I Never Thought I'd See You Again: A Novelists Inc. Anthology

by Неизвестный

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do.”

  She stared at him, chin out. She was not going to back down on this. “If I don’t do something to stop the person who set me up, Marisa died for nothing.”

  Jake ran his hands over his head. “Let me think on it.”

  “I have to do something,” she said.

  “First, we talk to Maddie. Agreed?”

  She didn’t have much of a choice. And she’d promised to trust him.

  She hoped she hadn’t misplaced that trust.

  # #

  While Lucky went to the store for supplies, Jake tried every number he had for Madeleine Burke, but she wasn’t home, she wasn’t at the office, and she wasn’t picking up her cell phone. He left her one message without a return number and told her to call Cutler.

  “So now,” Angel said, clearing her plate, “we go with Plan B.”

  “I think we’re on Plan K by now,” Jake muttered.

  “I could always record a statement and post it on YouTube for the world to see.”

  “Let’s not.”

  “Just saying.”

  Jake needed to think, and it didn’t help that he’d had only a couple cat naps to sustain him.

  He called Cutler on the burner phone.

  “I need Kristina Larson’s home address.”

  “She’s a prosecutor. No fucking way can I get it. You want me to go to prison? I mean, shit, Jake, it’s not — ”

  “I’ll call you in five minutes.” He hung up.

  “I don’t think that guy likes you very much,” Angel said as she rinsed the plates and stacked them on the counter.

  “Cutler’s a slime, but he’s my slime,” Jake said. She sat back down and was watching him. Looking to him for guidance and direction. That made him nervous. What if he failed her?

  He waited four-and-a-half minutes and called him back. “And?”

  “You did not get this from me.”

  Jake wrote Larson’s home address on his hand. She lived in Los Feliz. “Don’t you have a vacant house in Los Feliz?”

  “Yeah,” Cutler said, wary.

  “Where are the keys?”

  “Under the second pot on the back porch. Please, I like that place. Don’t get it shot up.”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “As long as you’re not crossing your fingers while you’re at it.” Cutler slammed down the phone.

  Lucky returned. “I got everything you wanted,” he said and handed Jake a large bag.

  “So what’s the plan?” Angel said. “I knock on her door and say hey, someone’s trying to kill me?”

  “No. This information is for an emergency only. If she’s the one leaking information to the G-5, we don’t confront her. She’s an ADA. You’re a wanted fugitive.”

  “I have an idea,” Angel said. She held up the phone that Lucky had given her. “I’ll keep an open line. You record everything. I’ll get her to admit she tried to get me killed, and then we go to the police and ta-da!”

  “It’s not as simple as that.”

  “How ‘bout this. I call her. Didn’t your slimy friend Cutler give you her number as well?”

  “Yes, but — ”

  “I’ll tell her where I am. If she sends the cops or comes herself, she’s good. If she sends the Garcias, she’s bad.”

  Lucky said, “I have all the equipment you need if you want to wire Angel.”

  “No,” Jake said. “I’m not putting you in the line of fire, kid. My first idea, of getting out of town, is sounding much better.”

  “You can stay here. Mi casa and all that.”

  “Thanks, buddy,” Jake said. “We might take you up on that — ”

  “No!” Angel shouted. “I mean, thanks, Lucky, but we can’t just sit around here and do nothing. If I wait until the morning, go to her office, and she’s one of them, I’m never going to leave that courthouse. Not even you could break me out of juvie.”

  He had to admire his kid. She was no saint, but she wanted desperately to do the right thing, and that wasn’t something she’d learned from her mother — or from him, because he hadn’t been around to teach her.

  Jake handed her the bag that Lucky had bought. “While I make some calls, let’s at least disguise you.”

  She looked inside and stared blankly at the hair dye and clothes. “That’s a dress.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “I’m not wearing that.”

  “There’s blood on your jeans, that shirt is stained, and your hair stands out.”

  “I’ll dye my hair, but I’m not wearing a dress.”

  “You’re wearing a dress because no one will expect it.”

  She groaned, grabbed the bag, and stomped down the hall to the bathroom. She slammed the door.

  Jake said to Lucky, “I’m worried.”

  “You’re going to keep her, aren’t you?”

  “What the hell does that mean? She’s not a stray dog.”

  “Her mom’s a drunk, she’s on the edge, she has a record — she needs you.”

  Jake had been thinking the same thing. “First things first.” He paused. “Besides, I don’t know if she wants me in her life.”

  “Just open your eyes. She wants someone to care if she lives or dies.” Lucky tossed him the burner phone. “Call your cop friend. Find out what’s what.”

  Lucky was right. Tommy Lind would give him the scoop, and even if he couldn’t help, Jake would at least have an idea of what to do. He didn’t like the idea of Angel talking to Kristina Larson. Far too risky. He really needed to talk to Maddie. As much as Jake has issues with the defense attorney — most of them personal — she was as straight and honorable as they came.

  He dialed Tommy’s number. “Tommy, it’s Jake Morrison.”

  “Jake? What the fuck is going on?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Everyone knows your apartment was shot up last night. Your boss said you’re on a job.”

  “I am.”

