Hidden Agenda (20 page)

M
ichael turned onto the familiar street in one of the west Atlanta suburbs, hoping they'd made the right decision to track down Jinx. Time was running out, and chasing a false lead would waste what precious little they had of it left. But if Jinx was going to talk to anyone, it would be him, so at the moment it was a risk he was going to have to take.

He shook off any lingering doubts and focused on the rundown neighborhood with its vacant lots, gutted storefronts, and shoddy duplexes that sat waiting for a string of developers to step in and revitalize the once-thriving neighborhood.

It had always bothered him that television painted a portrait of most drug dealers as men like Valez, who could afford fast cars and loose women. The truth was that most of the dealers he'd had contact with over the years had a hard time simply keeping a roof over their heads. Their days were spent trying to get enough cash to avoid being evicted while feeding their addiction. It was a horrid life that far too many found impossible to escape.

Mason grabbed a piece of gum from the console between them and peeled off the wrapper. “Are you sure this guy can help?”

“If anyone will have information on what's about to go down,
Jinx will have it. It's been awhile since I've seen him, but he owes me a favor or two.” Michael glanced at his former partner and saw the frown on his face. “What's wrong?”

“Still trying to absorb everything that's happened since your text.” Mason scrunched up the wrapper and dropped it in the litter bag hanging on the gearshift. “In some ways, it's easy to forget that you've been ‘dead' the past eight months, until something's said that brings it all back.”

Michael nodded. Mason was right.

“Driving together feels like old times, yet at the same time, everything has changed.”

“I'm still trying to take it all in myself.”

He slowed down as they passed a row of apartment buildings. There was a marked police car a quarter of a mile ahead. He turned left, opting for the back way into the neighborhood. With every police officer in the city looking for him, he couldn't take any chances he didn't have to.

“Funny how you can step out of the picture for so long, yet still expect everything to be the same when you return,” he said. “Except clearly it isn't. Everything feels familiar, but there's still that feeling that something's off.”

“I guess it's true that life goes on with or without us.”

“Like you and Emily?” He posed the question, needing the distraction from the current situation. Like his former partner, love—or at least attraction—seemed to have taken him by surprise. He was still trying to decipher the unexpected rush of emotions that came over him when Olivia looked at him. Unexpected. Unpredictable. He knew he shouldn't have kissed her, but kissing Olivia had only managed to cement those feelings he knew now he wanted to explore. When all of this was over, he planned to ask her out on a proper date and see what came of it.

Mason looked at him incredulously. “You still don't approve?”

“Actually I do approve, but that doesn't mean that it isn't going to take a bit of time for me to get used to all the changes. I think part of me expected life to stand still while I was gone, and that . . . that certainly didn't happen.” Michael turned onto Jinx's street. “Besides, when it comes to Emily, I'm just doing my job.”

“Your job?”

“As a big brother. It's my responsibility to protect my little sister from the likes of scoundrels like you.”

“A scoundrel? Really?”

Michael laughed, helping to break some of the tension of the morning. “You know I couldn't choose a better brother-in-law, if it comes to that one day.”

“Well, I'm glad to hear that, though I can't say I was planning to ask for your approval.”

“You always did have a stubborn streak.”

“Tell me more about Jinx,” Mason said, bringing them both back to the present.

“Last I heard, he's been toeing the line pretty well, but I'm pretty sure he's kept his ties with the cartel. At least he should have some information for us.” Michael pulled up against the curb, then turned off the engine. “We're still half a block away, but we'll check out the neighborhood a little. The address his parole officer gave you is the same place he lived the last time I saw him.”

Michael pulled the keys from the ignition and exited the car, hoping they'd get lucky and find Jinx on their first stop.

The neighborhood was filled primarily with duplexes and other lower-end houses. At least a third of them looked empty, with plywood over the windows and overgrown grass in the yards. A group of kids played basketball in a vacant lot down the street.

“This reminds me of where I grew up,” Mason said.

Michael nodded at Jinx's house. “There it is. And I recognize the car in the driveway. Jinx never could get rid of anything.”

An old junker sat in the carport. Jinx was reaching for the car door when Michael saw him.

Michael started up the driveway. “Jinx . . . it's been a long time.”

Jinx hesitated, then started running toward the back of the house.

“Jinx!”

Mason threw Michael an apologetic glance. “You up for this, partner?”

“Not sure I have a choice. I'll take the back. You cut him off around the front.”

Michael felt the sharp jerk in his rib cage, and instantly regretted the movement. Pushing through the pain, he ran under the carport, ducking beneath a ladder hanging from the ceiling.

Jinx slipped into a narrow alleyway behind the house, then headed south.

“I just want to talk with you, Jinx,” Michael shouted.

Jinx turned again onto a small side street, allowing Mason to cut off his only escape route and giving Michael the chance to wrestle him to the ground.

Michael paused to catch his breath and make a mental note to take some more pain relievers once they were back in the car while Mason slapped a pair of handcuffs on the fugitive.

Jinx squirmed into a sitting position. “I heard you was dead.”

“As you can see, I'm alive and kicking. And I said I just wanted to talk.”

“Sorry. I got a couple goons after me for a few . . . unpaid debts. Didn't know it was you, considering I thought you was dead.”

“Fortunately, that rumor wasn't true.” Michael kept his tone
casual. “So, my partner had a talk with your parole officer earlier today.”

