"Are you a lawyer?" he asked.
"No," his heretofore-silent younger partner said. "She's a private investigator who works for Walsh. She has a master's degree from Yale. English major, I think. But she got her PI license recently."
The lead gave him a look, and the younger one mumbled, "It was in the papers."
"He's correct," I said. "Unless you have a warrant to arrest Ricky, any questioning you need to do can be done at our office...after Mr. Walsh arrives."
"We don't need--"
"Gabriel?" I said, lifting my phone from my pocket and hitting the speaker button. "Did you get all that?"
"Yes." His deep voice sounded across the line, the clink of keys telling me he was on his way even before he said, "I'll meet you there."
CHAPTER THREE
When we arrived, Gabriel was already at the office. He hassled the senior partner--Detective Amos--about the pull-over and the middle-of-the-night questioning. Setting the tone, much as Ricky had. The biker was a reasonable guy; his lawyer was the asshole. That wasn't an act, either.
Gabriel is one of the best defense attorneys in Chicago. One of the most infamous, too--blackmail, intimidation, and extortion were just a few tricks in his bag. A lawyer is supposed to represent his client to the best of his ability, and Gabriel really can, because he doesn't worry about pesky obstacles like ethics and conscience.
If you put them side by side, and asked which was the biker, most people would guess Gabriel. Yes, he's about six-four and built like a linebacker. But it's more than that. Gabriel is that moment before a storm when everything seems preternaturally calm but you can feel the electricity in the air, and know you'll get no exact warning when danger and destruction comes. Ricky is as warm and calm as a summer's day, and while there can be storms, you'll get plenty of warning, and it'll be a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder, passing quickly, the sun blazing bright again.
Only when Gabriel decided he'd suitably reprimanded Amos for his missteps did he usher us all into the meeting room.
As soon as we took our seats, Amos slapped down a photo of Ricky in a bar. Someone sat across from him--me. I recognized the sleeve of my jacket. Amos laid out three more photos. One was of Ricky getting off his bike. One was of him leaving a lecture hall. The last was of him sitting under a tree with me again, my back to the camera.
"It seems someone has my client under surveillance," Gabriel said. "I presume this is your work?"
"No, it's his."
The detective laid down another photo. I took one look at the man in the photo and inhaled involuntarily, catching a sharp look from Gabriel and a confused one from Ricky.
"You know this man, Miss Larsen?" Amos asked.
"It's Taylor-Jones," Gabriel rumbled. "And Ms. is preferred. Olivia is not the subject of this interview, so please do not question her."
"But..." I began. "That's Matt, isn't it? The barista down the road?"
Another glimmer of confusion from Ricky. Gabriel, though, understood in a heartbeat. Yes, there was a barista named Matt at our regular coffee shop. Yes, like this guy, he was around thirty, light-haired, and bearded. But I'd only made the comment to cover my initial reaction. Gabriel smoothly went on to say that yes, this man resembled our barista but he didn't think it was. Perhaps Detective Amos could confirm that?
As Amos answered, I had to fight to keep from staring
at the picture. Because I did indeed recognize the subject. He was the killer in my vision earlier that evening.
"...name is Ciro Halloran," Amos was saying when I forced my attention back on track.
"And this was the man taking photos of Mr. Gallagher?" Gabriel said.
"That's right. Halloran disappeared three days ago. A friend suspected foul play, saying Halloran had been investigating someone dangerous. When we went to Halloran's apartment, we found these." He waved at the photos. "It became clear who Halloran's target was."
"And in what capacity was Mr. Halloran 'investigating' my client?" Gabriel asked.
Amos said nothing, which meant he didn't know.
"You identified Ricky as the person Mr. Halloran feared based solely on the fact you found these photos in his apartment. Is that correct?"
"If you expect me to answer your questions, your client had better be ready to answer mine."
"So I'll assume Mr. Halloran's friend did not identify Mr. Gallagher as the man Halloran was worried about. You arrived at that conclusion based solely on finding these photos." Gabriel's expression said that was flimsy grounds for stopping Ricky and that he was being generous when he finally said, "All right, ask your questions."