Chapter 10: Belladonna

"This one's unlocked," Sara whispered. She cracked open the door and peeked into a dimly lit back room of some store. Shelves and stacks of boxes provided ample hiding places.

She and Horatio entered silently. Sara led the way through the cramped space. She saw a crack of bright light, and made her way toward it.

The wall between the storage room and the main part of the small grocery was made from slabs of metal nailed together. There was a space of almost an inch between the slabs and the wall. Through it, she could see a middle-aged woman sitting at the register near the front door. The woman was reading a magazine, looking bored.

Horatio slid into the narrow space between the wall and a shelf. He was so close Sara could feel the heat of his body. "This is a good place to hear the neighborhood gossip," she breathed in a barely audible whisper.

A few minutes later, the bells hanging from the front door tinkled to announce a customer. The woman looked up from her magazine. "Hello, Hannah."

A young woman walked up to her. "Good morning, Inmaculada. I need to buy a gun," she said.

"A gun?"

"Yeah. Haven't you heard? Horatio Caine shot up the Dragon Rojo just a few minutes ago."

"Who is Horatio Caine?" Inmaculada inquired.

"He's a cop...he's the reason my brother is in prison. I can't believe he has the guts to show his face around here. I heard he's looking for Cinder. Can you believe it?"

"Well, I suggest you best keep yourself out of sight and out of trouble, young lady. Besides, I don't have any guns in just now."

"Okay, but if you see a red-haired guy who looks like a cop, give the Dragon Rojo a call."

"Okay. Take care."

Another customer entered after Hannah left.

"Just a bottle of water today, Ken?" Inmaculada asked pleasantly.

"Yes. I have a package to deliver to Lu. It's a long ride."

"Have you heard about that Caine fellow being in the neighborhood?"

"No. Caine who?"

"Horatio Caine. I just heard about it."

"That science cop? What's he doing around here?"

"I heard he was looking for Cinder."

"Cinder? Why?"

"I didn't hear."

"What would a cop want with Cinder? She never breaks the law...except for her job, I guess. If he arrests her, his life expectancy is going to drop so fast he'll think he's skydiving. Antiopa doesn't like people messing with her girls. If this Horatio comes in and tries to talk to you, don't tell him anything, okay?"

"Of course not."

Ken walked out, and Inmaculada went back to her reading.

Horatio had moved closer to Sara to get a better view. He noticed her face now, ghostly in the thin light. She was concentrating thoughtfully, her lips set in a slight frown. He respected her courage in coming back for him, and her quick thinking during the gun stand-off. His admiration for her was magnified when he considered what she'd been through.

He pulled his eyes away from her face, and tried to ignore how close he was to her.

The bells on the doors jangled again. A young man walked in. He was thin, with an olive complexion and frosted black hair.

"Hello, Sal," Inmaculada greeted him.

"Hi." He grabbed a pack of cigarettes, then looked at the candy. "How are you today?"

"Did you hear about that big-shot cop who shot up the Dragon Rojo today?"

"Horatio Caine. I heard. He just shot out a couple of lights, no one was hurt."

"I heard he's looking for Cinder. You should warn her."

"You know, Horatio Caine's not like other cops; he would never put someone in jail just because he can, and he never arrests anyone if he knows they didn't do anything, no matter who they are: prostitute, druggie, or what. My friend Anthony was arrested for a robbery because the cops found him outside the pawn shop and he was stoned, but Caine figured out he didn't do it and they let him go. I'm sure he just wants to ask Cinder some questions. If he asks you, go ahead and tell him where to find her."

"Okay, I'll do that."

"See you later."

Sara turned and came up against Horatio. "Let's go," she mouthed.

They slipped out the back door and circled around to the street, where they saw Sal lighting a cigarette as he walked away.

Sara sprinted up to him. "Excuse me," she said.

He looked up at her, eyes raised. "Hi."

"Hi. I'm sorry to bother you, but maybe you can help us."

Horatio joined her. "My name is Horatio Caine. We're looking for someone who may have information in a murder case. Cinder; do you know where we can find her?"

Sal glanced around quickly. "We can't talk here. There's a church on the corner down the street. Meet me there in five minutes."

Sara nodded. Sal darted across the street and slipped out of sight.

The church looked empty when they entered. Sara paused at the door. "Have you ever worked a case in a church?" she asked.

"Too many."

She stepped inside and spotted Sal leaning against the wall near the back. They joined him.

"Let me start by saying that Cinder is a whore. If you're going to arrest her, I'm not going to tell you where she is," Sal stated.

"We're not going to arrest her. It's not like we've arrested you yet," Sara said.

He blinked in surprise. "How did you..."

"I'm from Vegas," she stated in explanation.

"Okay. I can't tell you exactly where Cinder is, because she could be a lot of places. If you want to talk to her, talk to her pimp, Antiopa. You can find her at her nightclub, the Nightshade, at 2150 Coquina Street. But if she doesn't like you, you might not make it out."

