Randy smoking what looked like an e-cigarette in the park by my building. “I read somewhere that people put pot in these cigarettes.”
“Yeah,” Nick said, black gloves on his hands as he went through the bottom shelves. “They use a hash oil in the vape pen.”
I shook my head at the kids. What had they gotten involved in? I flipped through the pictures, stopping short at one at the bottom. Randy and Cheryl sat in some sort of booth with an obvious party going on around them. Somebody to Randy’s left wore a Lorde’s leather cut. In fact, there were several in the background. I squinted, my breath catching as I looked closer.
“What?” Nick straightened and looked over my shoulder.
I tapped my finger at two figures behind Cheryl. “Recognize anybody?”
Nick dropped his chin, nearly hitting my arm. “Yeah.”
I swallowed. It was Aiden Devlin, Melvin Whitaker, and Scot Peterson, obviously talking next to the bar, their faces leaning toward each other as if whispering, all three with intense expressions. My stomach dropped hard. The connection between all three of them was right there.
Nick straightened. “It’s time to interview Aiden Devlin.” He looked toward Pierce, who was watching from the kitchen. “Bring him in, would you?”
Pierce smiled; his expression grim. “Gladly.”
Aiden Devlin overwhelmed the interrogation room. Dressed in his leather cut, black T-shirt, and faded jeans, he looked like the dangerous man I suspected him to be. He also looked bored.
I stood safely on my side of the one-way glass next to Nick. It had only taken Detective Pierce an hour to track down Aiden and bring him in, and apparently Aiden had come willingly with no fuss. Even so, the cops were letting him cool his heels for a while in the room.
Nick cleared his throat, staring straight ahead. “I should apologize for last night.”
I didn’t take my gaze off Aiden. “No need. I’ll just use it to blackmail you at some point.”
Nick snorted. “Hey. To the best of my recollection, you tried to kiss me, Deputy Prosecutor Albertini.”
I grinned. “Your word against mine, and I win every time.” Turning, I fluttered my eyelashes even while noting the fresh bandage above his eye.
His gaze ran over my face, those amber eyes warm. “Yeah. I see that.”
Heat moved into my cheeks, so I turned back to the glass.
As if he knew, Aiden looked up, his gaze meeting mine directly. My breath caught. There was no way he could see me, but I swear, he looked right at me. Heat, the super lava hot kind, exploded in my abdomen.
The door opened, and Detective Pierce strode inside the interrogation room with a lumbering, square-shaped guy the size of a small tree wearing a DEA jacket. I straightened.
“This is interesting,” Nick murmured.
Pierce slapped a case file down on the table and drew out a chair while his buddy did the same. “This is DEA Agent Frank Zimmerman, and he’s pretty interested in talking to you, Devlin.”
Aiden smirked and looked from Pierce to Zimmerman and back. “So the state and feds are working together for once. I feel like I’m bringing people together here.”
“Yeah. You’re a real unifier,” Zimmerman muttered, sounding like he smoked three packs a day.
“I am trying to get into heaven one day,” Aiden agreed, drumming the fingers of one hand on the table.
Pierce quickly read through Aiden’s rights. “Understand?”
“Yep,” Aiden said, not requesting a lawyer.
Why the heck wasn’t he asking for a lawyer? I chewed on my bottom lip.
“How did you know Scot Peterson?” Pierce asked.
Aiden kept drumming. “Scot Peterson was the prosecuting attorney of the county, and he filed charges against me for drug possession and intent to distribute.” Aiden’s chin lowered. “Drugs and guns were found in an apartment complex owned by the Lordes but not in my personal space there. However, truth and facts didn’t seem to matter to your prosecuting attorney. Rumor has it that he is now deceased.”
I shivered.
Pierce’s head lifted. “You knew Scot outside of your criminal case.”
Aiden’s eyebrows lifted. “I did?”
“Yes.” Pierce flipped open the cover of the file and slid several pictures across the wooden table. “You and Scot at the marina. Here at the park. And here…at what looks like a Lorde’s party.”
If Aiden was surprised by the pictures, he didn’t show it. Not a bit. His brows drew down. “Yeah. I think he was following me. Stalking me, maybe.” One by one, Aiden slid the photos back with his index finger. “It’s too bad you don’t have recordings. Then you’d know what