storm door outside the house. “We’re kinda lucky this happened on a holiday.”
“How so?”
“People we need to talk to are more likely to be home and press corps probably has the second string working on a day like this.”
“True.”
The door swung open to reveal a tall, bald, muscular dude with tattoos covering his huge arms, barrel chest and even his face. Sam shuddered. How anyone could do
that
to themselves she’d never understand. He wore only a pair of sweatpants that rode low on narrow hips. “Mr. Connolly?” she asked through the door as she and Freddie showed their badges.
“Yeah. What do you want?”
“We need a few minutes of your time. May we come in?”
“Not without a warrant.”
“You got something to hide in there?”
“Nope, but I got rights, and you ain’t comin’ in my house.”
A naked woman appeared in the front hall behind him. “What’s going on?”
“Nothin’, babe. Go back to bed. I’ll be right there.”
The woman walked away as nonchalantly as she’d appeared, as if it was a regular routine for her to walk around naked in front of strangers. Maybe it was.
“Let us in, Mr. Connolly, or we’ll take you downtown to chat. Your call.”
With a growl that Sam could hear through the glass, he pushed open the door and then walked away.
Sam and Freddie followed him into a dirty, messy space that smelled of stale cigarettes and beer.
In the kitchen, he lit up a cigarette and blew the smoke in their direction. “Not sure what you’re after,” he said, “but I didn’t do it. I been right here fucking my girl for the last twenty hours, and I got the used condoms to prove it.”
“As delightful as that sounds, we’re looking for information about an old friend of yours.”
“What old friend?”
“Lori Phillips.”
He let out a harsh laugh. “Ah, good old Lori who found religion and decided she was too good for the likes of me after I took care of her and her brat? That Lori? Why you sniffing around her? ‘Cuz she’s making trouble for your boy Gonzales?”
“That’s not why. We’re wondering when you last spoke to her.”
He thought about that. “Saw her at a party over the holidays. She wanted to talk, but I got something new going on, so I said hi and that’s it. Lori made her bed with me. She wanted to live clean and sober, and I wasn’t part of that.”
“You know anything about who her dealer might’ve been when she was using?” Sam asked.
“Right. I give you that info, and next thing I know you’re arresting me for using. What, do you think I’m stupid or somethin’?”
“We have no interest in arresting you, Mr. Connolly,” Sam said. “We’re looking for information about Lori. Only.”
“What’s she done?” he asked as he raised the cigarette.
“She’s been murdered.”
His hand froze halfway to his mouth. “
Murdered?
How? When?” He seemed genuinely surprised—and dismayed—to hear the news.
“We don’t have all the details yet, but we’re working on that.”
“I bet your buddy Gonzales knows what happened to her. She was making all sorts of shit for him.”
“We’re not looking at him for this.”
“’Course you aren’t,” he said with a bitter chuckle.
“What can you tell us about her friends, associates, dealers? Anything you can give us would be helpful.”
“She doesn’t associate with the people she knew when she was with me anymore. She’s gone clean.”
“We have reason to believe she was off the wagon when she died.”
“Really? Aw, shit. Kid worked really hard to straighten things out. She loved that little boy. Wanted to be better for him. I thought she was making a go of it.”
“Who were some of her friends, Mr. Connolly?”
“Sara Angelo was her best friend.”
“Do you know where we can find her?”
“She actually lives two blocks that way.” He rattled off the street name. “Don’t know the number though. Saw her at the 7-Eleven a couple weeks ago, otherwise I
“How so?”
“People we need to talk to are more likely to be home and press corps probably has the second string working on a day like this.”
“True.”
The door swung open to reveal a tall, bald, muscular dude with tattoos covering his huge arms, barrel chest and even his face. Sam shuddered. How anyone could do
that
to themselves she’d never understand. He wore only a pair of sweatpants that rode low on narrow hips. “Mr. Connolly?” she asked through the door as she and Freddie showed their badges.
“Yeah. What do you want?”
“We need a few minutes of your time. May we come in?”
“Not without a warrant.”
“You got something to hide in there?”
“Nope, but I got rights, and you ain’t comin’ in my house.”
A naked woman appeared in the front hall behind him. “What’s going on?”
“Nothin’, babe. Go back to bed. I’ll be right there.”
The woman walked away as nonchalantly as she’d appeared, as if it was a regular routine for her to walk around naked in front of strangers. Maybe it was.
“Let us in, Mr. Connolly, or we’ll take you downtown to chat. Your call.”
With a growl that Sam could hear through the glass, he pushed open the door and then walked away.
Sam and Freddie followed him into a dirty, messy space that smelled of stale cigarettes and beer.
In the kitchen, he lit up a cigarette and blew the smoke in their direction. “Not sure what you’re after,” he said, “but I didn’t do it. I been right here fucking my girl for the last twenty hours, and I got the used condoms to prove it.”
“As delightful as that sounds, we’re looking for information about an old friend of yours.”
“What old friend?”
“Lori Phillips.”
He let out a harsh laugh. “Ah, good old Lori who found religion and decided she was too good for the likes of me after I took care of her and her brat? That Lori? Why you sniffing around her? ‘Cuz she’s making trouble for your boy Gonzales?”
“That’s not why. We’re wondering when you last spoke to her.”
He thought about that. “Saw her at a party over the holidays. She wanted to talk, but I got something new going on, so I said hi and that’s it. Lori made her bed with me. She wanted to live clean and sober, and I wasn’t part of that.”
“You know anything about who her dealer might’ve been when she was using?” Sam asked.
“Right. I give you that info, and next thing I know you’re arresting me for using. What, do you think I’m stupid or somethin’?”
“We have no interest in arresting you, Mr. Connolly,” Sam said. “We’re looking for information about Lori. Only.”
“What’s she done?” he asked as he raised the cigarette.
“She’s been murdered.”
His hand froze halfway to his mouth. “
Murdered?
How? When?” He seemed genuinely surprised—and dismayed—to hear the news.
“We don’t have all the details yet, but we’re working on that.”
“I bet your buddy Gonzales knows what happened to her. She was making all sorts of shit for him.”
“We’re not looking at him for this.”
“’Course you aren’t,” he said with a bitter chuckle.
“What can you tell us about her friends, associates, dealers? Anything you can give us would be helpful.”
“She doesn’t associate with the people she knew when she was with me anymore. She’s gone clean.”
“We have reason to believe she was off the wagon when she died.”
“Really? Aw, shit. Kid worked really hard to straighten things out. She loved that little boy. Wanted to be better for him. I thought she was making a go of it.”
“Who were some of her friends, Mr. Connolly?”
“Sara Angelo was her best friend.”
“Do you know where we can find her?”
“She actually lives two blocks that way.” He rattled off the street name. “Don’t know the number though. Saw her at the 7-Eleven a couple weeks ago, otherwise I
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