Page 71 of Family Affair
“Sure, sure. Have you?”
“Have I what?”
“Have you maintained contact with Ward Williamson since your brother Franklin died?”
At the mention of Frank's name, Cade's inner alarm system went off and his spine tingled. He knew they’d ask, would make a connection with the old case, and still he wasn't fully prepared to field the Frank questions. He never would be.
It took him a great effort to appear relaxed in his slouch when everything inside him got tenser than the King of Tense Detective Willis.
“No. But then again, I hadn’t had much contact with him while my brother Franklin lived.”
Willis leaned forward. “Are you sure?”
Cade didn’t reply to the dig.
Smirnoff raised his hand offsetting a round of heated exchange between him and Detective Bust. “Please tell me about the last time you saw Ward Williamson.”
Cade seriously considered lying. What were the chances of them already knowing?
“Last week,” he finally said.
"You just said you haven’t seen him in years," Detective Willis barked from where he sat impersonating an angry statue.
Cade leaned against the back of his chair with as much insolence as he could muster. "Last week was the first time in years."
“What prompted your visit last week, after so many years?” Smirnoff quickly moved on with the questioning, denying Willis another chance to say something inflammatory.
“Confession. I’d gone to church the previous Sunday. Felt humbled. Decided to go unload my soul’s sins on him. Isn’t it what the preachers are for?”
“You could’ve confessed at the church. Why go to his house?” Willis asked.
So they already knew he had gone to Ward’s house. “I like feeling special.”
Smirnoff shot Willis a puzzled look, clearly expecting better judgment from his partner, and switched gears. "You mentioned your father and Ward Williamson used to be friends. What happened to their friendship?"
This one was easy. He rattled out the standard response he used to provide to police when the murder of Stevie Stark, and later Frank’s death, were being investigated. "Father blamed Ward for condoning Frank’s criminal behavior. Supposedly, he had had a lot of influence over Frank but chose not to exercise it."
Evidently, Smirnoff expected his answer. He cocked his head. "Is that what you believe?"
“I believe Frank did as he damn well pleased. Ward held little sway over his actions.”
Smirnoff chewed on that for a few seconds. “Did you generally like Ward Williamson?”
“No.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he was an annoying old prick.”
“What brought you to Atlanta this time?” Smirnoff switched topics again.
“I came to visit my family for Independence Day.”
“Was it the only reason?”
No, it wasn’t the reason; it was the excuse.“Yes. I come now and then.”
This question-answer session bore little resemblance to a heart-to-heart conversation. A friendly talk, his ass. If the detectives wanted to, they could’ve come to interview him at his hotel room. Instead, he was sitting on the wrong side of the gray table in a room with no windows.
