"So how long am I to remain your prisoner?" Danae picked at her lunch as Carlos wolfed his down.
"If he doesn't make another attempt soon, then we'll re-evaluate your case. Maybe we'll try to draw him out, end it quickly. It all depends on what he does."
Danae snorted. "As long as Nic is paying, I really don't care how long it takes!"
"Eventually, you'll have to tell me why you hate him so much," Carlos said with a laugh.
"I have my reasons," she said cryptically, her face closing.
"As long as you have your reasons, I don't mind getting rich off him. I bet he deserves your hate."
This got a smile from her. "You have a lot of faith in me." Carlos didn't reply and Danae thought about his silence. "You should take her dancing. The doctor."
Carlos made a face. "I don't know how to dance. I mean really dance."
Danae shrugged. "You were a boxer, right?" When he nodded, she went on, "I can teach you a few basic steps. Just think of it as boxing where you keep your opponent close enough to hit, but far enough to keep off of your toes."
"How romantic," he muttered.
"Do you have faith in me or not?" she asked hotly.
"Margo again?" Carlos asked Trent. His friend nodded grimly.
"I called her parents. They were really excited to hear from me. Apparently I promised to find her."
"When?"
"Probably two weeks ago at the most."
"Did you document anything?"
"Please. Kim would have wanted to know why I told her parents there would be no charge!"
"Did you tell her?"
Trent looked away. "Not really. I just said that we might have been slightly involved once." Carlos couldn't help laughing at this. "What?" Trent reddened.
"I was there at her going away party, mano, remember? The rest of us amused ourselves while you and Margo danced all night long with stars in your eyes! Ever wonder why I never dated her? It's because you two obviously had feelings for each other."
Trent reddened further. "Did everyone know?"
"'Cept you guys."
A long silence stretched between them. "I'm too close to this one, aren't I?"
"Yeah. But that's not the issue. The issue is your objectivity. Can you do the job? Should you do the job now that we know what she's up to?"
"Objectivity." Trent rolled the word around in his head. Did he still have that? Definitely. Above all else, he wanted Margo safe. And if that meant dropping her trail, then that's what he would do.
Carlos grinned as Trent said that word again. "I know: five syllables, and it came out of my mouth!"
Trent laughed at this, and the door to Thunder Investigations slammed open.
"Sandoval, I've got a bone to pick with you," Ryan said. His face was mottled red, and Carlos briefly wondered how much pushing it would take for Ryan to actually burst something vital in his brain.
"Sure, why don't you step into my office?" Carlos kept his attitude in check—he didn't fancy another trip to the hospital—and ushered his former rival into his office. "What can I do for you?" he asked once they were seated.
"I ought to arrest you for obstruction of justice!" He was still using his outside voice. His index finger came out, now, accusatory and invading Carlos' personal bubble. "You do NOT work for the Dallas Police Department, got it? If I ever hear that you are directing an investigation again, I will book you. Do you understand me?"
"Is this about the Launey case?"
"What else?"
"I'm sharing information, Ryan. You're looking for a man named Roger Adams from Indianapolis, Indiana. He's about-"
"That's what I mean, Sandoval! I can't believe you would dare to pull this on me! Roger Adams is dead. Has been for the last four days, which I think makes him decidedly NOT a suspect in the shooting. On a related note, the dead guy Danae was investigating is a member of the Locos. You know what I think? I think the Locos and the Ramirez gang got into it, and one of the Ramirez came back to admire his handiwork and saw you at the scene. I think they meant to shoot you, and I half-wish they had, so that I wouldn't have this headache. Stay. Out. Of. It." Ryan stood up to leave and paused at the door. "I'm petitioning to have Launey put into police protection. If it is Ramirez, she's not safe with you."
"You can't blame me for Ramirez. I had no idea his boys were still on the streets. If you'll recall, I had them all arrested with enough evidence from three months of undercover work to put them all away for a long time. But believe me, there is someone after her. The Ramirez don't roll with sniper guns. And they wouldn't stop with just one Loco dead. I know the way they think. You can't protect her like I can."
"You might not have a choice, Sandoval," Ryan sneered.
"Just so you know. This is on your head now."
"No, I've never heard of the Reformists, but there is no way Ira is involved." Senator Thompson looked like he needed an antacid the entire time Trent had explained his concern with his bodyguard. Kim sat quietly, bright eyes taking in everything.
"Senator, can I ask you why you hired him? You must have known about his past," Trent's voice was gentle, reassuring.
"His résumé was impeccable. You simply cannot be an effective bodyguard without stepping on the law's toes. When my wife said she didn't feel safe in Dallas-"
"Why didn't she feel safe?" Kim asked.
"We were receiving threats, worse than usual, and some had ended in property damage, vandalism. So I asked around. Ira came highly recommended by Bee's friends. Where would he find time to run a terrorist group? He's got more than a full time job protecting us!"
"You must understand, we need to explore every lead in order to be thorough," Trent said.
The Senator calmly wiped his glasses and grimaced as he considered. "I appreciate it. Don't let a fool like me get in the way."
"Ok you're bringing bad news," Danae said, feeling her stomach rise to the level of her throat.
Not for the first time, Carlos wondered if Danae was so good at reading people because she herself was so easy to read. He could tell she already knew, or at least guessed, what he was about to say. "Let's sit down," he offered. When they were settled on her couch, he began. "I'm very sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Roger died four days ago." He watched her carefully, but she just kept staring at the black TV screen, wringing her hands and breathing shallowly. "I called around, and I think it might have been a murder. An investigation is pending."
