Chapter Thirty-Three

"No, I will not calm down!"

Leah scoffed as her fingers rapidly moved around the keyboard. Though the commotion near the station's entrance sounded entertaining, she couldn't be distracted. Not when she had a report due by the next hour.

The argument continued, increasingly attracting the attention of more cops; most were amused, more than anything. Leah shook her head until her fingers came to a sudden stop.

Wait.

She drew in a breath.

She recognized that voice.

Leah turned her head, eyes widening as her suspicions were confirmed. There she was, the other woman in the Ricky Ricardo saga, Tia, going head-to-head with a patrol officer. More officers joined in to subdue the woman, but with no such luck.

What the—

Leah shot out of the chair. She grabbed a notepad and a pen before rushing towards the scene of the action.

"Don't!" she called out, catching her coworkers by surprise. Only one of them had their hands on the still struggling Tia, the arresting officer. "Don't book her yet," Leah implored, ignored the pleasantly surprised look on the other woman's face. "What's the issue?"

Most likely story: Tia did something she had no business doing, but Leah wanted to get some words out of the woman before she was booked in the system.

The cop didn't let go of Tia, but he did loosen his grip somewhat. He glanced at Tia, annoyed, and then at Leah. "She's disturbing the peace," he said in a sharp voice. "Came in here going on a tirade about how much she hates men."

Leah threaded a hand through her hair and sighed. Sounded about right. "Good morning," she then said to Tia. "So, we meet again."

Tia's face lit up. "Good morning," she greeted back, attempting to wave while in handcuffs. "And for the record, I did not go on a tirade. I know my tirades, and that wasn't one of them. I hate Vice, always giving me shit."

The cop rolled his eyes. "For the last time, this ain't Vice—"

Leah put up a hand, silencing the cop. She didn't want to be rude to her coworker, but no one wanted another altercation to break out, especially with Tia sporting a wide, shit-eating grin. Knowing that woman, she probably made a scene on purpose. "You can take them off," she told the man. "She's with me."

"Clearwater."

"She's with me," Leah repeated in a calm, unhurried voice. He should be grateful, her gaze told the cop, she was about to lower his blood pressure. "Don't worry about it, Esposito. I got her. You can take off the cuffs, and I'll handle the rest… including another arrest, if I had to," she added, giving Tia a pointed look.

Esposito wasn't too keen on the idea but ultimately followed through with the request. Tia eyed the man, amused, as he removed her restraints, and when she set free, she dramatically shook her hands. Before she could provide another remark, Leah informed her that their conversation was moving outside. Tia didn't complain.

Leah thanked Esposito once more and then took Tia outside, leading her to an area out of earshot of other cops but still on police grounds. "It would be in your best interests not to cause a scene when you enter a police station," she warned. She flipped through her notepad to an empty page. "What's up?"

Tia flashed the detective a bright smile before lighting up a cigarette. "I can't come here to say hi?" Her smile quickly dropped. "Okay. Fine… You know, I haven't had the easiest life or job. I've seen some shit, serious shit. But I gotta say, nothing tops being confronted by a boyfriend's wife and being told he's dead." She laughed it off when Leah's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, don't worry. I think we're friends now."

Leah ran the back of her hand across her forehead, relieved. This investigation didn't need any more relationship drama. "When did Maria tell you?" she asked.

"A few nights ago. I stopped by the place, looking for that sorry bastard, wanting to know what the hell was going on. I thought she was going to be out of the country for a while. That's what he told me."

"I think it's safe to say that he hasn't been honest with you."

"I know that," Tia said, frustrated. She then sucked her teeth, blinking away the barely-veiled hurt in her eyes. "And then, I checked out Instagram and saw that he was one of the victims of that murder out in Green Lawn." She swallowed, looking up at the detective, pleading for her to tell the truth. "It was hit, wasn't it?"

Leah cleared her throat. "We can't definitively—"

Tia brushed off the detective's words. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know how it goes." She took a long drag, cleared her throat, and asked, "Just bones?" She didn't wait for a response. "I knew another one shown on TV. Eric Stonehill."

Leah suppressed her excitement. Yes, finally. An Eric mention.

"You do?"

"Yeah, he used to come by Ricky's for poker night. What a guy. You know he wanted to be some rapper? Ha! He couldn't spit for shit."

Leah stifled a chuckle. "Any of his rhymes online?"

