, he’s not a kid who acts out.”

“Drugs, then?” Rick said. “Causing him to act out of the norm?”

Matt shook his head. “Test results came back negative for any controlled substances. Kid didn’t even have caffeine in his system.”

Pushing back from the table, Aidan stood and walked to the whiteboard he’d started scribbling notes on, three parties listed at the top.

Parsons. White. X.

Then two underneath them.

Angel. Y.

“Where’s the connection?” he said. “Or better yet, who?” Aidan tapped a knuckle against the Y, one of two unknown variables on the board, but, he sensed, the more important one to Angel. “Y is someone Angel knows, and that person knows one or more of them,” he said, pointing at the top line. “Any word on White?” he asked Rick.

“Still no sightings.”

“As for Parsons,” Matt said, “no known connections to White or Angel. He’s cooperated fully and is conducting an in-house investigation to find out who might’ve leaked the shipment contents. So is Danny on the Talley side.”

Aidan drew a single hash mark through Parsons’s name. Not a full exoneration yet, but he agreed, it seemed Parsons was a victim more likely than a suspect. “We need to find White.”

“He’s due to check in with his parole officer tomorrow morning,” Rick said. “He knows to alert us if he does.”

They were halted from speculating any further by a knock at the door. “Come in,” Matt called, once Aidan had moved to stand in front of the board.

The weekend receptionist who’d greeted him that morning stuck her head in the room. “Tricia Harris is here. Interrogation room two with Angel.”

“We’ll be right there,” Matt said, then to Rick, “Keep digging.”

Aidan circled the table, meeting Matt by the door. “Let’s go get him to talk.”

They’d barely closed the interrogation room door when Tricia made it clear how difficult that would be. “Do we have a deal?” she demanded.

“We’re working on it,” Matt replied.

“Well, until you have it, he’s not talking.”

He was looking as ragged as Aidan felt this morning—bloodshot eyes, pale skin, his curls gone flat. If Aidan had to guess, Angel had gotten even less sleep than him last night. Unsurprising, as his options had been a metal bench or the cement floor. He wore the clean clothes Izzy had brought for him, but given his otherwise drawn appearance, the slacks and button-up looked more ill-fitting than yesterday’s jeans and hoodie.

“The AUSA isn’t going to dismiss a felony without something in return,” Matt said, continuing to volley with Angel’s PD.

“But he’s willing, if there is something?”

“It’s Rooster, Trish. Of course he’ll make a deal.” The slip of a nickname, of Matt’s usual formality in the interrogation room, made Aidan do a double take, but before he had time to ask what that was about, Angel lobbed a new grenade into the mix.

“I don’t care about no deal.”

“Angel, we should—” Tricia started, only to be cut off by her client.

“No,” he said, voice sharp. Uncompromising. “I’m not talking. No deal.”

“Because you do care about someone,” Aidan said, and Angel’s gaze snapped to him.

“Agents,” Tricia said, standing. “Can we have a moment outside, please?”

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