SEAN FOUND WHITEY in the office on the other side of the two-way mirror overlooking Interview Room C. Whitey stood there, one foot planted on the seat of a torn leather chair, looking in at Dave and sipping coffee.
"You do the lineup?"
"Not yet," Whitey said.
Sean came up beside him. Dave was looking directly back at them, seemed almost to be locking eyes with Whitey as if he could see him. And, even weirder, Dave was smiling. It was a small smile, but it was there.
Sean said, "Feeling bad, huh?"
Whitey looked over at him. "I've felt better."
Sean nodded.
Whitey pointed his coffee cup at him. "You've got something. I can tell, prick. Give it up."
Sean wanted to draw it out a little longer, drive Whitey a little nuts with the waiting, but in the end he didn't have the heart.
"I got someone interesting who used to work at Looney Liquors."
Whitey placed his coffee cup on the table behind him and took his foot off the chair. "Who?"
"Ray Harris."
"Ray...?"
Sean felt his grin break wide across his face. "Brendan Harris's father, Sarge. And he's got a rap sheet."