The Witness (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Style, Linda

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss. My name is Horatio Algier,” the man announced in a booming orator’s voice.

  “Officer Carlton told me you might be able to answer a couple questions for me.”

  His eyes lit at the mention of Abby’s name.

  “I’m trying to find a boy named Tommy Ramirez.”

  “Ah, Tomás. He isn’t in any trouble, is he?”

  “No. I just need to ask him a few questions. Do you know where I might find him?”

  “He’s a good boy,” Algier said. “You might find him at the new center they’re putting up…ah, I forget the name.”

  “La Frontera. I’ve been there. He hasn’t been around for a couple weeks.”

  The man gazed off into space and Crista wondered if she’d lost him. Then he said, “He goes to see his brother sometimes.”

  “And where does his brother live?”

  “Tomás lived with his brother until the older boy got into some trouble a while back. He goes to the prison to see him.”

  “Do you know his brother’s name?”

  “Pedro,” the man said. “Pedro Castillo, I think. Different fathers.”

  Pedro. Pedro Castillo was Tommy’s brother! Crista felt as if she’d hit the mother lode. Tommy would have had access to Pedro’s gun, and he’d gone missing right after the Encanto shooting.

  The good feeling faded as fast as it came. The thought of a boy as young as Tommy being in a gang made her sick. And when he heard, Alex would be devastated. But maybe Tommy wasn’t involved? Maybe he’d given the gun to someone else…or sold it?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CRISTA’S FINGERS clenched the steering wheel, her nerves tingling as if they were on the outside of her skin. The mixture of anticipation and apprehension made her edgy.

  She had a good solid lead and it was only a matter of time before she had a suspect. Englend should be pleased about that. But still she grew more anxious the closer she got to the station. Even with a new lead, she dreaded a confrontation with Englend. She didn’t trust him.

  Driving into the parking garage, her senses went on red alert. She glanced at the stall where the truck had been earlier. Empty.

  She went inside and headed directly to Englend’s office. He was sitting at his desk, reading the paper and drinking coffee.

  “Excuse me, Captain.”

  Glancing up, his eyebrows rose in question. “Yes.”

  “I just wanted to update you on the Encanto case.”

  He waved a hand. “You’re too late, Santiago. I put Fontanero on it last Friday, and this morning we have a suspect in custody. You can give Fontanero any information you have.”

  Crista looked up and saw Eddie Fontanero sitting at Pete’s desk. How could Englend do that to her? She clenched her hands into fists and gritted her teeth. Either Fontanero had inside information, or he’d made an arrest to appease the powers that be.

  “He’ll be here till Pete returns.”

  Her anger abated a little. At least he hadn’t replaced her. “Who’s the suspect?”

  The captain picked up a file on his desk. “A punk named Marco Torres.”

  Marco? She’d just spoken to Marco Friday morning. And she hadn’t found any evidence to implicate him in the crimes. He wasn’t even a gang member anymore. Where was Fontanero getting his information? “What’s the evidence?”

  “The gun. The slime had it in his possession.”

  Stunned, Crista held on to the back of the chair. How could that be? According to NCIC, the gun used in the Encanto case was the same gun used by Pedro Castillo in a crime three years ago. And according to records, that gun had never been found. Since she’d talked to Horatio, she’d been going on the assumption that Tommy might know where his brother stashed the weapon, and had either used it, given it away or sold it to someone else.

  She’d thought if she could trace the gun, she’d have her suspect. But she never expected the perp to be Marco. Yes, he’d been friends with Pedro and both of them had been members of the Pistoles. Had Pedro or Tommy given Marco the gun? Had Marco used it against Alex?

  “What’s the motive?”

  “Pistoles’ turf war.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Not when Del Rio was at the scene of two shootings. That makes him a target in my mind.”

  “You have evidence to support that theory?”

  She didn’t have squat. “No, I don’t.”

