Let the Devil Out (Maureen Coughlin #4)(89)

“Clayton Gage had an apartment in the city?” she said.

Holy shit, she thought. She was getting it done. Shadow was giving them one f*cking lead after another. Wilburn and Cordts had caught her excitement. They rose from their barstools again. Cordts tapped his wrist. She had their attention, but she was running out of time.

“I was there,” Shadow said. “It was nice. New. New paint. New shit. We had to go there late at night, when shit in the ’hood was quiet. Not the kind of place you can be bringing guns in and out of. Which was pretty much the point of me being there. Finding other places to stash the guns.” Shadow straightened up in his chair. He put his hand on his chest. “I gotta say, Officer. You scared me some there.”

“The apartment,” Maureen said. “Where is it?”

“Around the way,” Shadow said. “In them new places. The Harmony Oaks. In a building where no one was renting yet.”

“The houses that Solomon Heath built,” Maureen said. “Gage worked out of an apartment he rented from Caleb Heath.”

“If you say so,” Shadow said. “You got another cigarette?”

“They’re around here somewhere,” Maureen said, her mind spinning. “I guess I should put the table back.”

She righted the table, set the ashtray back on it. The mason jar holding the candle had smashed on the floor, spilling wax onto the wood. She walked to the bar and laid another five over the ten she had tucked under the ashtray. She hoped LaValle hadn’t heard too much of the commotion. Shadow brought his chair back to the table and sat. Maureen tossed him the pack of cigarettes and her lighter. Shadow lit up, set the pack and the lighter back on the table.

He said, “So what now?”

“Any chance you remember an apartment number?” Maureen asked.

“It was months ago, and I didn’t go but that one time.” He sat up straighter. “But it’s easy to find. First floor, in one of the brick buildings right off Louisiana, one of the old ones they saved from the projects.” He laughed. “They got like a pool and shit there now. In the old Magnolia. Looks nice. I only seen it through the fence.”

Maureen adjusted her ponytail. It was helpful information, sure, about the apartment, but her earlier excitement was waning. Clayton Gage had been dead six weeks. The apartment had probably been cleaned out and rented by now. But Caleb Heath had bolted after Gage was killed. Maybe he hadn’t had time to clean up. He didn’t seem the type to do much of that to begin with. And Maureen doubted Caleb had told Solomon what he was doing with the apartments he was supposed to be supervising on his father’s behalf. It was worth a look. They might get lucky.

Shadow stood up. “If there’s nothin’ else you need from me.”

“I think that’ll do,” Maureen said. She tapped her own chest. “Sorry about that. Bruise’ll heal in a couple of days.”

“Ain’t no thing. Shadow’s had worse. Believe that.”

He straightened his down vest. Stretching his neck, he touched his cowrie-shell necklace with his fingertips. He seemed to be lingering, Maureen thought, in order to savor the fact that the cops were letting him go. “I have to admit, Shadow thought for a hot minute he wouldn’t walk out of here.”

“Thanks for your help,” Maureen said. “I’m sure you’ve got business to attend to.”

“Shadow always has the business to do.” He turned, sauntered to the door. He tipped an imaginary cap to Wilburn and Cordts. “Irie, gentlemen.”

Wilburn stared him down, but Cordts was smirking. “We’ll see you soon, Shadow. Real soon. We’ll tell Big Mike you stopped by.”

That last crack almost broke Shadow’s cool. Almost. He threw a glance over his shoulder as he slipped out the door.

“Big Mike’ll f*cking kill him,” Maureen said, “if he hears Shadow talked to us. About anything.”

“Fuck that mope,” Wilburn said. “We’ll be better off, and it’ll be an easy solve for Homicide. Everybody wins.”

“Just giving him something to think about,” Cordts said.

“You’re the one about kicked his heart out his back,” Wilburn said, stepping forward. “Now he’s your pal.”

“I was working him,” Maureen said. “Aggressively, but it was work. These are extreme circumstances. He’s not my pal.”

Wilburn stormed outside, slamming the door behind him. Maureen could hear him shouting curses then calling for his partner.

“I take it we’re done here, too?” Cordts said.

“I gotta make a call,” Maureen said, “start moving on Shadow’s information. And I’ll let LaValle know he can finally go home. But, yeah, we’re done. Thank you, the both of you, for having my back. And for showing some flex.”

“Watching you work,” Cordts said, “was interesting. Keep us posted on how it goes from here.” He tilted his head at the door. “Don’t worry about Wilburn. He could give a f*ck how you treated Shadow. I think he’s just pissed you let the mope walk. Long day today, for all of us.”

“I’m gonna make sure someone pays for it,” Maureen said.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Cordts said, “we’re all chasing that same result. Including the two guys who helped you conduct your secret interview with a wanted man.” He duplicated Shadow’s hat-tipping gesture and walked out the door.