“A little investigation.”
“Everyone in this room, including you, Peterson,” Miles says, “knows that Chance didn’t have anything to do with Joey Hopkins’s death.”
“I know nothing of the sort,” he counters.
“You want to know what I think?” Miles asks.
“Not particularly,” Peterson says dryly.
“I thought you wanted us to talk, to give you information? If that’s the case, shut the fuck up and just listen. I think you're pissed off that you can’t get me for this, so you’re going after my brother.”
“You? You think I’m afteryou? I already cleared you. You accusing me of being a dirty cop, Bridger?”
Miles shrugs. “I’m just stating an opinion, Peterson. You’ve had it out for me since you found me at Sadie’s place.”
“You’d be well advised not to say another word, Bridger.” Peterson adjusts his necktie.
I give Miles a soft kick under the table.
Chance is a little less subtle.
“Shut the fuck up, Miles,” Chance snaps. “Shankle’s out of the room. If he were in here, he’d tell you to button it.”
Miles opens his mouth, so I give him another kick, this one harder.
Peterson is essentially harmless, but hewillbend the law when he has to, and if he wants to make Miles Bridger’s life miserable? Or Chance Bridger’s, as a way to get to Miles? He’ll do it. He won’t manufacture evidence, but he’ll do everything up to that point, and he’ll make them jump through so many damned hoops before he clears Chance that they won’t be able to see straight.
Peterson opens his mouth to speak—
But the door opens, and Mr. Shankle walks back in.
At the academy, we took a course in body language and facial expression. We learned how certain emotions present themselves on a person’s face and in their mannerisms.
Shankle must be a damned good attorney, because I sure can’t read him right now.
“Ready to continue?” Peterson asks.
“Oh, yes.” Mr. Shankle takes his seat. “I think you will be interested in what I have to say.”
“And what’s that?”
“Before we speak further, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the conference room, Mr. Peterson. I’d like to speak to my clients in private.”
Peterson stands, which surprises me. I expected him to fight that. Instead—
“Very well. Hopkins, you’re with me.”
Now I see what he’s after. He doesn’t want me involved in whatever Shankle has to say to the Bridger’s.
“Why the hell does she have to leave?” Miles says.
“Because she’s a detective on this case.”
“You need to recuse yourself, baby,” Miles says to me. “You and I both know that.”
It’s not what I want to do, but it really is necessary in this case, not just because of my involvement with Miles Bridger but because the victim is my brother. I have major conflicts of interest.
“If you recuse yourself,” Peterson says, “I can’t guarantee you’re going to have a job.”