  “Then the case is closed as far as you’re concerned. Fontanero will handle it from here.”

  Yeah. Marco would be convicted and that would be it. Except that if Marco wasn’t the right suspect, Alex and Sam might still be in danger. Her mind spinning, she stormed from Englend’s office, went to her desk and gathered everything she needed. Fontanero stared at her, as if waiting for her to say something, but she simply nodded. She was going to finish what she started whether Englend wanted her to or not.

  An hour later, she was at the Huntsville prison. Another hour later, after all the paperwork had been completed, she entered the visitor’s room. Castillo was sitting on the other side of the glass, and his gaze raked over her like she was something delectable he wanted to have for breakfast. Why not? He had no idea who she was or why she was here.

  “Good morning. I’m Detective Santiago,” she said, getting right to the point.

  The lust in his eyes switched off. “Too bad for you.”

  “I’m investigating a case and I’m looking for information—information I think you might have.”

  Pedro was a swarthy young man with well-developed biceps and several tattoos running the length of both arms. One tattoo was of Our Lady of Guadalupe and another was the praying hands, which supposedly asked forgiveness for crimes committed. She never understood that. Did criminals really think asking for forgiveness absolved them?

  The man’s gaze turned lecherous again. “What’s in it for me?”

  “The case I’m working on involves your brother Tommy.”

  She saw him flinch. “Is Tommy in trouble?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know, which is why I’m here.”

  He didn’t respond, so she went on, telling him what she could about the shootings and that Tommy had been hanging around La Frontera, but had gone missing about the same time as the shootings. “The gun you used in the robbery three years ago is the same gun used in the drive-bys. And since yours was never found, that leads us to believe that Tommy might be involved and was using your gun.”

  He stared at her incredulously, so she added, “If you gave your gun to someone else, a friend, maybe, tell me now and your brother won’t be picked up.”

  Pedro gave a wicked laugh. “I don’t know where you’re getting your information, chica, but my gun couldn’t have been used in those shootings.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because the police took it.”

  Crista blinked. “The gun you used was impounded?”

  “If that’s what you call it—yeah. They impounded it.”

  She tried to remember what she’d read in Castillo’s file. An eyewitness, she remembered that. He’d been convicted on eyewitness testimony. So why would he think they’d impounded the gun when they hadn’t?

  “So,” Pedro said. “Tommy can’t be in any trouble.” He shook his head. “I think you cops ought to get your shit together.”

  Crista was still trying to get her mind around what he’d just told her.

  “Y’know, querida, I’m getting paroled in a few weeks and I could take care of a pretty woman like you really good.”

  Crista came to attention. “Not likely.” You sleazebag. She stood and, still reeling from what he’d told her, turned to leave.

  “I haven’t seen Tommy in a while. Do you know if he’s okay?”

  Pedro’s question stopped her at the door. Maybe the sleazebag actually cared about his little brother. “I don’t know. He’s been hanging out at La Frontera, but the director won’t let him participate unless he gets back in schoo
l. And he hasn’t been around since the shootings.”

  “Dammit! He knows he’s got to stay in school.” Anger flared in Pedro’s dark eyes. “I’m gonna beat the crap outta him when I blow this place.”

  Frowning, Crista said, “Probably not the best way to get him back in school, but I’ll tell you what, you keep our conversation quiet and I’ll find him and see what I can do.”

  Pedro nodded. “Tommy’s smart,” he said. “He’s got a future. I don’t want him ending up like me.”

  Crista knew what he meant. Her brother had a future, too, and she didn’t want him back in jail again. And like Pedro, she didn’t know how to help him.

  She left the prison even more determined. She had to talk to Diego about Marco. To see if he knew anything that further implicated Marco in the crimes. And she had to get another look at Castillo’s file. Talk to the arresting officer.

  On the way to her car, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number and recognized it as Alex’s. She’d been avoiding his calls for two days and she really didn’t want to talk to him now. After the fifth ring, he left a message. Hearing his smooth voice, she felt queasy.