Danae stood up at this and walked quickly toward the back of her apartment. Carlos waited a few minutes, and when she did not return, decided to find her. She was kneeling over the toilet, waiting to see if she would be sick again. "So what the hell was Nic talking about, if Roger was dead?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe he didn't know. It's possible that if Roger had made threats and Nic hadn't heard from him he assumed the worse."
"If I know, I find it hard to believe that Roger's best friend doesn't."
"You suspected his motives from the start."
"Yes. Nic hates me."
"I need to know why."
Danae looked at him finally. "You tell me everything you're keeping back about this case, and I'll tell you what I'm running from."
"Can we do this…not in your bathroom?"
Danae barked out a laugh, tears sliding down her cheek. She brushed them away as if she were embarrassed, and brought herself under control. She rinsed her mouth, grabbed a box of Kleenex, and headed back to the couch.
"Roger and Nic were inseparable when I first met them, and Nic always accused me of taking Roger away from him. When we first got together, I begged him to stop smoking, but he wouldn't. I thought that was his only fault. He was sweet and romantic, and I thought I had found the perfect man. But as it turned out, he was way into drugs. I decided I couldn't live like that and I broke it off."
"Were you scared that you knew too much? Is that why you ran away?"
"You make it sound like I'm an errant child," she said hotly. "I removed myself, yes. I couldn't stay in a place where everything reminded me not only of what I lost, but of everyone who deceived me. My friends knew Roger was using—that he was sleeping around—months before I found out, and they never said a word. You may think me miserable here, but I'm a thousand times happier than I was. Until Nic came back."
"What's the deal with him?"
"He was the one who got Roger into drugs in the first place," Danae said bitterly.
Trent chewed on his lower lip as he waited outside Mrs. Thompson's beauty salon. According to the Senator, she went roughly once a week for a variety of services: nails, face, and hair. Interesting that a woman whose passions included gardening and painting had her nails done once a week. Weirder things have happened, to be sure, but Trent suspected everything now, especially when it came to Mrs. Thompson. He remained quite sure there was a link between Ira, his client's wife, and Margo.
He had Kim hacking into the Thompson's bank account looking for discrepancies. Maybe Beatrice simply wanted to live dangerously by supporting Ira's radical cause. Certainly her marriage was on the rocks, and people needed a little bit of drama in their lives…
Oh, God, Margo! Trent prayed hard that she was safe. He prayed harder that the feeling of dread in his stomach was all in his imagination.
He brought his focus back to the present. How long did manicures take? He'd been here for about an hour already.
His cell phone rang. "Malloy."
"Trent I've got some interesting stuff here." Kim's voice.
"Question: How long do manicures take?"
"Well, top end, with an appointment, running on time, 40 minutes, why?"
"Interesting."
"Oh boy, Trent. We need to schedule you a vacation. Maybe after Senator Thompson pays us. Which brings me back to my reason for calling. There's nothing out of place in the Thompson's joint account. So I decided to see if Beatrice had her own, which she does not, but while I was snooping around, I found an interesting flag in her file."
"What file?"
"El Paso PD file. Beatrice Pitman was arrested in college in connection with a radical political group."
"You can't be arrested for politics, Kim. What did she do?"
"She was booked for assault and instigating a riot, but it never went to trial. Looks like it was handled by the university."
"Great work, Kim. I want you to find out what Mrs. Thompson's political views really are, and how those compare with the Reformists. And then I want you to find out how she and the Senator met. I think we're onto something with this."
"Carlos." Danae barged into the office he shared with Trent without knocking. "You were wrong."
"Ok?" After their heart-to-heart, Carlos had brought Danae back to Thunder Investigations. Trent was obsessed with the Thompson case, so the only way of getting to the bottom of Danae's was to do it himself. And for that he would need the resources at Thunder Investigations.
"My victim wasn't the only Loco to die this week. In all, fifteen known members of that gang have turned up in morgue freezers. That makes your theory about Ramirez silly!"
"It was Ryan's theory," Carlos said, frowning.
"Well then I'm surprised you listened at all!"
"Sadly, this doesn't disprove his theory," Carlos said. "Wait, how did you find all this out?"
"I called around and asked about Locos. Turns out I'm the only ME who didn't know about the tattoo." She saw Carlos' big eyes and rushed on. "I used Kim's phone. She said it was scrambled and untraceable. And I didn't tell them where I was."
Carlos found himself laughing, though it wasn't funny. "Do you ever listen to directions?"
"Forget that! This is important!" Carlos just stared at her, face incredulous. "And no, I never listen when I can help it. What do you mean it doesn't disprove Ryan's theory?"
"What do you mean it does?"
"I don't think it's coincidence that every ME in Dallas is swamped. It seems to me that I was being drawn out. Besides, you said that place wasn't gang turf."
"It's not, and most gangs don't use sniper bullets, either. But I don't believe in coincidence, and we've still got a bunch of dead Locos, and two shooting attempts where we're both present." Danae looked frustrated. "What we need to do is get Nic off the streets. Right now, we've only got your word that he was selling drugs. With the right twist we might be able to have him arrested, but I doubt it."
"What if I could produce Roger's planner and journal?"
"Well that's an entirely different ballgame!"