Bree ignored the suggestion and changed topics. “When was the last time you spoke to Deputy Oscar?”
“He testified at the trial and at my parole hearing. It was his fault I was denied early release the first time. He didn’t show for the second. I guess he had something else to do.” Kenny punched one hand hard with the other, his frustration clearly building. “How’d he die?”
Matt noted that Kenny said he, not they. If he was lying, he was consistent.
“Both Oscar and his mother were shot,” Bree said.
“His mother?” Kenny fell back a step. “His mother was shot too?”
“Yes.” Matt tapped his forehead. “She was shot in the head.”
Kenny held up both hands. He looked stricken. “What the fuck? She had to be old. Who kills an old lady? I would never do that. That’s a really shitty thing to do.”
Matt agreed, but was Kenny protesting too much? “Do you know where Oscar lived?”
Kenny shook his head.
“You were never tempted to find him after you got out of prison?” Matt let his question sound skeptical. “You never wanted to get even?”
“Why would I go looking for trouble?” Kenny asked.
“If you’re really innocent,” Bree said, “then he took years from your life. He hurt you financially. You lost your house, right? Your car. Your dignity. He took your future from you. You will never get that life back to the way it was.”
Kenny’s chin came up. “I don’t want to give him the chance to ruin the rest of it. I have a new lawyer who says he’s found a pattern of behavior with those two dudes. We’re going to sue the hell out of the county. My plan is to get some money and move far away from this place. Then I can start over somewhere else. I never want to see him—or Grey’s Hollow—again.”
Matt shot him a knowing look. “Well, now you won’t have to worry about Deputy Oscar’s testimony. That’s convenient.”
Kenny shut down. “That’s it. I’m done. I tried to cooperate with you, but you’re clearly going to try and screw me over again. If you want to ask me any more questions, I want my lawyer present.”
Bree pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to Kenny. “If you need to reach me for any reason, here are my numbers.”
Kenny took the card and tossed it onto the futon. “I don’t know anything. Are you going to arrest me?”
“No, but we’re going to search your apartment,” Bree said.
Matt glanced around. Wouldn’t take long.
“Fine.” Kenny huffed. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Nope,” Matt said.
Bree nodded to Matt. “You keep an eye on him. I’ll search.” She stopped the recording and fished Kenny’s cell phone out of her pocket. “Your passcode?”
Frowning, he gave it to her. Bree scrolled. “Who’s Quentin?”
“My boss,” he said in a flat voice.
She nodded, then handed him his phone and turned to survey the room.
Taking the phone, Kenny went stiff as steel, and he seemed to be holding his breath.
She began with a small chest of drawers, checked the single kitchen cabinet, then the bathroom. Dropping to her knees, she used a flashlight to look under the futon. Straightening, she lifted each cushion and examined the seams. The floor was a solid sheet of vinyl. None of the baseboards seemed loose. The entire search took ten minutes.
Bree brushed her hands on her cargo pants. “OK, Kenny. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and ignore the fact that you ran away.”
Kenny exhaled and relaxed.
She stepped closer. “But if we come back to ask you follow-up questions, don’t run.”
Kenny nodded but said nothing as they backed away.
Matt and Bree returned to the car. Bree sat in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield. “His apartment was clean. No weapon. His phone showed very little activity over the last two weeks, just a few texts and calls with Mrs. Weir and his boss. What do you think?”
Matt considered Kenny’s reactions. “Oscar’s death seemed to take him by surprise.”
Bree put the vehicle into gear. “And he was really thrown by Camilla’s.”
“Is he smart enough to successfully pull off a double homicide?”
“Maybe he’s a good actor, and he’s playing dumb.” Bree glanced at the house in the rearview mirror. “He has no alibi, great motive, and a quick temper. He ran the instant Mrs. Weir warned him we were here. He barely kept his cool with us and we didn’t even push him that hard.”