by Shaw, LK
“What are you thinking right now?”
“Hmm, what?” His pacing had brought him back to standing right in front of me. I hadn’t heard him move.
“You had this look on your face. I was curious what was going on inside that beautiful head of yours.”
I wish I could control the flush that crawled up my cheeks every time he looked at me like he was now. Like he had that one day, long ago, outside Ines’ room. His focus was entirely on me and his brown eyes darkened with intensity. Every time he looked at me like this, it was like we were the only two people on earth. It made me want to touch him. Everywhere.
“Oh. I was just thinking that if there wasn’t more to it, I mean if Álvarez hadn’t targeted me, then I guess I wouldn’t need to stay here anymore.”
From the scowl that crossed Victor’s face, he was as happy about the idea as I was. Here we were, talking about kidnappings, car crashes, and the cartel, but that wasn’t what was on my mind. It was not being around Victor day in and day out. It was funny how things could change in a single day. Maybe it was the crash. Or maybe it was that kiss. Yesterday morning I’d been so ready to leave. Today, I wasn’t so sure. I was so confused. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
In the meantime, I’d stay here, and we’d figure out where he and I went from here.
“I guess so. I’ll see what Preston can find about Álvarez. If it’s nothing, then I’ll take you home. I’d rather not take any chances with your safety.”
I was actually relieved that I wasn’t going to have to go home quite yet. Spending more time with Victor sounded much better than going back to my empty house.
Chapter 16
Estelle was right. I needed to talk to Manuel. He hadn’t come by the house this morning. My brother never missed coming to breakfast during the week even if he already ate at home with his wife. After a quick glance at the clock, I picked up my phone and dialed.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Yeah.” His flat, single word response spoke volumes. I should probably be doing this in person, but this made things easier. For me, at least.
“You got a minute?”
“I suppose.”
I bit back the sarcastic retort I wanted to make. This was about getting shit off my chest, not starting another argument.
“From the time I could walk, all I ever wanted was to be like my big brothers. I’d follow the three of you around. Trying to prove that I could do everything you guys did. But no matter what, you always knocked me down. I was never strong enough or smart enough.”
“That’s not true,” Manuel argued.
“It is actually. Maybe you didn’t see it, but that’s how it was. How it’s always been. How it still is. Just like the S.W.A.T. team. It’s gotten tiresome after twenty-eight years.”
There it was.
“What about the team?” He sounded genuinely confused.
“I applied to join a couple years ago. Got almost perfect scores on all the exams and in field training. Guess who was chosen?”
“Jesus, Victor,” Manny breathed out.
“There’s been so many things over the years. I’ve lost count, in fact. Actually, I stopped counting a long time ago.”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
I shrugged although he couldn’t see me. “There isn’t really anything to say.”
Now that I’d said it, it was true. I didn’t plan on carrying this around any longer. It didn’t do me any good holding on to it other than make me bitter towards my brother. Estelle was right. The only thing it would do was put a strain on our family.
“I never realized.” I heard Manuel swallow hard. “I’m sorry, Victor.”
“I appreciate that. But I didn’t tell you to get an apology. It was to let go of the hold it had on me. Well, that’s all I wanted to say. Thanks for listening.”
“Um, yeah, no problem.” His confusion and difficulty with putting words together was almost comical.
I inhaled a huge breath and let it out releasing all the tension inside me. It was actually a relief to have that off my chest. Glad to have gotten that out of the way, I needed to call Preston before Gladstone picked me up for work. My truck was still in the body shop, but I was supposed to have it back in the next few days.
I picked up my phone again.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Victor.”
“I was actually about to call you.”
“What’s going on?”
“I have a deal going down tomorrow night.”
I sighed. “Look, about that. I don’t think it’s a great idea for you to put either of us in this position. I’ll feel guilty and responsible if shit goes wrong. I thought of another plan.”
“What other plan?”
“Álvarez used to own a strip club that dealt drugs in the back room. It’s where my sister was undercover, and where she met your brother. I think we should go check it out.”
“When?”
“Tonight. After I get off work. I’ll come pick you up around midnight, and we can head over there.”
Preston was silent. “You think we’ll get any info there?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a place to start. If not, we’ll figure it out from there.”
“Fine. Pick me up outside of Mickey’s at midnight.”
“See you then.”
The doorbell rang just as I hung up. I grabbed my gun belt off my dresser and bounded down the stairs. My dad let Jonathan in.
“Afternoon, Mr. Rodriguez,” he nodded in greeting.
“You know you can call me Ernesto.”
“Yes, sir. But my mother raised me to call men I respect mister.”
My dad smiled and patted my partner on the cheek. “She raised a good son.”
Gladstone glanced over at me. “You ready?”
“Yeah, let me grab my dinner out of the fridge.”