"Soundcloud." Tia snorted. "It's the only platform that would accept his so-called music. He was that bad. Anyway, yeah, he was there for those nights. A lot of money can be made and lost."

"Did he have any luck?"

Tia scoffed. "Fuck no."

Leah nodded as she jotted down the information. No luck meant Eric had lost money. Losing money would forever cause more problems. "When was the last time he attended the game?" she asked.

"A couple of weeks before Ricky disappeared. Or died, I guess. I usually participate, always as a dealer, but that night that sonuvabitch pushed me out the door, saying the game was private… Eric was there. His bodyguard. So were Tommy and that guy, Scarface?"

Leah raised an eyebrow. Gotta love a guy with a menacing nickname. "Scarface?"

"Apparently, he's obsessed with Tony Montana, even talks like him," Tia explained, somewhat amused. "Always got on Tommy's nerve—Tommy's Cuban. Tommy Mendoza or Mendez?" She waved it off. "Something like that."

"What about this Scarface-person?"

Tia gave a half-shrug. "Never cared enough to ask. He worked with Ricky. They all did—" She took a step forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. "I wanted to tell you this because I heard the news. Maria ain't gonna say shit to you, by the way. Not that I blame her. Her husband's name is all over the news. The moment whoever did this finds out…"

She ran a finger across her neck.

Leah gave a stiff nod. She didn't want that to happen to Maria; the investigation was already dealing with enough before. She eyed the other woman, puzzled by her composure. "And you're not concerned, as well?"

Because she had been and was currently dropping some serious bombs—Something certain facets of society wouldn't appreciate and would have no problem stopping.

"I'm fine," Tia insisted with her nose high in the air. She was quite confident in her declaration. "If he had told me, I would've talked to my people and settle this thing. But no, what do I know?" She gave a bitter laugh. "Well, for one thing, I'm still alive, and he's not."

"That was the lady who was giving Esposito a hard time?" Aisha asked, chuckling along with Jacob and Embry. "Poor guy. Did you know he was a traffic cop before Paul brought him along?" She shook her head. "The fool volunteered to be here."

Leah glanced at Esposito. He was currently at the fax machine, reading through an incoming fax, jumpy as ever. She had known the man before joining the unit, a real misfit allegedly incapable of directing downtown traffic. He was supposed to be in the Property Unit, as punishment for his last debacle, but he was here and seemingly thriving.

Apparently, Paul liked to collect misfit cops.

"Oh, come on, you can't tell me this isn't an entertaining unit," Jacob said with a wink, and then in a more serious voice, "So, Ricky's girlfriend, there's seem to be more to her than meets the eye."

"She's convinced that she could have resolved Ricky's problem if he had been honest with her," Leah said, skimming through her notes. Tia might be a character, but she had a plethora of information. Useful information. She just hoped Tia was as safe as she claimed; she'd late to lose her (like Riley). "She was very insistent about that."

Embry swiveled in his seat, finally facing the trio of detectives. "What does she do again?" he asked.

"Self-employed," Leah said, trying to be as modest as possible. Not that she needed to be shielded from sordid details. "She seeks affections from others for a fee and supposedly, an aspiring UV-dealer."

"Who's also not afraid of talking to the cops," Aisha added.

Jacob snorted. "Yeah, so was Lauren, then she got whacked."

"Yes, but Tia isn't Lauren," Leah argued. She might not know much about the woman, but Tia seemed to be significantly more street-smart than the deceased Lauren. But then again, many were. "I doubt she was bluffing."

"Anything from the wife?" Jacob asked.

"Maria fears for her life," Leah said. "Understandably so. We have enough people in witness protection, so using another route for more information would be preferable."

"Can she at least talk to us?"

"What about 'Maria fears for her life' don't you understand?" Leah said, admittedly harsher than intended. She didn't want to lash out at the younger cop; it was just everything about this investigation was so darn infuriating. She muttered an apology, and then added, "We don't need another dead witness."

"Leah's right," Aisha said. "Dead witnesses aren't' helpful in convictions, which is ultimately our goal." She turned to Leah. "Has Tia changed her mind about testifying?"

"Haven't asked her," Leah said, wishing she had done so earlier. But then again, Tia didn't seem like the kind to willingly testify during trial, where people could see her. Despite her insistence that she was safe, Tia would still want to be cautious. "I'll work on it," she then promised. "Her leads are strong."

"Ain't that the truth. She gave us two new people to like into: Tommy M-whatever and a guy named Scarface," Embry said, and then added with a snort, "Of course there's a guy named Scarface."