  “Crista, it’s Alex. I have to talk to you. Please, call me.”

  She closed her eyes. She couldn’t do it. If she saw him, talked to him, she ran the risk of convincing herself she could be something she wasn’t.

  “It’s about the case,” Alex finished. “It’s important.”

  Oh, man. A jolt of awareness hit her. She’d been letting her personal life, her feelings for Alex, interfere with her job. If anyone else had called about a case, she’d be right on it. She punched the call return button. No answer, so she left her own message that she’d meet him in an hour and a half at her place if he could.

  ALEX DROVE around the block three times waiting for Crista to arrive. He longed to see her, but dreaded what he had to tell her. He didn’t want to believe it, but she was Diego’s sister. She had a right to know.

  Finally, he parked on the street in front of her apartment where he could see her pull in when she arrived. As he waited, he noticed an older black pickup truck pull in a few cars behind him. Nobody got out. Odd. Probably someone waiting like him.

  When he saw Crista’s Jeep rounding the corner, he got out of his SUV and hurried to where she’d just parked.

  “Hi. I’m sorry I didn’t return your other calls. I was at the prison and it would have been too difficult to talk there.”

  “No problem.”

  As they walked to the building, Alex saw the same black truck that had parked behind him pull into the parking lot. It idled for a second, backed up and drove away. “You know anyone who drives a black Ranger?”

  Her head jerked up. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “One pulled in a couple cars behind me while I was waiting for you, but no one got out. And just now, the same truck pulled into the drive back there and then left. I thought it might be someone you know. An old boyfriend,” he joked.

  She shook her head, but her expression told him she wasn’t being truthful. Maybe it wasn’t an old boyfriend. Maybe it was someone else—someone she’d started dating recently. His jaw clenched at the thought.

  At the door, she stopped to glance around. “Something wrong?”

  “No, everything is fine.”

  Except it wouldn’t be in a few minutes.

  “C’mon in,” she said as she opened the door. “I’m anxious to hear. Something about the case, you said.”

  He stood behind her as she put her briefcase on the table and then motioned for him to sit. No formalities, no “Would you like something to drink?” For her, this was pure business.

  “Sort of,” he said, taking a seat on the couch. He waited till she sat, too, but she chose to stand, far from him. He cleared his throat. “Word on the street…” Damn. How could he say this without hurting her. Seeing the anticipation in her eyes he knew that wasn’t possible. She’d be hurt no matter how he said it.

  “I recently learned that Diego has been seen on several occasions with the boss of Syndicato Tejano.”

  Shock registered on Crista’s face.

  “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but I thought you should know.”

  When she caught her breath, she said, “Yeah, I should know. I should definitely know.” Anger hardened her voice. “The Texas Syndicate is one of the most notorious jail gangs in Texas.”

  That was true. The TS was known as the most dangerous and far reaching of all the jail gangs, using former prisoners to carry out their business outside prison. Some gang leaders ran multimillion dollar enterprises from behind bars.

  Crista couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “So who saw Diego? And who was the person he was seen with?”

  “I don’t want to say who saw him. I’d be breaking a confidence.”

  She whirled around. “For God’s sake, Alex. This is my brother. I have a right to know what’s going on, especially if he’s in trouble. And from the sounds of it, it could be deep trouble.”

  Alex shot to his feet and started to pace.

  “Who was he seen with? You can tell me that much, can’t you?”

  “All I know is that the guy’s name is Trini.”

  Trini. A member of the Syndicato? The leader? She swallowed a huge gulp of air.

  Yes, she could see it. But Diego, she couldn’t. The TS was known for its ruthlessness. Diego wasn’t ruthless, no matter what mistakes he’d made.

  “You’re right. Even if Diego has been seen with someone from the Syndicate, that doesn’t mean he’s involved with them.”

