The Mermaid Murders (The Art of Murder 1) - Page 37

“God almighty,” Kennedy muttered. “You’re just full of surprises.”

Jason opened his mouth to answer, but the next minute Gervase had entered the room followed by Boxner who fired a furious look at Jason, as though this was somehow Jason’s doing.

Gervase slammed the door shut and took his chair behind the desk.

“All right, let’s hear it,” he said to Jason.

Jason looked at Boxner. “Be my guest.”

This seemed to set Boxner off all over again, and he poured out his tale of damning circumstances that weren’t really all that damning once you laid them out end to end. Or at least Jason hoped not. Kennedy’s face was back to its normal granite state, and Gervase was getting redder by the minute.

“That’s it?” he demanded when Boxner had finally come to a sullen stop. “He was a suspect for few hours during the Corrigan investigation? That’s what this is about?”

“He was the prime suspect.”

“The hell I—!” Jason broke off, startled, as Kennedy placed a hand on his arm.

“Boyd, for chrissake. He was cleared. He was completely cleared.” Gervase scrubbed his face in his hands. He looked up at Jason. “I guess I do remember you now. A scrawny kid with long hair and a mouth full of metal. Why didn’t you say right away who you were?”

“I did—I wasn’t hiding anything. I had no idea I was ever considered a suspect.”

“They dragged you in for questioning,” Boxner said.

“They didn’t drag me. And if they did, they dragged you too. They dragged all of us, everyone who knew Honey.”

Boxner recoiled as though this had slipped his mind. Maybe he had grown so used to thinking of himself as a police officer, he had forgotten there ever was a time when he stood on the outside.

“Are we done here?” Kennedy sounded bored.

“Done?” Gervase and Boxner echoed.

“Well?”

Gervase threw Boxner a not-exactly-apologetic glance. “Well, Boyd, it does seem like—”

“We’re not even going to question him?”

“Question me about what?” Jason demanded.

Boxner started to explain what, but Kennedy broke in.

“West is a special agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Which means he’s passed the most rigorous physical and psychological testing in the country with flying colors. The Bureau takes only the best. We don’t make mistakes.”

“You’re talking about yourself too, you know,” Boxner said.

Kennedy grinned. “That’s right. I am.”

Boxner gaped at the sweeping arrogance of that. Even Jason was a little impressed.

Gervase said in his steady, even way, “Nobody can be above suspicion. Of course no one’s suggesting Agent West—”

“Of course not,” Kennedy said. “Because that would be fucking ridiculous. So let’s call it a night. We’ve all had a hell of a long day, and enough time has been wasted on this nonsense.”

Gervase’s jaw tightened. “Anything you wish, Special Agent Kennedy.” The words were tinged with sarcasm.

Kennedy nodded to Jason, and Jason opened the door and walked out. His heart was still pounding with frustrated fury—a tidal wave of adrenaline crashing against the rocks of common sense. You could not punch people for saying outrageous, stupid things. No matter how much you wanted to—and they deserved it.

The door slammed behind them, and he could hear Boxner’s raised voice through the wood.

Tags: Josh Lanyon The Art of Murder Mystery
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