Chapter Thirty-Six

"I'm warning you: I have no idea what I'm doing," Leah informed a certain canine, currently sprawled across her mother's living room floor as she scrolled through her phone in search of a crash course in becoming a masseuse. For a wolf. "I should not and will not be responsible for any injury I may cause."

Jacob let out a distressed whimper.

Leah glanced at her partner and sighed.

She was semi-tempted to call Kim and pay her whatever, but the vet was in New Orleans and was not be to be disturbed unless for a dire emergency. And although Jacob was in pain, he was only suffering from a serious muscle pull, not a near-death situation, so…Leah could handle this.

It was a goddamn massage, for goodness' sake, not actual brain surgery.

Leah took a deep breath and continued her search. And as expected, there wasn't much on wolf-related massages, so she went for the next best thing: dogs.

Moments later, after skimming the website page and gathering enough confidence to believe that, no, she wouldn't kill her partner, she tossed her phone aside. She then locked her hands and pushed them out. "Okay, let's do this," she said with a loud clap.

Jacob made a sound of approval.

She would quickly find out that providing comfort to an oversized wolf was significantly harder and more strenuous than on a human. But Jacob insisted that he would heal faster if he were in wolf-form… which was true, unfortunately, in this case. So, Leah would just have to deal.

"You need to see a damn professional," Leah mumbled as she turned her attention the area around the wolf's spine. She shook her head as she recalled the events from a half an hour ago when Jacob had somehow managed to pull his back as he emerged from the car—

In her professional opinion, the man had injured himself well before that. Most likely, during the apprehension of a very uncooperative Velasquez cartel-linked hitman; though accompanied by Martinez, Jacob had done most of the muscle-work.

Leah moved up the wolf's back, stopping at the shoulders. Checking on Jacob, she figured she couldn't be doing that bad of a job. Jacob had visibly relaxed; his pained groans had reduced to low murmurs. His tail was no longer stiff.

Oh, thank goodness. That meant she wasn't causing any discomfort.

She carried on, now focusing on the back of his neck. A spot she knew from experience that always seemed to bring him relief (or calm him down)—

Jacob's form suddenly tensed. Taken aback, Leah looked up and then loudly groaned. Of course. This was just her luck that standing in the opening between the front door and the living her was Sue Clearwater just staring at the other occupants, jaw dropped, and groceries almost slipping out of her hands.

Oh.

Leah tried to think of a lie, but one second in, she gave in. A ten plus foot long wolf was lying on her mother's living room floor—what kind of lie could she have come up with?

She gulped. "It's not what it looks like."

At least Jacob wasn't freaking out? Small favors, she supposed.

Without moving her gaze, Sue slowly placed the bags on the floor. "So…" she trailed off as her eyes widened in recognition. "Is that… who I think it is?" She took a few steps forward. "Jacob?"

Leah looked at her partner. Yeah, the eyes definitely gave him away. "I'm afraid so," she said, resuming her ministration, but this time only using her hands, not her elbows. She checked on her partner's face; he seemed fine. Tense, but not nearly as before. He was probably just as shocked by the turn of events as Leah was.

"So, that's what they look like…" Sue breathed, bringing a hand to her chest. "Goodness, how massive..." She looked down at her daughter, at the wolf, and then back at Leah. She swallowed a couple of times. "Does he know it's me?"

"Of course," Leah said, glancing at her eyes. His gaze was locked on Sue, but it was soft, nowhere near the vicinity of threatening. "He wouldn't be like this if he didn't."

Sue's shock was soon replaced by curiosity and awe. She reached out her hand but withdrew it. She glanced at her daughter and swallowed. "Can I…?"

"It's fine," Leah insisted. She took her mother's hand and gently placed it on Jacob's pelt. "You can move in circles. That seems to do the trick."

Jacob was definitely not complaining.

"What happened?"

"Pulled his back," Leah said. "We heal faster in wolf-form."

Sue slowly nodded as she moved her hands in a circular motion. She was still bit apprehensive, understandably so, but once Jacob closed his eyes and dropped his shoulders, she relaxed as well.

