Page 65 of Murder on the Boardwalk

Birk laughed out loud. “Why would he do that?” He glanced across the table to see Brogan’s face break into a wide smile. “Ah. Money. You’re gonna offer this jerk money. You’ve checked this guy out already?”

“I took Kelly’s lead and googled him just now,” Brogan verified. “Mr. Brownlee has a hefty mortgage and a gambling problem. He's always needing money. Seeing as how he’s sitting in jail not fifty feet from here with no way to make bail, I’d say now is the perfect time to bring him over to our side.”

Colt Del Rio shook his head. “We arrest ’em. And you guys come along and find a way to turn them loose.”

“Do you want to nail Gidget’s killer?” Lucien pressed. “Because Brownlee might be the only way to get Dennis Marshall, Richie Plunkett, and Tazzie backed into a corner long enough to tell the truth. If you see another way, I’m willing to listen.”

“I just don’t like the idea of letting him go, especially on the assault charge.”

Jade nodded. “Neither do I. But if it helps reveal any of these people as the killer, I’m all for finding that out.”

18

They decided that Lucien should approach Brownlee with a hard-to-refuse offer.

Colt De Rio walked him back to the same holding cell where he’d locked up Brogan her first night in Pelican Pointe. “You should remember this place.”

Lucien chuckled. “Oh, I do. I use that incident as leverage whenever she gives me a hard time about, well, anything. But surprisingly, she’s not too embarrassed about her stay here. She insists you should have let her wake me up that night.”

It was Colt’s turn to laugh. “Hyped up on booze and pills. That was Brogan. I couldn’t leave her behind the wheel without giving her time to sober up.”

Lucien raised both hands. “No one’s questioning that. I’m glad you did what you did. She’s stayed out of trouble, hasn’t she?”

“So far,” Colt answered before opening Brownlee’s cell door to allow Lucien inside.

Lucien got his first look at Sam Brownlee. With blue eyes and brown hair, he looked like a million other twenty-eight-year-old guys with a good job and a membership at a gym. His athletic build made him look like a regular jogger, which might explain the speedy way he ran off that first night. But right now, sitting in a cell, Sam sported a goofy haircut and an even goofier expression.

“Who’s this?” Brownlee asked. “He’s not my lawyer.”

“No, I’m not. My name is Lucien Sutter. I’m the guy who can offer you a sweet deal to get you out of here for good.”

Brownlee looked skeptical.

Lucien picked up on it and added, “You should be asking yourself, what’s the catch? Because there is one.”

“I didn’t do anything that bad,” Sam insisted, getting to his feet. “I’m a first-time offender who will probably get probation. Why should I make a deal with you?”

“Really? You brought a knife to my house the first time. Not quite sure what your goal was, but I can guess you weren’t there to wish us well. On your second visit, you assaulted a guest, a friend, with an iron bar and hit her across the head. Forget the graffiti and threat you left behind. You put her in the hospital with a concussion. Attacking someone on my property just because your employer tells you to do it pisses me off. I’d say you’re in no position to bargain.”

“What do you want?”

“I understand you need money and a lot of it.”

“I work for a wealthy man. I keep my job by doing what he says. My goal is not to get fired.”

“Haven’t you heard? Dennis Marshall has disavowed your existence. He’s stepping so far away from you that he might as well be in Idaho. How long have you worked for him?” Lucien already knew the answer, but he wanted to dive into Sam’s background to get a measure of the man.

“Two and a half years.”

“Then surely you must know Dennis Marshall is a thug. And Marshall Companies is a front for an outfit with ties to a Russian-backed cartel run by a man named Lewis Devlin based in Las Vegas.”

Surprise crossed Brownlee’s face. “Lewis Devlin, the president and CEO of Casino Renata? That Lewis Devlin?”

“You’ve heard of him?”

“Heard of him? Since last weekend I’m still into the house for twenty grand.”

“Even with your little escapade for Marshall?”

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