Chapter Eighteen
Despite his wound and the medication he was taking, a combination that should have knocked him out, Drago lay awake half the night.
Despite his doubts that they could find a way to accept each other’s differences, he’d finally admitted his innermost feelings to Camille, but rather than responding, she’d pretended to be asleep.
Now she really was asleep, and he couldn’t simply stay in bed with her any longer, or he might be tempted to wake her by making love to her again.
It wasn’t just sex for him anymore.
But obviously she didn’t feel the same.
So what would be the point?
Stiff and sore after what he’d gone through the night before, he took a painkiller, then taped a plastic bag over the bandage the way the doc had instructed before getting into the shower. Turning his back to the stream, he wedged his hands against the wall and let the water work its magic on him.
He had to face the fact that he had nothing to offer Camille that she wanted other than sex. He couldn’t forget the look on her face or the tone of her voice when she’d pulled him off Huerta. Even though Huerta was a soulless killer and deserved more than a few punches, she had been appalled. With him. It was as if she’d expected he would kill the gang leader. If he’d been willing to go that far, he would have done it long ago. But he’d never killed anyone. And he hoped he would never be forced to do so.
In the meantime, he had to stop hoping that things could be different between him and Camille, that they might really belong together. Justus had been right about him needing her in his life.
Too bad she didn’t need him.
—
It was midmorning by the time they arrived at the office, having taken separate cars at Drago’s suggestion. What was that about? Camille wondered. She had enough to worry about as it was, having no ideas of how to go about finding Sandy. Drago had been acting weird with her all morning. Serious and silent.
You know how much I care for you, don’t you, Camille…how much I love you?
Drago’s whispered words kept running through her head. And she kept running from having to acknowledge them. Perhaps he’d been too smart to believe she’d fallen asleep so easily. If he knew she’d been faking…
She tried to shrug off the dark mood enveloping her. They’d caught “Angel,” and surely Sandy was safe a little while longer until they found her.
When they entered the office, Justus was waiting for them. “Good work,” he told Drago. Then, to her, “You must be relieved.”
“As much as I can be with Sandy still missing.”
“I take it Huerta still isn’t talking?”
“On the advice of his lawyer,” she said. “Jackson texted me an hour ago.”
Drago added, “Now we just have to find the girl without his help.”
“Any thoughts on that?” Justus asked.
“Not yet,” Camille said.
Then Drago surprised her. “Noreen Butler.”
“First, how do you think she can help?” she asked. “And second, how can we even find her again?”
“I was thinking that she might get some satisfaction knowing the man who abducted and raped her was behind bars. And that if she felt safe enough, we could ride around the area where he most likely held her until she recognized something.”
“And you’re going to find her how?” Camille asked again.
“Through her mother. Once I explain the situation to Alleen, hopefully she’ll call her daughter and ask her to come in and press charges. Her identifying Huerta as her abductor will seal his fate.”
“Maybe you should go see Alleen yourself.” Maybe without him around distracting her, she could think about something other than him. “I can be thinking about an alternative way to find Sandy if yours doesn’t work.” Besides which, they’d taken both cars at his insistence. Could be he’d planned to do this alone all along. He certainly hadn’t said much to her since she’d woken up. “I’ll stay here and brainstorm with Justus. If that’s okay with you?” she asked her old mentor.
“Fine by me.”
There was an odd note to his voice, though, and Camille saw the way Justus was looking at his brother, as if he was sending him some kind of message.
Whatever, Drago shrugged it off. “Fine with me, too.”
Neither man looked or sounded fine.
“All right, then, I’ll call the moment I know something.” Drago walked out the door without so much as a personal word to her.
His leaving lightened the load so to speak, Camille thought, but at the same time, there was a part of her that already missed him. Not wanting Justus to question her about it, she put on her good face.
Even so, Justus asked, “What’s going on with you and my brother today? Did you have a fight?”
“What makes you think something is going on?”
“I know you both and neither of you is quite all right at the moment.”
“Probably because we’re both exhausted and frustrated and just want to find Sandy so this can be over.”
“Do you now?”
He crooked an eyebrow at her, reminding her of his brother.
“Um, of course we want to find Sandy as quickly as possible.”
“That’s not what I meant. I was talking about Drago and you. I know about the infamous weekend you spent together.”
Heat crept up into Camille’s cheeks. Justus had been her mentor, but she’d always seen him as a father figure. Well, more like an older brother, perhaps, but still…
“Drago told me you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t. Not until yesterday.”
Yesterday? “What happened to make him spill?”
“His feelings for you. He didn’t know what to do about them.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. The question is, how do you feel about my brother?”
To be honest… “Conflicted.”
“Because…”
“Because we’re so different, Justus.”
“I don’t see it.”
“How can you say that? He’s associated with gangs and now with convicts. He hit an ASA, which is a felony, no matter that he pleaded it down to a misdemeanor. I’m having a difficult time dealing with all that.”