Leah smiled. "He likes you."

Sue let out a nervous laugh. "I think it's only because you're right here," she remarked. She froze when Jacob moved. It wasn't anything alarming, but Sue stopped her ministrations.

"Don't worry," Leah said with an assuring smile. "He's enjoying it."

Sometime later, Leah grabbed the plastic bag containing Jacob's clothes and led him into the closest room (the first-floor bathroom was not going to work). She left Jacob to his own devices as he phased back to being on two feet and got dressed.

Sue was still standing in the living room when her daughter appeared. She looked nervous, but not scared. "Was I not supposed to…?"

"It's fine," Leah said with a small wave. "Seriously."

Sue slowly nodded, glancing at the closed door to the guest room. She cleared her throat before a grin graced her features. "That was cool," she said. "Let me know when you can do that, will you?" She blinked. "Can you…do that?"

"Only done it a couple of times," Leah said. "I don't nearly have the control he has."

"I suppose that comes with years of experience," Sue said. "You don't even have a year…." Sue clapped. "Well, I'll be in the kitchen." She gave her daughter a pointed look. "Cooking dinner."

Leah nodded, catching onto her mother's comment. It seemed that her partner wasn't going to be leaving this residence anytime soon. Lowly chuckling to herself, she went to check up on said-partner.

Leah softly closed the door behind her and walked further inside until she was standing a couple of feet in front of Jacob. "I'm so sorry," she said before the man could say a word. "I know how much you wanted to keep this, you know, private, and I should've noticed…"

Jacob pointed a thumb at his chest. "Do you see me complaining?"

Leah crossed her arms. Of course, he would say something like that. "No, because you're nice," she replied as if that specific trait was a bad thing.

"I wouldn't say that…" Jacob trailed off with a sheepish laugh, rubbing the neck of his neck. He eventually dropped his arm. "Leah, don't worry about it. Really. The look on your mom's face made my day… It's all good."

Leah searched her partner's face for a lie. When she couldn't find any, she dropped her arms and lifted both shoulders as she sighed in relief. "Are you feeling better?" she asked, remembering why they were in this predicament in the first place.

"Much better," Jacob insisted, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his arms. Then, as he rubbed his hands together, he looked around the room, pointedly at the half-opened window. "So, what's the best way to get outta here without it being weird?"

Leah lifted an eyebrow. "Outta here?" She scoffed at the absurdity of Jacob's question. "Oh no, Detective, you have to stay for dinner. My mom isn't going to let you leave without feeding you—And before you ask: Yes, I saw you glancing at the window. And no, you cannot escape through it."

"Ah, man." Jacob feigned disappointment, but his act was soon replaced by a hearty laugh. "I was thinking about it until you said dinner. Oh c'mon, Clearwater, have you met me? Now, why would I ever say no to free food?"

"Because my mother might've been an interrogator in her past life," Leah said. And she was dead serious. "Be prepared for anything and everything. I swear that woman can talk a stranger into providing their social security number and access to their bank account, including the off-shore ones."

Thank goodness, Sue didn't use her talents for criminal activity.

Jacob seemed to be looking forward to the prospect rather than being concerned. "Thanks for the heads up," he said with a wink.

Leah shook her head, pitying her partner, who clearly had no idea what he was about to endure in. She took a step forward and looked up at Jacob. "You're really good?"

Jacob grinned before walking back-first towards the room door. "My back no longer hurts, and I'm about to get fed while being interrogated?" He opened the door and gestured Leah to exit before him. "Of course, I'm good."

"Are we legally allowed to use a non-law enforcement official during questioning of pain-in-the-ass suspects?" Jacob asked in lieu of a greeting as Leah entered the car. "Or would Paul shut that all down?"

Leah laughed at the seriousness of Jacob's tone. "I warned you," she sang as she put on her seat belt. She glanced at the car's digital clock. 6:51 am—the start of another workday. "But you wouldn't listen to me. And now, my mom knows about your fears, the history of the Black family, including the unsavory details, and your lack of love life—Speaking of which…." She narrowed her eyes. "When were you going to tell me about this wedding date? How did my mom find out before I did?"

