School of Fish (Fish Out of Water #6) - Amy Lane Page 0,68

here!” Ellery complained, and unexpectedly, Jackson sobered.

“It’s bad, Ellery,” he said softly. “Take the laughs where we can get them. This one might break our hearts.”

Oh. “Let’s work to make that not happen,” Ellery said.

“Way ahead of you.”

CHRISTIE ARRIVED a few minutes later, and Ellery could see how Christie and Kryzynski could probably be the shining stars of the department. Tall, slender, elegant, and perfectly coifed, Christie was a Latin counterpart to Kryzynski’s fair-haired Polish ancestry. They both liked the nice suits, the perfect hair, and the consummate professionalism of the job. Only the bags under Christie’s eyes betrayed a rough couple of days.

Poor Kryzynski. His being a part of Jackson’s world must be driving his partner nuts.

They all shook hands, and then Ellery asked the obvious question.

“How’s Sean doing? We visited yesterday but haven’t checked in yet today.”

“He’s pretty doped up still,” Christie said. He nodded at Jackson. “Your friends, the nurses? They’re awesome. Keep him doped up at every opportunity. One of them put a picture of Justin Trudeau on his wall this morning and called it competence porn to keep his spirits up.” Christie swallowed. “My wife’s baking them muffins this afternoon. The boy got stabbed and dumped on the same day. Anything to make him smile.”

Jackson chuckled. “Competence porn—that’s good. I got Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie ten years ago. Told me I could take my pick.”

Christie gave a faint smile. “Good folks.” He looked over Ellery’s shoulder. “What should I expect in there?”

“She’s hostile, bigoted, racist, and expecting us to go at her both barrels. However you approach her, you should know that I’ve talked with the man who will be providing her and her husband with attorneys, and he’s very amenable to… slowing things down a little, to give us some leverage.”

Christie nodded. “What about her husband? How does he fit into this?”

Ellery explained the situation quickly, including their end goal.

“We need to get a line on where the kids are headed,” Christie assessed. “Which means we need to get some info on Dima Siderov and that little fuckhead who knifed Sean in the gut.”

“Sergio Ivanov, aka Ziggy,” Ellery confirmed. “Exactly. She’s going to try to bait you. I think her game is to try to make us do something that she can have her lawyer use against us. It’s her only hope. We have to be on our best behavior. She knows the ins and outs here, so all our best protocol.”

Christie nodded and then gave Jackson an apologetic glance. “I am not casting judgments here, Rivers, because you have been a stand-up friend to my partner, but you are not exactly known for doing things by the book.” He gave a little gesture with his hand by his own cheek to indicate Jackson’s bruise from his dustup the night before.

Jackson gave a satisfied smile. “Good times,” he said, voice dripping with nostalgia, and then he sobered. “I’m very aware that Ellery is the mouth of our operation, because he’s got the brains to go with it. I know when it’s time to stand back and be muscle and a pretty face.”

Christie nodded. “Fair enough. Let’s go have us a little conversation!”

The hostility in the room when they reentered was thick enough to cut with an axe. A knife wouldn’t have made much of a dent.

“Sorry to be so long,” Ellery said, bringing on his most congenial voice. “Was just having a little chat with Ambrose Pfeist.” Arizona’s eyebrows went up, and Siren looked from Ellery to Arizona as though trying to fathom what was happening.

Suzanne Mayer jerked as though she’d had an electric cattle prod shoved up her ass.

“You did?” Arizona said, her eyes widening as she improbably played the ingénue. “What did he have to say?”

“Not much.” Ellery shrugged. “Just that they’re having a hell of a time getting early court dates. People could end up in county jail for a while before arraignment. General population even. It’s shameful.”

“General population can be really dangerous,” Christie agreed, taking up the thread. “Particularly if, say, you or your husband were in law enforcement before you were arrested.”

Christie finished this with a direct look into Suzanne Mayer’s eyes.

She glared angrily. “Who the fuck are you?”

“This is Detective Andre Christie,” Ellery said smoothly and then decided on a slight exaggeration. “He’s just coming from the hospital. His partner was injured yesterday when someone tried to steal a case file from my office. You might recognize the name of the file—Tage Dobrevk. Does that ring a