  “You okay?”

  “For now. I have a situation. LAPD is looking for a teenager named Iliana Saldana, goes by Angel.”

  “Don’t I know it. It’s my day off, but we’re all working because we have a cop dead. You have a lead on her?”

  Jake didn’t like the direction of this conversation. He’d planned to tell Tommy everything, but he pulled back. “I might.”

  “Give it to me.”

  “I don’t know where she is,” Jake lied, “but I have it on good authority that she was the gang’s target.”

  “What authority?”

  “She’s testifying against Raul Garcia of the G-5 gang tomorrow morning. Possibly to a grand jury or to a judge to get a subpoena. I’m not sure on the details.”

  “This girl has a rap sheet, been in and out of juvie, and the word on the street is she lied about the murders because she’s starting a war between the G-5 and Cedros Street gangs to benefit the Ranchitos.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “The Mexican gangs have grown since you left, buddy. It can be a war zone in the wrong area, and she’s in the middle of it.”

  “I don’t think that’s true.”

  “What’s your connection? Where are you getting this intel? Because what we’re hearing is far different.”

  Scenarios ran through Jake’s head. “It doesn’t even make sense that she’d lie about seeing Raul Garcia shoot two gangbangers — it puts a big fat target on her back.”

  “What better way to start a war? Those prostitutes the G-5 gang supposedly killed were Cedros girls. G-5 and Cedros take each other out, Ranchitos move right on in. Might have been that she did see them killed, but it wasn’t Garcia. Frankly, they all need to be hauled in and sent to prison, but we only have so much manpower.” Tommy hesitated a minute, then asked, “Jake, do you know where she is?”

  “No. I gotta go.”

  Lucky said, “That didn’t go well.”

  “It’s worse. I tipped our han
d and now they could be coming here.”

  “They can’t trace the call.”

  “I can’t count on that. And even if they can’t, they’ll pull my file and find out she’s my daughter. I made Tommy suspicious. He may be a friend, but he’s a cop first.”

  “Where are you going to go?”

  “I have a place. I can’t tell you — I trust you, but I don’t want to put you on the hot seat.”

  Lucky retrieved another burner phone. “Take this. Let me know what I can do. Do you have money?”

  “Enough.” Jake glanced down the hall. “Now I need to tell Angel I screwed up and we need to run.”

  # #

  Jake had gotten a variety of hair dyes, none of which would work on her hair if she didn’t bleach it first. Unless she just cut it off.

  Angel stared at her reflection. She found a small pair of scissors in Lucky’s drawer and cut her hair until it was about chin-length. She’d never had it this short before and wasn’t sure she’d like it. She pictured herself in a coffin with this sloppy haircut and grimaced. But there was no going back now. She chose the lightest color dye and focused on her roots then combed it through to the ends. Her scalp tingled and she let the dye soak in while she considered what was going to happen. She didn’t think about today — she felt like everything was already out of control. But when all was said and done, what was going to happen to her tomorrow?

  Jake may have called her his daughter, but he wasn’t going to raise her. She didn’t need raising. She was fifteen-and-a-half, and as soon as she could get her GED and become emancipated, she would. She didn’t want to see her mother again, not after finding out that she’d been drinking all her child support money. Five hundred bucks a month — hell, if she had saved that, college might have been a real option. But it was gone, and Angel wasn’t the type to regret.

  She never thought she’d see her dad again after that day in the park ten years ago — she’d certainly never wanted to. She’d convinced herself she didn’t care about him. Now that she knew different, she didn’t know how to say goodbye — except, she’d have to. She’d suck it up and do what was expected of her. What choice did she have?

  She showered and washed out the dye. Her hair didn’t look half-bad. It was streaky — brown, copper, even a little blonde. She combed her hair with her fingers, trimmed the ends to get them as even as possible, then towel dried the whole mess.

  She stared at the dress and cringed. It was a long-sleeve black thing, almost shapeless. She sighed and pulled it over her head. When she looked, she was surprised that the dress didn’t suck. At least it wasn’t frilly or flowery.

  A knock on the bathroom door made her jump.

  “What?” she said.

  “Just want to make sure you didn’t jump out the window.”

  “It’s too small. I tried.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  She opened the door. He stared at her and she tried not to feel self conscious.

  He said, “We have to go.”

  “Great. I’m ready. What are we doing?”

  “We’re going to find Maddie. If that doesn’t work, I have Lucky’s equipment and we’ll record your statement and send it to the DA himself.”

  “I don’t get it — what changed?”

  “The word around LAPD is that you’re a Ranchitos and starting a war between G-5 and Cedros Street.”

  Angel stared at him, then laughed. She sat heavily on the edge of the bathtub and shook her head. “Un-fucking-believable.”

  “We’ll fix this, but we have to go. They might find us here, since Lucky and I were in the Marine’s together. I’m sorry,” he said.

  She stopped laughing. “You didn’t ask me.”

  “Ask you what?”

  “If I was a Ranchitos.”

  He stared at her, confused.

  She continued. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. I screwed up. If I hadn’t reached out to Tommy, we’d have been safe here.”

