Page 40 of Sinful Memory

“We’re from the homicide division,” Fletch supplies, not in the least bit offended by Whittaker’s dismissal, as he comes closer and lowers into one of the two visitor chairs. “Which implies we have a homicide to solve.”

“Well,” Whittaker lifts his hands in a kind of shrug. “All the people who matter to me are alive.”

He flashes an adoring smile when Jenna sets a coffee cup on the desk in front of her boss. Then she places another in front of Fletch.

“So who is dead?” Whittaker asks. “Maybe if I knew, this conversation would have context.”

“Anna Switzer.” I remain standing, as is my preference. And coffee-less when Jenna doesn’t bring me one. “Popstar, A-list celebrity, found in her bed yesterday morning.”

“Anna Switzer…” He plumps his fat lips. “I know of her,” he ponders. “Might’ve even met her in passing once.” Then he stops and grins. “I didn’tknowher, though.”

“No. But we’re led to believe she might’ve had a sexual relationship with one of your Condors.”

I note the way his eyes narrow. He saw no apparent threat in us wanting to speak tohim. But mention his team, and he gets serious fast.

Protective like a father? Or like an investor?

“We’d like your permission to speak with each man on the team, Mr. Whittaker,” Fletch states.

“We’re in the off-season right now.” He sits back so his chair groans, and regards us with none of the friendliness from earlier. “My boys are scattered.”

“Your boys are inside this stadium right now,” Fletch inserts quickly. “You have nineteen on the roster right now, and you’re working to figure out which you’ll cut for October.”

“I have twenty on the roster,” Whittaker counters with a feral smile. “I have to cut five. But they’re busy, Detectives, and none of them are murderers.”

“We’d like a chance to come to that conclusion on our own,” Fletch argues. “We just want to speak with each one. Alone. Five minutes each, and you all go back to work.”

“And if I say no?” He grinds his teeth. “If I simply decline to participate?”

“The city is keen to put this one away,” I shrug. “The mayor has a personal interest in the outcome of this case. Judge Ruth is on standby for whatever our needs are. And we have a right to hold any man we choose for twenty-four hours, purely because we suspect they may be involved in a crime. So you can give us five minutes with each of them, in here,” I gesture around his office. “In comfort. Low-pressure environment. No cages.Oryou can lose them for an entire day while we question them at the station—and probably a second day, as they catch up on the sleep they won’t get tonight. We’re not here to make enemies, Mr. Whittaker, but we have a job to do. So…” I set my hands on my hips and wait. “Your call.”

“Jenna.” He flicks his wrist toward the door. “Bring them up.”

“Start with the oldest,” I tell her. “Work our way back. Don’t tell them the cops are here. Just tell Frederick that he’s needed upstairs for a second.”

“You want Frederick?” Whittaker’s sharp question brings me back around as Jenna leaves. “Him specifically? You seem educated on my players, Detective Malone.”

“I want to speak to them all,” I correct. “One by one. I’m not here to screw with your team. I’m a casual fan. But I need to ferret out which one was sleeping with my victim.”

“So you don’t know who it is?”

“Not yet.” I wander closer to the desk, leaving space between me and the empty visitor chair that each player will soon take turns occupying. “You can stay for these meetings,” I offer. “Or you can go.”

His lips curl into a sly smile. “I’ll stay and keep an eye on things. I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing.”

“I wasn’t,” I grunt. Then I cast a fast glance, unnoticeable by most, toward Cato.

Still a kid. Still his dad.

My feelings toward the bastard don’t take away the fact Cato’s just a teen, and now he’s an orphan. But right now, this isn’t about him.

“What exactly were your dealings with my father, Mr. Whittaker?”

He waves me off. “Call me Richard, for the love of god. ‘Mr. Whittaker’ makes me feel a hundred years old. And I had no dealings with your father. I speak with your brother. Felix is…”

Obnoxious?

Sociopathic?

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