Jacob put the gear in drive and checked his mirrors before driving away from the curb. "You both found out at the same time," he pointed out. "And it's not what you think. Trust me."

"I don't know if I can anymore." Leah crossed her arms, lifting her chin in the air. "It seems that you only tell your deepest, darkest secrets when my mom is around."

"And I'm supposed to be the dramatic one," Jacob scoffed, fondly shaking his head. "Look, it's nothing. She's just a plus-one. Apparently."

"Apparently?" Leah let out a melodramatic gasp. "After all of this time and what we've been through, you didn't have the decency to ask me first?" She grabbed her chest and tried to force some tears—she was not successful. "I am hurt. You hear me, hurt."

It was supposed to be a joke, but Jacob wasn't laughing. Instead, his eyes widened, and his jaw dropped as if a deer just galloped in front of the car. "No, no… Oh, god, no." He feverishly shook his head. "That's the last thing we both need."

Leah raised an eyebrow, confused by Jacob's reaction, but then shook it off. "Oh, come on, your family likes me. Collin hasn't put a hit on my head, so that has to mean something."

That seemed to take Jacob out of his fearful stupid. He rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure it's because he doesn't want to get in trouble for offing a cop," he said with a snort. "And anyway, he's on the wrong side of the family. It's a wedding from my mother's side."

"Ah." Leah nodded. "You can't have a plus-zero? I mean, sure you'll hear some rumblings, but it's not that big of a deal."

"I'm doing Rachel's friend a favor," Jacob stressed as if it was the most important thing in the world to stress the fact to the woman sitting next to him. And before Leah could ask, he added, "It's a long story."

A story Leah planned to extract out of her partner at the right time. "Is she at least cute?" she asked.

"Actually, she is."

"Then cheer up, Black. If you play your cards right, maybe you'll get lucky." Leah tapped the man's shoulder a couple of times. Her mouth then curved into a smirk. "You know, Embry and Jared are having a bet. If you don't get it on by the end of this month, I have to fork up fifty bucks—No pressure. Oh, but your immediate supervisor is also in on it, so…"

"I can't—" Jacob pressed his forehead against the steering wheel. "I need a new pack," he groaned.

"No, you don't," Leah said once her laugher died down. "Remember: you brought Paul and I back from the near-dead, so obviously you can't live without us. You need Quill because even I had to admit that he's the most rational member of the group, Embry is the loveable little brother you wished you always had and Jared… he's coming along very quickly."

Jacob lifted his head to give his partner an incredulous look. "Are you guys really running a bet about when I'm getting laid?"

Leah blinked—she had never thought of it that way. Embry and Jared, in a shocking turn of events, made the bet sound a lot less like that.

"That's the thing I'm learning about being a member of a pack. We are way too involved in each other's lie." She grimaced; there were just some things about the rest of the wolves she just didn't need to know. She let out a short laugh. "Hey, it was you or me, and apparently, my threats hold more weight than yours."

"It's the glares," Jacob maintained. He breathed a sigh of relief when the light finally turned green. "You're terrifyingly good at that."

So, Leah had been told.

"Well, whatever it is, do something. I refuse to lose my post-payday nail manicure money because of your lack of a sex life. If this wedding date doesn't work out, then I'm going to use drastic, completely legal measures."

Jacob shook his head, most likely out of disbelief. "Are you seriously stooping this low for fifty bucks?"

"Have you seen my cuticles?" Leah looked down at her nails; they looked okay. "I need a professional to tend to them every two weeks… Also, you are a dear friend. Friends help friends get laid. Money or no money involved."

Jacob chuckled. "What would I do without you, Leah?"

"That is an excellent question," Leah squeezed Jacob's free hand and smiled softly when his gaze met hers. "Just try it. See how it goes, Jacob. Hey, all bets aside, you never know… she could be the person you've been looking for all along."

"Now, you sound like my sisters."

Leah's smile turned into a playful smirk. "Of course, I do. Great minds think alike."

