One Night Standoff - By Delores Fossen Page 0,46
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Saul, clearly not impressed with Melvin’s offer, gave him a flat look from over the top of his reading glasses. “I understand from Clayton here that you’ve been named as a person of interest in an attempted-murder investigation. Not just one attempt, either, but rather several of them.”
“Me?” Melvin drew that out a few syllables. “Must be mistaken. I’m a respected businessman. I import piñatas, serapes, leather belts and the occasional piece of silver jewelry.” He showed them his turquoise-and-coral-studded watch.
“I’ll make sure SAPD checks those piñatas for drugs,” Clayton said.
That caused some of Melvin’s cockiness to dissolve. “Always was an ungrateful son.”
“Always was a dirtbag of a father,” Clayton fired back.
Melvin shrugged. “Probably because I never wanted to be one.” He looked at Saul when he talked. “His cheap tramp of a mother ran out on us when he was five. Did my best to raise him right, but you know being saddled with a kid just wasn’t my idea of a good life.”
“But selling piñatas is.” Saul didn’t wait for an answer to that smart-mouthed comeback. “So, tell me, Mr. Larson, what’s your association with Adam Riggs?”
“Former association,” Melvin instantly corrected. If he was surprised by the question, he certainly didn’t show it.
“Your association,” Saul corrected right back, and he handed Melvin the paper that Clayton had given Saul earlier. “It took a little digging, but according to this, the money you used to open your business was funded through an offshore account owned by none other than Adam Riggs.”
Now there was a reaction. Melvin shot Clayton a glare that could have chipped solid stone.
He glared back at Melvin. “So what’s your association with Riggs?” Clayton repeated.
“He’s a minor investor in my business, that’s all.” And he dismissed it with a wave of his hand.
Clayton and Saul both mumbled some profanity, because they weren’t dismissing anything. “One more lie and I’m going to throw your sorry, lying butt in a jail cell,” Saul warned him. “And to make things fun, I’ll give Clayton the flippin’ keys while I take a long dinner break.”
Melvin’s glare got worse. “All right.” No more lounging. He sat up in the chair and pulled back his shoulders. “Riggs loaned me the entire amount for my import business, and in addition to the money I give him to repay the loan, he gets thirty percent of the net profits.”
That meshed with what Clayton had learned. It was a pricey loan, because along with the thirty percent, Melvin was paying interest on the loan itself. Over half his profits were going to Riggs. Of course, a man with Melvin’s history likely wouldn’t have been able to get a conventional loan, so Riggs might have been his only option.
Clayton went closer, put his hands flat on the table and leaned in. A clear violation of Melvin’s personal space. “So what kind of deal did you make with Riggs—that in exchange for killing me, he’d cancel your debts?”
“No.” Melvin volleyed glances at both of them, and maybe for the first time he realized this was serious. “No,” he repeated.
“Come on, are you saying you don’t want me dead?” Clayton pressed, staring at the man.
Melvin didn’t break the stare. “Well, I didn’t think so much about it until I came in here and you started accusing me of things I’m not doing. So yeah, maybe now I’m thinking about it, but I didn’t do anything to make it happen.”
“Does that mean you’re not Riggs’s hired hit man?” Saul pressed.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t play hired gun for anybody. Riggs included. And I’m also thinking it’s time for a lawyer. Hell’s bells.” Melvin added some much-worse profanity. “I didn’t know I’d come in here and get accused of attempted murder.”
Melvin seemed genuine enough about that, but Clayton didn’t believe the man was innocent in all of this.
“I’m calling a lawyer,” Melvin insisted and took out his phone.
Saul gave Clayton a look that he needed no words to interpret. This interview was over until Melvin’s attorney arrived. However, before Melvin could make the call, Clayton heard voices in the hall, and he threw open the door to make sure something hadn’t happened to Lenora.
She was there in the doorway of the observation room, but she wasn’t alone. James was with her, and Harlan and Lt. Ryland were right behind the agent.
“What are you doing here?” Clayton asked James. He also stepped out so he could move in front of Lenora. He didn’t think James was stupid enough to