To get his attention, Bree went for shock. “Did you know that Oscar was dead?”
Dylan said nothing, but his posture stiffened.
“We found his body yesterday,” Matt said. “He was murdered.”
Dylan stepped into view. He wore full camo, complete with both a knife and gun strapped to his belt. “I didn’t kill him. What’s this have to do with me?”
Bree said, “Oscar’s mother was also killed. Did you see the news?”
“Can’t believe the media.” Dylan didn’t directly answer her question.
“You can easily verify the story,” Bree said.
Dylan cocked his head. “So why are you here?”
Had he known about Oscar’s death? Bree couldn’t tell. “We’re trying to solve Oscar’s murder. We’d like some information.”
“You have three minutes.” Dylan hooked a thumb in his belt.
“When did you last see Oscar?” Bree asked.
“I don’t recall the exact date,” he said in a snotty tone.
Bree swallowed her frustration. “How about an approximation? A month ago? A week? Last year?”
“A few weeks, but I wouldn’t testify to that. Everything I say can and will be used against me in a court of law, right?” Dylan asked.
Questioning cops was the worst. They knew every interview trap and how to avoid them. Dylan wasn’t the best liar, but he knew which subjects to evade.
“We’re not arresting you,” Bree said.
“You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t a suspect.” Dylan lifted one hand. “I’ll tell you right now. I didn’t kill him.”
Bree took a deep breath. “Do you remember Kenny McPherson?”
Dylan’s mouth tightened, the tiny reaction giving him away. He remembered Kenny all right. Then Dylan’s eyes shifted away for a split second, a clear indication he was going to lie, before steadying on Bree’s gaze again. “The name might sound a little familiar.”
“You and Oscar arrested him for drug possession.” Bree reminded him of the basic facts of the arrest. “Kenny went to prison.”
He shrugged. “Cops send people to prison. It’s their job.”
Bree changed course. “Oscar didn’t tell you Kenny was out of prison?” She waited. The silence dragged out for a few heartbeats, but Dylan didn’t answer.
She phrased her next question carefully. “Did Kenny have any reason to hold a grudge against Oscar?”
“You just told me that Oscar put him in jail, so I would think so.” Dylan tried to sound casual, but he couldn’t quite pull it off. “But you should ask him. I thought you were some kind of big-city detective. Did you get that job because you were a female too? The governor appointed you. Wait until you actually have to run for office. No one will actually vote for you.”
Bree didn’t let him change the subject. She got to the point. “Did you plant those drugs in Kenny’s car?”
Dylan’s posture snapped straight. “Fuck off.”
No denial. Lots of anger. So that’s a straight-up yes.
Matt shifted his weight, as if he’d also lost patience with the lies and evasion. “Did Kenny really shove Oscar? Or did Oscar make that up?”
Dylan said nothing. He just glared back at them, hatred simmering in his eyes.
“Oscar is dead, Dylan,” Matt said. “He can’t get into trouble.”
But Dylan can, thought Bree. Dylan had testified at Kenny’s trial. He’d knowingly sent a man to prison on fake charges. He could be prosecuted for perjury and falsifying evidence. Kenny said his lawyer was trying to establish a pattern with Dylan and Oscar. Kenny could sue in civil court. Dylan and Oscar had ruined his life.
“I won’t let you ruin his reputation or mine.” Dylan leaned forward, his chin jutting out, his chest puffed. He was trying to look arrogant and self-righteous, but it was all naked bluster.
Bree tossed out her final question. “What do you know about the Hudson Footmen?”
Dylan snapped, “If you don’t have a warrant, get the fuck off my property, both of you.”
“I’d like your contact information in case I have any more questions. Can I have your cell number?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Don’t have one. Why would I have a device that lets the government track my every move? Now get out of here and don’t come back or I’ll sue you for harassment.”
With no real options, Bree and Matt walked back to the SUV. On her way back, she caught a glimpse of movement in the window of the house. The silhouette was female. With daylight reflecting off the glass, Bree couldn’t make out her features. The figure backed away from the window.