"I miss simple homicides with simple motives, simple suspects. Cases where we didn't uncover conspiracies at every turn... Exciting for a TV show, but a pain in my ass in real life—Now, let me get this straight: are you telling me that Gianna Castellano, the so-called Volturi secretary, and Demetri's maybe-main chick, was not only feeding information to the Olympic coven but also Jacob's family?"

Leah glanced at her partner as she dumped a couple of sugar packets into her first cup of coffee of the day. Jacob's blood affiliation with the Fangs was a running joke in this unit; most people were smart enough to take things to another, unnecessary level.

"They're not all related to me," Jacob reminded the captain. He then shrugged. "But yeah, that's basically what we're saying."

Paul shifted his gaze from Jacob to Leah and then back. He shook his head, running his hand over his head as he paced around cramped desks. He eventually stopped and demanded, "Explain."

Leah cleared her throat and gave her captain what he wanted, "Rumor has it that Gianna was privy to information regarding Volturi's transport of nationwide and international contraband, particularly to Italy. The Volturi has a stronghold in Volterra, Italy, so we can assume that was the stolen goods' intended destination."

Jacob followed up with, "We believe she was the one who told the Fangs about Midway. We have text messages stating as such."

Paul's brows drew together. "Hold on. Midway just happened like a month ago. Gianna has been dead for over a year and a half. How is any of this possible?"

"Illegal transport at this level takes planning," Leah explained. "Planning takes time. The source made it sound like the reservations were made a year or two in advance."

"That girl had a fucking death wish," Jacob said. He then pulled out a copy of the text transcripts. "Check it out. You can thank Embry for that evidence."

As on cue, Embry appeared with a wide, proud grin on his face. He pulled up a chair next to Leah and sat down, leaning back with his hands folded behind his head. He must've expected a declaration of congratulations from the captain—Paul didn't exactly give one.

"I'm glad you're doing your job," the captain said, knowing full and well Embry would react. And as expected, Embry threw up his hands and whined about the lack of disrespectful. Paul brushed off the younger cop's complaints. "This is good," he admitted. "Real good… but I'd like to remind you that we're not the Bureau. What happened at Midway is their problem, their case. We're only concerned about the Green Lawn Ditch murders…"

Leah was afraid Paul was going to say that. "Which was a by-product of the Midway Heist," she argued.

"Yes. But I don't need to know how the heist happened. I need to know how those fools were found out and how the hell their bones ended up in a ditch. People like Jackie Chan isn't our problem."

"But he is," Jacob insisted. "He used to work at Napolitano's. If you remember, that's where Gianna used to work at. A company everyone knows is a front for the Volturi."

"Let the feds handle Jackie Chan."

Leah took a sip of her coffee and asked, "What about Alicia Rivera?"

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"The baggage handler at Midway. According to a source, she was in the plot, as well. Now, before you give her the Jackie Chan-treatment, hear me out. Her brother, actually her cousin, is Sancho Alvarez."

Paul blinked. "Sancho Alvarez? I know you're not talking about the…" He tossed his head back and groaned. "Shit. Wait. That doesn't make sense. I thought he vowed to keep his ass out of the US?"

"Promises are meant to be broken," Jacob said. "Sancho is a hitman, working for the Velasquez Cartel. He also has ties to Jasper Whitlock, now known as Hale. The other Sicario. I mean, if I were gonna knock off some wolves, I'd get the best."

"Felix's not best?" Embry wondered.

"Felix has boundaries, believe it or not," Leah said. "I hear he has a strict-no-child-killing policy. Though, based on what happened to Vasili, that code does not translate to vampires."

"Vasili wasn't supposed to exist, remember?" Paul remarked with a snort. "Okay, I'll check with the feds. See if they have anything on Sancho. I'm sure they'll be just as surprised to find out that he's been in this country as of 2018. I'll check with Border Control, too… if the man's smart and our federal agencies are competent enough, he would've snuck into the country using a damn good alias."

"And Alicia Rivera?"

"Let's have a chat with her," Paul told Leah. "But be subtle about it, please. Midway's execs are still pissed off about constant federal presence. Yes, I know it's because of the heist, but the big bosses fear that everyone will use exclusively use O'Hare." He waved it off, rolling his eyes. "Corporate problems—Anything else?"

