Free Maximum Guilt (Hidden Guilt Book 2) by Terry Keys Page A

brother?”
    “I appreciate the concern, Detective, but let’s be honest; you guys never catch the bad guys. What percentage of the murders do you really solve here in Houston?”
    This guy had some nerve. Here I am trying to help find the person who killed his brother, and all I’m getting is flack.
    “I’ll ask the questions here, Mr. Blake. But just for the record, I actually have a pretty damn good solve rate for the cases I’m involved with. Again, do you know anyone who would want to hurt your brother?”
    “No. My brother was a good man. He always looked after me, and he loved his family.”
    “Intel informs me that your brother used to frequent strip clubs. Seems he had an affinity for the nightlife. You know anything about that?”
    “Hey, what guy doesn’t like to see a little flesh from time to time? No reason to kill a guy.”
    “Not implying that’s a reason, Mr. Blake. Just verifying my intel. Your brother a gambler? He owe somebody money?”
    “No and no. We almost done here?”
    “Yes, just a few more questions. Being his right-hand man, you must know how his wife felt about his need to . . . how’d you put it? See a little flesh? Other than her own, of course.”
    “I don’t know. She isn’t my wife. Is this really going to help you find my brother’s killer?”
    “It might. Could help me rule out or identify a motive. Your brother have you on his insurance policy? How about his business; it all turned over to you now?”
    “Are you suggesting—”
    “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m simply doing my job. Someone butchered your brother. If you guys were as close as I’m told you were, you’d think finding his killer would be a top priority for you. Unless, of course . . .”
    “I didn’t kill my brother. I don’t know who did or why they’d want to. My brother’s business is one hundred percent mine now, yes. I’d give it all back and then some to have my brother back. Fuck you for suggesting otherwise, Detective. So the man liked to go to Heartbreakers—so fucking what. Big fucking deal. That’s not a reason to have a man killed. Sounds like you need a lap dance yourself. Have a nice day.”
    Blake disconnected the call, I stared at my phone for a second.
    “Well, Porter, that went well,” Lafitte said, laughing.
    “Yeah, some go better than others,” I said.
    “I’m learning, Porter. Call the family, piss them off, get absolutely no leads, and then they hang up on you?” De Luca said.
    “I beg to differ; I got plenty. Unless the brother and wife are having an affair, both can probably be ruled out. The wife didn’t get the business, and the brother seems legitimately pissed off about his brother’s murder. John did frequent strip clubs, so we validated that. We also know he doesn’t owe any bookies money. So we learned quite a bit.”
    “And you believe everything that little jerk was spewing?” De Luca said.
    “I’ve learned, for the most part, to remove the emotion from a suspect’s questioning and dig out the root of their answers. Carl loved his brother. I’d even say he adored him. He does sound like an entitled little brat, but it doesn’t make him a killer. He’d have no reason to leave behind the BF calling card. I wasn’t trying to suggest Carl did it; I was trying to make him believe I was. I got him riled up, and he gave me the most important piece of evidence yet. There are about one hundred gentlemen’s clubs in Houston; however, we now know the one John Blake frequented. That’s where we go next. Maybe Brittany was a dancer there. Maybe Blake was one of her regulars. Maybe somebody can tell us where she lives or what she drives.”
    “Guess you get the last laugh, David,” Lafitte said.
    “I’ll laugh when I have Karen at home and Stacy and Brittany behind bars.”
     
     
    Chapter 15
     
    “Hey, baby, guess what?”
    “What do you want, Carl? That wife of yours gone yet?”
    “Actually, she is. I have to meet a few clients for