“The Shoemakers have a big, expensive house in La Jolla,” Kit said, coming to stand next to Sam. “They’re loaded with a capital ‘L.’ ”
“They’re old money,” Connor said. “At least the wife is. Shoemaker himself grew up in Chula Vista. I believed him, I think. And I’m really glad he managed not to puke.”
That bothered Sam. “Was he actually going to, though? He didn’t look like other people I’ve seen vomiting because of stress. They get a glassy, panicked look in their eyes, but Shoemaker didn’t. Maybe he onlythoughthe should be sickened by Hugh Smith having a finger chopped off.”
“You could be right,” Kit said. “I think the thing that bothers me is how all the people we’ve talked to assure us that their crimes either wouldn’t require jail time or, if they would, it would only be a few years. Or the statute of limitations has run out. We just have their word on that since only Munro, Grossman, and the killer—or killers—have seen the list.”
Sam nodded. “That bothers me, too. It’s like,Um yeah, I was blackmailed but it wasn’t for anything that bad. Trust me. But I still paid the money every month.I wonder what Peter Shoemaker’s wife would have to say about his affair. I wonder if she knows.”
Kit watched Shoemaker through the glass. “We’ll ask her when we search his house.”
Sam turned to her, surprised. “You weren’t bluffing about that?”
Kit gave him a wink. “I was, but Shoemaker just confirmed Daly’s murder-for-hire tale. We have enough to search his home and the homes of everyone on that list.”
“That was nicely done,” Navarro said. “I almost believed you myself. How many more people do you need to interview?”
Kit glanced at her phone screen. “We brought in eight, and Connor and I just interviewed two of them—Estelle White and Peter Shoemaker. Marshall and Ashton interviewed Juanita Young and they’re in with Henry Reese now. We each have two more. Bert Ramsey is next on our list.”
“Bert’s the president of an insurance company,” Connor said. “Notold, old money, but his family’s owned businesses in the city for decades. He was also one of Simon Daly’s friends. I guess we’ll see if their friendship will stand up to Daly’s narcing on him. You want me to be good cop, Kit?”
“Please. I still have hives from being so sweet with Daly.”
Sam chuckled. “You do not.” But he wanted to check every inch of her skin to make sure. Kit in cop mode was hotter than hell.
“Maybe not hives,” she allowed. “But it’s like a coat that’s two sizes too small. Come on, let’s move to the next interview room. Bert Ramsey awaits.”
Sam followed them, taking his place by the glass, next to Navarro, who’d been moving back and forth between the interviews Kit and Connor were conducting and those by Marshall and Ashton. Once they’d completed all the interviews, they’d gather to debrief.
“Bert Ramsey is the same size as Shoemaker,” Sam said,studying the man at the interview table. Who was the same size as Neckbeard.
Who was the same size as all the men in the group. They were all physically average in nearly every way.
Bert Ramsey was in his early fifties and appeared to be in good shape. His hair was cut severely, shaved on the sides and short on top, reminiscent of the Marine he’d once been.
Sam wondered where the man had served, in what capacity, and what he’d seen. He wondered if he’d come home hardened to life, or if he’d always been calm, cool, and collected in the face of what most people would consider a highly stressful situation.
Bert Ramsey was regarding the glass mirror as if he could see who watched him and was completely unimpressed.
“He’s very chill,” Sam said.
“Faking it,” Navarro said.
Sam wasn’t so sure. This was what he’d expected when they’d begun to interview the rich and somewhat powerful. This cool indifference. This lack of concern that the law could touch him.
Bert Ramsey radiated those vibes.
So had Brooks Munro. Sam could still see the man’s smirk as he’d propositioned Sam to declare Ronald Tasker unfit for trial.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Sam murmured as Kit and Connor took their seats.
“Hello, Mr.Ramsey,” Kit said. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
Sam leaned closer to Navarro. “I thought she was going to be the bad cop.”
A small smile played over Navarro’s lips. “Just wait.”
“This is my partner, Detective Robinson,” Kit said. “Do you know why we brought you in tonight?”