"The Dahlia case," Embry said. "If you read further, Boss, you'll see something even more interesting than this Midway-crap."

"If you check the last couple of pages," Leah said. "You'll see that, according to the text messages we have obtained from a burner phone, Gianna had arranged the execution of Jessica Stanley due to a romantic rivalry. They were both intimately involved with Demetri Karlov."

Paul read the texts and frowned. "What did they see in him?"

Embry shook his head. "Thoughts, exactly, Boss."

"We know that Demetri delivered the fatal bite, so both him and Gianna conspired to kill Jessica," Jacob said. "What is up the in the air is how the victim was dismembered. The ME's are adamant that only someone with a medical background or experience in butchery could have made those precise cuts."

"I don't understand," Paul said. "Why cut her up? She was already dead."

"It may have been an attempt to throw us off," Embry suggested. "To put the blame on solely the Cullens, as well. Unfortunately, we have yet to find concrete links between that family and these particular murders."

"Besides motive," Jacob added with a shrug.

"We're looking into Sancho Alvarez," Leah informed the captain. "He has a medical background. Plus, overkill is one of his many disturbing talents. Give him the right price, and he'd do anything."

Paul handed the text messages back to Jacob and crossed his arms. "So, there's nothing on the Cullens? Are you seriously telling me that after all of this time, they were innocent all along?"

"Absolutely not," Leah quickly said. "They're not innocent by any means, but in terms of killing Jessica and Gianna, even with the obvious motive?" She shook her head. "All evidence points to the Volturi. The Cullens knew about it, yes, did absolutely nothing about it, of course, and tried to bribe a coroner, but didn't actually commit the homicide."

"So, they set them up, too, then," Paul concluded. He emitted a frustrated sigh. "They let Jessica go through with that UV deal, knowing full and well what was going to happen."

Leah exchanged looks with the other cops. "It seems so."

"So, based on what I've just heard, it appears that the Dahlia case's been, more or less, resolved," Paul announced. "Gianna and Demetri arranged it, Demetri did it, and some other guy got paid to do a little overkill… I'd like to know if it's truly Sancho, but I think, for the time being, we need to move on to more difficult matters, such as…"

"Gianna," Jacob provided, and before he could get any pushback from the captain, he explained himself, "I know we've placed her case aside, but it just blew wide open a couple of weeks ago. And not just because of the text messages found her on her phone. She was involved in Jessica's killing. She was involved in the heist—something gotta give. And something fishy is going on at Napolitano's." He fished out the notes he gathered during the trip to Cicero and handed them to the captain. "Check it out."

Paul skimmed through the report, nodding occasionally. "This is good intel," he said, handing the pages back to Jacob. "But if you don't mind, I'm going to assign Napolitano's to the team that's handling white-collar crimes. Your homicide detectives, remember? You have enough on your plate—Your focus should only be the Green Lawn Murders. Gianna's and the Dahlia's case should be put on the backburner for the time being."

As exciting as getting to the bottom of the Napolitano-drama was, both Leah and Jacob and even Embry had to admit that their captain was right.

"Green Lawn, it is," Jacob confirmed with a hard slap to his desk.

"I wonder why the Cullens were so concerned about the outcome of Jessica's autopsy if they supposedly had nothing to do with it?" Aisha asked during the ride to a restaurant on the periphery of downtown, where she had Leah planned to have lunch. "It wasn't like the ME was going to put 'death by vampire bite' on the report."

"They didn't want to have an autopsy at all," Leah reminded her friend as she changed the radio station from the news. She had been hearing the news all damn day. "Maybe it had something to do with the Deal? I don't know. The whole thing is weird…"

Aisha shook her head. "I still can't get over Gianna going to such great lengths to get a rival killed," she said, pulling the car to a stop at the red light. "That was completely unnecessary... did you guys find the overkill-artist?"

"We're leaning on Alvarez," Leah said. "Embry looked into some of his self-professed masterpieces." She then took out her phone and scrolled through the camera roll. "Here."

