Flash and Bones - Kathy Reichs [42]
I couldn’t argue with that.
“Did he give you the full story?”
“He told me you drank.”
“I did. But never on the job.”
“And that you went to jail.”
“I had that delight.”
“For accepting a bribe.”
“I was set up.”
“Of course.”
“You want to know what happened?”
I flipped a palm. Whatever.
“The week before my arrest, I’d busted a junkie name of Wiggler Coonts. Real fine citizen. The cops wanted me more than they wanted Wiggler, so they talked his lawyer into wearing a wire. The scumbag tracked me to a bar and started buying. I said some stupid things. No question. But it was textbook entrapment.”
“Doesn’t sound like a basis for a criminal conviction.”
“A wad of cash turned up in a storage bin in the basement of my condo complex.”
“Hardly incriminating.”
“It was my bin.”
“But not your wad.”
“Never saw it before.”
“You saying the cops planted it?”
“You saying they didn’t?”
“Why?”
“They were looking for cause to boot me.”
“Seems pretty extreme.”
“That was just part of it.”
Galimore crooked his right ankle onto his left knee. His tan slacks rode up to reveal one sockless calf.
“This came down while the Gamble-Lovette disappearances were topping the call sheet. There was a lot of pressure to clear the case. I was considered, shall we say, an impediment to swift closure.”
“Why was that?”
Galimore gestured at my sandwich. “How about we find something better than cheese. I’ll tell you all about it.”
My libido gave an immediate thumbs-up.
My neocortex took time to consider.
Slidell would go ballistic. Hawkins would sulk. Larabee would object.
But Galimore had been part of the Gamble-Lovette task force. It was possible he had useful information. Probable.
“I’ll meet you at Bad Daddy’s in twenty minutes,” I said.
“I can’t discuss the landfill John Doe.” I’d said it earlier but wanted to make myself clear.
Galimore was at the back of the restaurant, working on a sweaty glass of iced tea.
“Understood.”
I slid into the booth.
“What did you tell Skinny?”
“I do not clear my actions with Detective Slidell.” Sharp.
Galimore laughed and shook his head. “You’re as feisty as they say.”
“Thanks.”
A waitress appeared with menus and introduced herself as Ellen. “Fill-up?”
Galimore nodded.
To me, “Sweet tea?”
“Diet Coke, please.”
When Ellen returned with my drink, I ordered the Mama Ricotta burger. Galimore went for a make-your-own salad and chose a score of ingredients.
When Ellen withdrew, I decided to take control.
“Are you implying you were framed for refusing to go along with the task force conclusion on Cindi Gamble and Cale Lovette?”
“I’m not implying, I’m saying it straight out.”
“Why?”
“There were a number of reasons the cops wanted me out of the way. Yeah, I was drinking. And I’d made some enemies on the force. For a while I thought that was it. I believed the DA really bought in to the bribe thing. The tape was damned incriminating, then the money sealed it.”
Galimore’s eyes swept the room, came back to me.
“Jail’s not like prison. It’s a holding tank. Since there’s nothing to do, you spend a lot of time thinking. The more I thought, the more things started to bug me.”
“Things?”
“Loose ends that didn’t tie up.”
A couple of teens moved toward the booth beside ours. He wore a tank and basketball shorts that hung to his knees. She featured a floopy little skirt that struggled to cover her bum.
“The Gambles refused to accept that their daughter left on her own,” I said. “Are you saying they were right?”
“Maybe.”
“Did you share your doubts with them?”
“Wasn’t my place.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“In retrospect, I realize that the investigation left holes big enough for a Humvee.”
“Loose ends.”
Galimore nodded. “That summer, Cindi asked to have the locks changed at home. Her kid brother thought it was because she was afraid of Lovette.”
“What did you think?”
“I thought it was because she was afraid of something. When I shared this information with the FBI, they blew me off. For me, that doesn’t skew right. When you learn a missing