some murky-ass territory, Scott.”
“You have history with Commander Brandt, so I get that you want to walk this rope carefully. If you would prefer that I visit Mrs. Brandt alone…”
“It’s not that.”
I stared at him in anticipation of a response that he was hesitant to give. “What is it?”
“You know IA has been riding his ass about Chloe and Walter, right?”
“I’ve heard the rumbles.”
“Yeah, well, it’s more than rumbles. Rumor is they have records that prove the commander was on the phone with Walter the moment he was shot. There’s also a statement from Chloe saying she witnessed Walter in a heated exchange with Brandt outside the commander’s office less than an hour before. That statement has been sealed, and Chloe hasn’t been willing to talk about it.”
I sniffed loudly, a nervous tick I’ve had since I was a kid. I was familiar with the accusations the same as everyone else in the department. And like everyone else I wanted nothing more than to dismiss them. Then I had a meeting with Lieutenant Hitchcock and a representative from the Attorney General’s office, and suddenly I couldn’t dismiss anything.
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that they’re going after the commander with both barrels, and its bullshit. He and Detective Graham go back twenty-five years, yet they’re trying to say that the commander is covering up something in connection to his murder. It’s ridiculous to the point of being laughable, but it’s not stopping them. What do you think they’re going to do when they learn that he’s connected not only to Marisol Alvarez, but also to the man who is the prime suspect in her murder?”
“I could give two shits about what those idiots do.”
Kimball’s brow furrowed. “Some of us can’t afford to be that nonchalant about it.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“I think we have to circle the wagons around Brandt.”
“By doing what?”
“Burying the Alvarez connection.”
I winced at the pain as my heart began a slow descent into my stomach. “You’re joking, right?”
“No I’m not.”
“Nate that’s completely unnecessary. The chances of the connection between Marisol, Arturo, and the Brandt’s being anything beyond business are slim to nonexistent. If we start burying stuff that doesn’t need to be buried, then we’re asking for trouble. If, on the other hand, we get out in front of this thing by addressing it before anyone else does, the story dies the natural death that it’s supposed to.”
“You obviously don’t know how internal investigations work around here,” Kimball replied in a dismissive tone that I didn’t appreciate.
“Well apparently you do. So educate me.”
The skin in Kimball’s jaw bulged before he took a deep breath to settle himself. “No reason to get heated. We obviously want the same thing.”
“You sure about that?” I asked; still feeling rather heated.
We stopped at a red light just in time for Kimball to look me square in the eye. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Then you won’t have any problem paying Bethany Brandt a visit.”
Kimball held his eye contact as the light turned green. I could only hope we were looking upon each other as the allies that we had always been.
“Sure, let’s go.”
CHAPTER 9
Mindful that an unannounced visit by a homicide detective was the worst nightmare of any cop’s family, I called the downtown offices of Brandt Architecture and Design ahead of our visit. We promptly changed course upon learning that Bethany Brandt was spending the day working out of her Cherry Hills home office.
“You think they’ll pat us down before letting us through the gates?” I asked in an attempt to cut the tension that had settled over us.
A half-smile briefly infiltrated Kimball’s face. “I’ve heard the country-clubbers have a real problem with you sandy-blond types, so I’d say it’s a good possibility.”
I chuckled with relief at the