Page 21 of All He Takes
"I don't have any photos!" Jimmy protested. "I don't know anything about any photos, I swear!"
"Well, we'll have to see about that," Nicky said, and she turned away. As she walked back to the house, she watched as the officers began to take apart the car. She had no time to waste on Jimmy. Not if she wanted to get to the bottom of this case before her time ran out.
Maybe Ken had better luck with the search inside the house. Nicky went in through the back door, where she was met with Jimmy's messy kitchen. The kitchen reeked of rotten food and uncleanliness, with the distinct scent of stale smoke and unwashed dishes. It was a mess, with dirty utensils strewn across the countertops, mounds of crumbs collecting on the floor, and smudges of grease and grime covering nearly every surface. Nicky grimaced as she stepped inside, wrinkling her nose at the overwhelming smell of dirt and decay. A few officers moved past her, and Nicky spotted Ken directing two more of them in the living room.
She stepped into the living room, where she spotted an officer kneeling beside a bookshelf. Nicky walked closer, and when she passed him, she saw the bottom of the bookshelf was lined with old photos. But they weren't Polaroids; they were just prints.
"Hey, be careful with those." Ken approached them. "Those are evidence."
"I am being careful," the officer said. "But it doesn't seem like any of these photos have anything to do with the ones we're looking for."
"Maybe not, but if we find one that we need, it could have fingerprints," Ken said. "And maybe a date stamp. You never know."
"So, I can take these?" the officer asked.
"Yes," Ken said. "Just be careful with them. They're important."
The officer tucked the photos into a folder, and he stood up. He moved away from the bookshelf, and Nicky went to look at the shelf where he had been kneeling. It was filled with old photos, some of them falling to the floor and collecting in a pile. They were all from Jimmy's family, from Christmas, birthdays, and other family get-togethers. There were photos of Jimmy's parents, his brothers, his grandparents. Even photos of Jimmy himself, as a young child, and then as a young teen. Nicky couldn't imagine him ever being young and innocent.
Ken finally noticed Nicky and looked over. "Hey, you're here."
"What did you find?" she asked.
"A lot of stuff," Ken said. "But nothing about the murders yet."
"Those aren't Polaroid pictures," Nicky noticed.
"No." Ken put his hands in his pockets and looked around the room. "And they're not incriminating either. I think they're from old family albums."
Even still, an affinity for photographs could make him a more desirable suspect.
"I found bricks of what I think is cocaine in his trunk," Nicky said, "but no photos, no Polaroid pictures."
"Damn," Ken said. "Guess that's what he was afraid of us finding."
"Yeah," Nicky muttered.
None of this was enough to one hundred percent pin these murders on Jimmy. But it was more than enough to bring him in for questioning.
***
The interrogation room was a small, windowless space with harsh florescent lighting. Nicky and Ken sat at a long table across from Jimmy, who sat in a metal chair with his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the floor. The walls were bare, and the air felt tense and heavy with suspicion.
Jimmy slumped, defeated, in the chair, and he'd barely spoken more than one-word answers since they got into the interrogation room.
"You might as well start being honest with us, Jimmy," Nicky said, losing her patience. "You knew Frankie. You have the same car we're looking for. And we already found pounds of cocaine in your trunk."
"I didn't kill anyone," he said, "and I didn't take any pictures."
"Then what were you doing with the car?" Nicky asked.
"I'm not gonna talk about that," he said. "I don't want to go back to jail."
Nicky sighed and she leaned forward, putting her hands on the table. "You know what, Jimmy? I'll make a deal with you. You tell me what I want to know, and I'll make sure you're out of here."
"You won't find anything in that car," he said. "I'm telling you; I don't have any pictures."
"Did you take them to other antique stores?" Nicky asked, hoping that the curveball might make him react. But he didn't. He kept sulking.