  She stood up and gave him a hug. It felt weird and good at the same time. “You didn’t believe the accusations, even though you have no reason to trust me.”

  “Angel, we need to be honest with each other. If we’re going to get through this alive, I need to trust you as much as you trust me.”

  “For the record, I’m not in a gang. The closest I’ve come to the Ranchitos are the boys downstairs in my building. I used to hang with them when we were kids, until they were recruited. I don’t need that shit in my life. Look what it did for Marisa.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t cry.

  “You didn’t need to explain. But — maybe that’s where this ridiculous theory came from.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The boys downstairs could be known associates in your file. Or an informant exaggerated the connection.”

  “We need to confront Kristina Larson.”

  “Not when every cop in LA thinks you’re armed and dangerous. I have a plan. We’ll get your statement on tape and then we go from there.”

  “And that’s why we’re seeing your girlfriend.”

  Jake shook his head. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jake waited until dusk before he and Angel left on Lucky’s Harley and drove down I-5 until they reached Los Feliz, a hilly, affluent community in the heart of Los Angeles. Cutler owned property throughout the county from people who put up their houses for bonds, then bailed. Cutler sold some, kept others, and earned more money on rentals than he did from his bond cut. The small, Spanish style house set far back from the street and was a perfect place to hide out.

  While Jake checked the doors and windows, Angel walked through the house in awe. The high ceilings, original small-paned windows, and oak hardwood floors throughout were nice, but the kitchen was original linoleum and tile, much of it chipped and when Jake plugged in the refrigerator it roared louder than the car he’d stolen that morning. He decided they didn’t need it for the time they’d be spending here.

  “This is real nice,” she said, an odd lilt to her voice.

  Jake realized Angel had never had a real home. She must have been living in that hovel most of her life. Jake’s family didn’t have much money growing up, and his parents were now both deceased, but he’d been raised in a home similar to this one, in Burbank. His parents had mortgaged the place to put Jake’s younger brother through college. Jake didn’t resent that his parents didn’t do the same for him, he hadn’t wanted to go to college, but now he wished he had his old house. A place where Angel could feel safe.

  “We can stay here as long as we need to,” Jake said. “Cutler said there were some supplies in the garage — why don’t you check it out while I try Maddie again.”

  Jake tossed her the keys and watched Angel walk out the back door to the garage in back. As long as there were no busybody neighbors who knew Cutler’s house was vacant, they’d be okay, Jake figured. Besides, he wasn’t being hunted; Angel was the one in danger.

  He called Cutler. “Thanks for the house.”

  “It’s temporary,” Cutler said.

  Perhaps. But Jake realized that if he was going to be part of Angel’s life, she needed a safe and permanent place.

  But that was later. He said, “Did Maddie call?”

  “Yes, and I know it was my idea for you to bring her in, but I don’t know anymore.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She’s angry and worried. She got your message, but she’d also heard about Angel — she knows Angel’s your daughter. Maddie Burke isn’t stupid, she put two and two together.”

  “You didn’t tell her where I am?”

  “No — because I don’t know where you are.”

  Jake had to give Cutler credit for being a smartass. “Where is she?”

  “Call her cell phone, she’s waiting for you. Be careful.”

  “I didn’t know you cared.”

  “You’re my best guy, Jake, the only one I trust
not to stab me in the back.”

  Jake cut Cutler off and called Maddie. She answered on the first ring.

  “Jake, what’s going on? I got your message and then Cutler wouldn’t tell me anything. Is it true that your daughter is in trouble? That she was involved in a gang shooting?”

  “Yes, and no.”

  “What the hell, Jake?”

  “Yes, she’s in trouble — but the G-5 gang is trying to kill her. We need your help.”

  “I know what’s going on — the best thing you can do for Angel is bring her in. I’ll meet you at my office, we’ll take her to the main precinct, get her arraigned quickly, and — ”

  “Listen. G-5 has a cop or an attorney on the take. Angel isn’t safe in custody.”

  “You’re being paranoid. She’s wanted for killing a police officer!”

  “She’s the target.” Jake rubbed his eyes. “I need you to trust me.”

  “Jake, you’re putting me in a tough position here.”

  “Never mind.”

  “No — no, I want to help.”

  Jake was on the fence. He wanted to trust Maddie — she’d been a rock during his plea negotiations — but she didn’t know Angel, she didn’t know the whole story.

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  No way was he telling her. He needed her, but he didn’t completely trust her. “I’ll pick you up.”

  “Jake — ”

  “Angel was nearly killed twice last night. I’m not putting her in further danger. When you hear the whole story, you’ll agree with me.”

  “Working outside the system didn’t help you before,” she said.

  “Meet me at the Observatory.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to make sure I can trust you.”

  “That hurts.”

  “It’s not for me, Maddie, it’s for my daughter.”

  “You never talk about her, and now it’s my daughter this and Angel that.”

  “You sound jealous.” If only. Maddie was far out of his league.

  “I can be there in twenty minutes.” She hung up.

  Angel was standing in the dining room, sleeping bags on the floor next to her. “I need to go,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  She didn’t ask where or why. Jake couldn’t read her expression. “I’m picking up Maddie and bringing her here.”