Ghosts of Riverview (The Braddock & Gray Case Files Book 13), page 13
Another flash. A phone call to Kipp, then in a clearer headspace. Again, Sully heard no words, but he understood the change in Kipp’s thoughts. He’d been threatened. By O’Dell.
Another call from Kipp to O’Dell. Different day, different phone. Another burner. Kipp’s stomach dropping as O’Dell threatened his family.
Kipp standing at his adoptive parents’ graves. Staring into Alain’s window from outside. Wanting to talk to him, knowing he couldn’t.
The bald-headed, dead-eyed dealer passing off a quantity of bagged drugs to Kipp in exchange for cash.
The needle going in. Kipp and his companions dropping like flies.
Sully came out of the vision to find Dez at his side, hand on his back helping to hold him upright. Sully’s head swam as he eased himself back fully onto his butt.
“Is he all right?” Winch asked. The shifting sound of his voice told Sully he was probably circling the desk to check on him.
“He’ll be okay,” Dez said. “He passes out sometimes if he doesn’t eat properly. I keep telling him to get it checked out.”
“You absolutely should,” Winch said. “Your health is nothing to mess around with.”
A snack bar appeared in Sully’s peripheral vision, and he reluctantly took it from Winch. “Thanks.”
“Would he be more comfortable in a chair?” Winch asked Dez as if Sully weren’t there.
“Yeah, probably,” Dez said.
Sully gritted his teeth but didn’t fight it as Dez and Winch heaved him to his feet and marched him to the spare chair next to Dez. Once they’d deposited him into it, Winch moved to his desk, giving Dez the opportunity to raise his brows at Sully in question.
Sully nodded. Yes, it had been a vision.
Dez’s expression made it clear he was nowhere near done with his questions but knew they’d have to wait. He had other questions to ask Winch yet, ones which likely wouldn’t be nearly as useful.
Winch paused before sitting, fishing a couple of bottles of water from a small bar fridge set into the shelving unit behind the desk. He plunked them in front of Sully and Dez, then sat back in his rocking wingback desk chair.
He studied Sully one more time. “You seem to have your colour back. Are you feeling better?”
Sully, midway through an obligatory bite of the snack bar, nodded. He swallowed before answering. “Fine, yeah. Thanks.”
“So you won’t need an ambulance?”
“No. This happens sometimes.”
Winch appeared satisfied with this and refocused on Dez. “Good stuff. So where were we?”
“You’d finished telling me about some of the projects the Old Downtown BID was involved in. One I’m particularly interested in, actually, is the old police station. I’ve heard some rumblings over the building being considered for sale or redevelopment. Do you know anything about it?”
Winch leaned back in his chair, rocking slightly as he steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “As you say, there have indeed been some rumblings. It was picked up in the paper, actually. It’s not any great secret the place has been going downhill for some time. The bones of the place are wonderful, and the location is desirable—as is the fact we’re talking a full city block. On top of that, the place doesn’t come with an attached heritage designation, meaning whoever purchases it wouldn’t need to jump through added hoops should they wish to demolish and start fresh.”
Sully felt like Winch was getting off track, probably on purpose. He had to know where Dez had been leaning.
Dez seemed to have gotten the same impression. “Right, as you say, no great secret. Those recent overdoses, for example—and I doubt those were the only tragedies to occur with the place—do things like that make a property more difficult to put on the market?”
Winch had stopped rocking for a couple of seconds when Dez mentioned the overdoses, but he started again just as quickly. “Actually, no. Let’s face it, Mr. Evers, it’s difficult to find a place without some darkness attached. Every decommissioned police station comes with its share of skeletons, so to speak. And it’s not just police stations or correctional institutions with tragedies attached. People die in their homes all the time. Even churches are associated with death and abuse. People searching for properties to develop are aware of these things. Worst case scenario for the city, those would-be buyers attempt to get themselves a sweeter deal by pointing to some bleak event connected with a place. Reality is people are willing to overlook quite a bit to get themselves their desired property.”
Dez nodded. “Understood. Thanks. On another note, the man we saw leaving your office—that was Mike O’Dell, wasn’t it?”
The chair stopped rocking again. “It was. You’re familiar with him?”
“He bought your company, Lightway Developments, didn’t he?”
Winch sat up straight, snapping the chair upright. “He did. A number of years back.”
“Must have been difficult for you, selling it. I can tell you’ve remained passionate about maintaining the city’s older properties.”
Winch folded his arms atop his desk, leaning into them. “A man’s got to accept when the tides are turning. I tried my best to prop up the former core. Unfortunately, people wanted something newer and sleeker. The voices of the many always drown out those of the few. I had two choices: keep fighting the good fight or accept a modicum of defeat. I never considered it a full defeat; the Old Downtown remains vibrant and contains a significant amount of our key structures—including City Hall, where I now spend so much of my time. I also knew, however, that I stood a better chance of meeting my goals if I followed the adage about joining ’em when you can’t beat ’em.”
