Chapter 22

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Mike asked crisply.

“I run my own business. After last night…” He shrugged, admitting ruefully, “I slept in.”

“Lucky you. Why are you here?”

“Brody wanted me to ask if you could do something for him.”

Mike leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow lifted in question. “What?”

“Get Mr. Irwin’s rap sheet for him.”

“Did he say why?” Mike asked.

“No,” Sage replied.

Mike nodded. He suspected he knew why, anyway. Brody had died while trying to bring down a drug dealer. Irwin was a dealer. If the rap sheet listed any of Irwin’s known or suspected associates, anyone whose names Brody recognized from five years ago. Then what? Do a trade-off? I ask the prosecutor to work a plea bargain—a lighter sentence if Irwin can get proof about who shot Brody?

“Tell him I’ll think about it.”