Rogue Alliance (28 page)

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Authors: Michelle Bellon

BOOK: Rogue Alliance
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“Of course they won’t, it’s private property and I doubt anyone will come looking for him. He’s off the grid, working for men who keep a low profile.
It’s you I’m worried about. I shouldn’t have left. We had an agreement.
Are you okay?”

             
Victor sounded genuinely concerned. It
baffled him.

             
“Yeah, I’m okay, just tired. I should get to bed. I’ve got a flight to catch early in the morning.”

             
Brennan walked toward the shop.

             
“Hey, man,
” Victor said.

             
Brennan turned and waited.

             

I uh…I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad we’ve got each other.”

             
“Goodnight, Victor.”

 

*

 

             
“I’m here to see Ricardo Sanchez.”

             
Brennan spoke into the intercom and stared up into the camera in the corner by the security door.
It was Thursday early afternoon
and he just wanted to do his job and get back home.
The pace of
LA made him jittery.

             
There was a loud buzzing sound and the heavy door was pulled open by a stocky security guard who was chewing on the end of a toothpick.

             
“Identification, please,

he ordered.

             
Brennan whipped out the
identification and was glad for Victor’s contacts once again. The guard looked back and forth from the laminated card to Brennan’s face with a bored expression.

             
“Yeah. Okay. You’re on the list. Come in.”

             
Ten minutes later
,
he was seated in front of Ricardo on the other side of
a glass partition. Ricardo’s face lit up when he recognized Brennan. He plopped into his chair and snatched up the phone.

             
“I swear it wasn’t me who called the cops,” he blurted.

             
Brennan sat quiet
ly
, playing it cool.

             
Ricardo shifted in his chair, perched on the edge of his seat.

             
“I haven’t been pinching neither, like
I know some people been sayin’.
That’s bullshit. Whoever killed
my precious Sammy is probably the one
you need to be lookin’ for.”

             
Brennan didn’t speak or even blink.

             
Ricardo licked his lips nervously.

             
“Why are you here? What’s Victor want? I’ll do whatever he wants to set things right.”

             
“Who’s the girl?”
Brennan asked

             
“Girl? What girl?”
Ricardo asked, confusion flickering over his features.

             
“At the warehouse, as we were led out, you spotted a girl and shouted at her…”

             
Recognition lit in his eyes.

             
“Oh, yeah…I know her alright. She’s
been tailing me for over a year,
although, I ain’t seen her around muc
h lately. She works for some federal drug agency
. She’s a fucking cop.

             
Something quivered in Brennan’s gut but he kept his expression fixed.

             
“A cop?
” he asked,
“y
ou’re sure?”

             
Ricardo relaxed slightly and leaned back with a chuckle.

             
“Yeah, I’m sure. She’s a looker. I’d know her anywhere. She’s the one that went out to the crime scene when Sammy’s body was found. I know her and she knows me.
Come to think of it, she’
s probably the one who called. I just can’t figure how she would have
found out. But then again, she’s
been on my case for a damn long time.”

             
The room was silent.

             
“Hey, is Victor…you know, is he gonna help me out here?”

             
Brennan hung up the phone, stood up and walked away. He heard the faint sounds of Ricardo banging against the window. He kept walking. There was nothing more to say.

 

*

 

             
There was one other stop Brennan needed to make before he made the phone call to Victor. If he was going to break news such as this, he was going to make damn sure it was accurate beyond a shadow of a doubt.

             
He’d known all along something wasn’t right with Shyla; how she showed up out of the blue so conveniently, her detour through Victor’s office that night, her uncanny ability to whe
edle her way into their affairs
as a trusted girlfriend. Instinct had
told him to be cautious, but he had never imagined that she was a police officer.

             
The last place that he wanted to go was to t
he main headquarters of the LAPD
, b
ut they had a few old contacts
who worked downtown and
owed Victor a favor
here and there. It paid to know which cops had a drug habit.

             
Brennan took the cement stairs two at a time and silently wished that he would find out that Ri
cardo had been lying to detract the focus
from himself. But a little voice in his head knew the truth.

             
When he approached the administration desk, a perky blonde gave him a once over and a flirty smile.

             
“How can I help you, Sir?”

             
“Yeah, I’m supposed to meet with
Officer Schlesinger later this evening
, but I’ve just learned that I won’t be able to make that meeting. I was hoping that I could have a quick word with him right now, if he’s not too busy.

