Jackson reluctantly turned and walked slowly back to the Pistolero house. His stump hurt. The prosthetic wasn’t one to run in. As he approached, two police SUVs were pulling up out front, lights flashing. Boyce, Nacho and Danny Rich were standing in the street. Boyce began talking to the officers. What had been a loud, thriving party was now a deserted house. Everyone had disappeared except for Valero and his girl. They stood on the front porch watching. They hadn’t bothered to turn the music off. Boyce turned to watch Jackson walk up.
“Dammit, Jackson,” she said.
“He couldn’t have gotten far,” Jackson said.
One of the officers standing next to Boyce said, “This is Pistolero turf. Someone’s already taken him in. The people that live here are more afraid of the gangs than they are of us.”
“So close,” Danny Rich said.
“And yet so far away,” Nacho said.
Boyce turned and just looked at him.
“What?” Nacho said.
48
After all the reports the night before, Boyce didn’t get to the office till after ten the next morning. Danny Rich, Bennett and Ron Barbieri met her at the top of the stairs. They were heading down as she came up.
“Bennett has a lead on Torres,” Danny Rich said.
“Tell me,” Boyce said as they started to go past her.
They stopped to look at her. Bennett said, “Torres has a grandmother in Guadalupe, so I had her staked out. Just got a call that someone matching Torres’s description was seen going in her back door.”
“I’m going too,” Boyce said.
“Suit yourself,” Bennett said, moving past her.
“You can ride with me,” Danny Rich said. Boyce followed them down the stairs.
A half hour later Danny Rich pulled in behind Bennett and Barbieri a block away from Grandma’s house. The neighborhood was old, tired and run down. Grandma’s house was a square block building. Someone had spread stucco on some of it. Got tired and quit. The porch was a slab of concrete with no covering. Two cheap lawn chairs sat on it. The yard was dirt. A broken tricycle lay off to one side.
Bennett was talking with a plainclothes Hispanic detective who had been sitting in a ten-year-old heap, staking the house out. “Nobody in or out since the call,” Bennett said as they walked up. “We’re waiting on SWAT.”
It was a short wait before the SWAT wagon pulled up. The SWAT team came out, geared up and ready. When the SWAT team went in, they went through the front door. The Hispanic cop started forward, but Barbieri stopped him. “Go in there now, it’s a good way to get shot.”
They waited. Less than two minutes later, the SWAT team brought a man out. It could have been Torres, but it wasn’t.
“Not him,” Boyce said, disappointed.
The SWAT team leader came over to the detectives.
“Man says his name is Eduardo Torres. Says he lives here with his grandma. Doesn’t know anything about someone named Marcelino.”
“It’s his brother,” Bennett said.
“Take him in,” Boyce told the team leader.
An hour later Danny Rich came to her desk. “They have the brother in interrogation room three. Mendoza wants you to interrogate him. You up for that?”
Boyce looked at him. She nodded, shut her desk drawer and stood. The interrogation rooms were on the second floor. They took the stairs. Each interrogation room was sparsely furnished with only a table and two chairs. There was a camera high in the back corner and a two-way mirror on the outside wall. On the outside, next to the window there was a small speaker with a single knob that turned it on and off and regulated the sound.
Bennett and Barbieri were standing there waiting.
“Mendoza wants you to do it,” Bennett said to Boyce as they came up. He clearly wasn’t happy. Boyce didn’t care. She looked through the window. Eduardo was sitting at the table, staring at it. She brushed past Bennett, moved to the door and went in.
She leaned against the door, arms folded, silently staring at Torres. She stood there for a long moment, sending a message. She was in charge of the door. Eduardo finally turned his head to look at her. She stared at him in silence.
Finally, she said, “You know what they do to people that kill children in this state, Eddie?” His eyes widened. “You know what they do to people that kill police officers in this state?” she continued.
Eduardo turned his eyes away.
“You ever seen an execution Eddie?”
He started shaking his head. “I ain’t never killed nobody,” he said.
“No? Well, your brother has. Do you know what aiding and abetting is, Eddie?”
He didn’t say anything.
“If you help your brother, then you’re guilty of those crimes. You may be lucky and not be executed but you definitely will spend a lot of years behind bars.”
“I ain’t got nothing to do with none of that,” he said.
Boyce went to the chair opposite him and spun it around so she could straddle it. She sat staring at him. He wouldn’t look at her.
Finally, she said, “A few days ago, over by Shadow Mountain High School some kids were having a beer party. Somebody drove by yelling calle de rojo! Then they opened fire on those kids. They killed two children. Two children that won’t even have a pathetic life like yours.”
Eduardo still just stared at the table.
“Then those same people drove by a bunch of kids gathered at a Burger King on Bell Road and did the same thing. This time three kids died.” He kept staring at the table.
She slapped her hand hard on the table. “Look at me!”
He jumped. He looked at her.
“Then somebody came back to the scene after the cops had arrived and shot a police detective with a high-powered rifle. You don’t know anything about that either, huh Eddie?”
He was shaking his head back and forth. “I don’t know nothing. I’m a stocker at Safeway. You can ask my boss.”
