Symphony of Bones L.T. Ryan (novels to read .TXT) 📖

like this? “We need to start at square one. If Lewis didn’t kill Grayson, then any supporting theories might be incorrect. It was a drug deal gone wrong, right? Are there other reasons someone would’ve wanted him dead?”

“Take your pick.” Mannis tossed a couple pieces of paper toward her. They were printouts of various headlines of which Grayson had been the subject. “He was causing trouble for his father’s political career. He’d gotten in trouble with the police a few times. His father paid them off, of course. Social media didn’t like that too much. He had a history of drug use and petty theft. It would surprise me more if he hadn’t pissed some people off over the last several years.”

“Okay, what does the evidence say?” Cassie asked. “Taking away anything related to Lewis, what are we left with?”

Mannis flipped back through his binder. “Police found him in the back of an alleyway, a few blocks from his abandoned car. Someone had shot him between the eyes. From the angle, we can tell the shooter was standing above him while Grayson was on his knees.” Mannis glanced at Cassie. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. “There were no defensive wounds and no sign of a struggle. Someone stole his wallet and keys. He didn’t have any other effects on him, including drugs, besides his phone.”

“No defensive wounds.” Cassie tapped her chin with her finger. “So, the shooter either surprised him at gunpoint, or he might’ve known who it was?”

“Both are plausible.”

“Stolen wallet. Stolen keys but didn’t take his car. Didn’t take his phone.”

“It’s easy to track,” Viotto offered. “They might not have wanted to risk it. Same with the car. They could steal it, but it’d only be a matter of time before local authorities found it.”

Cassie shook her head. “That’s why illegal body shops exist. They do it in Savannah. I’m sure they do it here, too.”

“Maybe the shooter didn’t have those kinds of connections.” Viotto sounded more contemplative than defensive. “Or didn’t have the time.”

“Someone busted the window,” Mannis said. “If it was the shooter, he must’ve done it before he’d gotten the keys. He could’ve been trying to get Grayson out of the car. Or it was someone else who noticed the abandoned car and tried their luck.”

“Either way, the alarm would’ve gone off.” Cassie shook her head. “It would’ve drawn attention. Unless—” her eyes lit up “—someone wanted it to look like a mugging?”

“Break the window, then use the keys to turn off the alarm.” Mannis nodded his approval. “It’s a possibility.”

“The car is important,” Viotto suggested. “If we can figure out whether Grayson had something the shooter wanted, we can figure out why he died. On the one hand, if the break-in was real, the shooter killed Grayson and got what he wanted. On the other, if the break-in wasn’t real or if someone else did it, then the shooter’s main objective was to kill the senator’s son.”

Mannis shrugged. “Unless Grayson saw the shooter’s face. He could’ve recognized him. Maybe the initial goal wasn’t to kill Grayson, but after that—”

“—he had no choice,” Viotto finished.

“We need to know the real reason someone killed Grayson,” Cassie said. She eyed the folders on the table but figured she didn’t have the clearance to look at all the details. “Whether it was drugs or political or something totally unrelated. Who did you guys interview?”

Viotto continued his laps around the room. “His father, Senator Grayson.”

“What was your read on him?”

“He was mostly in shock. His wife was in hysterics. Couldn’t even speak to us. The senator was calm.”

“Too calm?” Cassie asked.

Viotto shook his head. “He’s used to dealing with crisis. Plus, some people take longer to break down than others. He didn’t seem like he was dodging questions. He made us come back the next day before we could search Connor’s room, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, like it’d been moved around.”

There was a beat of silence while Cassie looked between the two agents. “That’s it? Just his father? You didn’t interview anyone else?”

“Didn’t need to.” Mannis’ voice was even, but his shoulders had squared up. “Later that night, we arrested Lewis.”

Cassie had no interest in picking a fight with either agent currently on her side. “Is there anyone else we can talk to? Preferably someone who might know Connor a little better than his parents?”

“We could track down some of his friends from school,” Mannis said. “His teachers might know who he hung out with.”

Viotto straightened. “His girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend.” Mannis turned to Cassie. “They had just broken up. The Senator didn’t know why, only that they’d been together for almost a year and then, one day, she just called it off.”

“Right before he died?” Cassie asked.

“We looked into her briefly, but she seems to be a good kid. Never got into any trouble. No record of her having trouble with Connor. She would’ve been our next stop on the list if we hadn’t found the gun that linked Lewis to the murder.”

Cassie didn’t get the impression that Mannis was a prideful man, but she was also painfully aware that he was the senior agent and therefore the one calling the shots. “Do you think she’s worth talking to now?”

He sat back in his chair and stroked his chin. “Yeah, I do. If nothing else, she can tell us how Connor was acting in the days leading up to his death. Was he depressed? Paranoid? Had he been doing a lot of drugs? Maybe he’d made plans to meet up with someone and she knew.”

Cassie stood. “I guess we know our next step, then.”

Mannis didn’t move. “I’m going to stay here and make some calls to Connor’s friends. Keep me informed, and I’ll relay the message to Davenport.”

Viotto narrowed his eyes. “You’re not usually one to sit behind a desk rather than do some fieldwork.”

“Davenport might not be trying to rush us back home, but he definitely wants us out of his hair. I