Walking Shadows. Faye Kellerman

you tell her?”

      “Baccus? Of course not. But I will call up Cindy after I get the death notification done. I just wanted to give you a heads-up about Baccus. She should be with you shortly.”

      “Did she tell you why she quit Philadelphia PD?”

      “Sexual harassment.”

      “Ah, c’mon! You can’t be serious!”

      “She’s beautiful, Harvard. I can completely believe it, but I’ll ask Cindy about it. At least, in Hamilton, no one is going to mess with the chief’s daughter.”

      “But it does show a certain lack of resilience.”

      “Yes, it does. She’s on her way. Be nice, Harvard. We need her on the team to get into Hamilton’s files.”

      “If I’m too nice, then she’ll think I’m coming on to her.”

      “Hmm, a valid point,” Decker admitted. “You’re right. Don’t be nice. Just be your usual obnoxious self.”

      JENNIFER NEIL IDENTIFIED her son, Brady, from one of the photographs taken by the police photographer, saving her the agony of coming down and seeing the body in person. She was five foot two and thin as a reed. A little thing with a weathered face, making her look older than her forty-nine years. Her thin lips could have passed for another crease in her wrinkled face. Blue wet eyes were rimmed in red. She wore baggy jeans and a Guns N’ Roses T-shirt with a concert tour dated twenty years ago.

      The woman looked utterly lost.

      “Do you have someone I can call to be with you?” When she didn’t answer, Decker said, “A relative or friend?”

      Slowly she shook her head. “When can I see him?”

      “You don’t have to see him, Mrs. Neil. It’s best to remember him as he was.” She didn’t speak. “Are you sure there’s no one I can call?”

      “No husband, if that’s what you mean.”

      “Do you have other children?”

      Her lip quivered. “A daughter. We don’t talk.” A pause. “I suppose I should call her.”

      “I can do that for you if you want me to.”

      She nodded.

      “What’s her name?”

      “Brandy.”

      Decker thought, Brandy and Brady. Or maybe it was Brady and Brandy. “How old is she?”

      “Thirty.”

      Brandy and Brady. Jennifer had been just nineteen when she had her first child. “Do you have a phone number?”

      “Gotta look it up. I don’t know if it’s current or not.” She left the living room. It was a small house, neat and clean but unadorned. The faux-leather furniture matched, the end tables were dusted, and the brown carpet was vacuumed though thin in some parts and stained in others. A moment later, Jennifer came back with a slip of paper and a number. Decker pocketed the paper and took out his notebook. “I know this is a horrible time to ask you questions, but it would be helpful if I knew a little bit about Brady.”

      She said nothing. Just wiped her eyes.

      “Brady was twenty-six?”

      “Yes.”

      “Did he live with you?”

      “Yes.”

      “Did Brady work or go to school?”

      “Both.”

      “Where is work and where is school?”

      “He worked at Bigstore in the electronics department.”

      “He’s good with computers?”

      “No idea.”

      Her apathy took Decker aback. “No idea?”

      “No. He was secretive about his life.”

      “Okay. Secretive as in …”

      “We just didn’t talk about anything personal. Truth be told, we hardly talked at all. He’s a single male in his twenties. We don’t have anything in common.”

      “Got it. Do you know how long he worked at Bigstore?”

      “About a couple of years. He must have gotten a promotion because Brady always had money.”

      “He had money?”

      “Always.”

      “What kind of money are we talking about?”

      “He had a car and all the gadgets—y’know, the Xbox and the iPhones and that kind of stuff. It kinda pissed me off that he had money for that shit and never offered to help out with the food and rent until I asked him for it.”

      Store managers didn’t make that kind of expendable money. The kid was probably dealing, and something stronger than weed. Opiates were an issue upstate. He said, “Did he give you money when you asked?”

      “Couple of hundred here and there.”

      “And he lived with you even though he had money?”

      “Maybe that’s why he had money. Anyway, I never bothered him and he never bothered me. He lived in the basement. It’s a big basement with two rooms and a bathroom. If he ever got his own place, I was gonna rent it out.” She bit her lip and wiped her eyes. “Guess that’s not a problem now.”

      “How did he behave with you?” When Jennifer looked confused, Decker said, “Was he rude or apathetic or physical—”

      “No, he never got physical with me even when he was out of control.”

      “Out of control?”

      “Typical teenage stuff—drinking, smoking marijuana, not going to school, not coming home at night. He still goes out at night on occasion, but in the morning, he’s sober enough to go to work.”

      “And you said he’s also in school?”

      “Night school. That’s what he told me. Maybe it’s true, maybe it’s not. The kid used to lie for the hell of it. Shades of his father.”

      “Did Brady ever have problems with the law?”

      “Not that I know of.” She looked at him. “Can’t you look that up?”

      “I did. No record as an adult, but juvenile records are sealed.”

      “He used to be truant. Couple of times, cops brought him back home. But then he dropped out of high school so truancy wasn’t a problem. He went through some low-paying jobs—fast-food counter, things like that—until he got a job at Bigstore. Like I said, it must pay well, because he has spare money.”

      Decker thought about Brady, working in the electronics department. He could also have been involved in warehouse theft. Working for a bigger ring and it caught up with him? Both sidelines—dealing and theft—were dangerous enough to explain his corpse.

      “And you don’t know where he went to college?”

      She continued talking. “A year ago, he said he was taking some classes at community college. Like I said, don’t know if that was true or not.”

      “Do you know if his money may have come from something other than a job?”

      “Wouldn’t know that, either. You mean like drug dealing?”

      “Do you think he was dealing drugs?”

      “I don’t know, Detective. When are you going to release the body?”

      “I’ll call you as soon as I know.” Decker waited a beat. “Do you know of anyone who’d want to hurt Brady or held a grudge against