Free Cross & Crown by Abigail Roux

ever known.
    “All it means is that you’ve seen this before,” Nick assured JD. “You could have been a regular customer at the shop. You could have seen this photo somewhere, say… an insurance company or a museum. The only thing it proves is that you weren’t there by chance. You are connected to this robbery somehow, that’s all we can say with any certainty.”
    JD took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay.”
    Nick tapped his stack of photos, straightening them, then he set them on the table as he stood. “We’ll be right back. You need anything? Food, drink?”
    JD answered with a dejected shake of his head.
    Nick and Kelly left him sitting there. Kelly noticed a uniform lurking near the door as they exited, and Nick gavehim a nod as they passed. Whether JD knew it or not, he was being held prisoner.
    “You were blowing smoke up his ass, right?” Kelly said under his breath. “He’s your main suspect, isn’t he?”
    “Pretty much,” Nick admitted. “He’s looking damn guilty.”
    “That sucks. To commit a crime and not even remember why you did it?”
    “Like Tijuana that one time.”
    Nick and Kelly both shuddered with the shared memory. Nick sat at his desk and turned his chair to glance back at the break room.
    “Dude,” Hagan said. “I know in your mind he’s a puppy in a cardboard box with a ‘take me home’ sign around his neck, but you can’t fight the evidence building up here.”
    “Did the prints come back yet?” Nick asked, sounding frustrated.
    “Yeah. John Doe Number Alive didn’t hit anywhere. But John Doe Number Dead came up with a prior.” Hagan turned his computer screen around so Nick and Kelly could see it.
    “Darragh O’Doyle,” Nick read under his breath.
    “That sounds made up,” Kelly said. “Is that real?”
    “He’s not local,” Hagan told them.
    “Irish national?” Nick asked. Hagan nodded. “Known associates?”
    “None listed. He got pinched last year but he never turned on his crew. Did six months, got out on good behavior, last record of him was that he’d headed back to Ireland.”
    “Well he’s back now. So we have an Irish connection.” Nick sat back in his chair, making a clicking sound with his teeth and tongue as he stared at the screen. “Let’s expand the fingerprints to international databases, see if we get a hit.”
    Kelly cleared his throat, waiting until Hagan got up and left before leaning toward Nick. “Isn’t Julian Cross Irish?”
    Nick nodded and pulled his phone from his back pocket. “We need to talk to him.” He hit the speaker button and set his phone on the desk between them.
    “Special Agent in Charge Garrett here.”
    “Well, aren’t we fancy,” Kelly teased.
    Nick shook his head. “Hey, Garrett, it’s O’Flaherty. And the Doc, obviously.”
    “Oh God, what now? Are you in jail? Being held by the IRA? Stuck on a reef in the Caribbean?”
    “Wow,” Kelly said. “That’s uncalled for.”
    Zane laughed. “I thought being engaged to Ty gave me some extra snark privileges.”
    “Hey!” Nick shouted. “Do I come running when you need help? Did I get shoved off the edge of a cliff for your ungrateful ass? Does my boat still have bullet holes in it?”
    “It still floats,” Zane countered, a smirk obvious in his voice.
    Nick grunted.
    “Haven’t heard from you two in a while, what’s going on?” Zane said, voice casual. Kelly had grown familiar enough with Zane to know he was taking care with his words, though. “You need to come to Baltimore, come see us.”
    Kelly gave Nick a sideways glance to see how he’d react to that, but Nick was expressionless. “Sorry, babe, this isn’t a social call. I need to know how to get in touch with Julian Cross.”
    “Cross. Why?”
    Nick made another clicking sound, refusing to answer.
    “Never mind, I didn’t ask,” Zane said quickly. “I don’t know how to get in touch with him. I assume he just shows up when he smells blood.”
    “How about Grady? You