I quickly returned with my lunch box and we jumped in the patrol car.
“How’s your friend, Estelle, doing? She okay? I heard about the crash from a buddy of mine that works that precinct.” Jonathan asked.
“Yeah, she’s fine. Thanks for asking.”
He waved me off. “No problem, man. I know you care about her. Hopefully we can get a lead on something soon.”
“Yeah, me too.”
I was quiet the rest of the ride to work. My mind drifted to tonight, and the hope that Preston and I could find something to lead us to Álvarez. I only needed to make it through this shift.
* * *
Preston and I were sitting in Pablo’s car outside Sweet SINoritas, the strip club where Ines had gone undercover as a dancer. The clock on my dashboard glowed in the darkness. Heavy tension surrounded us, making the air thick to breathe. I’d parked all the way in the back, in a darkened corner under a broken street light.
“Let me go in first. I was ‘Gabriela’s’ manager. Most likely, word made its way here that she was an undercover cop, so I’m going to have to make sure I can pull off the fact that I had no idea.”
Preston shot me a glance. “What if you can’t?”
“Then I’m in trouble. Give me ten minutes, then come in. I’ll be in the back corner of the bar. If I’m not there, get out and call the cops.”
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”
I reached down and patted my ankle. “I have a weapon, if worse comes to worst.”
He scoffed. “A lot of good it will do you if they confiscate it.”
“Which is why you’re going to call for reinforcements if you don’t see me once you get inside.”
“Fine. Just be careful.”
I nodded and exited the car. A light mist fell and glared off the headlights of passing cars. Puddles formed in the potholes that peppered the gravel parking lot of the club. I stepped over one, the rocks crunching under my soles. My eyes darted along the ground looking for the spot where my sister’s blood had pooled a
fter Alejandro had slashed her face all those months ago. I’d never find it though. It had long been washed away. Rage scored my chest at the memory of seeing her the morning after, the stitches bright against her skin. I shook away the imagery and put my game face on. I was about to test my acting skills.
The faint strains of music filtered through the door, growing louder the closer I got. It was a song meant to invoke thoughts of lust and fucking. I swung the door open and was assaulted by a combination of scents. Booze, sweat, perfume, smoke, and sex. Through the smoky interior, the stage was lit up like a bonfire. Bright lights shone down on the topless woman spinning around the metal pole center stage. Her body gyrated, swayed, and moved to the music blasting from the speakers. Her movements were sensual and meant to seduce.
She was pretty, in an exaggerated way, but my eyes didn’t linger. Instead, my gaze drifted around the place. Few tables were occupied, mostly by gray-haired gentleman wearing expensive suits and smoking even more expensive cigars. The DJ in the corner wore headphones and was staring down at his equipment, most likely queuing up the next song.
I headed toward the bar, keeping alert to any noise or unexpected movement from the few occupants. I moved all the way to the end of the bar and slid onto a stool with my back to the wall behind me. The bartender, Damon, approached.
Time to put my game face on.
“Luis, long time no see,” he greeted while wiping out a glass with a towel.
I pasted on a smile and reached out to shake his hand. “What has it been? Seven, eight months?”
His gaze flicked to my outstretched hand before he threw the towel over his shoulder and reluctantly accepted the gesture.
“What are you doing here?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
I pointed in the direction of the stage. “Looking for some fresh talent. There’s a huge pole dancing competition happening at this club downtown in a couple months. The purse is ten Gs. I thought I’d see if you had any prospects around here.”
“What about your one chick? Gabriela was her name, I believe.” Damon emphasized her name with sarcasm and air quotes.
Shit. I guess that answered that question. I drew back in confusion. “Yeah, Gabby. What’s with the weirdness, man?”
He stared me down, but I kept the confused expression on my face. “You don’t know?”
I held my hands up. “The only thing I know is about six months ago she stopped returning my calls. I dropped by her apartment, but her landlord said she’d up and left him high and dry. Hadn’t paid rent in two months. Hell“—I shrugged, almost abashed—”I even went to the cops and reported her missing, but of course, they blew me off. No one gives a shit about some stripper.”
Damon leaned in, his eyes darting around the room checking for prying ears, before stage-whispering. “Man, she wasn’t a stripper. She was an undercover cop.”
I reared back in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
He leaned back with arms raised in surrender. “Swear to god. Alejandro showed up here one night after hours and sliced her face all to hell. A couple days after that, rumors started flying. Alejandro was dead. She was a cop. One of Álvarez’s top dogs was in the D.E.A.. It was some crazy shit, man.”
I let a rush of air escape. “Damn. Didn’t Mr. Álvarez own this club?”
Damon shook his head. “Man, do you live under a rock or something? He was the head of the fucking cartel. After all that shit went down, the cops raided everything he owned. According to the news, he escaped back to Mexico and is hiding out.”
