The Night Shift(65)

“What’s that?”

“Teenage girls.”

Atticus smiles.

“What else do we know about Arpeggio? What’s he do outside the office? What’s he do for fun?”

“Fun?” Atticus says. “I can’t imagine him having fun.”

“We don’t have enough for a warrant into his phone or computer, but we have every agent’s best investigative tool.”

Atticus waits for her to reveal the secret.

Keller holds up her phone: “Google.”

Hal appears at the door of Atticus’s office. “The original Starsky and Hutch,” he says. “No wait, that’s sexist: Cagney and Lacey.”

“Not sexist,” Keller says, “just extraordinarily out of date.”

Hal shrugs. “I got a name,” he says.

They look at him, unclear what he’s talking about.

“For the little brother, Chris Whitaker,” Hal says. “He goes by Chris Ford. Get this: he works as a Union County public defender.”

Keller thinks about this. Given where Chris Whitaker came from, that’s impressive. Rusty Whitaker’s spawn seemed destined for the penitentiary.

“It gets even more interesting,” Hal continues. “I called over to the PD’s office. The head PD is an old friend. Turns out Chris Ford is in the hospital. He was attacked last night.”



* * *



By late afternoon, Keller’s at the hospital. Chris Ford is awake and seems slightly agitated.

“That was brave, what you did to save that girl,” Keller says.

“So I’ve heard.”

Chris is banged up. He has scrapes on his face, his hair’s a mess, and he looks out of it. For the first time she sees the resemblance, the angular features like his brother’s. There’s even some of his father in his eyes.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Keller says.

“I assume the FBI doesn’t send agents to extend thoughts and prayers, so what can I do for you, Special Agent Keller?”

“Please, call me Sarah,” she says. “I have some questions if you’re up for it?”

Chris nods for her to continue.

“I know it’s been a long time, but I want to talk about the last time you saw your mom.”

He looks away, stares at the muted television mounted on the wall, and nods again.

“Tell me about the last time you saw her.”

“Air Bud.”

“Pardon?”

“We watched the movie Air Bud. It’s about a dog who can play basketball.” Chris continues looking at the television.

“When was that?”

“I was ten, so 1997.”

“Is there a reason you remember it so clearly?”

“Yeah, because I went to school the next day and never saw her again,” he says, a little edge in his tone.

Fair enough. It was a stupid question.

“Actually,” Chris says, his voice softer, “I remember because I had a big math test the next day and was I worried about it. She told me that relaxing, doing something fun, before a test would help way more than cramming.”

“Good advice.”

“It got me through law school.”

“That’s the last time you saw her?”

He nods. “The next day, I rushed home to show her the A I got on the test, and she was gone.”

“Where did you think she went?”

“He told me she’d run off with someone. It wasn’t hard to believe if you’ve met my biological father.”

Keller nods. “I arrested him.”

Chris nods like he knows this already.

“How about your brother? When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Ah, the real reason for your visit.”

Keller makes no reply.

Chris starts to say something but seems to change his mind. “The last time I saw Vince was the day they released him for insufficient probable cause.”

“And what do you remember?”

“It was late. I’d already gone to bed. But I heard voices in the living room, so I got up, hoping it was him. He’d been arrested and I didn’t understand what was going on.”

“And what happened?”

“I remember coming out of my room, but he had some customers there. He sold pot. He was small-time, dime bags, mostly to high school kids. Anyway, he was stern with me, told me to go to bed.”

“Was he always like that with you?”

“No, almost never. You may not believe it, but he’s a gentle guy.”

Keller tries to keep her expression neutral, like she might believe him, might not.

“But that night,” Chris continues, “my dad was there, so the customers were probably friends of his. And one of the customers, an older guy, was acting weird, twitchy. I’m guessing Vince didn’t want me exposed to that crowd. So I went to bed.”

“That’s the last time you saw him?”

“When I got up in the morning he was gone.”

“Have you had any contact with your brother since then?”

“None.”

She gives him a skeptical look.

“Trust me, I’d love to talk to him.”