Page 2 of Off Limits Daddy
“No,” Oliver said through gritted teeth.
I turned my attention to Lindsay, who shook her head.
“What makes you think he was talking to the FBI?” I asked.
“Are you going to help us?” Oliver was about at the end of his rope with me.
“Rumors,” Lindsay said. “Oliver was told that the people he was hanging around during that time were suspicious of him. One specifically mentioned that he might have been talking to the FBI.”
Oliver glanced at Lindsay as if he didn’t like her revealing so much.
“Did they know why they suspected Liam?” I asked.
Oliver sat back in his chair, practically rolling his eyes in irritation. “Liam’s last foster family was apparently part of the same crew Liam was hanging around with. Wally Creighton was apparently stealing and then selling the social security numbers of his foster kids. Liam was likely one of them. I’m sure Liam was pissed to find out that Wally was the one who fucked up his credit.”
I tapped my fingers on the folder as I considered what Oliver shared. It was exactly what Liam had told me five years ago. “Why didn’t he go to the police?”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Oliver stood and paced the room, anger and frustration radiating off him. “You’re the fucking FBI. You know how identity theft works. No one gives a shit. The only reason to tell the police is to have the report sent to credit reporting agencies. No one investigates it. The Department of Social Services didn’t do anything. And clearly, you don’t either.” Oliver looked at Lindsay. “This was a waste of time, Linds. Let’s go.”
Lindsay looked at me with a pleading expression. She wanted me to help him. Deep down, I wanted to.
“What did you hope to gain by coming here?” I asked.
Oliver looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “We’ve told you twice. We want to know if Liam was working with you.”
“Why? What would it matter?”
“Jesus fuck.” Oliver turned away.
“It could be why he was murdered. His murder still isn’t solved,” Lindsay said.
“It is possible he was killed because he was involved with murderers.”
“Yes!” Oliver slapped his hands on the table. Lindsay flinched, but I didn’t. Oliver wasn’t the first frustrated and angry person I’d had to deal with. “They killed him to keep him quiet.”
“And what will knowing that bring you? Are you seeking closure, or something more?" I imagined they thought I was a bitch, and I suppose I was. But if I was going to look into this case, I had to have something to bring to my supervisor, and revenge or closure couldn’t be it.
“Why won’t you answer our question?” Oliver ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
"All you have is a rumor. Is there someone Liam confided in? Someone he trusted?”
“I don’t know.” Oliver shook his head, looking defeated.
"Perhaps you're not aware of all his activities," I suggested smoothly. "Has either of you considered the possibility that Liam was actively participating in something illegal?"
“Not in this,” Oliver insisted. “Liam was trying to do the right thing."
"By talking to the FBI?" I leaned in, studying Oliver intently. "Do you have any proof to back up this claim? Something beyond a rumor?" This was what I needed five years ago that Liam didn’t have. But the comment about someone thinking Oliver or Lindsay had something Liam gave them made me wonder if Liam had proof but hadn’t been able to get it to me.
"Proof?" Oliver hesitated. “No.” He turned to Lindsay. “Come on, Lindsay. Maybe we can talk to Donovan.”
“Who is Donovan?” I asked. I knew he wasn’t the detective assigned to Liam’s murder.
“What does it matter?” Oliver said with disdain.
“Isn’t Detective Riker the one investigating your brother’s murder?” I offered.
Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “How would you know that? Unless you were involved with my brother.”