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Authors: Brenda Adcock

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Lesbian, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery & Detective

Pipeline (5 page)

BOOK: Pipeline
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"Take
this, Davey," Pauli said as he pulled a pen from his pocket and wrote on
the bill. "You see anyone meetin' with the Conquistadors who looks like
they don't belong here, call that number and leave a message. You get somethin'
and I'll have a few more Jacksons for you."

Mercado
stuffed the bill into his pocket and continued down the street.

"Think
he'll call?" I asked.

"Who
knows? Depends on how strung out he gets. Escobar screwed him over a few years
ago. He might want to get even."

"What
are you hunting for anyway, Pauli?" I asked as we returned to the car.

"Well,
sometimes outsiders who want to contract out a hit contact these morons down
here to do it. It's cheaper than bringing in a pro from out of town. Of course,
the results ain't as reliable, but it usually works pretty good. If your kid
tripped onto something else besides your basic illegal angle, whoever is
involved might have hired one of these kiddies to do the job to keep the focus
on illegals rather than draw attention to themselves."

"Sounds
a little convoluted."

"Crime
gets that way sometimes," Pauli said as he folded himself back into the
vehicle.

We
cruised the rest of the neighborhood before Pauli returned to his house to drop
me off. He was going to the hospital to interview Kyle and then planned to
convince some old pal on the force to give him access to the computer to check
a few things. I gave him Sarita Ramirez's name and asked him to check her out
as well. Pauli agreed to pick me up the following morning to search Kyle's
apartment.

When
I got back to my room at the hotel, I placed an order with room service and
started dialing numbers again. I renewed a few old acquaintances, but otherwise
the calls were fruitless. Then I remembered the notebooks and scraps of paper I
had taken from Kyle's desk at the Light and found them still stuffed in my
jacket pockets. While I waited for my food, I spread the scraps of paper out on
the bed and began going through them one at a time. Most were phone numbers and
initials, and I added them to my list of phone calls just to see if anyone
interesting answered. There had been two notebooks in Kyle's desk. One of them
was over a year old, but the second one was at least dated the current year,
and I started with it. I was about a fourth of the way through when there was a
knock at my door. Grabbing my wallet, I went to the door, but when I opened it,
it wasn't my dinner.

"Did
you send that fat cretin to the hospital today, Joanna?" Cate asked as she
barged into my room.

"Pauli?"

"Yes."

"I
didn't send him, but he said he was going to ask Kyle a few questions.
Why?"

"He
practically accused Kyle of shooting himself!"

"Calm
down, Cate. He's just trying to get some information."

"Well,
he's not very subtle about it."

"Have
you ever met a subtle cop? The kid won't tell you what he's working on. His
girlfriend won't say, and his editor doesn't know shit. If you want my help,
then we have to get beyond subtle."

"He
insinuated that Kyle was involved in something illegal himself and that was why
he was shot."

"I
didn't tell him to do that, Cate. But for all I know the kid might be involved
in something illegal."

"That's
absurd! And will you stop calling him 'the kid'! He's your son, for God's
sake!" She began pacing around the room with her arms crossed in front of
her. She came to a halt in front of me, and when she looked at me, her eyes
still had a fire in them.

"Isn't
it possible that you don't know him as well as you think you do?" I asked.

"I
know he wouldn't be involved in anything illegal."

"Well,
apparently you didn't know he was shacked up with the lovely senorita Sarita.
What else don't you know?"

She
swung her hand to slap me, but I caught her wrist before she could make
contact.

"I
should never have brought you into this. We were better off pretending you
didn't exist," she seethed.

If
she had hit me, it couldn't have hurt any more than her words had.

"Well,
it's not too late, sweetheart," I shot back as I released her arm.
"Say the word and I can be checked out of this dump in five minutes. If
you want me to keep checking, I will. Then you can head on back to Susan and
your clients, and let me do what I do."

Another
knock at the door interrupted our conversation.

"Come
in!"

A
young Hispanic man opened the door and brought a tray into the room. He set it
on the nightstand and took the tip I offered him, closing the door as he left.
As soon as he was gone, I turned back toward Cate, who was still upset and
fighting to regain control of herself.

"What's
it going to be, Cate?"

"If
you stay, will you at least let me know what's going on?"

"As
long as you remember that I'll tell you
if
I discover anything bad as
well."

"I
know," Cate said, softening her tone slightly. "But you won't find
anything bad."

"I
hope you're right. Want half a sandwich?"

The
argument had caused me to lose my appetite, and I began dialing more phone
numbers as Cate picked at my sandwich. After nearly half an hour, I came to the
conclusion that there were way too many takeout joints in San Antonio. I rested
against the headboard and closed my eyes tightly.

"Tired?"
Cate asked.

"I
hate goddamn telephones. You can't look the speaker in the eyes and tell
whether they're lying to you or not."

"They
don't bother me. Let me call for a while. What am I looking for?"

"I
don't have the slightest idea. I found these numbers in the kid's...I mean
Kyle's desk at the paper and borrowed them. I was hoping one of them would be a
person rather than a business or that there would just be something unusual
about one of them."

"You
mean something like Mafia Southwest, Inc.?" she said with a grin.

"At
least that would be useful. Would you mind if I grabbed a quick shower? Pauli
and I went to a couple of places today that reeked of garbage."

"Be
my guest," she said as she picked up the receiver and looked at the
numbers.