“What shift?”
“Midnights. I work 11:45 to 6:45.”
“How do you know what days the shooting were?”
“I work six days. Off on Sundays. Kids are out of school then.”
“You live with your grandma?”
He nodded his head. “Yeah.”
“Your brother live there too?”
He shook his head. “Meema kicked him out two years ago.”
“Where does he live?”
He shook his head again, “I don’t know. Here and there.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
He was silent.
“When was the last time you saw him?” She leaned toward him. “If I think you are helping him, you’ll never go home again.”
He took a deep breath. “Two days ago.”
“Tell me about it.”
“He came to the store. He said he was in trouble. Said a cop was hunting him. Was going to kill him. He wanted me to talk Meema into hiding him.”
“What cop?”
He shrugged. “He didn’t say. I told him I wouldn’t help him. He had to leave me alone or I would get fired.”
“Then what?”
“Then he left. I ain’t seen him since.”
“Why would a cop want to kill him. Was it because of the shootings?”
He shrugged again. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Why do you say that?”
“What he said was, me and this cop was working together but now he wants to kill me.”
“Working together? Like how?”
“Hell, lady. I don’t know. We were standing in the cereal aisle and my boss was going to see him standing there yapping at me and get me fired.”
“You don’t know what they were doing together?”
“No, and I don’t want to know. Can I go home now?”
Boyce stood up and looked at the mirror, thinking. Finally, she turned back to him. “Sit tight. We’re going to check with your boss at the Safeway. If it checks out,
we’ll let you go.”
“He knows I got trouble with the cops, he’ll fire me just for that.”
“We’ll explain it,” Boyce said. She went to the door, looked back at Eddie then went out.
Bennett, Barbieri and Danny Rich were standing outside.
“You hear that?” Boyce said.
“What cop is he talking about?” Danny Rich said.
“Probably a load of bullshit,” Bennett said.
“We can check the store tapes at the Safeway,” Barbieri said.
“Yeah, you and me can do that,” Bennett said. They turned and walked away.
Danny Rich looked at Boyce. “What now?”
Boyce was staring off into the middle distance, thinking. Finally, she shrugged. “Damned if I know.”
49
Elena had shut the main bar down at El Patron and given the big Salsa band the night off. She had hired two gigantic searchlights that roamed the night sky from the parking lot. Above the outside door were neon lights stating it was a grand opening.
Elena had also placed two bouncers on the outside door. One on each side. They were both armed, but you couldn’t tell it. They also were both retired Phoenix Police. They had instructions to randomly search for weapons. They opened every purse large enough to carry a weapon. They were gentle, friendly and firm.
Inside and down the hallway a lighted sign above the renovated room proclaimed it to be Rick’s Café American. A beautiful girl in a sparkly evening gown was at a podium just inside the door. There was a sign on the podium that asked the customer to wait to be seated. Reservations only. Elena had named the club after Jackson had almost forced her to watch the Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart movie Casablanca. She had fallen in love with the star-crossed lovers and had cried at the end.
Elena had insisted Boyce get there way early, so now they were gathered in the apartment upstairs. Boyce sat with Elena and her cousin Anita on the couch. They all had a glass of wine. Blackhawk and Jackson were across the room at the short bar that occupied a corner. They both held a rock glass with scotch in it. Elena stood up and went over to the men.
“You sure two is enough?” she said to Blackhawk.
“Ask Boyce,” Jackson said with a smile. “She’s the one that recommended them.”
“Actually, Captain Mendoza recommended them,” Boyce said. “And believe me, they were two tough cops.”
“Nacho will be behind the bar,” Blackhawk said. He nodded at Jackson, “And we’ll be right beside you. It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said when we went out to dinner and the asshole shoots at me. And poor Gabe, he was shot.”
“Is he coming tonight?” Boyce said.
Jackson turned to look at her.
”I don’t know,” Elena said. “He don’t come around much anymore.” She looked at Boyce. “You two have a fight.”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Boyce said.
“Oh, you’d be aware of it,” Jackson said.
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve had fights with you…”
“Heated discussions,” Blackhawk deadpanned.
“And, believe me, it was something you would be aware of.”
Boyce started to speak, then shook her head and didn’t.
“You’ll be safe,” Blackhawk said to Elena.
“What time does the music start?” Anita said.
Elena looked at the tiny watch on her arm. From across the room it looked like a diamond bracelet. “In half an hour, maybe we should go down.”
They all finished off their drinks. “This girl as good as Elena says?” Jackson said to Blackhawk.
“Why don’t you ask Elena,” Elena said. “I’m standing right here.”
“Just asking,” Jackson said, setting his glass on the bar.
“She’s great,” Blackhawk said. He looked at Elena and smiled. “Almost as good as Elena.”
“Nobody is as good as Elena,” Jackson said.
Elena turned and looked at him. “You don’t get off that easy,” she said.
“Let’s go down,” Blackhawk said.