"Everyone needs a Scarface," Jacob joked briefly. He then sighed. "Alright, so according to Tia, Ricky occasionally hosted high-stakes poker games at his place. Eric generally attended said-games with his bodyguard with unknown others. However, we do know that Tommy Mendoza or Mendez and Scarface were present at the last one. Right?"

Leah nodded.

"I assume they had something pressing to discuss since Ricky kicked Tia out," Aisha said. Maybe the heist?"

"What do we have on Tommy?" Jacob asked.

"His last name is Mendez," Martinez said, joining the conversation at the right time. "A periodic member of the Fangs. From Houston but an Oak Park resident. Middle-aged, real quiet." He waved a lengthy rap sheet. "Also specialized in robberies, including one in Vegas. Last seen a week before the heist."

"Missing Persons' Report?" Aisha asked.

Martinez shook his head. "Would've brought on too much attention."

"So, his affiliations weren't a secret, then," Jacob surmised. He then took the pages out of Martinez's hand and skimmed through them. "It's a miracle he only served fifteen years... How do you only get five years for all of these robberies?"

"Good behavior?" Leah suggested.

"Either way," Martinez said. "It sounds like we got our Victim Number Five."

"And possibly, Victim Number Six," Aisha said. "That Scarface-fellow."

"I can't believe you agreed to it," Jacob laughed before shoving a forkful of steak and noodles into his mouth. He loudly swallowed food down, still laughing. "Were you bribed? Did you lose a bet? Are you in a bet?"

Leah rolled her eyes as she worked her chopsticks around her meal. Phở, she was convinced, a gift from the gods. Now, whether or not she was going to finish everything by the time her lunch break was over was another story. "Oh, shut up." She pointed a chopstick at her still laughing partner. "I'm never talking to you about my personal life ever again."

"Now, why would you make a promise you know you can't keep?" Jacob teased, and then said, trying to maintain a straight face, "I need a detailed, live account of this epic event. Emojis and all."

This was all her fault. She should've just kept her mouth shut and focus all her attention on the hot bowl of deliciousness in front of her.

Leah snorted. "Why, so you could share it with the rest of the pack?" She shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

Jacob placed a hand over his heart. "Now, why would I do such a thing?" he asked, dramatic. "Ride and die over here. I'm on your side."

"Oh my god, I hate you," Leah said, fooling no one. "Keep this up, Black, and I'll inform Rachel and Rebecca about your sudden desire to star in the Chicago, camera-less version for the Bachelor." Her mouth curved into a smirk. "With multiple seasons."

"But why you gotta go there?" Jacob asked, voice filled with exaggerated disappointment. "I'm trying to support you. Make sure everything works out Friday night. Instead of a thank you, I get threats." He shook his head. "I expect better from you, Clearwater."

"That's your fault," Leah said between bites. "Don't tell anyone, but I'm really doing this to get my mom off my back… and for the free dinner."

Jacob's whole face lit up. "Ha! I like the way you think."

"Free food is very important."

"You know, if all you wanted was the free food, you could've asked me. Then, you wouldn't have to worry about the awkwardness, the failed attempts to be charming and funny… the boring, inevitable lolls. Plus, it's not the end of the summer yet, so I still owe you a handful of steaks."

"You're sweet."

Jacob chuckled and then asked, "Who's the lucky man?" When Leah pulled up the picture of said-man on her phone, he nodded, seemingly approving of Sue's choice. "Not ugly, there's nothing like a well-tailored suit."

"The son of my mom's friend's sister," Leah said, glancing at the photo before placing her phone aside. Jacob was right; the guy wasn't ugly. Attractive, even—she'd give her mother that. "He's an investment banker who probably makes like three times my salary." She leaned forward, dropping her voice, "Honestly, do you see me with a banker?"

Jacob gave Leah a sharp look. "Don't you dare put yourself down like that," he said. "And he makes three times your salary? Damn, can I date him? I can make something work if he's willing to pay some bills." He quickly checked his phone. "Okay, let's see the average salary— Okay, that's not three times."

Leah rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"So, with that salary, he's taking you to a nice place, right? I expect five-star cuisine, and nothing less."

"I'm meeting him at—" Leah stopped herself before it was too late. She pointed an accusatory finger at the man across from her. "No, I'm not telling you a damn thing. Because with my luck, you, the pack, and Aisha, and Martinez and his wife would make a surprise appearance. Who knows what Embry and Jared would do? Probably film the damn thing."

