Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,76

was just an ordinary human.”

Carmen gave a little nod and her eyes grew less wary.

Brianna loved that about Aaron. He delivered bad news—no matter how awful or scary it was—in a straightforward way that made you feel more at ease simply because he respected you enough to give you that truth. And he treated everyone with that respect. Her, other cops, volunteers at the missions and even a homeless woman like Carmen. Brianna was pretty sure the only person he wouldn’t treat the same was the man killing innocent people.

“So, maybe Art was kilt somewhere else? That’s where his blood is?” Hondo asked, handing a piece of bread down to Stanley, who was sitting by Aaron’s feet.

“His body was definitely moved from where he was killed,” Aaron confirmed without saying anything more about the blood.

Brianna was learning another thing about the detective. He’d answer truthfully when asked a direct question, but when possible, he also protected vital information to his case. Apparently, he was willing to let the trio assume that Art’s missing blood was simply on the floor of another place, not harvested by their killer.

“We were wondering if Art ever mentioned to you about talking to a journalist?” Brianna asked, trying to help steer the conversation away from the blood factor.

“Journalist?” Yancy asked, brows drawn down in confusion.

Hondo gave him a friendly little backhand tap to the shoulder. “You know, one of them news people. The kind that puts stuff in the papers and magazines.”

“We don’t read no newspapers,” Carmen said. “We just look at pictures in the magazines at the library or when I finds one in the trash.”

Hondo just shook his head at his two companions. “I don’t remember Art sayin’ anything ’bout no journalist. But there has been some guy walkin’ round takin’ pictures of people. Sometimes he stops and talks with them. Never talked to me none.”

“Do you know what he looked like?” Aaron asked with a quick glance at Brianna.

At his signal, she pulled out her little note pad and pencil from her bag to write down the description.

“Never seen the guy up close,” Hondo said. “I seen him outside the clinic where I gets my meds. He looks to be average size. Maybe a little shorter than me.”

Hondo looked to be just under six feet to Brianna. She wrote both those facts down.

“How about his build?” Aaron asked. “Heavy, thin?”

“Kinda average, I guess. Hard to tell with everyone wearing winter coats. You know?” Hondo said. “He was white, or maybe light skinned Mexican. Definitely no brother.”

Brianna jotted that down, then paused. “Did he take a picture of you?”

“Not me, but some of the others, like Art and Steroid Kyle.”

“Steroid Kyle?”

“Yeah,” Yancy said, standing up and flexing his muscles like a body builder. “Dude looked like he was on steroids. Like a lineman for the Browns.”

“Was he a former player?” Brianna asked, with another quick glance at Aaron, who appeared to be thinking the same thing as her. Their killer wanted special people. People whose former lives would make a statement. Art the war vet. Mia the concert violinist. A former football player might be just what he was looking for.

“Played a few years professional like, but weren’t the Browns,” Hondo said, as if that was the only team that mattered. “Said he was drafted high up out of college.”

“Did he mention which one?” Aaron asked.

Hondo shook his head. “Not sure, but it weren’t a big one like the Buckeyes. I’d a remembered that.” He pointed to his faded Ohio State baseball cap. Apparently, like most people in the state, he was a big fan.

“Do you know where we can find Steroid Kyle?”

“He usually hangs out near the gas station over on Cedar and Fifty-Fifth,” Hondo said. “There’s an old empty building behind it some of the guys use.”

“You’ve been a great help,” Aaron said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his business cards and a three twenty-dollar bills, handing one to each of the trio. “Let me buy y’all some dinner. And if you see the photographer journalist again, would you give me a call?”

“Sure thing,” they all said, quickly pocketing the money.

Aaron scooped up Stanley and they headed back to where they’d parked the old sedan.

“We’re going to the gas station, aren’t we?” Brianna asked as she buckled herself into the passenger seat, then took Stanley into her lap.

“Next logical step.” Aaron put the car in gear and pulled out. “If we’re lucky, Steroid Kyle will be there and can