“Did he tell you why he hit Anderson?”
“No.”
“And you didn’t ask?”
“No.”
“Closed-minded much?”
“Wait a minute.” What in the world did Justus have to be disapproving of her? “You didn’t even bail out your own brother. You let him sit in Cook County Jail for more than six months.”
“For his own good.”
“What? You thought that was the way to teach him a lesson?”
“Not even close, Camille. You need a little history lesson to understand. Drago wasn’t even of legal age when he became a self-appointed leader of what you could call an antigang gang. That’s why there’s gang activity in his juvenile record, because of the altercations with Tomas Huerta. Huerta had been trying to recruit him and others who didn’t want to become criminals as members of the Humboldt Lords. Huerta and the scum who reported to him used some pretty harsh tactics to make people cave. Not Drago. He decided he and those who were still resisting weren’t going to be forced into being criminals. Instead, they were going to learn how to fight Huerta and keep him from getting even more power than he had. They were going to make sure the people they knew and cared about had someone to fight for them, too, so they could feel safe.”
“So Drago became a vigilante?”
“He became the leader of a group of vigilantes.”
“You were a cop and you approved of that?”
“Should I have stopped him? Let Huerta force kids into becoming his drug runners and prostitutes? Drago gave the ones who didn’t want to go that route a sense of purpose.”
Camille realized that changed the way she saw Drago, at least in part. She couldn’t put out of
mind the reality of what he’d become, the way he’d pinned Buzzard to that bar by his throat, the way he’d kept battering Huerta, even after the man had lost the ability to fight back.
And what about his hitting an officer of the court? Anderson was an upstanding prosecutor, not a gang member.
“Get to it, Justus. Why did Drago throw that punch at Lucas Anderson?”
“Because Huerta decided to teach Drago a lesson through someone who refused to join the gang. He had some of his goons beat up Rosie Suarez, one of the young girls Drago was protecting.”
Camille remembered what he’d said when battering Huerta: I’m not going to let him hurt another woman… He hadn’t just meant Teresa and Noreen and Susan and Leanne and Sandy. He’d been thinking about his friend Rosie, and who knew how many others.
“So what happened?”
“Huerta was arrested, and it was supposed to be Anderson’s case, but then Rosie freaked and said she couldn’t testify. Drago found out Huerta had threatened the girl’s mother, had said the mother could have a tragic accident, and then Rosie would be alone. In the meantime, Anderson dropped the case, and, of course, Drago tried to change his mind.”
“And when he couldn’t…”
“Right. When he couldn’t, he lost it for a moment and Anderson got pissed off enough to have him arrested.”
“And you didn’t bail him out to teach him a lesson.”
“I didn’t bail him out to keep him alive. I feared he would go after Huerta directly, and Drago might be tough enough for a down-and-dirty fight, but he’s not a killer. Huerta most certainly is. I wanted my brother to live to a ripe old age, not die before he even had a chance to find out who he could be. Drago needed time to cool down. In the can, he befriended inmates who were mostly victims of circumstance or bad judgment rather than violence. Inside, the gangs got even tougher. Drago was Drago. He backed up anyone who was victimized, and they naturally saw him as their leader. He earned the trust and friendship of these men.”
“Like Titus.”
“Like Titus. I’m not saying some of the men he befriended aren’t dangerous. But they’re no Angel.”
Camille realized what stood between the brothers was Justus’s refusal to bail Drago out of jail, even though Justus did it out of love to protect his younger brother. She also suspected that since Justus had resigned from the department and started his own PI company soon after Drago’s arrest, there must be a connection.
“Is Drago the reason for Justus Investigations?”
Justus shrugged. “His incarceration was the last straw for me. You know, brought it home, made it personal after too many years of criminals getting away with their bad acts because the legal system failed them somehow. Drago was already doing it in his own way. I’m no vigilante, but I wanted to see if I could make a difference in my own way.”
“And once Drago made the deal and was released, you convinced him to join you.”
“I figured his being a PI would give him a different perspective. Maybe it would even keep him alive. But he still needs someone to rein him in once in a while.”
The way Justus was looking at her, Camille figured he meant her.
Awkward.
Camille might have a newfound respect for Drago after everything Justus had just told her, but indeed, he was still a wild card. She hadn’t figured out what she wanted to do about her conflicting feelings yet, and she certainly wasn’t ready for a heart-to-heart with her former mentor/father figure about her love life.
Luckily, the office phone rang just then.
Justus picked up the phone, listened for a moment, then said, “Okay, send him in.” When he hung up, he said, “A client. This might take awhile.”
“I’ll do my thinking in the other room.”
Camille passed the client on her way out. She wasn’t in the receptionist area long enough to get a single idea about how to find Sandy before Lois said, “Call for you. It’s Eva.”
Camille took the phone and moved away from the desk. “Hey, Eva, what’s up?”
“Thank goodness you’re there. Why didn’t you call me back?”
“You called?”
