Page 45 of Cash

It was more or less the truth, and Brick relayed the same story to the detective when it was his turn to be questioned. It was obvious those men were here for Jules, but Brick didn’t know why. He didn’t even know why Jules was here in Raleigh, so it wasn’t like he was lying.

He did know, however, that Jules had used him as bait.

Jules had to have known those men would come after him again. That was why he’d changed his mind about having Brick stay over at his place. He was also pretty sure the new security system hadn’t gone off because Jules hadn’t set it, and he wondered if that had been intentional or not.

Brick wasn’t sure how he felt about any of this yet, still a bit hung up on the vision of the dead man on his floor.

The body had been removed, but he couldn’t get the image out of his mind.

The detective allowed him and Jules to sit on the couch together after the questioning was over. Jules put his arm around Brick’s shoulders and held him close, and Brick was grateful for the comfort.

He’d deal with Jules’s bullshit later. Right now, he wanted these cops out of his house before they found some reason to arrest him.

Brick knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, and technically Jules hadn’t either, but that didn’t stop the rabid paranoia gripping Brick’s mind from telling him that the police were going to somehow locate crack cocaine inside his home and throw cuffs on him.

“You did good, baby boy,” Jules whispered. “Almost done.”

Brick managed a weak nod.

The detective was back from taking a phone call outside, now standing just inside the front door. His name was Jermaine Cutter, and he was black, grumpy, and looked as if he hadn’t slept for a very long time. He was talking to two police officers as he sipped a cup of gas station coffee.

He didn’t seem to be interested in rushing at Brick with handcuffs or pepper spray, so Brick hoped that meant him and the other cops were going to leave soon.

The door opened again and in came a heavy man with a bad toupee. Brick recognized him as Fanny the medical examiner he’d seen the other day at the funeral home.

Fanny didn’t even look their way. He had a camera in his hand, said something quick to Cutter, and then headed over to the stairs to snap pictures.

Cutter waved the officers off, and they left. He turned toward Brick and Jules, walking over with a polite smile. “So, just talked to my captain, and no charges are going to be filed, all right?”

“Okay, good.” Brick sighed in relief.

Jules eyed Cutter warily. “But?”

“The guy who broke in here? We ran the ID he had on him, and well, I got a few more questions if you don’t mind.”

“Who is he?” Brick blurted out. “I mean, who was he?”

“Does the name JD Hanley mean anything to you?”

“No?” Brick glanced at Jules, who shook his head.

“What about Steve Latimer? Or Andrew Ashton?”

“No.” Brick frowned. “I have no idea who any of those people are.”

“The man’s legal name was Terence O’Neill, but he had many aliases. He had a criminal record, small-time stuff. Worked security—” Cutter made air quotes around the word security. “—for the Finch family as an independent contractor.” Cutter was looking at Jules now. “Don’t suppose you know anything about them?”

“Nope,” Jules replied curtly.

“He’s not from Raleigh,” Brick defended.

“Oh, I know,” Cutter said. “Mr. Price is from up north in big ol’ Strassen Springs. You’re quite the celebrity there.”

“Thanks.” Jules beamed.

“Mr. Price,” Cutter said dryly, “I didn’t mean that as a compliment.”

“I know.” Jules’s big smile didn’t budge.

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