I forwarded the video frame by frame, looking closely at all the men, watching them bet and raise, drink, smoke cigars, eat wings, and later drink snifters of what I guessed was cognac.
But no one shot anyone, no one gave someone a Colombian necktie, there was no coke passed around, and no one yelled or even accused anybody of cheating.
“This is extremely anticlimactic,” I told Jeremiah.
“Agreed.”
Thirty minutes later, changed into sweats and waiting for the food to arrive, I was working on some spreadsheets and Jeremiah was on his laptop working on a paper when there was a knock on the door. I checked the peephole, saw it was Detective Aguilar, and let him in.
“Tell me again what you found.” Detective Aguilar directed the order to Jeremiah as soon as the door closed behind him. “Because you weren’t making a lot of sense on the phone.”
“Cameron found a tile in my jacket.”
I rolled my eyes at him.
“What?”
Turning, I waved the detective over to the laptop and started the video from the beginning. “I found a flash drive hidden inside a mahjong tile in Jeremiah’s jacket pocket. Shawn must’ve been wearing the jacket the night he went where he wasn’t supposed to be. Though I can’t imagine why he’d think to swipe what looked like a normal mahjong tile.”
“Fuck me.” Aguilar gasped and dropped down into the chair beside me.
“What’s the big deal about a poker game?” Jeremiah asked him.
“The big deal is that man right there,” Aguilar answered, pointing to the one I knew was going to enjoy his wings a few minutes later. “That is Cristobal Tremaine, who, according to the DEA, died last year, the victim of a car bomb.”
“Well, if you look at the TV, the weather’s on, so you can see the date and everything.”
“Which I’m guessing was Daniel Nieman’s intent when he shot this in the poker room at his house in Westlake.”
“There was a housefire in Westlake, wasn’t there? The one that killed an entire family?”
“Yeah, kid”—Aguilar glanced at Jeremiah—“that would be the one.”
I stopped the video, removed the drive and stuck it back in its cap, and then passed it to Aguilar. “You’ll release a statement to the media as soon as possible so Tremaine’s men don’t keep looking for the drive in the homes of anyone even remotely associated with Shawn Pelham, won’t you?”
“Don’t worry, this’ll be over by the time you wake up tomorrow morning.”
“And Shawn gets the credit for bringing it to light,” Jeremiah insisted. “He’s the hero who took the drive so it didn’t burn up in the fire.”
“You realize that to get this he had to be sleeping with Dan Nieman, who was a very rich, very shady lawyer? And married with kids.”
Jeremiah shrugged.
“This is why he’s been less than forthcoming this whole time.” Aguilar was irritated; it was there in his voice. “He didn’t want that part coming out.”
“Yeah, but now, because of Shawn, you guys can charge Tremaine when you find him, so really, he’s a hero, right?”
“I wouldn’t say hero. He’s a klepto who just happened to grab something important.”
“Will he be released from protective custody now?”
“Hell no. He’ll have to testify to where and when he swiped the drive. I see WITSEC in his future, and I for one can’t wait to hand him off to the marshals.”
“Give him a break, Detective. He’s a good guy; he just needs a redo.”
“Fine,” he agreed, sighing deeply. “But you and Mr. Gallagher are gonna be heroes too. This is a huge story.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “Please, just leave us out of it. I mean, all we did was check a coat pocket.”
“So he borrowed your jacket?” He asked, leaning back, looking up up at Jeremiah.
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t check the pockets when you got it back?” He seemed confused as he regarded my boyfriend, like that made no sense. I was glad not to be the only one.
“No.”
“Who doesn’t check their pockets?”
I threw up my hands in agreement, feeling vindicated.
Aguilar glanced up at me. “What the hell?”
“Oh, I agree,” I stressed, shooting Jeremiah a pointed look.
“You know,” Jeremiah began, purposely ignoring me, “you’re just lucky I had no hangers. That jacket was in my dresser in the bathroom.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Aguilar chimed in.
Jeremiah groaned.
“What the hell was your dresser doing in the bathroom?” Aguilar wanted to know, brows furrowed. “The fuck is that about?”
“Speaking of which,” I took that moment to inquire, “you know that’s weird, don’t you?”
Jeremiah shook his head. “Listen, if you think about it