Friends Like These(69)

“He just appeared with her outside. The rest of us were already in the car,” Jonathan adds, talking fast, like he can’t get himself to stop. “We’d lost him inside. There was this huge crowd near the bar because of something on TV, a boxing thing. We didn’t even know they’d met.”

Of course, the fight wasn’t on Friday night. It was on Saturday night, at the exact time the entire group was supposedly at Jonathan’s house, eating penne arrabiata.

“Sorry, just to go back a quick second, you were home all night last night— Saturday night. Correct?”

“Yes,” Jonathan says decisively, as I study Stephanie’s suddenly very stiff face.

“Listen, Keith probably did go to buy drugs last night,” Maeve offers. “Convinced Derrick to do that instead of going to the Cumberland Farms. I mean, he always needs more. He’s in pretty deep with his addiction, I think.”

“We’re just . . . Keith is our friend,” Jonathan adds. “I know we should have told you about Crystal before, but there’s this whole complicated situation with my family and Keith and money. He’s got real problems. We didn’t want him getting into more trouble.”

“Withholding information can derail an investigation in ways you can’t possibly anticipate, because you don’t have all the relevant facts. For instance, Crystal Finnegan is also having a relationship with Luke Gaffney from Ace Construction,” I say, hoping an appeal to logic will encourage them to be more forthcoming. “Could be he was angry about Crystal and Keith, and he’s responsible for whatever happened in the car. These facts that you’re leaving out might seem like minor details, but they can point in unexpected places, important ones.”

“I really don’t think Luke Gaffney’s dating Crystal,” Stephanie says.

“Yeah, no,” Jonathan adds with an emphatic shake of his head.

I’m not sure why they’re so quick to dismiss this idea. “How do you know?”

“We don’t, obviously,” Maeve insists, shooting a look toward Jonathan and Stephanie. “He could be.”

“And to confirm— now that we’re on the subject of complete disclosure— you did or didn’t pay Ace Construction everything they were owed?”

Jonathan shifts in his chair, rubs a palm across his thigh. “We paid them a lot of money, but not everything they wanted,” he admits. “They kept raising the price.”

“And so when you told me it was all sorted out earlier . . .”

“It was sorted out to the best of our ability at that time,” Stephanie offers, splicing a lawyerly hair.

“You can only withdraw so much cash in one day. I gave them everything I could get my hands on,” Jonathan says. “I said that I would wire the rest.”

“And when did your fiancé, Peter, get here?” I toss that in like an afterthought. But it’s meant as a warning— I already know way more than you realize.

Jonathan meets my eyes. “I’m sorry I left that out. But I was— I am upset with him. It was Peter’s fault we didn’t pay the contractors. We got into an argument about it, and he left. But Peter doesn’t have anything to do with what happened to Keith and Derrick.”

“Okay, but we don’t know that, right?” Maeve offers tentatively.

Jonathan whips his head in her direction. “Yes, we do.”

“How could we, when we don’t know what happened?”

Jaw clenched, Jonathan shakes his head angrily. “I know, Maeve. I know. Believe me.”

“Okay, I think we should pause here for a second,” I say. This new tension between them could be useful. As a united front, they’re impenetrable. I have a feeling the only way I’m going to get the whole truth of what happened is by prying open the cracks between them. “Maybe the three of you need some breathing room.”

“We can leave?” Maeve asks.

“No, no, that won’t be possible quite yet.” But I do plan to send Cartright back in to separate them. Rock the boat a little. My phone buzzes then with a text from Dan. I stand, lifting my phone in the air. “If you’ll excuse me for one second. I need to handle this. I’ll be right back.”

I step out before they can object. In the hall, I read Dan’s message. There’s no Hoff statement anywhere. Double-checked Mike Gaffney’s alibi. Woman hates him, but still swears he was working on her kitchen at the time.

“Scutt!” a voice bellows. When I look up from my phone, Seldon is striding down my way, face livid. “You had a patrol car show up at Mike Gaffney’s fishing cabin? Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

Seldon doesn’t like me, but he’s not usually a yeller. And right now he looks like he’s about to pop an artery.

“We found an Ace Construction hat at the accident scene,” I say, trying not to sound rattled by his anger. “And there was a dispute between the victims and the Gaffneys over an unpaid bill. The officer was there and gone within minutes. All he did was confirm that Mike Gaffney was there, so we could rule him out.”

“Mike Gaffney doesn’t need to be ruled out!”

“Um, why?” I ask. The question is a mistake. Instantly, I know it.

“Because he’s an upstanding business owner!” he roars. “A pillar of this community, not a damn criminal!”