Something about how Winch was saying all the right things struck Sully the wrong way. He sounded as if he’d practiced his statements in front of the mirror, drilling the words into his brain so they’d be right there when he needed to reproduce them. Politics was, of course, a profession for people who knew how to talk a good game, whether they meant the words or not. While Sully believed in honourable and even idealistic politicians, too often they were drowned out by the Barton Winches of the world.
“If you don’t mind me saying,” Dez said, “I got the impression there’s not a lot of love lost between you and Mr. O’Dell.”
Winch appeared to chew on the inside of his cheek. A line of questioning he hadn’t prepared for, perhaps. “Noticed, did you?” Buying time with a question.
Dez shrugged. “Trained observer.”
Winch grinned. Another smile ending far below the eye line. “You certainly seem to be.” He leaned backward, giving another gentle rock of his chair. “You’d be correct. While I willingly turned over Lightway to Mike, some things are hard to let go of. When you build a company from the ground up, it’s difficult to sell it. I thought Mike would do a good job of it, and he has. But his vision is very different from mine. Doesn’t have the same passion for saving the city’s classic structures. He’s more the rip-it-all-down-and-start-fresh sort. We’ve come to loggerheads a number of times over it—not actual physical fights, but we’ve had some real arguments.
“He’s right when he says it’s no longer my place to dictate what Lightway does. On the other hand, part of the purchase agreement was that I keep a minority share in the company and retain my place on the board. So even though I can’t tell him what to do, I argue I do, in fact, still have some say.”
Dez tapped the tips of his index fingers against his lips, head tilting to suggest thought. “Your portfolio with the city involves economic development, right?”
“It’s one of my areas, yes. I sit on a few committees, as do most councillors.”
“Right, but you head that one up.”
“I do.”
Dez continued to tap. “My understanding is part of your role includes facilitating certain developments within the city. For instance, if a company is interested in setting up shop in KR, you might be involved in trying to sell them on it. Correct?”
Winch gave a smile—this one greasy enough that if Sully were on the receiving end, he’d feel the need to take a shower afterward. “Of course.”
“Would that include pointing business owners toward potential properties?”
Winch cocked his head as he peered at Dez. “It can.” He drew out the words.
“Including buildings owned by the city? The old police station, for example?”
“Sure, if we have vacant properties which might be suitable following renovation, we have those conversations. The former bus depot was one of those.”
“Lightway got the contract to renovate that, no?”
Winch narrowed his eyes. “Look, where is this going, exactly?”
Dez held up a hand. “Just thinking out loud. Didn’t mean to offend you.”
Winch stared at him a long moment. The silence broke alongside another slimy grin. “Not offended at all. Just curious.”
“Guess I’m curious too.” Dez’s smile didn’t reach his eyes either. “Would it ever be a conflict of interest, given you chair the economic development committee and all? I mean, if you’re steering business toward a company you continue to hold shares in.”
The set of Winch’s jaw suggested his teeth had gritted. “If there’s a project in which Lightway’s made a serious and potentially successful bid, I recuse myself from the process.”
“But some of those conversations don’t happen on the books, am I right? Backroom deals happen all the time.”
Winch slapped the desk’s surface. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating here.”
Sully’s phone, ringer turned to silent, vibrated with an incoming text. He considered ignoring it but recalled Lachlan was checking out O’Dell. Given the spirit energy swirling around the guy—energy which had to be related to homicide since it was visible to Sully—he didn’t want to leave Lachlan hanging.
Sully pulled out his phone and checked the screen. Yep, Lachlan.
Tailing O’Dell now.
Sully thumb-typed his response. Where?
He didn’t get a response. No big surprise. Lachlan wasn’t the best with technology at the best of times, even worse when it required multitasking. Sully didn’t know if Lachlan was on foot or driving; either way, safer for everyone if Lachlan remained focused on his task and not on his phone.
Sully tucked the phone back into his pocket and returned his attention to the interview. The situation seemed to be breaking down fast, Dez and Winch glaring daggers at each other. Only a matter of seconds before Winch chucked them out on their asses.
Time to ask the really tough questions.
“I’m sorry to butt in,” Sully said. “Something I was wondering about, and I hoped you could answer it.”
A flicker of relief flashed across Winch’s face. “Go right ahead.”
Time to get down to it. “Do you know someone by the name of Kipp Leippi?”
Winch gave a cool shrug. “Should I?”
Sully noted he hadn’t actually said no and wondered if he was hedging or genuinely didn’t know. “He’s one of the three men who died during the mass overdose a couple weeks ago.”
Winch repeated his shrug. “Heard about it. Very unfortunate. Not sure what it has to do with me.”
Sully wasn’t sure either. Come right down to it, he had no reason to believe Winch had anything to do with it at all. Except he couldn’t shake the feeling plucking at his insides that Winch was guilty of something.
Which brought him to his next question. “What about Cal Harris?”
This time, Winch appeared to be the one in need of a snack bar.
“Are you all right, Mr. Winch?” Sully asked.
“Fine.” He didn’t sound fine. He cleared his throat heavily. “He’s the young man who was killed during the renovation of police cells. I recall it happening.”
“Was the Business Improvement District involved in the renos at all?”
“Not particularly. No need for BID involvement on that one.”
“So why did a witness report seeing you in police cells the day Cal Harris was killed?”