“Texted.”
Camille checked her cell phone. “That would be because my phone is dead. I’ve been using it so much I ran out of battery and didn’t remember to charge it last night. Your friend…did you find her?”
“I did. And Isabel is willing to talk to you.”
“Can you give me her number?”
“In person,” Eva said. “She’ll meet you at Café Pena on Milwaukee.”
“I’ve never been there, but I’m familiar with it. What time?”
“She said she would be there at eleven thirty exactly. You have fifteen minutes. If you’re late, she won’t wait.”
Pulse racing, Camille asked, “Can you meet me there?”
“Sorry, I’m on the other side of the city with a client.”
“What does she look like?”
“Get yourself there. She said she’ll find you. And whatever you do, keep Drago out of this, or she’ll never talk to you.”
“Okay, thanks, Eva!”
Tossing the phone to the receptionist, Camille ran for her car. No Eva. Couldn’t bring Drago. Justus busy with a client. She would have to do this alone. She couldn’t believe the luck. One, that she had wheels. Two, that she’d still been in the office when Eva had called. It was no wonder that she’d forgotten to charge her cell with what had gone down the night before.
As she pulled away from the curb, Camille mentally computed the fastest way to get to the café. She didn’t want to miss an opportunity that might help her find Sandy. So she zigzagged down side streets faster than she should, kept one eye on the clock, the other on her rearview mirror, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t see flashing blue lights. Without her star to back her up as being a CPD homicide detective on a case, a traffic cop would never let her go.
She had to get to Isabel on time. This had to work if she was ever going to find Sandy. Had to because she was out of ideas.
As she drove, she wondered if Drago had convinced Alleen to call her daughter, and if she had done so, whether Noreen had agreed to press charges against Huerta. Stopped at a red light, she plugged in her cell to charge. Nothing. It wasn’t working. It made weird vibrating sounds.
“Damn it!”
This had happened to her once before—the last time she’d tried to charge it in the car after it was completely dead. The light changed, so she left it plugged in and floored the accelerator.
Her thoughts went from Drago’s involvement in the case to ones more personal. To the things Justus had told her about his brother. It probably was a good thing that he’d taken off without her. Eva’s warning not to involve him convinced her of that. No doubt as a girlfriend of one of the Humboldt Lords, Isabel would walk the other way if she spotted him. Drago wasn’t exactly a man who blended in with the crowd.
She got onto Milwaukee Avenue more than a block from the café at eleven twenty-six. The lunch crowd was already out, their cars filling the street. She was never going to make it. Seeing a parking spot, she pulled in and ran down the sidewalk and across the street, dodging turning cars. She was gasping for breath by the time she got inside the café. But the big clock on the wall told her she had a minute to spare.
Half the tables were already occupied. She wondered if Isabel was there waiting for her.
“Table?” a young man asked.
“Yes, please.”
Following him to a table in a back corner, she looked around to see if any of the patrons seemed interested in her. And worried that if Isabel wasn’t here yet, she might not even spot her in this secluded corner.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Coffee, please.”
He nodded and left the table. It was eleven thirty, the exact time Eva said her friend would be here. So where was she?
No sooner did she have her coffee than she paid the man. She
was taking a sip when the kitchen doors swung open and a young woman approached. She was dressed in black, and her dark hair was short, shaved on one side, the revealed ear sporting a dozen small loop earrings, an intricate tattoo on her neck.
Assuming she was the waitress, still looking around for this Isabel, Camille said, “I’m just having coffee.”
The woman slid into the chair across from Camille. “I thought you wanted information.”
“You’re Eva’s friend?” Camille purposely avoided using the woman’s name.
“Eva told me about the bastardo who has been taking women off the street and killing them. Now a young girl.” Isabel shook her head.
Camille wanted to say they got the bastard off the street last night, but something kept her from being too frank. Huerta was her gang’s leader, after all. And various gang members were guilty of murder.
Instead, she merely asked, “You can help me find the girl?”
Isabel slid a hand into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which she slipped across the table. “You didn’t get this from me. I was never here.”
Nodding in agreement, Camille took the note and started to unfold it. “Thank you.”
Isabel was already out of her seat. As quickly as she’d appeared through the kitchen doors, she disappeared the same way. No doubt she wasn’t an employee, but had some connection who’d let her in the back way.
A quick glance at the paper and the address instantly burned into Camille’s memory. Knowing exactly where this building was, she would certainly be there in less than ten minutes.
Wishing Sandy could hear her, she murmured, “I’m coming for you,” and left to rescue the girl at last.
Chapter Nineteen
On the ride to the Area North CPD office from Alleen Peyton’s place, Drago tried alerting Camille. Noreen had agreed to come in to give her official statement about what Angel had done to her. Camille hadn’t answered her cell or responded to his message or to the text he’d sent. As a matter of fact, her phone had gone directly to voice mail, which meant she was either on another call or the cell was out of juice. Probably the latter.
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