Aisha stole a look at the picture and cringed. "You sure he wasn't the Black Dahlia killer?" she asked, turning her focus back onto the road. "I mean, it's still an unsolved crime, and he would've been roaming the earth that the time."

Leah snorted as she relaxed in the passenger seat. "The way things have been going, I wouldn't be surprised. We have no idea where he is. Gianna and Demetri, the ones who probably hired him, are dead. Which leaves the people who…" she trailed off and then snapped her fingers. "Alicia Rivera."

"The baggage handler," Aisha said, moving at the sight of the green light. "I hear she's on vacation."

Leah nodded. "Yeah, for another week," she said. They had found that information from a work friend at the airport. One of the very few cooperative employees. "Miami."

"Damn, she beat us there," Aisha joked, and then asked, "Got anything else on her?"

"She's active on social media, but no mentions of her cousin. Her phone number is being checked on as we speak—she had it on her not-so-private Facebook page."

Aisha snorted. "If you're going to be involved in a conspiracy, at least be smart about it."

"The stupidity makes me sad," Leah remarked before increasing the volume on the car radio.

One of her favorite songs was on.

When Leah returned from lunch, there was a large envelope on her desk that definitely hadn't been there before. She checked the address—there wasn't one, of course, but it was marked as scanned (so the chances of it being an incendiary device significantly decreased).

She opened it to find a CD. Curious, she checked the label on the paper cover. To My Favorite Customer. Remember I scratch your back, you scratch mine.

Leah grinned, knowing full and well who the sender was.

"Hey, you guys want to join in on a listening party?" She called out to Jacob and Martinez as she inserted the disk into the computer. "I got this from a source. She had a conversation with Ricky Ricardo's wife, the one who's too scared to speak to the police."

"Favorite customer?" Jacob teased, wiggling his eyebrows when he could sight of the CD cover. He brought over a chair from an adjacent desk. A chuckling Martinez did the same. "Let me find out."

Leah rolled her eyes. She cleaned off the area in front of her partner so that he wouldn't be blocked by an ever-so-increasing pile of papers. "It's not like that," she maintained. "Trust me."

"So, what is that about?" Martine wondered.

"Just another person who doesn't to spend time in jail of illegally possessing a UV," Leah said, opening the video player application on her computer. From the looks of it, the file was only audio. "A little give-and-take, that's all."

Leah might have trusted Martinez, but he didn't have to know about Tia. Or at least, Leah's suspicions about Tia. To be frank, she probably shouldn't have even told Jacob of her suspicions. Working undercover, she knew from personal experience, was, in lack of a better term, a sonovabitch.

She clicked on the "play" button.

The first few minutes weren't anything special. There were two people, women, present. One was sounding like Tia and the other, Maria, Ricky's widow. They were inside a home, most likely Maria's apartment.

"Is that Ricky's ex-girlfriend?" Martinez asked when he recognized the woman's voice. "The one who was butting heads with Esposito the other day?"

Leah paused the recording. "If you're speaking of Tia, then yes," she said. "She and Maria somehow put aside their natural dislike for each other due to their lover's untimely demise."

"They should write a book," Jacob remarked. "Jerry Springer weeps."

Leah continued playing the audio.

"I want to thank you for checking up on me," Maria said, likely moving around in the kitchen, based on the sound of the fridge and cabinets opening and the running of water from the faucet. She filled up a cup and placed it on the table. "But I don't want to be a hassle…"

Tia pulled out a chair and sat down on the creaking wood. "It's not a hassle, at all," she insisted. She then let out a sigh. "Look, I'm truly sorry about messing around—"

"No," Maria said. Leah could imagine her putting up a hand to silence the other woman. "It wasn't what I wanted to come back to, but we have separated. No hard feelings."

"Thank you," was Tia's sincere reply. Whether or not she was truly into Ricky or was just doing her job was up to date in Leah's mind. But even she had to admit that Tia seemed genuine in her grief over Ricky's death. "I mean it, and thank you for the water. My throat felt like the goddamn desert."

