Alone (Detective D.D. Warren, #1)(72)

“Of course. Officer should have no contact with the victim's family postincident. Think I haven't read the manual? I've read the manual.”

“So why did you come?”

“Because I shot this woman's husband, and what the manual doesn't tell you is that leaves you feeling all torn up inside, and yeah, desperate for answers, or maybe even just for someone to say, ‘Officer, you did the right thing. Officer, I forgive you. Officer, you can go on with your life now, it's gonna be okay.'”

D.D. expelled a breath. “Ah Jesus, Bobby—”

Bobby cut her off. He didn't want to hear it anymore. “I received a call from Mrs. Gagnon shortly after ten-thirty,” he said crisply. “Upon arriving in Back Bay, I parked my car and walked the rest of the way here. Halfway down the block, I saw the silhouette of a body hanging in the fourth-story window. You can say I moved a little quicker.

“Upon entering the lobby of the townhouse, I encountered Mrs. Gagnon and her son curled up on the floor in front of the elevator, obviously fearful. After instructing Mrs. Gagnon and her son to stay put, I took the stairs up to the front entrance of her residence. I entered armed with a fully loaded nine-millimeter, which I am licensed to carry. I conducted a full sweep of the residence, level by level, finishing in the master bedroom, where I walked through the open door to find the body of Prudence Walker swinging from the rafters.

“After reading the note resting upon the mattress, I exited the room, careful not to disturb anything and closing the door behind me with the cuff of my shirt. I then came downstairs and notified Mrs. Gagnon that it was time to call the police.”

D.D. mimicked his stilted professional tone back to him. “And how did Mrs. Gagnon react to the news?”

“She appeared startled that Prudence would hang herself.”

“What did she say?”

“That since Prudence was a lesbian, it was highly unlikely that she was Jimmy Gagnon's lover.”

“Really?” That caught D.D.'s attention. She made a note. “Do you have confirmation?”

“Well, we could ask Prudence,” Bobby said dryly, “but she's dead.”

D.D. rolled her eyes. “What else did you and Mrs. Gagnon discuss?”

“She was concerned about what the police would think of the note. In particular, she and her in-laws are engaged in a custody battle over her son and she feared the police might use the note as an excuse to remove Nathan from her custody.”

“Reasonable fear.”

“I told her the police were smart enough to realize that the suicide was staged.”

“You f*cking did not!”

“I f*cking did.”

“Jesus H. Christ, Bobby, why the hell didn't you hand her evidence to destroy as well?”

“If I hadn't told her that, she wouldn't be here right now, D.D. She'd have grabbed the kid and fled.”

“And you would've stopped her.”

“How? By pointing my gun at her and her four-year-old son? Somehow, I don't think she would've taken me seriously.”

“You had no right to give away details of a scene. You deliberately hampered the progress of this investigation—”

“I called you in. Without me, you had nothing.”

“With you, we have nothing.”

“No, you have a name.”

“What name?”

“James Gagnon.”

D.D. stopped, blinked her eyes several times, then peered at him in genuine confusion. “Judge Gagnon? You think he killed Prudence Walker?”

“Catherine thinks he did. Or hired someone to.”

“Why?”

“To implicate her in the death of her husband. Ask around, D.D. It's no secret that Judge Gagnon is real distraught over the death of his son. And it's no secret he blames Catherine.”

“For God's sake, Bobby, he's a superior court judge—”

“Who just yesterday invited me up to his hotel suite, where he offered to drop all criminal charges against me in return for my promise to testify that on the night of the shooting, I heard Catherine deliberately provoke Jimmy into pointing the gun.”

“You don't have audio.”

“I mentioned that. The judge said not to worry about it. He'd take care of it.”

“He'd take care of it?”

Bobby shrugged. “All he needs is one other guy who was at the scene to say he heard what I heard. The judge has long arms and deep pockets. I'm guessing I'm not the only one receiving his outreach.”

“Shit,” D.D. said heavily.

“I have a deadline—five o'clock tomorrow,” Bobby said quietly. “I can lie about Catherine and watch my legal troubles go away. Or I can tell the truth, in which case, the judge will seek to bury me.”

D.D. squeezed her eyes shut. “Politics and murder. Great, great, great.” She opened her eyes. “Okay, so what are you going to do?”

He was honestly offended. “You shouldn't have to ask.”

“I didn't mean it that way.”

“The hell you didn't.”

“Bobby—”

“We were friends once. I still remember it, D.D. Do you?”

She didn't answer right away. Which was answer enough. Bobby pushed away from the wall. “Investigate how you need to investigate, D.D. But if you want my two cents, Tony Rocco and Prudence Walker are both dead for the same reason.”