Triptych (Will Trent #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,142

while back. He’s a married guy, you know, really loves his wife but it’s not like he’s gonna say no to getting his knob polished, especially by something like that. Know what I mean?”

“What happened?”

“Polaski didn’t understand the rules. She was looking for something a little more permanent. Mike tried to let her down easy, but she’s had a real hard-on for him ever since.”

Will almost laughed at the thought of someone thinking Angie wanted to be in a serious relationship. He continued down the stairs, asking, “You think she’s making it up?”

“I think hell hath no fury, you know?”

“Yeah,” Will agreed. “But why would she make up something like that?”

Leo took a few seconds to think of an answer. He finally shrugged. “Women, you know?”

“Didn’t you tell me the other day that Gina filed a restraining order against Michael for beating her?”

“Well…” Leo stopped again. “Yeah. So?”

Will kept walking. “You didn’t seem to think she was making that up.”

“No,” Leo admitted. He rubbed his thumb along his chin, a tell Will had picked up on within minutes of meeting the detective. He hoped the man never played poker. “It’s like this,” Leo eventually said, “Mike called me last night and asked me how the case was going.”

“He called me, too.”

“What’d you tell him?”

Will opened the door to the second floor. “Probably the same as you. We don’t have anything to go on.”

“Yeah, but then I mentioned that you’d asked me to pull the sex offenders list. He got all hot and bothered about it. Said it was fucking brilliant.” Leo gave Will an apologetic half-smile. “I don’t think I’m squeezing your toes when I say that going through those files was a Hail Mary if there ever was one.”

Will nodded. Shelley had been included in his group of registered offenders, but the parole sheet lacked the details Caroline had pulled for him. If Angie hadn’t asked Will to look into the man, then Shelley would probably still be out in the street.

Of course, Michael Ormewood had been the one who told Angie about Shelley in the first place.

Leo’s stride was shorter than Will’s. He struggled to keep up as they walked down the hallway, saying, “Point is, Mike’s been on the job almost as long as me. He knows it’s a long shot, too.” Will slowed his pace. “And he also knows that some smack-head pross living in the projects ain’t gonna be keeping no tidy house.”

Will stopped, thinking maybe he’d underestimated Leo Donnelly.

The detective said, “I’d bet my left one that place was scrubbed down before we got there.”

“You mentioned this to Michael?”

“He argued with me,” Leo admitted. “Mike’s usually an easygoing guy, you know? But he got real pissed when I said the place had been cleaned. He wouldn’t even put it in his report.”

“Maybe he was just being careful?”

“Careful is when you leave out the fact that you found your name in the bitch’s little black book, not when you forget to notice somebody’s rubbed down the place with a gallon of Clorox.”

Will tucked his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing now?”

Leo shrugged. “I got a couple’a three other cases I’m working. Why?”

“You mind going over to Michael’s?”

“What for?”

“Pay him a call,” Will said. “Make sure he’s doing okay.”

“I gotta say,” Leo began, “the way he’s been acting, I’m thinking right now I don’t give a shit one way or the other if the guy is okay.”

“Just check on him,” Will insisted, putting his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “I want to know where he is.”

Leo stared up at him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Sure,” he finally said. “Okay.”

Will put his hand on the doorknob to the interrogation room but didn’t open it. He closed his eyes, trying to center himself. While he was in that room, he couldn’t think about Angie or Michael or Jasmine or anything else that would throw him off his game. John was the target and Will would not settle for anything less than a direct hit.

He knocked once on the door and walked into the room without waiting to be invited. John Shelley sat at the table. His lawyer was leaning across him, holding both his hands in hers.

They moved apart quickly when Will entered the room.

Will said, “I apologize for interrupting.”

The woman stood up. Her voice was strong, indignant. She might have specialized in real estate, but she was still a lawyer. “Is my client under arrest?”

“I’m Special Agent Will Trent,” he told her. “And you