Marjorie’s Pizza was a quaint little restaurant on the corner of 4th and Jones Streets outside of DC. The place smelled like garlic and cheese, and the tablecloths were red-checked with cheerful yellow napkins.
“Are you sure about this?” Kurt asked, sitting across from her.
“Yeah, I thought it would be better if we interviewed him somewhere he was more comfortable,” Mia said.
Kurt cut a look toward Todd and Erik, where they sat in the far corner, already munching happily on an extra-large, fully loaded pizza. “I’m really starting to hate those guys.”
Mia chuckled. “They both want to be deputies, and they’re trying to learn.” She kept a straight face as she lied.
“Uh-huh,” Kurt deadpanned. He was no dummy. “With a private plane, there’s no reason for us to stay the night in DC. Is it possible good ol’ Seth Volk is afraid to leave you alone with me for a night?”
Erik cut a look their way. The wolf shifter probably had hearing good enough to listen in on their entire conversation.
Mia sipped her water. “I can honestly tell you that Seth isn’t afraid of anything, Kurt.”
Erik nodded from across the restaurant.
Kurt unzipped his blue windbreaker. “Maybe not, but there’s something really weird about that town, Mia. You have to know that something is seriously off in Lost Lake.”
“All old towns are eccentric,” she said smoothly, straightening as Rodney emerged from the kitchen with a basket of breadsticks. He placed it on the table and then took the chair between them.
Rodney was in his late twenties with sandy blond hair, liquid blue eyes, and a fit physique. Mia knew from her investigation—brief that it was—that he was a runner who also liked to box at a local gym. Today, he wore jeans, a black T-shirt, and an apron around his waist. “So, you two are back to me, huh?” he asked, sitting and reaching for one of the three water glasses on the table.
“Desperation, I guess. Thanks for meeting with us,” Mia said.
He shrugged. “Whatever. If I refused, you’d just pull me in again. I told you before, I had no idea Delaney was a murderer.”
“We know.” Mia nodded. “I reviewed all your interview transcripts on the way here.” The plane ride had been smooth and quite comfortable, although she would never admit that to Seth. She’d also scoured every victim’s autopsy report, except for the last one since they didn’t have it yet. Not one bit of trace evidence had been left on any of the bodies. There was absolutely nothing, and it was incredibly frustrating.
“Tell me again what you did for Delaney,” Kurt asked smoothly, reaching for a breadstick.
Rodney rolled his eyes. “As you know, Robert Delaney was a lawyer with Delaney & Jacobs, LLP. I interned for him when I was in law school, which, by the way, I did not finish because all of this happened.”
Kurt looked around. “Yeah, but it looks like you did okay for yourself. Owning a restaurant has to be much more relaxing than being a lawyer in DC.”
Rodney nodded. “True. Good point.” He took another sip of his water, his hand steady. “So, I learned law and trial procedure from Delaney. That’s it. He left the office every day at six, and I didn’t see him again till six the next morning. Apparently, he was out murdering people during those nighttime hours. I, on the other hand, was sleeping.”
“Delaney had an alibi for two of the murders,” Mia said softly, not touching her glass or the breadsticks. Her stomach felt a little queasy, which was probably normal for any pregnancy, especially one involving a wolf shifter pup.
Rodney looked at her, his gaze hard. “I’m well aware of that because you hit me with it a million times during the two interviews I allowed before. I wasn’t an accomplice. I think you probably got the alibis wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Kurt asked, reaching for a second breadstick.
“Delaney was a smart man. He’s one of the most strategic men I’ve ever met. The guy was brilliant, actually—if completely psychotic.” Rodney reached for a breadstick. “If anybody was smart enough to fake alibis, it was him.”
Mia shook her head. “We have him at the opera for one of the killings and grocery shopping late at night for another—something he said he often did. I have him on video for both.”
“Ah, but videos can be faked,” Rodney said smoothly. “I’m telling ya, the guy was a loner. The only reason he took on an intern was because the court required attorneys to do so at the time. He didn’t like me. He didn’t like anybody. He just wanted to do his own thing. He won his cases, made tons of money from his clients, and then he went out and killed people.” Rodney threw up his hands. “That’s all I can tell you.”
Mia could tell he was about to take off. “Have you been to Kentucky lately?”
“Kentucky? No. Why would I go to Kentucky?” Rodney snarled.
“How about Nebraska?” Kurt asked.
Rodney shifted uneasily. “Why?”
Mia perked up. “Just answer the question.”
Rodney rolled his eyes. “I have an aunt who lives in Nebraska, and yes, I visited her a few weeks ago because she was having a hard time.”
“Why was that?” Kurt asked.
Rodney shoved his water glass away from himself. “She’d been dating some guy who dumped her. She was really depressed, and I went out to cheer her up. That’s it.”