             
Brennan knew the cop he was enquiring about was relegated to a desk since an injury
two years back. He’d be on site
.

             
The secretary was biting her lip and Brennan figured it was supposed to be a seductive ploy but thought it m
ade her look ridiculous. Why do
girls act li
ke that?
he wondered.
Shyla didn’t
.
Except for that day at the park;
she’d tried a bit li
ke that then, but never again sinc
e. Now that he looked back
,
he realized she’d known all along who he was to Victor and was playing him like a fiddle to get a reaction. The realization should have angered him. It did to an extent, but it made him feel
ignorant too.

             
He shoved aside those thoughts and waited for the secretary to respond.

             
“I’ll have to radio
and find his location,” she said, “h
e may not be in the building.

             
“That’s fine. I’ll wait. Tell him it’s an old friend from Whitey’s café. He’ll know who you’re talking about.”

             
The woman nodded her head and picked up the call radio. Brennan knew that the best insurance to convince Schlesinger to come down was to use a reference he would instantly recognize as an affiliation with Victor.
Whitey’s café was code for wanting to buy cocaine. He’d come down.

             
Sure enough, Schlesinger shuffled out of the elevator, limping on his left leg with a wide eyed expression. When he caught sight of Brennan his brow furrowed and he glanced around nervously. Showing up at his workplace was unconventional. It would make him nervous.

             
He approached with a thin grin.

             
“Well hello.”

             
They shook hands.

             
“I’ve had something come up and won’t be able to make our meeting later today,
” Brennan said,

so I thought I’d stop by real quick to see if you had a few minutes.”

             
“Uh…sure, I’ve always got time for an old friend. Why don’t we just step out and have a quick cup of coffee at the bake
ry around the corner. It’s
nearly five o’clock. I get off work in a bit. Can it wait until then?

             
“No. It can’t. I won’t take much of your time.”

             
He sneaked
a
quick glance backwards and
ushered Brennan out the front door.

Brennan took the lead once they hit the sidewalk and led Schlesinger straight toward the limousine he’d come in. He opened the back door and gestured with his hand, indicating his guest slide in first.

             
Schlesinger gave him a nervous smile and looked like he might decline, then thought better of it. He slid in.
Brennan followed and shut the door behind them.

             
“What’s this about?”
Schlesinger asked.

             
Brennan pulled his phone out of his pocket.
With a few taps to the touch screen he pulled up a photo. It was one that he had taken of Shyla and Victor as they stood at the railing of the Shannon before they set sail that Friday evening.

             
“Do you know this girl?”

             
Schlesinger squinted as he glanced at the small screen. He grabbed the phone and held it closer for better inspection.

             
“Hmm, yeah, yea
h, I know her. She actually used to be one of ours, until she transferred, that is
. Narcotics, I believe. But I could be wrong about that.
I’m not sure. She wasn’t very friendly, but she was hot as hell.

             
He glanced up and handed the phone over.

             
“Why are you asking me?”

             
Brenna
n shook his head.

             

I just needed to identify her. That will be all. You’re excused.”

             
He opened the door.

             
Schlesinger paused.

             
That’s all?”

             
“That’s all.”

             
“Oh. Okay. Well you got anything on you? I could use a little pick-me-up. I’ve got cash.”

             
Users were shameless, thought Brennan. He shook his head and held the door open. Disappointed, Schlesinger begrudgingly
exited the vehicle.

             
“Say hi to
Victor for me,

he said.

             
Brennan cut him off and slammed the door shut. He lowered the pa
rtition and spoke to the driver.

             
“The airport. We’re done here.”

 

 

TWENTY-NINE

 

             
Shyla flipped through the radio stations and tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach
as she drove out of her apartment complex
.
It was date night.
Anxiety was not a str
anger
,
but she was frustrated because
she was so w
orked up about this damn date
with Victor. She had it under control, she told herself. But
the voices of Eli, Hal, and Shawn
kept echoing off the frenetic walls of her mind and it was making her twitchy.

             
Settling on a
classic rock station, she popped her thumb against the steering wheel to the beat of Lynard Skynard’s Sweet Home Alabama. It was dusk and the sky was a vibrant orange and pink display of color.

             
She turned down
Main Street and noticed a plump girl walking on the sidewalk. Even from behind, she would know that girl anywhere. Carmen was limping along pitifully, but her head was held high. Shyla wondered how she must have hurt herself, what kind of trouble she had been up to and pulled alongside the curb.

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