"Oh, come on, it's not like we're going to crash your date," Jacob insisted, but nothing in his voice told Leah to take his word for it. "It's been a while since you took a dip in the dating pool. We just wanna make sure you're okay. That he's treating you right. That you're enjoying yourself…"

Leah narrowed her eyes. "So, you are crashing it."

"That's not what I said."

"It's heavily implied."

"So, does that mean you're not going to live text your date?"

"If anything goes wrong, you'll be the first to know."

Jacob grinned. "That's all I needed to hear," he said. "Now, about that five-star restaurant…"

No matter how many times Jacob asked, Leah wasn't going to tell him the location. She'd tell Sue, for safety reasons, but no, certainly not the man in front of her—Leah shook her head again before slurping up some of the spiced-beef broth. "Personally, I'm not a fan of fancy restaurants," she said, putting down the bowl. "They keep too much on the food. I want a meal, damn it. Not an appetizer."

"You know where you need to go? A Brazilian steakhouse. All you can eat meat. A little on the pricy side, but damn, it's worth it."

"Now, I know where I'm taking you for your birthday. Thank you for making that decision easier." Leah's grin matched Jacob's. "Just don't embarrass me. I'll be a dinner or whatever, not some goddamn food-eating contest."

"Hey, I resent that!"

"You'll live," Leah mumbled, chewing on her noodles and vegetables. She washed them down with tea. "Seriously, what is up with you and the guys? It's like you all forget you have teeth while you're inhaling your food."

"Okay, okay, don't need to exaggerate," Jacob said with a snort. "Like you're any better."

"I am because I know how to take bites," Leah clicked her teeth together for emphasis before chuckling that Jacob's unimpressed expression. She took another sip of her tea, and then asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious, "You think if I order, I don't know, two steaks, he'll be… weirded out?"

Jacob's face twisted in confusion. "Is that a serious question?" He then sighed. "If that's something you have to worry about, Clearwater, then he's not worth your time."

That wasn't the answer Leah wanted to yes. Her question was a simply yes-or-no one. "I'll have a snack before then," she said.

"You'll be fine," Jacob insisted, giving his partner a reassuring smile. "When is this epic moment happening?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Are you excited?"

Leah adverted her gaze. "I wouldn't say that…"

"Are you honestly doing this only for the free, potentially five-star-worthy, food?"

"Okay, now, you're making me sound shallow," Leah said. She wasn't, for the record. She liked the company, especially if the other person was physically appealing. The issue as that, "I'm not good at this first-date stuff. I was barely good at the romantic night outs while I was married. For eight years."

"To a cheating fool."

Leah sighed. "We didn't know that, then."

"Point." Jacob took a bite from his meal. "So, you're worried about messing it up?"

"I'm rusty as hell. I haven't been on a first date in more than a decade," Leah confessed. "Can you blame me?"

"No," Jacob said. He flashed her a lopsided grin. "But that's why you have to do the live chat. We can add Aisha, too, if you want. Always an insightful lady."

Leah narrowed her eyes. Jacob thought he was so slick. "The answer is still no."

"Oh, come on—"

"No." Leah liked to think her sharp tone would tell Jacob that she wasn't fucking around. Sadly, the bemused expression on his face told her otherwise. Shaking her head (more fondly than she'd like to admit), she wiped off the remaining broth from her mouth and added, "Hurry up. We have Victim Number Five to investigate."

"Yes, ma'am, and I know just where to begin."

"You know a guy named Scarface?"

"Like Tony Montana? From the movie?" Sean joked. When he caught sight of Leah's unimpressed look and Jacob's sharp glare, the man's demeanor slightly changed. "Okay, what's with the mean looks? I thought we go way back?" The comment was more directed at Jacob, who still wouldn't relent. "I may know someone who goes by that name… but who the hell doesn't? It's the most cliched nickname out there."

Jacob's glare hardened even more. "You're wasting our time, Sean."

"No need to make things difficult," Leah said in a softer voice, trying to ease the tension between the two other men. She wondered if something had happened following their last meet-up. Jacob hadn't been nearly as annoyed with Sean as he was now. "It's a simple question, Sean."

The man looked from one detective to the other. He dropped his cool-guy act altogether. "If it's the Scarface I think you're talking about, we may have done some runs together," he said, quickly adding, "Back in the day. I'm not about that life anymore?"

