Back in Black (McGinnis Investigations #1) - Rhys Ford Page 0,78

be taken down to Central instead of eating the sandwiches I’ve made?”

“The living room is fine. I hate this as much as you do, Mac,” O’Byrne said, probably using my old nickname to soften any hard edges the conversation formed over our relationship. “It’s just that someone got to Ivan Brinkerhoff in the hospital earlier this evening, and I just need to make sure it wasn’t you. Because you’ve got to admit, finding out he died from a bullet hole straight through his forehead is going to lead a lot of people to you first, and if I don’t ask these questions, they’re going to come after you, and there’s nothing I would be able to do to protect you.”

GRILLED CHEESE sandwiches don’t taste as good unless they are hot enough for the cheese to burn the roof of your mouth. Mine were just going to have to wait until O’Byrne was done with me, and if I were a cruel man, I would make her eat two of the cold ones just to get back at her. But I’m not that kind of guy.

Still, I was mourning the death of my crispy dinner as she made herself comfortable on the couch across of me.

“Can you tell me where you were this afternoon?” O’Byrne began, scribbling something down. I imagined it would be the time and place of our interview, because that’s what I would’ve written down. Reconstructing a conversation into a report was only as good as the details laid down, and if there was one thing I knew about O’Byrne, she liked to keep her details straight. “Any approximate times would be helpful. As well as anyone you were with.”

“Well, I started off the afternoon with Bobby—Robert Dawson—interviewing Arthur Brinkerhoff’s neighbor, George Watson. We gained access to the building around two thirty in the afternoon, signing in at the security counter, then going upstairs using the elevator. We were with Watson for about an hour and a half. I got some information about paintings Brinkerhoff did—Arthur, not Ivan or any other Brinkerhoff—and discovered there was a courier who would pick up canvases Arthur finished every so often.” I’d told her this on the phone earlier but it was good to catch up. “I didn’t have a picture of Ivan, but I think it would be good to put one in front of Watson to see if that’s who was moving Arthur’s paintings.”

“What did you do after you finished up with Watson?” O’Byrne nodded, reaching for the bottle of water I’d left her on the apothecary chest we used as a coffee table.

“Well, since we weren’t able to gain access to Arthur’s apartment to look at any of the paintings he had in there, I took Bobby home. Since Dawson lives next to Little Tokyo and we were all the way on the east side of Downtown, it took me about forty-five minutes—maybe fifty—to get him over there.” I thought back to what we’d done along the way. “Actually maybe a little bit more. I stopped for gas off of Olympic because we were avoiding the freeways, so I’ve got a receipt for that. I had to go inside because we wanted something cold to drink, so I grabbed a couple of iced teas. After I dropped him off, I drove home up Wilshire. I didn’t get home until about six.”

“Was anybody here when you got home?”

“Ichi had just gotten here. His bike should be in the carport. Jae gave me a kiss, and they hung around for about an hour before leaving. I took a shower and watched a little bit of a ballgame, then went into the kitchen to make something to eat. That’s when you knocked on the door.” I did some mental calculations, and while my timeline was fairly tight, it left me open in certain spots. “I guess it all depends upon when they found Ivan, because I didn’t have anybody with me on the ride from Dawson’s place to home and didn’t stop anywhere along the way. I also have about an hour between Jae leaving and you arriving where the only alibi I’ve got is Honey, and she’s easily bribed with food.”

She was still writing long after I stopped talking. I began to regret leaving my unopened Harp in the drink fridge, and I really mourned my now totally soggy grilled cheese sandwiches. She finally looked up when I’d gotten to trying to figure out how I could hide the ones I’d