Julie had the video paused.
“What time is this?” Tip asked.
“I’ve got it set to an hour before the first shift in the morning,” Julie said. “And it runs up to approximate TOD.”
“Suppose she came in earlier?” I said.
“Then we’ve got more tape to look at,” Ribs said. “But Cruz and I checked the tape from the night before. There wasn’t much activity until early morning.”
Julie hit play, and the video started.
“We watched as dozens of employees came through the doors—guards, techs, orderlies, cafeteria workers, nurses, even a few doctors—but none who looked remotely like our suspect. When we got to the end of the video, Julie brought up another one on the screen.
“This is the front entrance,” she said. “It’s the busiest one.”
We watched for almost an hour, and we must have slowed or paused the video ten times, but we got nothing. We looked at the video of the back entrance, and then we ran through all three of them again. By the time we’d gone through it all, everyone was tired and more than a little frustrated.
“What the hell are we missing?” Tip asked. “I know the son of a bitch did it.”
“It might not be her,” Cruz said. “Or she’s smarter than us.”
I reminded Tip that she seemed to be adept at disguising herself, affecting limps, using different colored hair, and even changing her eye color with contacts. “If she tossed on a blonde wig and glasses, and dressed conservatively, we’d never recognize her.”
Tip’s face lit up. “What about red hair, a frumpy hat, and dirty clothes?”
“What?”
“Julie, go back to the front entrance video about halfway through.”
As Julie advanced the video, Tip said, “Look for a woman with red hair, wearing a weird hat and clothes you’d expect to see on a homeless person.”
A few seconds later, I spotted her. “There. Pause it, Jules.”
Julie stopped the video and zoomed in on the redhead. She looked as Tip described her: red hair, definitely a frumpy hat, and dirty clothes. She also wore big, thick-rimmed glasses. Delgado studied the video and then the sketch.
“It’s her,” he said. Everyone agreed.
If I’d had any doubts about the mystery woman being the person who killed Lipscomb and Davids, those doubts were gone. I also pegged her for pulling the trigger on Tiffany and Joel Ford. “We’ve got us a damn female hit man,” I said.
Tip nodded. “Damned if we don’t.”
Ribs looked at Tip and then me. “Our vic, Martin, was terrified of El Terrible. I figured him for a man this whole time, but suppose El Terrible is a woman.”
Julie moved to another computer and pulled up a file. “The reports we have on him—or in this case, possibly on her—never mention gender. In fact, the report says no one has ever seen El Terrible.”
“I think we’re looking at her,” Tip said.
“That means we need to be real careful,” Ribs said. “I saw what she did to Martin.”
Chapter 37
Looking for a Killer
Ribs paced the room. “If we look at it from the angle of drug distribution, it all fits. Everything that has happened is connected with a drug operation, and that means Carlos Cortes.”
Cruz took a big sip from a bottle of water. “Carlos lost control to the Dominicans and rogue bands of Mexicans. He had to get it back or risk losing the city.”
Delgado nodded. “So he built a network of distributors using counterfeit stickers, and then he converted the dealers to pushing meth. And he’s selling the meth so cheap, he’ll control the market in no time.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “Once he has distribution locked up, the rest of the drug market will fall in line.”
“It more than makes sense,” Tip said. “I don’t know why we didn’t see it before. Carlos needs a lawyer for representing his people who get in trouble. Griffin’s a big-name, high-priced lawyer, which makes Carlos’ people feel safe. He’s got the trucker to move his goods, and we know Joel Ford’s brother has been making runs to Monterrey for a long time; Ford’s wife told us as much. We’ll assume he’s been smuggling drugs for a good part of that time.”
“Then why kill his brother?” Cruz asked. “And if he’s been doing it for long, how is it that he hasn’t been caught at the border?”
I shook my head. “Maybe Joel Ford’s brother wanted out. Maybe the pressure was getting to him. I don’t know what happened, but something happened to worry Carlos, and he killed Ford’s brother to send a message.”
Charlie had been taking notes the whole time. “As far as the border—and not getting caught—goes, I’d bet a box of popcorn that Carlos bribes half the border patrol in Laredo. With all the money he has, it wouldn’t take much to buy safe passage.”
“A box of popcorn?” I said.
“I was thinking about popcorn, and that saying just kind of jumped out.”
“I liked you better when you were fat,” Tip said.
I looked at what Charlie had written. “Okay, we’ve got Ford’s brother, and probably others, moving the goods into Texas. We’ve got an army of distributors on the streets. And we’ve got Griffin and his law firm for legal protection. What does that leave us with?”
“Laundering,” Delgado said. “Which I’m sure is where your banker comes in.”
“And storage,” Tip said. “He’s not bringing an 18-wheeler into town and unloading it on Westheimer.”
Ribs slapped the back of Cruz’s head. “The Second Ward,” he said. “We know Carlos has been buying property down there.”
“Navigation Boulevard would work,” Tip said. “All he’d have to do is buy a warehouse or old business, and he’d have a front for drugs. From what we’ve heard, he’s bought plenty of property.”