"You aren't?" Jacob challenged.

Sean gulped and shook his head. "Got a daughter, remember? Not trying to go back to jail." He cleared his throat and checked his surroundings as if fearing someone would show up. The coast was clear. "I haven't seen him since… I don't know? A month…" he trailed off as his eyes widened. "Oh, fuck. He was one of them, ain't?" When the detectives didn't respond, Sean shook his head and began pacing around the abandoned ball-pen. "Oh, fuck. Fuck. I knew this was all a bad idea. But no, let's rob a damn plane, they said. It'd make us all rich, they said. What was the worst that could happen? This shit."

Leah and Jacob exchanged a look as Sean carried on, dropping knowledge that neither detective had expected. Leah was the one to stop the other man. "Wait, you knew about the heist?"

Sean cleared his throat. "I may know something."

Jacob took a step forward. "And you didn't tell us?"

"No one asked," Sean replied with a nonchalant shrug. "Last time you two came along, all you asked was for information about that lady found in the landfill. I don't believe in giving out more information than needed."

"And now?" Leah wondered.

"Money talks." Sean's mouth curved into a smirk. "As always."

Grumbling under his breath, Jacob handed Sean another twenty. "How did Eric about the Volturi cargo?" he asked.

Sean pocketed the money while keeping his wary eyes on Jacob. "You didn't hear this from me, but I've been asking around about what happened at Midway, especially after hearing about what happened to Ricky and Eric. Didn't want to caught empty-handed, you know."

Leah saw through the man's bullshit. "You wanted information to sell."

"And?" Sean shrugged. "Nothing in this world's free. Anyway, I heard that Gianna, you know what chick from the landfill, was strapped for cash. I mean, she'd give you anything for some dough, including important information."

"We know," Leah said, crossing her arms.

"But did you know that she also indirectly worked with the Fangs for info?"

Leah lifted both eyebrows—No, she did not.

Jacob narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"If the rumors are true, then Gianna had it coming. You can't double-cross the most powerful coven in this half of the world without facing the consequences—The Fangs knew about the air cargo because of her, including the ones leaving Midway."

"You're fucking with us," Jacob accused.

Sean's expression was stoned-face. "No, I'm not."

Oh, boy.

Leah took a step forward. "Are you telling us that the Fangs knew about the Midway cargo from weeks ago thanks to a woman who's been dead for the past year-and-a-half?"

"The cargo arrangements were made several months, even a couple of years, in advance," Sean explained. "You can't just arrange international transport of illegal goods in a week? That shit needs planning and a fuck-ton of deals."

"Gianna Castellano had a very busy tenure at Napolitano's," Paul remarked later that afternoon. "If the rumors are true. Are they true? How do we know this source isn't fucking around with us?"

"He seems to be afraid of Jacob," Leah replied, giving her partner a wry smirk. He'd deny it until the end of the time that he managed to inject the fear of God into the Fang-associate—She made a mental note to ask her partner about it.

"I didn't do anything, I swear," Jacob insisted. "The info he provided us last time was proven correct. He can be a flaky guy, so we're going to have to corroborate his story."

"What we need is a search warrant for Napolitano's," Leah followed. "Namely Gianna's computer. Get her emails, etcetera."

"Which, if the Volturi were smart, all should've been destroyed a long time ago," Paul said. "But it doesn't hurt to try. However, let's not be the ones requesting a warrant. Black, said Cicero's looking into the Castellano case, as well, right?" Jacob nodded. "Good, I'll reach out to the Chief and see if he can help us out. After all, Napolitano's is in their jurisdiction, not ours."

"Sounds like a plan," Leah said.

Jacob agreed.

"What about Victim Number Five?" Paul asked. "Or that Scarface-guy?"

"According to a source, Scarface's real name is Antonio Montoya," Jacob said. "Embry and Jared are looking into his background as we speak. But we do know he is a runner, employed to settle a debt with Collin."

"Was," Leah corrected. "The way Sean made it sound, he assumed Montoya was one of the ditch victims. Hadn't seen him in over a month."

Jacob cleared his throat. "Prospective Victim Number Six."

Paul nodded. "Two more to go."

Author's Note: Unfortunately, I have not been able to keep up with my bi-monthly or so updates (I really was doing so well, sighs), and for that, I apologize. However, no matter how far in between these updates are, please be rest assured that this story will not be abandoned.

Thank you for everything, and I hope you and your loved ones are doing well during these tough times.