got the crap beat out of him. Way I hear it, he’s already had two operations and still has a couple more coming. Guy can’t even walk right now.”
Risa rose, suddenly impatient for the call to end.
Nate obviously felt the same. “I appreciate the information. It helps.”
“Hey, we’re all looking to help you any way possible. Let me know if you need something else.”
Nate hung up, his face thoughtful. “Crowley lied.”
“Obviously.” She grabbed her jacket, although the weatherman had promised a return to seasonable temperatures. But given his record, she saw no reason to trust him. What other occupation got to retain their jobs when they were right only half the time? “The question is, why did he lie? Was he just trying to give you a face to go with the name?” She immediately corrected herself. “But that’s stupid. He had to know we’d find out.”
“But if Jersey hadn’t been alibied for the time in question, it would have been Crowley’s word against the dealer. We’d have gotten nothing anyway.”
“And the real Juicy would never be questioned; hence, he’d never know that Crowley had given him up,” Risa concluded. She cocked a brow. “So are you driving or am I?”
That put a hurry in his step. “I am. It’s a department-issued car.”
“I’ve driven them before.” She waited until he’d locked the door behind them before striding toward the front door.
“Not with me you haven’t.”
She smiled to herself as she wended her way through the desks and cubicles. “Something tells me you don’t trust me, detective.”
He grunted. “Don’t take it personally. I don’t trust anyone.”
From the quick Google search Risa ran on her phone on the way to see Crowley, Lesser’s Plumbing Supply Business was a mom and pop company that had been in operation for fifty years. And given the seamed faces of the gray-haired couple that met them at the scarred service counter, mom and pop were still actively running the store.
“Yes, Samuel Crowley works here.” The man’s bushy eyebrows drew together. “Why, what’s he done?” In an aside he said to the woman, “I told you it was a mistake to hire him, Martha. But oh, no, you said, give him a chance. I knew in my gut that . . .”
“Mr. Crowley hasn’t done anything, sir,” Risa put in smoothly. The red embroidered name on his crisp blue shirt read BOB. “He’s actually helping us in an ongoing investigation.”
Her explanation didn’t seem to pacify the man’s suspicions appreciably. “Person gets mixed up with the police, it’s usually because they were where they shouldn’t be in the first place.”
“Oh, stop it, Bob.” Martha’s voice was surprisingly strong for someone who looked so frail. They might not be eighty yet, but they were both knocking at its door. “You were part of an investigation a couple years back when our store got broken into. Does that make you a crook?”
“It makes me a victim.” The man glared at his wife from behind thick black-framed glasses. “That’s a completely different thing. Unless . . .” His attention switched back to the two of them. “Was Sam the victim of a crime?”
“We’re not at liberty to discuss it,” Risa said gravely. “But if Mr. Crowley chooses to share the details with you, that’s up to him.” Which left the man clear to feed his employers whatever story he wanted to concoct for them, while skirting the need for Nate and her to tell the couple anything.
The bell over the door rang then, heralding a customer. The man opened his mouth again but Martha shushed him. “You tend to business.” Her faded blue eyes shifted to Risa and Nate. “Come with me. I’ll take you to Sam.”
They followed her down a cramped hallway lined with bulging cardboard boxes to a door with a smoked pane of glass in it. Opening it, she announced, “Sam, you’ve got visitors.” Despite her admonition to her husband, a bit of Bob’s suspicion gleamed in her eyes as she aimed a hard stare at the man. “We’ll talk later.”
But Risa didn’t think the promise Martha left them with was the reason for Crowley’s sickly pale expression.
“What are you trying to do?” he hissed as the door closed behind Martha. “Make me lose the only shitty job I can find?” His words were no less heated for being whispered. “What’d you tell them? They watch me like a pair of old buzzards anyway.”
“I figure that’s on you,” Nate said unsympathetically. “Couple takes a chance on hiring an