Maria lightly chuckled. "No problem," she said. "It's pretty hot out there. Even for me and I grew up on an island. Well, one half." Silence fell between the women for several seconds, until Maria spoke up again, "I wonder what life would be right now if Ricky hadn't participated in that damned plane robbery."

"You don't know if he—"

"Oh, I know."

The detectives exchanged surprised and intrigued looks.

"You knew?"

Maria scoffed. "I'm his wife. Of course, I did. He didn't even have to tell me, and I still knew—I told him it was a stupid idea. Stealing from a plane? Wasn't there a mafia movie about that? Where everyone got screwed over, including the snitch?"

"Then why did he do it?"

"He said he had to follow orders. Who knew who he worked for, right? Whatever Eric says, Ricky has to do. It's how it is. Him, Tommy, Tony… Elise."

Leah paused the video and looked at the other detectives. "Elise?"

Martinez shrugged.

Jacob snapped his fingers. "The one only I know is Elise Jackson, a sister of one of Collin's ex-girlfriends…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "But she's supposed to be out of the game. In medical school. In Texas."

"Victim Number Seven," was Martinez's ominous declaration.

Leah nodded. That made sense, unfortunately, according to the medical examiner, one of the victims was a female. She swallowed and pressed the play button. Victim Number Seven, it was.

"Elise?" Tia sounded just as surprised as Jacob. "I thought she was out of the game?"

"Money talks. But money doesn't travel with you to the afterlife. They did all of that, for what? Just to be found—all bones—in a ditch." Maria sighed. "You know, her mom called me last week? Asking about Elise. She thought she was living it up in San Antonio, working on her nursing degree, taking care of her kids… I couldn't tell her she was in Chicago. That would only break her heart."

Another bout of silence came.

"Maria, I need you to be honest with me," Tia said moments later. Her tone was stone, no-nonsense as if she was participating in an interrogation. "Have you spoken to the police ever since they ransacked this place?"

Maria swallowed. "Of course, not," she said, voice unwavering. "I'm not stupid. I already got the message. I don't need another one… I'd like to live the rest of my life in peace."

"Even if that means they won't find Ricky's killer?" Tia asked. "I'm sure you want some closure."

"I don't need the cops to do a damn thing," Maria replied hotly. Under her strong response was fear. "I know who did. Anyone with a brain knew who did it. It was pay-back, simple as that. You're not gonna get away with stealing things from a goddamn plane—Anyway, why you're asking me about the cops?"

"I just wanna make sure your head's still screwed on tight," Tia quickly said. "Wanna make sure you stay on course."

"Of course, I am. Also, we don't need the cops. Ricky's boss, the one on top, says he got this all under control. Ricky's and the others' deaths won't be in vain. He's gonna make a move. I don't know when, but he is."

"You shouldn't get involved in that."

"Who do you think I am? One of them? I'm not. Never was. And anyway, if they find out I'm involved in the whatever-revenge plot, I'm gonna end up just like that girl found in that downtown hotel. All chopped up."

"Maria…"

"I'm thinking about just dropping everything and going to be to DR. It's safer there. I know many people there. I have family. Connections." Maria cleared her throat. "Yeah, Santo Domingo… that's where I should go."

"It's not gonna make anything better," Tia said. "I mean, yeah, you'll be miles away, but they're still gonna find you. DR's only so big."

"Or I can do witness protection," Maria argued. "But I don't want to have a new identity. I don't want to hide from my family, from my friends. Lie to myself. Lie to everyone—"

The recording abruptly ended.

Leah hoped it wasn't for a nefarious reason, but then again, she had received the CD, posted marked to two days before. The recorder probably just died.

"Your source came through," "How about we bring Mrs. Ricardo in? At least, jail is somewhat safer. There are guards."

"Tell that to Mike Newton," Jacob said with a loud snort. He rose from his seat as well. "And what exactly would we bring her in for?"

"Obstruction?"

"No," Leah said, ejecting the CD from the computer drive and placing it back into its sleeve. "Let's leave Maria out of this until we have no choice. She technically didn't lie us… but we should definitely keep an eye on her."