“No.”
“You’ve never seen Brittani before today?”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about. Is that the girl in the park?”
“She’s the hooker you ‘rescued.’” Vargas made air quotes. “We both know that’s bull. Why don’t you just level with me, Stratton. She’s working for you, right?”
Jack had to laugh at that one. “Working for me? You think I’m a pimp?” He planted his feet and sat forward. “When do I do that? In between classes at Fairfield High?”
A smirk formed on Vargas’s lips. “I would believe that a whole lot more than your ‘I’m just a Good Samaritan trying to help’ act. Why else would you fight that guy in the park?”
“Look, I was walking across the park and I thought that guy was attacking that lady. If Stacy Shaw’s murder was a sexual assault that went bad, he could have been the guy who killed her.”
Vargas laughed hard—but it was a forced laugh, and he overdid it. “You thought he was ‘the real killer’?” Vargas made more air quotes. “Oh, that’s right. Your friend Jay Martin is really innocent.”
Jack felt frustration rise up inside him. That was the truth, but now that Vargas had said it aloud, Jack didn’t know that he’d have believed it either. “Jay didn’t kill Stacy Shaw. I think someone she worked with may have had something to do with it. I spoke with her coworkers—”
Vargas stuck his hand in Jack’s face. “Hold on, Miss Marple. Did you just say you spoke to someone at Stacy’s work?”
Jack snapped his mouth shut.
Vargas’s hand slammed down on the table. “I told you to stay the hell away from anyone who has anything to do with this. Are you trying to screw up my case? Are you trying to get your friend off?”
“No. He’s not my friend. But I know it wasn’t him wearing that jacket that night.”
“You’re saying Jay’s brother killed Stacy?”
“No, I didn’t say that. Two Point stole, or more likely found, her wallet, and then he tried to use her debit card at the ATM. But kill her? No. Tommy’s scrawny, and he messed up his wrist when he was a kid. I don’t think he’d be able to strangle her.”
Vargas’s eyes blazed. “How the hell did you know she was strangled?”
“I… When I was in the station, I overheard you and your boss discussing the ME’s report,” Jack admitted.
Vargas pulled back. His hard expression shifted into neutral. Like a poker player who had just received his hold card, he placed one hand casually on the table and relaxed onto his elbow. He drummed his fingers on the table and silently watched Jack.
Jack felt the tone in the room change. “Detective Vargas, let me explain. You don’t know me, and—”
Vargas lifted a hand and held his index finger to his lips. “You’re wrong about that, Stratton. I do know you. See, I go by facts. The fact is, you’re a bad seed. You’re friends with a murder suspect. That’s a fact. You visit him in prison and then conveniently find a body hidden in a pond. Fact. Now you tell me that you just happen to know a piece of information that hasn’t been made public. Last week you were almost arrested for fighting over some old lady’s stolen purse. What was the deal with that? Someone on your crew steals a purse but was going to keep it for himself? Officer Denby said you worked the guy over good. Broke his teeth out. I bet if Denby hadn’t caught you, you’d have kept the purse. Maybe that’s what happened with Stacy. Jay tried to steal her handbag but she didn’t want to give it up.”
“That’s total crap. I didn’t know that junkie. I got the bag back for the lady.”
“Do you know her?”
“She’s Victor Perez’s grandmother.”
“So you’re friends with Victor Perez, too?” Jack didn’t answer, and Vargas smiled without showing any teeth. “You keep good company, Stratton. Murderers, drug dealers, prostitutes. You’re a regular Boy Scout.” He got nose to nose with Jack. “And here’s another fact. You just lied to my face.”
“What? I haven’t lied.”
“I asked you twice if you knew Brittani. You said you’ve never seen her before. But Brittani said she knows you. She said you gave her some money last night. But when I pressed her on that, she closed her mouth and lawyered up.”
“That’s crazy. I never…”
Jack remembered the hungry prostitute in the Dolly Parton wig from the night before. The one he’d left two dollars on the bench for. She must be the same girl caught in the sting. “Wait a minute. She was wearing a wig when I saw her first. You know how prostitutes vary it up for different clients. The look today must be her daytime look, for businessmen. I saw her at night.”