Jinx held Michael's gaze. “I ain't done nothin' wrong.”

“I'm happy to hear you've been staying out of trouble.” Michael grabbed Jinx's arm and pulled him to his feet. “But personally, I'm getting too old for this. A bit of cooperation would have gone a long way in softening me up. Because now, not only do I need something from you, but I'm in pain.”

“That's not my problem.”

“Really?” Michael asked. “I'm sure if I did a bit of digging, I'd find something I could take you in for.”

Michael caught the fear in the man's eyes. Jinx might have a habit of playing on the wrong side of the law, but he wasn't stupid. He'd learned long ago how to play the system to his advantage.

“So how have you been?” Michael asked.

“I've been workin' long hours. Got a job not too far from here.”

“Good for you. At the moment, we need some information, and as I remember, you were pretty good at knowing what was happening on both sides of the fence.”

“My days of being an informant are over.”

“Think of it as a get-out-of-jail-free card. There are rumors of a list. Dirty cops working for the cartel. What do you know about it?”

“That I'm smart enough not to get involved in somethin' stupid like that.”

“Good answer, but we need information. We know you've been in contact with Bernie, which, as you know, is a violation of your parole.”

“He gave me a lead on a job. Nothin' more, I swear.”

“And I'm supposed to believe that.” Michael turned to Mason. “I say we haul him down to the station and book him for fleeing a police officer.”

“I told you, I'm clean. I'm not goin' back there.”

“Then tell us what you know, and we'll put in a good word to your parole officer.”

Jinx stared down the street. “Fine, but first take off the handcuffs and come inside. I don't need no one seein' me talkin' to cops.”

Michael smiled. “You've got a deal.”

Inside the duplex Jinx dumped a load of laundry onto the floor, nodding to the leather couch across from him. He lit up a cigarette and sent a puff of smoke into the already stale air.

Michael let out a low whistle as he looked around the place. Jinx had learned how to live under the radar, but clearly that didn't mean he was willing to give up certain luxuries, starting with a sixty-inch flat-screen TV with surround sound and a three-piece leather furniture set. A soccer game played on the screen, sound muted. Pizza boxes sat on the kitchen table beside a two-liter bottle of Coke.

“You've done well for yourself,” Michael said.

“I get by okay.”

Mason crossed the carpet and cracked the blinds on the front window. Other than the wind blowing through the line of trees out front, the street was quiet.

“I seen you on the news last night. Did you kill those guys?”

Michael sat down across from Jinx. “Just like the rumors of my death, don't believe everything you hear on the news.”

“So what's all this about? I need to be at work in forty-five minutes.”

“Tell us what you know about that list.”

“Who says I know anything?” Irritation flickered in Jinx's eyes. “I'm clean now, remember?”

“And smart enough to keep tabs on what's going on, in order to make sure you benefit from that knowledge.”

“A man's gotta protect himself. Knowing what's going on has
always worked good for me.” Jinx let out a sharp huff while Michael waited for him to answer. “They call it the Canary List. It's a list of dirty cops and government guys paid off by the cartel.”

“What else do you know?” Michael asked.

“There's a turf war gettin' fueled up. Some say La Sombra's involved.”

“Do you know who La Sombra is?”

Jinx stilled, and glanced to the right and left. He ignored the question and said instead, “I've heard rumors someone is trying to take over.”

“Who?”

“I'd start lookin' into a man by the name of Julio Salazar,” Jinx said. “He hasn't made much noise yet, but they're sayin' he's quickly makin' his way up the ladder.”

“So Salazar's planning to take over?” Michael said.

“There're rumors of a hit,” Jinx said.

“Any idea how this is going to play out?”

“No, but from what I've heard, Salazar's plannin' somethin' big.”

“Like what? A bomb?”

“You know of anything bigger?” Jinx said with a sneer.

Michael ignored the jab. “Is Salazar the one who tried to take out Valez earlier this year?”

“Maybe. This time, though, he wants to make sure everybody knows who the new boss is. Make a statement to stop any future uprisings,” Jinx said.

Michael felt a chill race through him. That wasn't how the cartel normally worked. At least not on this side of the border.

“Where?” Mason asked.

“I don't know, but it'll be soon.”

“How do we stop it?”

Jinx shook his head. “Stop it? You don't cross these people
and live to tell about it. They have resources even the police don't have.”

“Do you know anything else?” Michael asked.

“I know you ain't the only one wantin' that list o'names.”

“Who else is looking for it?” Michael asked.

Jinx looked up and caught his gaze. “Salazar.”

“Because whoever gets ahold of that list,” Mason said, “will be one step closer to controlling the entire territory.”

“My, my, ain't you the smart one.” Jinx stubbed his cigarette out. “You better hope those smarts can keep you alive, if you go after Salazar.”

Michael walked to the front window and looked out again. “Sorry to interrupt the reunion, but we've got company.”

“Who is it?”

“An unmarked car with what looks like a couple of detectives.”

Jinx frowned. “You went and got me in trouble? Even after I told you all that stuff?”

“I don't think they're after you, Jinx. Mason, we got about thirty seconds to get out of here before they find us.”

“You told them where I am—”

“No one knows we're here, except your parole officer.”

Jinx hesitated. “Where'd you park?”

Michael pointed. “A few doors down.”

Jinx started toward the back of the house. “We gotta go over the back fence. Follow me!”

Michael hesitated briefly.
Over the back
fence? Right.