I
was back in less than ten minutes. Cate was sitting on the edge of the bed and
had a motel notepad and pen on the nightstand next to the phone. I had slipped
into old jeans and a T-shirt and was barefoot. The carpet wasn't plush but felt
good under my feet. Cate was wearing a pair of reading glasses that sat halfway
down her nose. She glanced at me over the top of them as I came back into the
room and tossed my dirty clothes into a corner. Steam from the bathroom
followed me as I grabbed a hairbrush from the dresser and made a couple of
quick swipes through my short graying brown hair before sitting down in a chair
across from her. About half the sandwich was still on the plate and I took a
bite and waited.

"Anything?"
I asked with my mouth half full as she finally hung up the phone.

"Spoke
to Sarita's mother in Dallas. This is the number in case you need it," she
said, handing me a slip of paper. "So far the others are an assortment of
businesses." She picked up another scrap of paper and looked at it. She
dialed and then pulled her glasses off and let them dangle in her hand as the
phone rang. From her reaction I assumed the phone was answered by a machine.
She listened and then hung up. "That might be something, Jo. It was the
San Antonio office of the Immigration and Naturalization Service."

"Could
have been for background information on anything though."

"Were
you planning to call all of these numbers tonight?" she asked, looking at
the list. "I always thought your work was exciting, but this is more
boring than what I do."

"Give
your ear a rest. What time is the girlfriend supposed to be at the hospital in
the morning?"

"Around
nine. I'll call you here."

"Pauli's
going to go with me, but I promise we won't disturb anything."

"Kyle
has a computer. Whatever you're looking for might be on a CD."

"Oh,
great," I muttered.

"You
know how to use a computer, don't you?"

"Never
felt the need to learn, but Pauli might."

Cate
looked at her wristwatch. "I better go. I have a few calls to make myself.
Unfortunately work didn't stop just because I was gone."

"Can't
your law partner handle them?"

"Probably,
but you know what they say about doing things yourself so you know they're done
correctly." She got up and crossed to the door.

"Give
Susan my regards," I said.

"Not
likely," she said over her shoulder as she left my room.

I
shook my head and smiled to myself. I had missed the little barbs we used to
throw at each other. We had easily slipped back into them as if we had never
been apart.

Chapter
Six

PAULI
SHOWED UP earlier than I expected the next morning. I had a T-shirt halfway
over my head when I opened the door. Pauli smiled, revealing tobacco-stained
teeth, and held up two large cups of 7-11 coffee. A chewed-up stub of a cigar
was clinched between his teeth, and I wondered if he slept with the damn thing
in his mouth. He kicked the door closed with his foot as he entered the room.

"If
I'd known you was sleepin' in, I would've called first," he said, handing
me a Styrofoam cup.

"What
time is it?"

"About
seven. What time you supposed to perform your amateur sleuthin'?"

"The
girlfriend isn't gonna be at the hospital until around nine. My ex will call
when she arrives."

"That
the spitfire I met yesterday?" he asked as he sipped from his cup.

"The
way she tells it, you did everything but use a rubber hose on the kid."

"Tough
little bastard. Wouldn't tell me shit even when I told him I knew the gist of
his story. Gave me that First Amendment bullshit about confidentiality of
sources and spit out a bunch of court cases I never heard of."

"His
mother's a lawyer."

"Decent-lookin'
woman."

I
grunted and wandered into the bathroom to wash my face. Over coffee I recounted
the phone calls from the day before, including the one to the INS.

"Reckon
he's workin' on somethin' that might interest the Feds?" Pauli asked.

"Could've
been for background information. For all I know those numbers are a year or
more old."

"By
the way, I ran the girlfriend's name through the police computer. She's clean,
but a couple of her family members could use a sponge bath."

"How's
that?"

"Mostly
petty juvenile stuff, but she's got a brother who did a stint for some
gang-related deal."

"In
San Antonio?"

"Dallas.
Probably just wanted to join up and got recruited in high school. He's out now
and a straight shooter as far as I can tell."

"Maybe
Kyle was using him as a source on gang activities."

Pauli
shrugged and chewed on his cigar.

"You
ever light that thing?" I asked.

He
shook his head. "Smokin's bad for you."

We
killed nearly two hours before the phone finally rang. I grabbed it before the
first ring died away.

"She's
here, Jo," Cate answered.

"Okay.
Have a safe trip home," I said looking at Pauli.

He
signaled to me with his hand. "Tell her to call the kid's place when they
leave the hospital, so we can clear out. Let it ring two times and then hang up
so we'll know it's her."

I
relayed the message, and Cate agreed to call from her cell phone.

Within
ten minutes we were at the building in Olmos Park where Kyle and Sarita shared
an apartment. The area looked deserted as Pauli drove around the block. There
was a back alley and a fire escape from each floor. In case we didn't make it
out in time, Pauli wanted an alternative route out of the building. We parked
across the street from the apartment building and walked in like a couple of
regular tenants, taking the elevator to the fourth floor. I pushed my duplicate
key into the lock, and we entered the living room.

The
apartment was light and clean. Apparently Sarita Ramirez was a decent
housekeeper. The living room was decorated in early discount store, but
tastefully done. There were a few pictures hanging on the walls, mostly cheap
prints probably bought along the River Walk from street artists, and cinder
blocks and boards for bookshelves. While I looked around, Pauli had already
explored the remainder of the apartment. It had two bedrooms with one converted
into an office that wasn't as neat as the rest of the apartment.

Reporters
took notes on whatever they could grab, and their general filing system was
wherever they set it down later. I had hated it when Cate cleaned up my work
area, driving myself crazy looking for addresses and phone numbers that Cate
would neatly file under miscellaneous. More often than not, unless I knew where
it was lying on my desk, I didn't know whose address or number it was. Pauli
sat down at the desk with the computer in front of him.

BOOK: Pipeline
6.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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