JD answered with a dejected shake of his head.
Nick and Kelly left him sitting there. Kelly noticed a uniform lurking near the door as they exited, and Nick gave him a nod as they passed. Whether JD knew it or not, he was being held prisoner.
“You were blowing smoke up his ass, right?” Kelly said under his breath. “He’s your main suspect, isn’t he?”
“Pretty much,” Nick admitted. “He’s looking damn guilty.”
“That sucks. To commit a crime and not even remember why you did it?”
“Like Tijuana that one time.”
Nick and Kelly both shuddered with the shared memory.
Nick sat at his desk and turned his chair to glance back at the break room.
“Dude,” Hagan said. “I know in your mind he’s a puppy in a cardboard box with a ‘take me home’ sign around his neck, but you can’t fight the evidence building up here.”
“Did the prints come back yet?” Nick asked, sounding frustrated.
“Yeah. John Doe Number Alive didn’t hit anywhere. But John Doe Number Dead came up with a prior.” Hagan turned his computer screen around so Nick and Kelly could see it.
“Darragh O’Doyle,” Nick read under his breath.
“That sounds made up,” Kelly said. “Is that real?”
“He’s not local,” Hagan told them.
“Irish national?” Nick asked. Hagan nodded. “Known associates?”
“None listed. He got pinched last year but he never turned on his crew. Did six months, got out on good behavior, last record of him was that he’d headed back to Ireland.”
“Well he’s back now. So we have an Irish connection.”
Nick sat back in his chair, making a clicking sound with his teeth and tongue as he stared at the screen. “Let’s expand the fingerprints to international databases, see if we get a hit.”
Kelly cleared his throat, waiting until Hagan got up and left before leaning toward Nick. “Isn’t Julian Cross Irish?”
Nick nodded and pulled his phone from his back pocket.
“We need to talk to him.” He hit the speaker button and set his phone on the desk between them.
“Special Agent in Charge Garrett here.”
“Well, aren’t we fancy,” Kelly teased.
Nick shook his head. “Hey, Garrett, it’s O’Flaherty. And the Doc, obviously.”
“Oh God, what now? Are you in jail? Being held by the IRA? Stuck on a reef in the Caribbean?”
“Wow,” Kelly said. “That’s uncalled for.”
Zane laughed. “I thought being engaged to Ty gave me some extra snark privileges.”
“Hey!” Nick shouted. “Do I come running when you need help? Did I get shoved off the edge of a cliff for your ungrateful ass? Does my boat still have bullet holes in it?”
“It still floats,” Zane countered, a smirk obvious in his voice.
Nick grunted.
“Haven’t heard from you two in a while, what’s going on?”
Zane said, voice casual. Kelly had grown familiar enough with Zane to know he was taking care with his words, though. “You need to come to Baltimore, come see us.”
Kelly gave Nick a sideways glance to see how he’d react to that, but Nick was expressionless. “Sorry, babe, this isn’t a social cal . I need to know how to get in touch with Julian Cross.”
“Cross. Why?”
Nick made another clicking sound, refusing to answer.
“Never mind, I didn’t ask,” Zane said quickly. “I don’t know how to get in touch with him. I assume he just shows up when he smells blood.”
“How about Grady? You think he’d know?”
“Hell no. Ty spits nails when you mention Cross’s name.
He says Cross stole his kitties.”
“That’s what I figured,” Nick said with a sigh. “That’s why I called you.”
“Is it?” Zane asked pointedly.
Kelly tensed and couldn’t stop himself from glancing toward the framed photo of their team, Ty’s arm around Nick’s shoulders as they smiled. The state of Nick and Ty’s fracturing friendship was a topic only the bravest of men would touch on. Zane had balls of brass to do it.
Kelly cleared his throat and leaned closer to the phone.
“We figured with your Bureau contacts, you’d be the better source. Since Ty is all . . . wild card now.”
“Right,” Zane said wryly.
“You got a lead on Cross, or no?” Nick asked, his words more clipped than they had been.
“No. Want me to put out some feelers? Or get Ty on it? Please God, let me put Ty on it, he needs something to do besides remodeling that damn building.”
“No. Fuck no. I don’t want Cross to know I’m coming.”
“If you’re looking for him, he already knows.”
“Right. Hey, thanks Garrett. We’ll talk to you later.”
Nick ended the call and slammed his hand onto the desk.
“Damn it!”
“That mean Cross is a dead end?” Kelly asked gently.
“For now. Next thread.” Nick tapped the evidence photos of the books that had been recovered at the scene. “We follow your books.”
“My books? No. No, you’re not pinning those on me for when they go bust.” Nick smirked. Kelly snorted. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Come on, babe, it’s a treasure hunt,” Nick teased.
“You hope it’s a treasure hunt, or you’re going to look stupid.”
“You’re the special consultant.”
“You’re the detective who called in the special consultant.”
Nick glanced over Kelly’s shoulder, then stood and stole a quick kiss. “Come on. Let’s get some lunch before Hagan gets back and I have to buy his food.”
They didn’t even make it to the stairs before Hagan caught them trying to sneak out. “Fuck no, I get to interrogate the boyfriend, damn you,” Hagan called to them. He grabbed his coat off his chair, making it spin around and bang into the desk.
They stopped to wait for him. Nick was chuckling softly.
“I like your partner,” Kelly said quietly.
“Yeah, don’t tell him that though.”
Kelly nodded, but Nick’s eyes were straying to the break room, where the uniformed officer was still standing guard.
Kelly’s brow furrowed as he thought about JD sitting in there alone, his mind turning over everything he couldn’t remember. He knew Nick was thinking the same thing.