The sour cherry surprise

Cavanaugh and Amalfitano exchanged an uneasy glance before the Aardvark said, “That’s absolutely understood, lieutenant. Obviously, we’ve got a vested interest in keeping our own investigation under wraps. But we in no way wish to impede yours. We’re just here to offer you whatever assistance and support we can.”

“Glad to hear it,” Soave said, turning his gaze on Grisky. “You can start by telling me what your men saw and heard from your setup in the woods.”

“That would be me.” Grisky dipped a spiral fry in a puddle of ketchup and chomped on it with his mouth open, splotches of blood-red ketchup flecking his lips. And Des couldn’t imagine why she wasn’t hungry. “I was up tonight. I was set up maybe a hundred feet behind the Beckwith house, angled slightly toward Turkey Neck so I’d have a direct sight line with the Procter place. That means the Sullivan cottage stood right smack dab between me and the crime scene. I was blocked out is what I’m saying. Didn’t see a thing.”

“Did you hear anything?” Yolie asked him.

“Maybe I did,” he replied, taking a starved bite out of his burger. “Maybe I didn’t. What I heard was a shriek of some kind. I thought maybe coming from the direction of the river. But I really wasn’t sure. It’s a warm night. People’s windows were open. I thought maybe the Beckwith girls were watching a scary movie on TV. Or Amber and Keith Sullivan were getting it on yet again. They never quit, those two. And they are not quiet. Or maybe it was a couple of alley cats out there in the brush fighting over territory. I didn’t know. I hear all kinds of noises in those woods at night.”

“And so you did what exactly?” Soave asked him.

Grisky stuck out his jaw and said, “Stayed put. No way I’m about to compromise my setup because of anything like that. Trust me, it wasn’t that much out of the ordinary.”

“I hear you,” Soave said, nodding. “Subsequent to this, what did you call it, a shriek…?”

“Shriek, scream, whatever,” Grisky said with a shrug.

“Did you see or hear anyone leaving the scene-either through the woods or up Sour Cherry Lane? Did you observe a car going by? Any kind of activity whatsoever?”

“Not a damned thing, lieutenant. Not until she rolled in.” Meaning Des. “At which point I checked in with Agent Cavanaugh by cell phone.”

“After I spoke with Agent Grisky,” Cavanaugh interjected, “Captain Amalfitano and I interfaced jointly with Captain Polito of the Major Crime Squad.”

Polito was Rico’s commanding officer, not to mention his brother-in-law.

“And we’re all in agreement,” the Aardvark declared. “Our best move right now is to stand back and give you folks a chance to do what you do.”

Brandon didn’t say a word. Just sat there and listened as he polished off his burger. The man was the tidiest burger eater Des had ever seen. Even his very last teensy-weensy bite was a perfectly arranged stack of patty, bun, lettuce, tomato and onion.

She cleared her throat now and said, “If I might…?”

“Jump right in, Des,” Soave urged her.

“What went on prior to this shriek, agent? The reason I’m asking is that the victim told Patricia Beckwith he felt like taking an after-dinner stroll. It’s not unreasonable to assume he strolled in the direction of home. Possibly hoping to visit Molly or, worst case scenario, have more words with Carolyn and Clay. Did you see him come knocking on his own door?”

“Nope,” Grisky answered flatly.

“Did you see anyone leaving the Procter house at any time?”

“I didn’t see a soul walk up or down that lane. I never do. There are no streetlights.”

“But you saw Richard and Clay going at it in the driveway the other night, didn’t you?”

“Because the porch light was on,” he confirmed, nodding. “Tonight, it wasn’t. It was pitch black over there. The entire Fighting Illini marching band could have gone by and I wouldn’t have seen them.”

Des mulled this over before she said, “Sounds reasonable.”

“Whoa, huge thank you,” Grisky jeered at her. “I so totally live for your approval, master sergeant.”

Des studied him curiously. “Something you feel like getting off of your chest?”

“Hell, yes, there is. It’s because of you that this went down. You’re the one who arranged for the victim to move in with the old lady when he got released.”

“We don’t really need to go here, do we?” Cavanaugh said to him.

“Why not?” Grisky shot back. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“It absolutely is,” Des acknowledged. “Because the poor man had nowhere else to go. And because when I made those arrangements I had no idea the Procter home was a stash house. That’s on you, gentlemen. You’re the ones who chose to keep me in the dark about your operation. So don’t lay your stink on my doorstep, agent. I was just doing my job.”

“And these jurisdictional battles are not helpful,” Brandon asserted, speaking up for the first time. This was how he operated. He watched. He listened. Then he stepped in and took charge. “We are all fighting the same battle.”