“Sorry for all my questions,” he said good-naturedly. “I’m just trying to figure out if Simmons came into play in the case or not.”
“I never found any evidence to suggest he had any ties to Skip Martin.”
“When you called, you said you believed there might be a connection,” he said, “Even if Simmons had nothing to do with Mr. Burton’s murder, he still could have investments with Hugo Burton.”
“Whether Simmons invested or not is a moot point for me now that my investigation was closed.”
He paused a second before adding, “I’ve been looking into Burton’s missing person case file.”
Of course he was. I was a fucking idiot.
“Seeing how I never saw the actual sheriff’s file,” I said, “I have no idea what’s in it. The case was still considered open, so Detective Jones, one of the original detectives, only shared things he thought might be useful to my investigation.”
“You had his cooperation?”
“I did. I told him if I could find Mr. Burton it was a win for both of us.”
“I see.” He paused. “And what about James Malcolm?”
He’d sounded congenial up to this point, but Malcolm’s name sounded a little bitter on his tongue. Definitely bad feelings there. Did Deveraux still blame Malcolm for involving his girlfriend in taking down Simmons? “What about him?”
“When you called, you said J.R. Simmons might be involved and then you mentioned James Malcolm. Did you think Malcolm was tied to Burton’s disappearance-turned-murder?”
I needed to handle this with kid gloves. “No. I was merely turning over rocks, trying to see what crawled out.”
“So why mention him at all?”
“When I heard Simmons’s name mentioned, I put his name into Google, and Malcolm turned up in the search. Malcolm was involved with Simmons’s arrest for the kidnapping of a Fenton County woman, and it seemed a coincidence that he was living here now. But again, I found no evidence that either man had anything to do with Burton’s disappearance.”
“You mentioned the Fenton County woman by name when you called, Detective,” Deveraux said, his voice like honey, but I heard the edge. “Why not say it now?”
I didn’t know much about Mason Deveraux, but I suspected he was a man I didn’t want as an enemy. “Obviously, I jumped the gun in calling you. Afterward, I learned she was your ex-girlfriend. I didn’t want to bring up any bad blood.”
“No bad blood on my end,” he said smoothly. “And from what I know about you, you’re not one to jump the gun.”
I really, really hated that he found me so predictable. I’d really fucked up by calling him. How much had I had to drink before dialing his number? But at the time, I’d jumped in deep with Malcolm, who was keeping more secrets than a priest in a confessional, and I’d needed to know if I could trust him.
“From what I’ve learned about you,” he continued, “you wouldn’t have called me if something hadn’t convinced you Simmons’s involvement was a strong possibility.”
I released a short laugh. “Shows what you know. I never hesitated to call my ADA contact at the Pulaski County prosecutor’s office if I was working a case and wanted information.”
“But you wouldn’t have called the Attorney General’s office.”
“Mr. Deveraux,” I said, not trying to hide my impatience. “You were the ADA on Simmons’s murder charges. You had more information than anyone. I’m terribly sorry I bothered you, and in hindsight, I obviously should have waited until I had something more concrete.”
“And you found absolutely no evidence tying Simmons to Lone County?”
I sure as hell wasn’t about to tell him my own father had worked for Simmons.
It wasn’t lost on me, that I would have told him everything six months ago. Sure, I would have felt guilty turning on my father, but I would have done it because it would have been the “right thing to do.” I’d also trusted the people above me to have my back. Look how that had turned out. Deveraux would be looking out for his best interest, just like I’d started looking out for mine. And I didn’t see any scenario in which it served me to tell him anything about Simmons’s involvement in Lone County.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Deveraux, but my call was nothing more than a fishing expedition, hoping to get information that would point me down another avenue to investigate.”
“And you’re not looking into James Malcolm?”
“Why would I be looking into him?” I asked innocently. “I only mentioned him because of Simmons.”
“So why mention Rose Gardner?”