They drove downtown beneath the star-studded sky. Traffic from the Grizzlies game was streaming out of the FedEx Forum and jamming up Poplar in both directions. They ate their grilled cheese sandwiches while they waited.
Billy worked through the family names he knew that were connected to the Lees. Nothing clicked. Phillips could be a Memphis branch or someone related by marriage. The guy showing up like this might be involved in the murder or just plain nuts. There was no shortage of crazy in this town.
Frankie parked in the garage next to the Criminal Justice Complex. The elevator took them to the mezzanine level overlooking the atrium. During the day defendants packed the place for General Sessions Criminal Court, traffic court, and Judge Tim Dwyer’s drug court where he authorized alternative treatments for non-violent offenders instead of jail time. At night the atrium echoed with the sound of the custodians running floor buffers.
They peered over the mezzanine’s rail at the guy seated on a bench near the door with a stack of files next to him. He had a solid presence, sturdy shoulders and thick forearms. He wore a beat-down canvas hat, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, a leather vest, and tan trousers.
Phillips looked around, studied his knuckles, jigged his knee.
“Nerves,” Billy said.
“That’s Judd Phillips from Nighttime Poker,” Frankie said.
“You watch TV poker?”
“I watch him play no limit-hold ’em tournaments. He’s good.”
“The hell you say.”
She smirked.
Phillips slipped a flask from his pocket and took a swig. He might be a poker-playing TV star, and the ladies might see him as the rugged romantic type, but Billy had him pegged as a drunk.
They took the stairs, the whir of the floor buffers covering the sound of their steps. Phillips jumped to his feet when he saw them coming and knocked into the stack of files. Two slid to the floor, spilling their contents.
“Sorry,” he slurred. “I’m a little under the weather. Name’s Judd Phillips, Caroline Lee’s second cousin.” He dropped his head and widened his eyes as if exhausted. “Can’t believe this is happening. Finn’s gone. Now Caroline’s dead.”
Alarms went off in Billy’s head. “I’m Detective Able. This is Detective Malone. Who’s this Finn?”
“Our cousin. He disappeared five years ago. All they found were his folded clothes beside a rice field.”
“I remember the case,” Billy said. The media had played down the disappearance after the Crittenden County Sherriff’s Office suspected suicide. The tragedy was never connected to the Lee family.
Judd swayed. “I was in Vegas this afternoon taping a show. A video on a Memphis news app came up showing Caroline’s Camaro. I caught the first flight out and drove directly here.”
“You have information about her murder?” Frankie asked.
He looked surprised. “No, I haven’t talked to Caroline in months.”
“Then why are you here, Mr. Phillips?” she asked.
“Please. Call me Judd.” He shook his head. “Guess I didn’t think it through.”
Bullshit, Billy thought but kept his mouth shut. Frankie was back in the saddle after the incident with Vanderman. Let her run.
She nodded toward the bench. “What’s in the files?”
“Finn’s case. I hired an investigator after he disappeared . . .” Judd paled. He glanced around.
Billy pointed to the bathroom. “That way.”
Judd hustled off and through the door. They heard retching, silence, and then sink water running.
“We can’t talk to him in this shape,” Billy said. He tapped a number into his mobile and gave the address for the CJC.
Frankie knelt to gather the spilled files. She stopped to read a document and held it up. “He hired Walker Investigations. That’s a good firm.”
“The best. Walker has moved on. Oregon I think.”
Judd came out of the bathroom carrying his hat. He ran his hand through his hair. “Man. I must’ve gotten hold of some bad fish on the plane.”
“Yeah, right.” Billy could smell whiskey fumes three feet away.
Frankie held up the files. “You’re thinking your cousin’s disappearance is connected to Caroline’s murder?”
“They both hooked up with a really bad man when they were at Rhodes College. The investigator I hired believed the guy was involved in Finn’s disappearance. He’s been incarcerated but now he’s on the loose. So yeah, I think it’s possible.” He dropped his gaze and turned the brim of his hat in his hand. “I apologize for coming here in this condition.”
“Detective,” the officer at the door called. “You ordered a cab?”
Billy fixed Judd with a stare. “You better have fifty bucks on you, because you’re not driving home.”
Judd nodded, took the files from Frankie, and handed her a card. “Here’s my number and address. Whatever you need, I’m available.” He picked up the rest of the files and walked away with as much dignity as he could muster.
“I saw a photo in Caroline’s study, five kids with Easter baskets,” Frankie said. “I’ll bet Judd was the tall one.” Her eyes widened. “Hold on. Something just hit me. I’ll meet you upstairs.” She took off after Phillips.
Like hell, I’ll meet you upstairs. Billy stood there and waited. A few minutes later she came back cradling all the files in her arms.
“Was he ever embarrassed,” she said. “He never loses his cool on TV. Nothing shakes him.” She waggled a second card in her fingers. “Here’s his producer’s mobile number. I’ll check out his alibi tomorrow.”
“What’s your interest in those files?”
She shifted the files to her hip. “The piece of paper I found in Caroline’s car? It had the name Finn Adams on it.”