Keep Her Safe(91)

“Yes. I do.”

“Really? Because I wouldn’t. Not completely.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “But you think I should trust you, right? Why? Because you flashed a badge and then showed up here with coffees, playing the nice guy?”

“Touché.” He holds out the tray of Starbucks.

I ignore the offering. “Why shouldn’t I trust Noah?”

Klein sets the tray down on the entry table beside the door. “For starters, he lied to the police in his statement. And then he lied to the FBI.”

“To protect his mother.”

“Who believed that her best friend was murdered and did nothing except leave me a drunken phone message shortly before shooting herself and sending her son across two states with a bag of circumspect money. Why would he protect a woman like that?”

“Because she’s his mother.” Though I’ve caught myself asking that same question. “Besides, none of that has anything to do with Noah.”

Kristian raps his fingertips across the door frame, the beat slow and precise. “Have you noticed how close he is to his uncle?”

“He’s lucky to have family.” Even if I’m not a fan of that family right now. “What’s your point?”

Kristian pauses as if reconsidering his next words. “If Dwayne Mantis set up and killed your father, or had him killed, he’d need help. The kind that usually comes from above.” He waits a few beats for me to process that. “Your father had a reputation for being a regular Boy Scout, so the evidence against him would have had to be overwhelming for people to buy it. I’m talking not a shred of doubt. That report? If it was missing key information to allude to another theory, I’m guessing it was because someone made sure it wasn’t included.”

“Yeah. Mantis.”

Kristian’s doubtful expression suggests otherwise.

“Who then? The guy who wrote the report?” I hesitate. “Jackie Marshall?”

“The chief at the time, George Canning . . . Did you know he and Silas Reid go way back? I’m talking way back. Did Noah tell you that?”

No. “Why do you assume Noah knows?”

I get a casual shrug in response.

Kristian’s right—I am a smart girl, and I can peg what kind of guy he is—the kind that plays on people’s vulnerabilities to get under their skin and, inevitably, get what he wants. He wants me doubting Noah. I just don’t know why.

I glance over my shoulder to see the hallway still clear. “Stop talking in riddles. What are you getting at?”

“Canning has a lot of influence in this city. More than most politicians. Dig deep enough into how the mayor got elected, how the city manager was chosen, and you’ll find Canning’s name come up. People like that set warning bells off inside my head, especially when everyone loves them. And the public loves Canning. They think he’s the best damn police chief this city has ever had. Hell, they’re about to give him a bronze statue. Do you know why that is?” Kristian arches an eyebrow. “He fought against gangs and drug crimes and got results.”

“And that’s bad how?”

“Because he did it by using guys like Mantis—guys who don’t have issues breaking rules along the way to get what they want. Guys whose moral compasses are skewed.”

“How do you know Mantis is like that?”

“A hunch.”

I sense it’s more than a hunch, but I also sense that I’m not going to get an honest answer. “And you think Canning knew what kind of person Mantis is?”

“Do you really think someone stays chief for that long by being oblivious?”

I ignore his condescending tone while I quickly fit pieces together in my head. “So you think the chief knew my dad was innocent.”

“Maybe. What I know is that Jackie Marshall thought your dad was innocent. And I also know that Canning’s approval of her is the reason she made chief. And I also know that if a story about Canning’s super-cop stealing money in a drug bust ever got out, Canning’s legacy to this city would be different. I doubt he’d be getting a bronze statue.”

“So the former chief of police had reason to want my father dead.”

“Or at least to look dishonest and untrustworthy.”

Holy shit. What if Klein is right? What if Mantis killed my father with the chief of police’s protection? “So are you going to ask him?”

“Who, Canning?” Kristian chuckles. “You don’t let a suspect know that they’re a suspect until you’ve already caught them. You don’t show your cards too soon.”

The opposite of what I did with Mantis. I couldn’t contain that spark of rage, couldn’t keep my big mouth shut. I showed my cards. Hell, I didn’t just show my cards. I held them up, face out, and let Mantis get a good, long look at them.

“Canning’s got connections from all angles to help protect him. One of them happens to be the district attorney of Travis County.”

My curiosity outweighs my apprehension. “So you think Noah’s uncle will protect Canning?”

“I think he already has.” He leans forward, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Noah may be a good guy, but unless you’re one thousand percent sure that he’s going to choose you over his mother and his uncle, I wouldn’t get too caught up in whatever’s going on between you two. I’d spend my time keeping an eye and ear out for anything important.”