Athena walked him out, standing across the lobby from the elevator, giving him space. The doors opened. From his pocket, Ricky De León pulled out a silver lighter and snapped it open.
Athena’s eyes narrowed.
Click.
Chapter 19
“What do you think?” Campbell asked, hands on his hips, jacket swinging open as the suspect headed downstairs.
Spinning on her heel, angling toward her domain, Athena stated, “No alibi, and he’s into lighters. He stays on the list.”
Falling in beside her, Campbell added, “And the employee’s name he threw out?”
“Look up everything you can find on her.”
Athena stopped by the ladies’ room to freshen up, returning to find Travis Ice’s butt propped on Karen’s desk, his expression bright as they chatted. She frowned on principle alone.
“Where’d you put Rusk?”
The athletically-built agent jumped like a startled rabbit, twisting to face her. “In interview room two. Hernandez is watching him. Guy was full of bluster and bravado on the way over.”
“Well,” Athena said, adjusting the front line of her blouse and fluffing her tresses. “We’ll see how long that lasts. Since you’re here, you might as well assist Shoops with those warehouse employee files.”
Assistant Special Agent in Charge Bouvier breezed into the interview room, introduced herself, and took a seat beside Hernandez. Calvin Rusk lived up to the impression she’d gotten from his photograph—from his worn leather cowboy boots and scruffy blue jeans to his chiselled jaw and eyebrow scar. Not handsome like De León—just worn and weathered.
“So, agents,” he began. “What’s so pressing you hauled me off my construction crew to ask about?”
“There have been a few industrial fires around Houston recently,” Hernandez said.
“There’s always fires in Houston,” he shot back with a grin. “Heck, I hear sirens whizzin’ by my road every day. What’s that got to do with me?”
“Are you familiar with Shreveport Steel Solutions, a steel pipe factory?” Athena asked. The man, a good ten years older than the previous suspect, raked his gaze over her before meeting her eyes.
“No. Why should I be? I’ve never lived in Shreveport.”
“But you’ve been there,” Hernandez prompted. “This summer, even.”
“There’s some good casinos in Shreveport,” Rusk allowed casually, “and without Baton Rouge’s traffic.”
“Do you recall where you were on August 8th, Mr. Rusk?” Athena tilted her chin, ice in her eyes.
“I don’t rightly recall.” Folding his arms over his chest, he mirrored her look.
Athena slid a copy of his speeding ticket from her folder, placed it on the table facing him, and tapped it with a ruby fingernail.
Rusk barked a dry laugh. “If you already knew, why bother asking?”
“To test your level of cooperation and honesty, of course,” she stated. With a predatory grin, she added, “Zero for two so far.”
With a huff, he switched postures, this time leaning forward, elbows on the table. “I didn’t do anything—just wasted the money I won at blackjack paying the stupid ticket.”
“Mr. Rusk, your record indicates you’ve had some run-ins with the law in the past,” Hernandez said. “Served two years for aggravated assault.”
“Yeah, so what? Don’t mean diddly now. Folks get into fights. Can I help it if I was stronger and better, and he ended up in the hospital with a broken arm and fractured cheekbone? Wuss! If he hadn’t been three sheets to the wind, I could’ve been the one in the hospital and him in jail. That doesn’t make me some kind of criminal. I do an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay.”
Athena abruptly switched topics. “Do you like fires, Mr. Rusk?”
“I ain’t scared of ‘em, but they’re not my buddies, either. Why?” He turned his confused gaze on her. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”