  But no matter what she told herself, she had a sickening feeling about it. “I’m going to talk to Diego. He’ll tell me the truth.” She saw Alex flinch.

  “If your brother is hanging out with the TS, it’s not safe for you to go there. No matter how well trained you think you are.”

  Crista usually balked at being coddled, but for some reason Alex’s protectiveness felt right. Still, she had to go. “If Diego is there, I’ll be safe.”

  “Then let me go with you. For moral support if nothing else.”

  Without hesitation, she shook her head. “No. You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re a civilian and I can’t put you in danger. Besides, Diego wouldn’t talk to me if someone else is there.” And she’d be mortified for Alex to see where she grew up. “I need to talk to him alone.”

  “If not me, then take someone else along. Your partner. A friend. I’d feel better about it if you did.”

  Crista’s heart went out to Alex. She knew what it felt like when someone you cared about might be in harm’s way. She knew all too well. “I’m not on duty. I can’t ask Pete to come with me.” Then, to appease him, she said, “But okay. I’ll call someone to go with me. A friend.”

  “Good.” He came over, pulled her into his embrace and held her without saying a word. Crista closed her eyes and tried to draw some of his strength. After a few moments, she pulled away. “Thanks, Alex. I know this was hard for you.”

  “Not as hard as it is for you,” he said. “I’m here if you need me. Anytime. Anywhere.”

  From her window a few minutes later, she watched Alex climb into his SUV and drive off. She double-checked her gun under her jacket and was out the door—heading straight for the barrio.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  IT WAS DARK by the time she hit Guadalupe Street. Dim yellow streetlights lit her way past parked cars on both sides. Rock music blared from open doors and loud voices and laughter carried on the cool night air. A gang of boys huddled on one corner, their body language asking for trouble. Another group of teens sauntered toward them on the other side of the street. They looked as if they were ready to oblige.

  Not her problem tonight. She was here to talk to Diego and find out what the hell was going on. She’d planned to talk to him earlier about Marco’s arrest and find out if he knew that Marco had the gun used in the shootings. Now he
r mission was twofold.

  She turned the corner and for the first time since she’d come back, she noticed how well kept some of the houses looked. She could see the owners took pride in their homes, and she wondered if the Martinez family still lived in the one she’d just passed. They were nice people. Big family. Always willing to help. Always pleasant.

  Approaching Diego’s, she saw the house was dark. He wasn’t home. Fine, she had a key, she’d go in and wait. But the streets were jammed, leaving no place for her to park, so she drove around the corner, parked there and hurried back to the house.

  The possibility that Diego was involved with the TS gave her a determination stronger than anything she’d ever felt before. She didn’t know what she could do to prevent him from ruining his life, but she knew she wasn’t going to let it happen. No matter what.

  Reaching the door, she knocked a couple of times to make sure she wasn’t barging in on something. When there wasn’t any answer, she used her key. It was dark inside and the scent of stale tobacco hung in the air. With the streetlight next to the house on the side, enough light shone through the window that she could find her way around. She decided not to turn on the inside lights, because if Diego knew she was here, he might not come in.

  She parked herself in the only chair in the room and waited. A half hour passed with no sign of Diego. Then another half hour. Okay. She had all night if that’s what it took. She wasn’t leaving until she had this out with him.

  Angling her head from side to side to ease the tension in her neck, she heard a sound on the porch. Footsteps. Then a knock. It wasn’t Diego. He wouldn’t knock.

  Leaping to her feet, she drew her gun and stole toward the door, careful to stay away from the windows. She flattened her back against the wall, then heard a voice. A voice she’d recognize anywhere. “Crista, open up. I know you’re here. I saw your Jeep down the—”

  Crista jerked open the door and pulled him inside, quickly closing the door behind them. Holstering her gun, she drew him into the kitchen away from any windows and standing with her feet apart and her arms crossed, she demanded, “What the hell are you doing here, Alex?”