CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kate was nursing another cup of coffee and waiting for her turn to speak with Davey Armstrong. She was sitting with DeMarco in the conference room that was serving as their temporary office, watching footage on a mounted television on the wall as the police chief sat down across the table from Davey in an adjacent holding cell. There was no formal interrogation room in the City of Roanoke Police Department, so Davey was currently in an informal holding cell.
From what Kate could tell, Davey was still not talking. She stared at his silent figure on the screen, trying to work it out in her head.
“You think it fits?” DeMarco asked.
“He has the history to suggest that there might be some sort of strain between him and the Langleys, but no. Those murders were grisly. If he ki
