Mean Woman Blues

But…” Isaac actively fought tears. “…here’s what’s sad. He says he knows I didn’t deserve to get shot, that anyone who could do that to me…”
    “But, wait. How did he know who did it?”
    “He knew. Even before the story started to come out on the news— about Errol, I mean. When I talked to him first, the only thing he’d heard was that somebody tried to whack me. There was no doubt in his mind who it was.”
    “Any doubt in yours?”
    “No.” Isaac answered as matter-of-factly as if he were telling her the time. He’d never had illusions about his father. “But I knew why he did it. Daniel didn’t even know about Terri and the show. He didn’t know about Mr. Right or anything. He just knew, that’s all.”
    Skip understood it. If she’d heard out of the clear blue that Isaac had been gunned down, she’d have known too. But for Daniel it was undoubtedly a breakthrough; she cordially hoped it was going to lead to something productive. “What did he say that you thought I’d be interested in?”
    “He asked for you. He said to tell you to come see him.”
    “You really think he has something to say?”
    “He sounded…”
    He paused so long Skip had to prompt him. “What?”
    “…like a completely different person.”
    When Skip and Abasolo had said their good-byes and walked down the hall to the elevator, Skip said, “You want to go with me, is that the idea?”
    “I heard somewhere you were a quick study.”
    They stepped into the elevator and, in keeping with elevator etiquette, remained quiet until they were alone again.
    “There’s the car over there. Isn’t there a song called ‘Angola Bound’?”
    “If there isn’t, there ought to be.” She headed toward the unmarked vehicle.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
    Seeing Abasolo, Daniel was visibly disappointed. Wouldn’t even look at him. “Who’s this?”
    “My good friend, Sergeant Adam Abasolo.”
    Daniel turned his gaze on the other man. “I know you. You testified in some of the cases.” Meaning the Jacomine cases.
    “That’s right.”
    “I asked for Langdon.”
    Abasolo raised an eyebrow, telling Skip it was her call. She needed him there in the worst kind of way. “Daniel, listen. If you have something important to tell me, I need a witness.”
    “Come on! You don’t need a witness— what the hell for?”
    “I have to tread lightly these days.”
    Unexpectedly, Daniel laughed, if you could call a derisive honk a laugh. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. You’re dirty now.”
    Skip winced before she could stop herself.
    “Or did you get set up?”
    “Yeah, I got set up.” She was aware that she was barking at him but not able to soften it. “You know anything about it?”
    He shook his head. “No. But I might know who does.” He sent a sneer Abasolo’s way. “The Testosterone Kid can stay. As long as he keeps his mouth shut.”
    She and Abasolo sat in the chairs the guards had provided for them. Daniel had somehow put up a mental curtain in the corner of the room occupied by Abasolo. Maybe it was something you learned to do in prison. He focused entirely on Skip, not holding back, and what she saw was an entirely new Daniel. She hadn’t seen him since his trial and had never really talked to him, only interrogated him. She remembered him as a fierce, angry fanatic, someone who wore a perpetual scowl, was probably paranoid. Some kind of crazy, at the very least. His hair was very short now; his face seemed rounder as a result. Calmer. If Skip had seen him on the street or in a bus station, she might have said he looked more confused than otherwise. In a sad sort of way. Like a child who’d had the kind of shock that makes him question everything he thought he understood. She suspected Daniel had been questioning things for quite some time.
    He said, “I’m sorry I wouldn’t see you when you came up last week. Maybe I could have stopped some of this shit.”
    “Did you know your father had become David Wright?”
    He shook his head. “Hell, no. Sure as hell didn’t.” He sounded outraged, though Skip couldn’t tell whether his fury was directed at what his father had done or the fact that he hadn’t told Daniel about it.
    “Then probably you couldn’t have helped,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
    Daniel fumbled in a pocket found a cigarette, lit it and stared past Skip and Abasolo into the depths of the prison. “I do know
some
things.”
    Skip felt her stomach jump.
    “How’s my