Page 19 of All He Takes
"Yeah--but come on, who wants to date a girl for her money?" Jimmy asked. "I mean, she was pretty hot, but that's all she had going for her."
"You're saying you broke up with her because, why?" Nicky asked, not getting it, but this guy definitely seemed like a shithead if she’d ever seen one.
"I'm saying I broke up with her because she was boring," Jimmy said. "We had nothing in common. I wanted to go to the movies; she wanted to go to some party. We never got to do anything fun. But I didn't know she was dead. Damn..."
Nicky wasn't buying it. Jimmy barely seemed to care, and he and Frankie had dated for reportedly over a year. Even if she was “boring,” would it kill him to shed a tear, or show any kind of remorse or care that she was dead? That in itself was enough for Nicky to look twice—a lack of empathy for others was a hallmark sign of a sociopath or psychopath, and Nicky felt damn sure that would fit the profile of the man she was hunting.
"Aren't you upset at all?" Nicky asked. "You dated for a long time, didn't you?"
"A little while, I guess," Jimmy said. "It was more serious for her than it was for me, I guess. Sorry if that makes me sound like a dick, but it is what it is."
Nicky exchanged a look with Ken. He nodded at her, and she knew what he was thinking. There was something wrong about Jimmy's reaction.
Nicky walked over and sat down on the arm of the couch, close to Jimmy.
"Look, Jimmy," she said. "I've been doing this job a long time, and I've learned that people are never as simple as they seem. Maybe you don't want to come across like a jerk, but the fact of the matter is, you're hiding something."
"I'm not hiding anything," Jimmy said, smiling. "I'm just saying that Frankie wasn't for me. I'm a simple guy. I like football, I like beer, and I like sex."
Ken snorted. "I'm sure you're a real catch."
Jimmy's face darkened. "What's that supposed to mean?"
But Nicky knew where this was going—Ken did this sometimes, got all rowdy with the male suspects, as it sometimes got them angry and got them to slip up. He could work that angle well, although it sometimes ended up getting more hostile.
"It means you're a shit, Jimmy," Ken said. "Francine was a nice girl, but you treated her like garbage. And now she's dead. What are we supposed to do with that information, Jimmy?"
"Huh?" He looked between them. "What the hell do you mean, man?"
Nicky glanced to her right. Through the kitchen window, in the backyard, she could see it:
A Hana Kuma car, parked at the back of the yard.
There it was.
Her jaw tight, she looked up at Jimmy, who wrung his hand along the back of his neck.
"We hear you own a Hana Kuma car, yes?" Nicky said. "We're looking for a vehicle just like that."
"Huh?" Jimmy went pale, and he moved aside, as if to block Nicky and Ken from seeing out the window in the back. "I don't have a car like that."
Nicky slipped off of the couch and walked over to the window. Jimmy stepped aside, shaking, and she looked out. There was no mistaking the car that was parked in the yard. It was a Hana Kuma car. The same model, the same color. The same rusted, dented doors and the same cracked windows.
"Then what's--"
Something crashed behind her, and Nicky whirled around to see Jimmy--making a run for the front door.
"Lyons!" Ken shouted, diving after Jimmy. He hit the man, and they both went tumbling to the floor. Jimmy struggled to get up, and Ken struggled to hold him down. On the couch, Nicky grabbed for the phone and dialed the local PD.
"We've got a 10-15," she said. "3313--"
Jimmy broke free from Ken, who fell over, and Jimmy ran for the back door. He grabbed the door handle, but something was stopping him from opening it.
"Jimmy Drake, this is the FBI!" Ken shouted. "You will not leave--"
Jimmy was fast, but Ken was faster. He caught Jimmy and tackled him to the floor, pinning him down and handcuffing him.
Jimmy struggled against Ken's weight, but Ken didn't budge an inch.
