Animal Instinct by Rosenfelt, David (novels for students TXT) 📕

computer or phone, and then if he did, how did he get her password?”

“Maybe she had a standard one that she always used. A dog’s name, something like that. Go on.”

“Do you use T-A-R-A?”

He frowns. “Damn, now I have to change it.”

“I didn’t buy it that he knew her passwords, but it’s possible. But then he painstakingly returned the most recent email for all these friendships she supposedly had? People he didn’t even know? That’s what published obituaries are for.”

Andy nods again. “Right. And the Lisa Yates thing bothered me. He remembered her right away when we asked, but didn’t remember returning her email? The one in which she said she was afraid for her life from a drug dealer? And we didn’t see his email to her on the pages Sam gave us. The guy was playing us. Although the part about admiring me and being a fan did ring true.”

When we get to Andy’s house, we update Laurie on our conversation with Steven Landry. She asks the obvious question: “Why would he lie?”

“Could have been to make himself look good,” I say. “The caring son, involved in his mother’s life to the point where he contacted all of her friends on her passing. It’s possible that the last time he saw her was twelve years ago this Tuesday; don’t forget, they lived nowhere near each other.”

Andy nods in agreement. “Also could be that, under questioning by a famous lawyer for whom he has such admiration, he didn’t want to admit that he knew about Lisa’s drug issues and her fear of being murdered. He might feel bad or embarrassed that he didn’t come forward in a manner that could have saved her life.”

“Okay,” Laurie says. “All good points. Now come up with a scenario in which he lied for a reason that relates to our case. What could the death of Doris Landry have to do with the murder of Lisa Yates?”

Unfortunately, that question leaves me stumped and seems to have the same effect on Andy. The truth is that it’s possible Steven Landry was basically telling the truth, albeit with a little starstruck embellishment. Maybe it’s even probable.

But if Andy and I are right and he actually was lying, I have no idea how it could have anything to do with Lisa Yates’s death. And it’s another giant step removed from the murder of Gerald Kline, which is the charge I am facing.

Andy responds to Laurie by saying, “Why do you have to ruin everything with your logical questions? It’s a very unattractive trait.”

Laurie smiles. “Sorry about that.” She says that she’ll have Sam check out Steven Landry, but I think she’s doing it more to humor us than anything else.

“As long as you’re doing that, why don’t we ask Sam to get Lisa Yates’s phone records for the last few months?” I ask. “It would be interesting to know if she talked to Doris Landry, or for that matter the two other people whose obits she had. And while we’re at it, he should get Kline’s phone records as well.”

I’ve become increasingly comfortable with using Sam to hack into computer systems in ways that are somewhat less than legal. That’s what facing life in prison can do to a person.

“Will do,” Laurie says. “And in the meantime, here’s what I suggest. We take the information you learned from Steven Landry, including and especially the fact that you think he was lying, and file it away. Hopefully, as we investigate further, it will click into place and make sense.”

The “investigate further” part is a bit of a problem. I have another person to talk to at Ardmore, but I am running out of “furthers” to investigate.

“Well, then let me help you with that,” Laurie says. “While you and Andy were off having a lovely all-boys breakfast, Marcus and I were actually getting things done.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I think we’ve found Rico.”

“How?” Andy asks.

“I asked Gerry Kimbrell; he’s a DEA agent I once worked with on a case. He wasn’t familiar with Rico, but asked around and came up with Rico Barnes, a dealer in Passaic. He’s very loosely connected to Joseph Russo, Jr.’s family, meaning he’s an independent contractor who pays them a percentage so he can operate.”

“And Marcus?”

“He came up with the same name,” she says. “I don’t know how; I guess just by being Marcus. Marcus is checking him out now.”

“Knowing who he is and linking him to Gerald Kline’s murder are two very different things,” I point out.

“We can subpoena Lisa’s emails and use that in court, right, Andy? The cops dropped the ball by not checking them in the first place.”

Andy shakes his head. “Yes, we can use it, but it’s possible the cops did check them. We don’t know either way because we don’t have access to discovery for Lisa’s murder. But if Dylan wound up with it, he’s in trouble for not turning it over because she mentions Kline might have been in danger from Rico as well. That’s exculpatory evidence that he’s obligated to disclose to us.”

“The police didn’t necessarily link the two killings,” I say. “They think Lisa could be a random drive-by and that she wasn’t even necessarily the target. It’s very unlikely they’ve checked an isolated email to an elderly woman in Somers Point from months ago.”

“So what do we do with Rico?” Laurie asks.

“We pressure him,” I answer. “Time for Simon to start pulling his weight around here.”

RICO works out of a parking lot in downtown Passaic.

I don’t know what his profit margin is like for his work selling drugs, but he’s definitely not blowing his money on office space.

Marcus has been checking things out for the last two nights, and he has Rico’s evenings down pat. From 8:00 P.M. until 10:00, he’s out making collections from people who have obviously purchased their drugs on the layaway plan. It’s possible that he’s also handing off more merchandise to the buyers; it’s been dark and Marcus hasn’t been