Page 133 of State of Denial

“You’re sure? Because withholding information in a homicide investigation is a crime.”

“I’m sure.”

“Thank you again for your time.”

“I hope you get justice for my friend and her children.”

“We’re doing everything we can.”

Freddie ended the call and went looking for the dump of Liliana’s phone, zeroing in on any lengthy late-night phone calls, figuring that’s when busy parents would have time to talk. He was able to eliminate the numbers belonging to Kelly, Cara and Liliana’s sister, Esme. That left one number unaccounted for, which he assumed belonged to Keenan.

He ran upstairs to IT. “I need a favor,” he said to Archie.

“What’s up?”

Freddie circled the number and handed Archie his notebook. “I need a name and address.”

With a few keystrokes on his computer, Archie produced the name Keenan Coleman. “He lives in Berkley on Meadow Road.” Archie returned the notebook with the address written next to the number.

“Thanks, man.”

“How’s it going?”

“Slow but making progress.”

“You don’t think it was the dad?”

“We’re all but sure it wasn’t.” He told Archie about Marcel being left-handed and gunpowder residue being found on his right hand.

“Wow, that’s a good catch.”

“Gotta give the LT credit for that.”

“Is she doing okay?”

“I think so. She’s back to work after the briefest leave of absence in history.”

Archie grinned. “I knew she wouldn’t stay gone for long.”

“Same. Thanks again for the help.”

“Any time.”

Freddie went back downstairs to find Gonzo. “I’ve got a lead on a guy Liliana Blanchet was having an emotional affair with.”

“What the hell is an emotional affair?”

“The kind with no sex.”

“What’s the point of that?”

“She was going through a rough time with the lawsuit about to blow up their lives. I guess the other guy provided support and comfort.”

“Interesting. Let’s go see what he has to say.”

Jake Malone had been awakeall night thinking about the dreaded task he needed to deal with first thing that morning. He ought to have someone else with him, but this was so intensely personal, he’d decided to do it himself. After he finished a second cup of coffee at home, he left the house in his MPD SUV and drove to the familiar address off Grove Street in Petworth.

He'd been there many times before for parties, poker nights and other gatherings of friends who became family when you worked together every day.

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