“Did you drive, or did you fly?” Mia asked quietly.
“I drove. I took my time and had fun,” Rodney elaborated.
Kurt leaned closer to him. “So, you didn’t drive through Kentucky?”
“Good God. I don’t remember,” Rodney said, the lines between his eyes deepening. “I just drove to Nebraska, hung out with my aunt, made sure she wasn’t suicidal, and then came back.”
Kurt reached for a third breadstick. “What about Wyoming?”
“What about Wyoming?” Rodney retorted.
Mia leaned toward him to bracket Kurt. “Have you been to Wyoming?”
“No, I have not been to Wyoming. Has anybody been to Wyoming?” Rodney asked.
Kurt tsked. “You know we have means of finding out where you’ve been.”
“Go right ahead, buddy,” Rodney said. “You look where I’ve been. I haven’t been anywhere except for Nebraska. Other than that, I’m trying to make this restaurant work.”
“Oh, yeah? We heard you’re rarely around,” Kurt replied.
Rodney swiveled to look at him. “You’ve been checking up on me?”
“We’ve definitely been checking up on you, Rodney,” Kurt said, lowering his chin.
“That’s it. I’m done.” Rodney pushed back from the table. “If you want to talk to me, feel free to contact my attorney.”
Mia also leaned back. “Who would that be, may I ask?”
“I’ll let you know when I get one.” Rodney turned and stomped away.
Kurt shrugged. “The breadsticks are good.”
Mia shook her head. “I find it fascinating that he’s been to Nebraska. We need to get a dump on his phone and his vehicle’s GPS if it has one.”
Kurt nodded. “We can also pull some traffic cam footage. I’m sure we have a couple of interns in the DC office who could spend hours upon hours trying to trace him between here, Kentucky, Nebraska, and Wyoming. Why not give it a shot?”
“Let’s also see if he’s been to Seattle lately,” Mia said.
The waitress bopped over and placed a ticket on the table. “For the breadsticks.”
Mia barely held back a chuckle.
“What an ass,” Kurt muttered, reaching for the bill.
The waitress shrugged. “Sorry. Rodney said you have to pay.” She was young and cute with dark hair, even darker skin, and an apron with perfectly hand-painted flowers. She wore jeans and a pink T-shirt.
Mia checked the T-shirt. There was a C and the @ sign and then an L. It took her a moment. “Seattle,” she murmured.
“Oh, yeah,” the waitress said, looking down. “Rodney brought this back for me after his last trip.”
Kurt paused in standing. “His last trip? When was that?”
The girl shrugged. “I don’t know when he went, but he gave me the T-shirt last week. He hasn’t been around much lately.”
“Is that a fact?” Mia asked quietly, standing. “Do you know where he’s been?”
“Nope. He doesn’t check in with me.” The waitress turned as someone waved to her from a table near the door. “I have to go. You can pay at the door.”
Kurt watched her leave. “Seattle, huh?” he murmured. “Let’s pull video from the airport, as well. We need to get a warrant for his phone and the GPS on his vehicle.”
Anticipation ran down Mia’s back. “Absolutely. Let’s do it.”
She turned to see Rodney watching them from the door by the kitchen, and for just a moment, his lazy façade flipped. Anger burned hot and bright in his eyes, and for a second, he looked like somebody else. Then his shoulders lowered, and he walked toward them, yanking the bill out of Kurt’s hand. “You don’t have to pay. You’re just doing your job.” His sigh was heavy.
Mia’s phone buzzed, and she tugged it from her pocket, noting the call was from Claire. “Hi, Claire. Are you checking on me?”
“No. I just wanted you to know that we found another body off I-90 at the gas station right at the exit. It’s across the county line, but the pack owns the gas station, of course. The victim is a woman, killed like the rest, and her death was only a few hours ago,” Claire said quietly. “We just cordoned off the scene. Should I call the Seattle FBI? I’m not really a deputy.”
Mia clicked through options for the best thing to do. “Yes, call the Seattle FBI and have them process the scene. We’ll get there as soon as we can.” She disconnected.
Kurt zipped up his coat, his jaw set hard. “Sounds like we have another one?”
Mia nodded. “Off I-90, several miles from Lost Lake.”
Rodney crumpled up the bill and shoved it into his apron pocket. “That sucks, but I was here all day.”
Kurt studied him. “It really wasn’t you, was it?”
Rodney’s shoulders slumped even more. “No. I told you it wasn’t.” He looked toward the waitress by the door, who was watching him with wide eyes. “But thanks for ruining my life. I’d like to return the favor sometime. You know? I think I will speak to that lawyer. I might have a decent case for harassment.” He stomped away and shoved open the door to the kitchen without looking back.
Mia swallowed. She’d worry about a harassment case later. “We have to return to Lost Lake. Now.”