Cruz got up for coffee. “And let’s not forget protection. We’ve had two snitches tell us that Carlos is protected by men in blue. Ribs and I figure that it has to be Stenson, especially after hearing the bit about Bobby supposedly not knowing about the meth.”
“We need to put that to rest,” Tip said. “I’ll be goddamned if I’m gonna have that fucker out there ruining our reputation.”
“Coop will bury your ass if you try,” I said. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t mind that, but my ass is tied to yours, so don’t try it.”
“Speaking of your ass…”
I shot him a look, Cruz and Herb laughed, and Ribs said, “Don’t worry, Connie. He talks about my ass, too.”
“You men are disgusting,” Julie said, and I high-fived her.
“I’m serious,” Tip said. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“Go on,” I said.
“When we were at Snider’s house, you should have seen the way he looked at your ass when you went to the kitchen. He almost broke his neck turning to stare.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Ribs said.
“It wasn’t a normal, ‘look at that ass’ type of stare. This was the kind of look from a guy that runs around.”
“What difference does it make if Snider runs around?” I said.
“If there’s another woman, maybe she knows something. Guys like Snider tell things to the women they run around with.”
“I hate to admit it, but Tip’s right.” I turned to Julie. “We need everything we can get on the Sniders: financials, phone logs, arrest records, IRS troubles, bank audits. And while we’re checking on Snider, let’s look at unusual purchases, hotel charges, anything that could point to a woman on the side.” I turned to Charlie. “That means look real close at the phone logs. See if he has a private cell phone his wife may not know about.”
“What do we know about the Sniders now?” Ribs asked.
“That they’re hiding something,” I said.
Tip nodded. “He was definitely holding back, but he was good at it. The wife looked ready to crack.”
“She’s ready to,” I said. “I’m going back tomorrow—after he
r husband leaves for work.” I looked at Julie. “Do you think you can have any of this ready for me tomorrow?”
“What time?”
“As early as you can. I plan on being at Snider’s house as soon as he leaves for work.”
“I’ll get it for you tonight,” Julie said.
“And let’s not forget about finding that woman,” Cruz said. “Remember, the one killing everyone?”
Tip stood. “Charlie, you and Herb are good with computers. I want y’all to help Julie. Go through that video and get the best picture we have of the mystery woman. Run it through the FBI’s face recognition database to see if we get any hits. Send it to Harris County and the constable’s office. If we’re lucky, somebody will recognize her.”
“How about Narcotics?” Herb asked.
“No, keep them out of it,” Tip said.
“Why? They might—”
Tip glared at him. “I said ‘no.’”
“What about the media?” I said. “We could splatter her image and that sketch on the news.”
Tip looked at Ribs and Cruz, then back to me. “What does everyone think?”
“By now she’s got to know we’re onto her,” I said. “I don’t see the harm in running pics. You never know; somebody may actually call in a lead.”
“Go for it,” Ribs said, and Cruz agreed.
“I’ll call Roberts,” Tip said.
Herb stood and stretched. “Charlie, it’s going to be a long night. I’m catching a smoke. You comin’?”
“Right behind you,” Charlie said, and followed him out.
“I’d love to be able to subpoena the books to Snider’s bank,” I said. “And we need to find out if there’s anything we can do with Griffin.”
“You can’t go poking around a lawyer’s files,” Ribs said.
“I’d like to put Griffin where a few big rednecks can poke his ass,” Tip said.
“There he goes again,” Ribs said. “Talkin’ about asses.”
I stood. “That’s my cue. I’m heading out.”
“Not without me,” Tip said. “I drove.”
“I’ll cover this,” Ribs said. “See you tomorrow.”
As Tip drove, I thought about what I’d say to Mrs. Snider. Her cooperation was critical. She was the key to this case, but she wouldn’t just open up for nothing. I had to find a way to make her.
Chapter 38
Woman to Woman
I got up early, made coffee, and checked email. Nothing from Julie, which was unlike her. I checked voice mail, too—nothing. It was only 6:00 AM, so I didn’t call her. I’d wait at least half an hour. Coffee was brewing when the phone rang. Caller ID showed that it was Julie.
“Hey, Jules. How’s it going?”
“Sorry about last night. Zach had a school play, and I promised I’d be there. And when we got home, I found out both kids had homework.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted you to miss that for the world,” I said. Memories of Uncle Dominic and Zeppe flooded my mind. They’d come to every event I’d ever had at school, as if I’d been an up-and-coming star. “What did you find for me?”
“I’m not finished looking,” she said, “but from what I’ve found so far, he’s clean. His financials are good. No arrests. Very little debt, and great credit. Nothing jumps out as suspicious.”
“I hate to hear that,” I said. “It doesn’t give me much to go on.”
“I’m not through,” Julie said, “but don’t get your hopes up.”
“Thanks, Jules. I really appreciate it. Tell Tip I’ll call him after I leave Snider’s house.”