"Thank you."

"No problem. You helped out a friend of mine once. If there were more cops like you, the city would be a better place." Sal took a few steps toward the door before turning back and saying, "but, if you don't mind, don't tell anyone you heard this from me."

"We won't."

Sal nodded and disappeared out the door.

Minutes later, the hummer drove up to the club. "I started hearing about Antiopa a year ago, from drug dealers we brought in this neighborhood. The rumor is that anyone who crosses her or threatens her business interests meets an untimely end, but we've never directly linked to her to a single body. She calls her club 'nightshade'. This is a woman who's trying to cultivate a certain image."

"And she named herself 'Antiopa'; that's the species name of the mourning cloak butterfly," Sara added. When Horatio glanced at her curiously, she said, "My...old boss is an entomologist. I...Anyway, I think she's trying too hard to sound dangerous. I'm not worried."

"Then let's go."

The club was nearly empty this early. A few patrons sat at tables or along the bar, but they were outnumbered by bartenders, waitresses, and a janitor. They looked up at the two newcomers with varying degrees of curiosity.

A large man, either a bouncer or a mugger, walked up to them.

"Sir, we're looking for Antiopa."

"Horatio Caine?" he asked.

"Yes I am," he confirmed.

He looked at Sara. "And you are?"

"She's with me."

The man accepted that with a nod. "Antiopa's expecting you."

He ushered them to a back room. As soon as they walked through the door, two men darted out, pinned Horatio and Sara to a wall, and frisked them, taking away their guns before letting them go.

The room was bare of furnishings except for a single chair and a small table, where a woman sat primly. Her hair, tightly contained in a French braid, at first looked blond in the poor light, but on closer inspection was grey. She had high cheekbones, a long, straight nose, and thick lips. Her face was intimidating and sultry, like she'd just been woken up too early, and was more than willing to kill someone. Her eyes, which had been downcast, snapped up at them.

"You're very stupid."

Horatio smiled at the floor. "Ma'am, we're not here to make any trouble for you; we just need to question one of your employees in connection with a murder case, and then we'll be on our way."

"Mr. Caine, you make trouble for everyone. It's your job. All I have to do is kill you and automatically half the people I know will owe me a favor. Give me one compelling reason why I shouldn't."

"I can give you two," he said.

"I'm waiting."

"First, if you do that, my people will find out what happened and you will get the death penalty. I don't believe that's the way you'd like to go out. Second, if you help me with my investigation, I will owe you a favor, and that is no small thing for someone in your business."

She contemplated him for a few seconds. "You can speak with Cinder for five minutes, then my men will escort you to the door and return your weapons, at which point you will leave and not come back. And, Mr. Caine, in future dealings you might want to keep in mind that I don't respond well to threats."

The two men who had taken their guns led Horatio and Sara upstairs to a small room with a cot, a couch, and a television. A young woman was sitting on the back of the couch, looking out the window. Thick, hematite-black hair draped over her shoulders. When they walked in, she turned around. "Is this him?" she asked nervously in an Australian accent.

"Horatio Caine," one of the muscular bouncers said. They waited at the open door.

Sara walked in and sat next to the young woman. "Hi. My name's Sara."

"I'm Cinder." She flashed a nervous, gap-toothed smile. Her large, dark eyes darted back and forth between the window and Sara's face.

"You have no idea why we're here, do you?"

"Honestly, no. I heard you were looking for me, but I don't remember doing anything wrong."

"You didn't," Sara assured her comfortingly. "But someone you met with might have."

Horatio sat down next to Sara. He leaned forward and gave Cinder the friendly, calming smile he used for children and frightened witnesses. "Cinder, someone had an appointment with you at 6 p.m. last Sunday. Do you remember who it was?"

"Sunday?" She took a deep breath. "I...met with a few people on Sunday. I didn't look at the clock, I don't remember who I...met with at six."

"That's alright," Sara said. "We know what you do for a living, and we're not here about that. Do you remember what the men looked like, or their names?"

"Not their names. One of them told me to call him David, but that's all. He was white, middle aged, kind of...he was fat, and had grey hair. The other man was younger, dark brown hair, maybe eighteen or twenty. He only spoke Spanish. There was a woman, white, maybe forty. She had blond hair, and she was wearing a wedding ring. That was all of my customers."

"Okay, did you see anyone else that day?"

"Just...the guy who runs the hotel, a delivery man who brought me a gift from my boyfriend, and the pizza boy."

"Cinder, I'm going to show you some pictures. Tell me if you recognize anyone, okay?"

"Okay."

Horatio showed her a picture of John Doe and Arsenio Petersen. She examined each, then shook her head. "I don't recognize them."

"Your time is up," one of the men said from the door.

As they exited the club into the muggy heat of early afternoon, Sara shook her head. "All that for a dead end."

"Miss Sidle, I don't believe in dead ends."

"None of her johns match the description of anyone in our case."

"Of anyone in our case yet," Horatio corrected her.