Sully had been watching Winch carefully, prepared to pick up on any tells. He needn’t have worried about missing something.
A vein in Winch’s forehead popped. His eyes bulged. His breath caught in his throat with an audible gasp.
Beside Sully, Dez went rigid. Maybe Sully had played his card too soon, but they were here now, and he knew realistically they might not get another chance, not the way the questioning had gone so far.
In deep already, Sully decided to prod. “Mr. Winch?”
“Get out.” The words came out choked but no less forceful.
“You didn’t answer the question, sir.”
Winch stood, gripping the edge of his desk. “I said, get out! Before I call security. This was a ploy, all of it. You didn’t want to discuss economic development at all, did you? This was a deliberate attempt to fuck me over. Who put you up to this? Was it Allard?” Winch snorted. “Bet it was Allard.”
Dez held up a placating palm. “She had nothing to do with what my colleague just asked you. Calm down, sir. I’m not sure why you’re so upset.”
Of course, Dez knew. He knew just as well as Sully did.
“I wasn’t meaning to imply anything,” Sully said.
“What part of ‘get out’ do I need to explain?” Winch’s glare was poison. And it was the same look he’d given Marlo.
A week before his fatal shooting.
Dez tapped Sully on the arm. “We’re done here.” His tone carried its own share of danger.
Sully stood alongside him and headed for the exit, camera bag in hand. Didn’t much matter now. Sully was certain they’d be seeing plenty of Barton Winch in the next while—whether Winch wanted it or not.
CHAPTER 17
Sully figured Dez would begin launching questions or criticism as soon as they were back on the street, and he wasn’t disappointed.
“What was that all about?” Dez demanded.
Sully peered up at him. Dez’s jaw was set hard, his shoulders tense. Not happy.
“Kipp was there,” Sully explained. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you. There wasn’t a good way to do it.”
Dez had managed to get them a decent parking spot on the next block over, near to where they’d chatted with Lachlan prior to the interview. He dropped into the driver’s seat, waiting until Sully did the same on the passenger side before responding.
“I know things were getting a little heavy in there between him and me. That was sort of the point,” Dez said. “You might have just blown things for us.”
“Why?” Sully followed the question with a half-smile. “You got a problem with your photographer asking questions? I happen to know Sarah always asks the paper’s photographers to chip in with questions. Covers off things she might have missed.”
“Do the paper’s photographers ask whether their interview subjects are involved in a string of deaths?”
Sully shook his head, leaning back in the seat and staring out at the street. “You’re bossy.”
Dez growled low in his throat. “Just wish I’d known where you were taking things, is all. I hate being caught with my pants down on these things.”
“Wear suspenders.”
Sully felt Dez’s glare on him without needing to turn to confirm it.
If Dez had anything more to say, he was interrupted by his phone ringing.
“Braddock,” Dez said as he picked up the call. A few moments passed in which Sully could do nothing but gauge the content of the call from Dez’s expression. Dez hadn’t bothered to put it on speaker. “Right. Okay, keep us posted. Thanks.”
He disconnected. “Lachlan,” he told Sully as he placed the phone into one of the centre console cupholders. “He’s still watching O’Dell. Lachlan’s parked outside Lightway HQ while O’Dell’s inside. He’ll keep us posted. Wants us to stay and watch for Winch to leave. He’ll be sending license plates and car makes in a sec.”
Sully held back a groan. Stakeouts could be long and tedious. After a moment, Dez’s phone pinged, and he read out the details. Winch had three vehicles, none of them of the cheap variety.
With Dez’s jaw still tight, Sully reverted to their previous conversation with a sigh. “I am sorry, okay? Sometimes, I don’t get a chance to fill you in. You know that.”
Dez studied him a long moment. Finally, he rolled his eyes. “Okay, whatever. So where’s Kipp now?”
Sully scanned the SUV’s interior to satisfy himself. “Not here. I didn’t see him come down with us.”
“Why was he up there? Any idea? I mean, does he believe Winch is responsible for something?”
“O’Dell had a shedload of spirit energy connected to him—spirits I could see. You know what that means.”
Dez frowned, nodding slowly. “Lachlan said he was slimy. But hell, man, there’s a long distance between being a grimy money-grabber and being a murderer. You’re saying he’s the latter?”
“I don’t know. All I know is nobody walks around with that number of ghosts attached if they’re not involved in something really bad.”
Dez tapped at the steering wheel. “You think maybe Kipp came in with O’Dell and stayed for you? He might not be connected to Winch at all.”
“Yep, it’s more than possible.” Sully eyed Dez. “You really think I burned us here? With Winch, I mean.”
Dez stopped tapping and tilted his head at Sully. “I’d already set the fire. You just fanned the flames. You saw how antsy Winch was already with my line of questioning.”
“Yeah, but like you said, I basically tried to connect him with people’s deaths. Kind of a big deal.”
Dez sighed. “Yeah, it is. Not saying you were wrong though. I might have done things a little differently, but it’s a tactic police use all the time. Level the accusation and watch the suspect unravel. People get sloppy when they’re nervous. And you’ve just given Winch a hell of a good reason to be nervous.”
