Chapter 34
Kyle pulled open the door with nervous eyes darting between the two of us. "What are you doing here?"
"Just thought we’d have a little chat," I said.
"How did you find me? Did Paris give you my name?"
"No. Paris doesn't give up sources. I told you I would find you. Appearing on camera yesterday wasn't the smartest move.”
He frowned. "Somebody's gotta stand up for what's right.”
"Is burning down boats right?" I asked.
His brow wrinkled with confusion. "What are you talking about?"
I gave him a look. "Don't play dumb with me.”
"I’m not playing dumb.”
"You mean to tell me you were out there yesterday protesting, but you had nothing to do with the vandalism?"
“That's exactly what I'm saying to you.”
"Who was involved?”
Kyle shrugged and swallowed. "I don't know.”
"Bullshit. I bet you knew half those people on the dock yesterday. You’re dialed into the community.”
"Look, this is the first I'm hearing of it."
I didn’t buy it for a second.
"Protesting is one thing. Violence is another,” Kyle said. “That's not my style.”
"I want names."
"I can't give you names. If I knew who did it, I’d tell you."
My skeptical eyes narrowed at him.
"I swear!”
I stared him down for a long moment. "If I find out you're involved, I swear to God…”
"I wasn't!”
I gave him another card for good measure. "If you hear anything, call me.”
He took the card and stuffed it into his pocket. He already had one. I doubted he'd use either of them.
"What are you going to do about Aqus?”
"We’ve been all through that facility. There is no indication of a clandestine lab. If they’re doing illegal experiments, they’re using another location. If you have any more info, I’m all ears.”
Kyle frowned and said nothing.
We left and walked back down the hallway toward the elevator. Jack muttered, "Think he was involved?"
"If he wasn't, he damn sure knows who was."
We took the elevator down to the lobby and hustled back to the Porsche. We climbed in, and Jack fired up the engine and pulled out of the lot. “How did it go with Ariel last night?"
"We went to the ER, then I went to bed."
Jack lifted a curious brow.
"And not in the way you're thinking."
"She's cute.”
"She was medicated and suffering a traumatic brain injury."
He frowned. "Well, I had a damn good time.”
"You told me."
He proceeded to tell me again, just to rub it in.
We headed across the island to find Shane Phillips.
He lived a few blocks from Mason in the Azure Skies apartments.
It was a roach trap complex on Lagoon Street.
The mint green siding was stained and peeling.
It was a series of four unit buildings—two up, two down.
The grass was patchy, and the sidewalks overgrown.
No covered parking, no security gate. A few anemic palms guarded the property.
Jack found a place to park. We hustled through the complex, found Shane’s building, and jogged up the creaky wooden steps to unit D201.
The pool at the center of the complex hadn’t been maintained. Green with algae, it was a breeding ground for mosquitoes and possibly home to a prehistoric creature or two. A primordial sludge.
After the late-night assault, I figured Shane might still be sleeping. Then again, he could have been coked up and on a three-day bender. You never knew with these types.
I put a heavy fist against the door and shouted, "Coconut County! Open up!"
I didn't have probable cause. I couldn't kick down the door. But I was 100% certain Shane was Mason’s accomplice on the failed ambush.
I nodded to Jack, and he hustled down the steps and moved around to the back of the building to watch the balcony. It would be an easy escape for Shane if need be. But the smart play was to shut up and not answer the door. Shane didn't exactly strike me as the intellectual type.
I banged another heavy fist.
Footsteps padded down the foyer a few moments later. The peephole flickered as he peered through. "What do you want?”
"I just have a few questions for you."
"I don't talk to cops. Please leave."
Shane was a little smarter than he looked. From his mug shot, he was 6”, well built with a slick head, narrow blue eyes, and a rugged jaw with a dimpled chin. He had the nose of a boxer, and I had no doubt he’d seen his fair share of bar fights.
"I'm sure you're probably aware by now, but your friend, Mason, is dead."
"Yeah, heard about that.”
"You were pretty close with Mason, right?"
"Yeah. So?"
"You guys grew up together.”
"What's that got to do with anything?”
"I bet you're pretty upset about his demise."
"I'm not happy about it.”
"I bet you'd like to kill the person who did it.”
Shane said nothing.
He could have been on the other side of the door with a shotgun for all I knew. This probably wasn't the smartest tactic in the world.
"Mason tried to kill a cop last night,” I said. “But I'm sure you already knew that, didn't you?"