I got to Snider’s house a little before 7:30, but when I saw that his car was still there, I passed it by. I circled the neighborhood and parked half a block away, behind a large SUV. The position left me a clear view of their house, but it would have been difficult for them to see me. Mr. Snider exited the house at 7:45. I waited a couple of minutes then called their home phone.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Snider, this is Detective Gianelli. We met yesterday.”
“Oh yes, Detective. What can I do for you?” Her voice was more relaxed.
“I wondered if I could come by and chat for a few minutes?”
“About what?”
“I have a few follow-up questions. Nothing important,” I said.
For a few seconds she said nothing, and then, “I have to drive the children to school. Perhaps when Patrick gets home.”
I wondered if she was making this up. “Do you always drive them?” I asked.
“No. I don’t. But what difference does that make?”
Snider seemed to be getting frustrated. I didn’t want to upset her before we spoke. “How about if I stop by after you drop the kids off? This won’t take long.”
More silence followed before she answered. “All right. I guess that would work. I’ll be home in about forty-five minutes.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
I watched as she escorted the kids to her car, buckled in the younger one, and drove off. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. Something was bothering this woman, and I intended to find out what. If her husband was involved in money laundering—and she knew about it—that would explain things, but the explanation didn’t seem to fit. She acted different, yet the whole thing seemed familiar to me.
Fear was a strange beast, and it came in different forms. I’d been in a car accident, I’d been beaten up by criminals. I’d even been shot in a drug bust. But none of those thing affected me the way the incident had. When that lunatic had raped me, it took everything away from me—all of my pride, all of my confidence. I felt as if I had no control. I felt helpless.
I had long ago healed physically, but I was far from healed mentally. During the first six months, I don’t think I got five nights of honest sleep. Honest, as in, sleeping without telling myself I’d be okay. That, soon, it would be in the past.
I’d been scared for so long that it hurt. And I didn’t know if it would ever get better. I think that’s what bothered me the most—the not knowing. It wasn’t until I talked to Uncle Dominic about it that anything changed. I asked him how he dealt with fear.
He looked at me and said, “I don’t let it win.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Every day I go out that door knowing someone may shoot me. I accept that. I could hire an army of bodyguards. I could wear a Kevlar vest. I could put bulletproof glass in my car. But I don’t. If someone wants to shoot me, they will. Even the president can’t be completely safe. So instead of worrying about being shot, I go about my business. I refuse to let my enemies win through fear.”
After that talk with him, I’d made headway. I practiced on the shooting range. I trained harder physically. I stayed alert. But I also told myself that I was vulnerable. That at any moment, I could be beaten, or killed—or raped. I was surprised to learn that Uncle Dominic was right; after I admitted my vulnerabilities, I started healing. I started feeling free again. I wasn’t fixed yet, but things were improving.
A car passed by, bringing me out of my ruminations. It was Mrs. Snider.
I waited for her to go inside, and then I pulled into her driveway and got out. She answered right away.
“Good morning, Detective. This was good timing. Or were you waiting?”
“I arrived early and parked up the street,” I said.
“You mentioned you had a few questions,” Mrs. Snider said. “Please, have a seat.”
She led me to the same room as yesterday, the small sitting room off the foyer, and she did her best to avoid looking at me. “Would you care for tea or coffee?” Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying, and she looked as if she hadn’t slept.
“I’d love some coffee, if it’s not too much trouble.”
I followed her into the kitchen. Dishes were stacked on the counter by the sink, and two half-eaten bowls of cereal sat on the table. She fumbled with the coffee pot and almost dropped it.
“Mrs. Snider, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, facing away from me and filling the pot with water.
“You don’t seem fine.”
She rested her palms on the counter and lowered her head. “I’m tired, that’s all.”
“I don’t think so, Mrs. Snider. I’ve seen that look before.”
Snider snapped her head to look at me. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that you’re afraid of something. If you and your husband are in some kind of trouble, we can help. We can—”
“You can’t do anything!” She screamed, as if frustration had reached deep inside her and yanked the scream out. She put the coffee on, fixed a clip in her hair, and turned to me. “I’m sorry.”
I cleaned up the table and set the dishes on the counter. “Why don’t you tell me what the trouble is,” I said. “It can’t be that bad.”
She gave a small, sarcastic chuckle. “Trust me, Detective. It’s worse.”
If I was going to get any information, I had to push her. I waited until she’d poured the coffee and sat.
“Mrs. Snider, I saw the way you reacted yesterday when we mentioned Carlos Cortes.”
She tensed, her hands tightening around the coffee cup. “I don’t recall.”
“If your husband is involved with Cortes…if he’s laundering money for him, we can help.”
She put her cup down and stared. “Detective, my husband would never be involved with a man like that. Patrick is an honest man. He doesn’t deal in drugs.”
“Mrs. Snider, I never said what Carlos did.”
She got flustered. “You did yesterday. I remember.”
I waited until she looked at me again. “They’ll never stop. They’ll use your husband until he’s caught, and then they’ll kill him. Or they’ll kill you and the kids.”
She picked up her coffee cup, but her hand shook so badly that some of it spilled. “That’s nonsense,” she said. “If this is what you came to talk to me about, we’re done.”
Bullet From Dominic Page 20
