InSight

head. Nothing. Whoever drove him off the road got whatever Matt had with him and took a hell of a chance doing it. Traffic either way would have exposed him.”
    “I want you to listen to the disks Matt sent me. I think you’ll find them interesting.”
    “We’ll go to my house. I don’t want to bring this to the precinct until I hear what you have. Carlotta Gentry has cops on her payroll, and I’m not sure who they are. Even then, it’s not a done deal. When I get involved, I want solid evidence of wrongdoing. These are powerful people. I’m not going back to directing traffic.”
    Luke followed Norm’s unmarked car for about a mile. He pulled into the driveway of a two-story Georgian and kept going until he reached a small carriage house on the backside of the property.
    “Nice place,” Luke said.
    “Big house is my sister’s place. Been renting this since my last divorce.”
    Luke took in the small, expensively-furnished house. “Last divorce?”
    “Cops don’t make good husbands. Hard to close it off at the end of the day and come home like you’ve been at summer camp. Women get tired of the lonely nights. You married?”
    “Divorced. Just once.”
    “I’m off for the rest of the day. Good excuse for a beer.” Archer took a couple of longnecks from the refrigerator, handed one to Luke. “How’d you get involved in this mess anyway?”
    Luke recounted the story. “Sounds like a soap opera, doesn’t it?”
    “Sounds like destiny to me. You in love with this woman?”
    Luke hadn’t verbalized his feelings to anyone. Those around him might have guessed, especially Pete, but no one knew for sure. “Yeah, I am,” he admitted, surprised how easily it rolled off his tongue.
    “I remember the shooting. Even though it happened in Hub City , Stewart Gentry was a hometown boy. Shocked everyone around here. Killing your own kid, blinding your ex-wife. No one remembered Stewart as a potential murderer.”
    “I don’t think he was,” Luke said.
    “I knew him. My father and Stewart’s father were close friends. That’s another reason why this whole thing is a little tricky for me.”
    “So you’re the old Charleston money you talked about.”
    “Yup.”
    “Accounts for the watch,” Luke said, pointing at the Rolex.
    “Rolex or not, I’m still the black sheep. Like Stewart. Men with our family backgrounds aren’t groomed to be cops or artists. Sorry if that sounds snotty; it’s a fact. Stewart is an ugly chapter in Charleston ’s history. People around here prefer to believe he’s dead.”
    “Abby thought so. Her mother never told her the truth in an effort to protect her. Stewart’s showing up knocked her for a loop.”
    “I guess if your dead ex-husband suddenly turns up, being knocked for a loop is an understatement. I’ll listen to the disks, then we’ll go from there.”
    Luke relaxed into a modern leather chair ― some famous designer, he thought ― and read Field & Stream. P eeking over the top of the magazine, he watched Norm make a few notes on a pad as he listened, saw him grimace. Luke caught his wave when he finished.
    “We can discuss this over dinner,” Norm said. “I’m gonna take you for the best seafood you’ll ever put in your mouth. This is one time you’ll be glad you can’t hear. The place is noisy as hell.”
    Two hours later, Luke, stuffed with hushpuppies and crab cakes he’d devoured at Hyman’s Seafood, raised his beer glass to his lips. Norm confessed that from everything he’d heard on the recordings, he believed Luke’s theory. Proving it was something else, especially since it incriminated some of the most powerful people in the city.
    “The only witness, Valentina Kozov , won’t testify,” Norm said, downing his third beer. “She never referred to Graeme Collyer by name, and Carlotta Gentry’s name didn’t blip the radar screen. Kozov mentioned the offshoot Synthetec lab but said she’d deny knowledge of it, under oath. If we find her. That, my friend, is not good.” Norm wiped his mouth with his napkin and continued. “Furthermore, Scanlon’s name never came up. I’d need probable cause to pull him in, and I don’t have it. I doubt he’d talk anyway. Psychiatrists are like that. They’ve got everything figured out before they’re grilled.”
    The more Archer laid out the facts, the more depressed Luke felt. The cop was right. They didn’t have enough to build a case.
    “In addition,” Norm went on, “you can’t