Elena led the way and they filed down to the main salon, then through the double doors and down the hallway to the lighted sign of Rick’s Café American. At the back of the room there was a table for six with a reserved card on it. The pretty young girl led them there and swept the card off the table as they were seated. The place was filled already. The waiters were all women wearing white dinner jackets and black slacks. The bar was to the side and Nacho was behind it looking uncomfortable in a white dinner jacket and tie. His huge arms looked like they could bust out of his sleeves. He was busy. The door from the hallway opened in the middle of the room. On the other side was a three-piece jazz combo behind a small round stage. A microphone on a stand occupied the stage. The combo was a piano player, a drummer and a guitarist. They were playing softly. Boyce vaguely recognized the song but couldn’t quite place it.
She leaned over to Elena. “Why all the way back here?”
“I like to watch the customers. See if they’re having a good time.”
“Having a good time now,” Jackson said.
The dinner-jacketed waiters were hustling from table to table, delivering drinks and taking orders. Their waiter came and took their drink order. Nacho had a helper. A round girl with a big smile. She wasted no movement.
“Where’s Jimmy,” Boyce asked.
“He’s in Ouray Colorado,” Blackhawk said.
“What’s in Ouray Colorado?” Jackson said.
“He’s camping with a friend,” Blackhawk said.
“I didn’t take him for the rugged outdoor type,” Boyce said.
“You are not supposed to judge a book by the jacket picture,” Elena said.
“Cover,” Blackhawk said.
“That’s what I said,” Elena said. She leaned forward, looking at the entrance. “Be quiet now, here she comes.”
The band ended its song and the drummer started a drum roll. The piano player leaned over to his microphone and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the incomparable Marianne!”
Everyone applauded. Marianne swept into the room and onto the little stage. She was a willowy blonde with shoulder length hair and a shimmery evening gown cut low enough to display ample cleavage. She moved with confidence. She stepped up on the stage and took the mic. Without preamble she began: “Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars.” The crowd burst into applause.
Elena leaned back into her seat, smiling. Blackhawk looked at her. He raised his eyebrows in question. The smile turned to a grin.
Jackson was mesmerized. “I think I’m in love,” he said.
Boyce looked at him. “Of course you are. Once a day whether you need it or not.”
“She’s awfully pretty,” Anita said.
When Marianne was halfway through her third song Jackson noticed Boyce stiffen. He followed her eyes to see Gabe and a pretty young girl come into the club. Boyce’s eyes never left them as the hostess guided them to a table on the other side of the room.
Jackson leaned over and said in a low voice, “Contributing to the delinquency of a minor?”
“At least,” Boyce said.
“Maybe you should arrest him before it turns into statutory rape.” Jackson grinned.
She turned to look at him. “Jackson, you can be such a jerk.”
Gabe seated his date and caught sight of them. He leaned down and spoke to the girl. She turned and looked at them. Gabe made his way through the tables to them.
“Why, this is a fine-looking group.”
“Hello Gabe,” Elena said. “I’m glad you could make it. I’m afraid we don’t have enough chairs to include you and your guest.”
“Quite all right.” He looked at Boyce. “Nice to see you, Detective,” he said.
“I’m Anita,” Anita said, her eyes shining. “I’m Elena’s cousin.”
“A pleasure,” Gabe said. “
I see that beauty runs in the family.”
Anita tittered.
He gave a small bow. “So nice to see you all, but I really must get back to my niece.”
“Of course,” Blackhawk said. As Gabe turned away, Blackhawk waved at his waiter. The girl came hustling over. “Send a bottle of Dom Perignon to that gentleman’s table,” he said. The girl hurried away.
“He is so cute,” Anita said.
“Really cute, and so’s his niece,” Jackson said.
“Niece?” Elena laughed.
50
Jackson was asleep on the couch. Boyce wrote a note and left it on the kitchen counter. It said Tired of being babysat. I’ll be in touch.
She decided not to go into the precinct, so she would use her own vehicle today. The problem with city rides was one glance at the license plate and you knew what they were. She took the Miata and headed toward the freeway.
It was mid-morning before she hit the Esteban Park area. She circled the park. No one there, not even any kids shooting hoops. She drove to Spark’s trailer and parked out front. The car was in the driveway. The front door was closed. She rapped on the screen door. It opened almost immediately. Joanie Pilon opened the door. Her hair was sleep- mussed and her face was devoid of makeup. She wore a loose tee shirt and pajama shorts. She didn’t seem to be surprised to see Boyce.
She pushed the screen open and moved to the side. “Come on in,” she said. Boyce moved past her and Joanie let the screen bang shut. She hurried around the room, picking up clothes and magazines. “The house is a mess. I wasn’t expecting company,” she said. She turned to the hallway that led to the back bedrooms. “Annie Marie, Detective Boyce is here,” she called. She put everything she had collected in a pile, off to the side, on the floor.
“Please sit down,” she said. “Can I offer you some coffee?”
“If it’s already made,” Boyce said, finding a place on the worn couch.
“Not a bit of trouble,” Janie said. She hollered at the hallway, “Annie Marie!” She went into the kitchen area and started making coffee. Boyce started to object but then decided to let it be. Spark came down the hallway. She had just rolled out of bed. She was stifling a yawn with her fist. She came over and sat beside Boyce.
The Darker Hours Page 17