“How is this place still in business then?”
He straightened proudly. “After a while, it went up for auction, and I bought it. Cleaned it up a little. Called some of the girls and offered them their jobs back. This is a lucrative business. Not as much as when Álvarez owned it, but it still draws in the cash.”
“Wow, I’m impressed. I remember there were a couple of good dancers when I was here last. Maybe one of them will be interested in my offer.”
Movement caught my eye. Preston was making his way across the floor. I waved him over, signaling the all clear. I clasped his hand and pulled him in for a single shoulder bump and pulled back.
“Hey man, glad you could make it. Damon, this is my buddy, Preston.”
The both jerked their chins upward in the universal male gesture for “what’s up?”.
“Pleasure. Let me grab you guys a couple beers. Feel free to chat with any of the ladies. I know a couple who could really use the extra cash.”
“Thanks.”
He disappeared. I swiveled in my seat toward Preston, my gaze traveling over his shoulder to stare out at the place. Even if Damon was the new owner, it was possible some previous regulars might have some information on Álvarez’s whereabouts.
“Everything going okay?”
“Yeah, we’re good. The place recently came under new ownership, but most, if not all, of the same ladies work here. That’s about all I got so far. Bartender bought the place. Said he cleaned it up. Not sure what his idea of that is.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. A young woman wearing a bright red silk robe tied at the waist headed in our direction. Shit. I’d completely forgotten about Michele. I didn’t know much about her other than she was a nineteen-year-old single mother paying her way through college. She’d been friends with “Gabriela”, although Ines told me before she and Brody left that Michele knew the truth about them. I hope she’d kept their secret.
“Hey“—she cast a quick glance in Preston’s direction—”Luis.”
Her caution with using that name told me everything I needed to know. “Michele. How’ve you been?”
“Good. Only about two semesters left of school.”
“Congratulations. This is my friend, Preston. He knows a couple of our mutual friends.”
Despite being half-naked, face plastered with makeup, and thigh high boots on, she didn’t flirt. “Hi.”
Preston nodded. “Nice to meet you.”
Damon reappeared with our beers.
“Here you go, gentleman.”
Preston turned his attention to the beer that was set in front of him, picking at the label with his finger.
“Michele, you’re up in two sets.”
She nodded at the reminder. “I’ll be ready.”
The three of us were left alone again. She leaned in slightly. “How is she? Are they okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Well, with them anyway,” I assured her.
Michele sagged in relief. “I’m glad. It’s been a few months since we talked. She said it wasn’t safe anymore. Told me she couldn’t call me again. I’ve been worried sick.”
Guilt flooded me. Ines had asked me to let the girl know she was okay, but after this place shut down, I let it go. I should have taken the time to find her. “I’m sorry. We do have another problem though.”
“Anything I can help with?”
It wasn’t safe to drag this poor girl into this. I shook my head.
“No, but thanks anyway.”
A song began and Michele swiveled her head toward the DJ. She pivoted back. “Shit. I’m up. Please don’t leave before I’m done.”
She hurried to the back of the stage to get ready for her set while I turned back to Preston. “I’m glad you’re not dragging her into this. It’s too dangerous. It may not have even been a great idea to talk to her,” he said.
I snuck a peek at the room. No one seemed to be paying us any attention. Preston was right, though. If I’d known she was here —. It was too late now, though. The best thing we could do was not come back. Based on the current clientele, we probably weren’t going to get any information from anyone anyway.
“You’re right. We’ll have to come up with another plan. Keep her, and any of the other women, out of this. If anyone here is still in contact with Álvarez, word could get back to him. I’ve already got one woman I need to protect. I don’t need another.”
I passed when
Damon offered to bring us another beer. Preston hadn’t drunk a drop of his first one. Michele finished her dance and hurried back over.
At her approach, we both stood. “We’re going to get going, but it was good to see you. I’ll tell our friend you asked about her. We won’t be back here. It’s not safe. If you ever need anything, though, go to the station house over on Walton and ask for me or my father.”
Michele nodded solemnly. “I understand. Thank you for letting me know she’s okay. I miss her.”
She gave me a quick hug before disappearing toward the dressing rooms.
Chapter 17
The knock on my bedroom door startled me. I was surprised to see Ernesto on the other side holding the cordless phone. I’d been expecting Victor. Considering his flat expression, I wished it was. Whoever was on the other line wasn’t someone I cared to speak to.
“For you, mi burbujita. Your father.”
Annnnd, he was right. Dread spread through me. It had been almost a week since Pauline had called with her drunken ramblings. To be honest, I was surprised this was the first call from George. Usually Pauline lorded over him all her useless knowledge, because she knew it would piss him off. My staying at the Rodriguez house was sure to have done that. Anger at my time spent here had been the only thing my parents had ever agreed upon. My father had never forgotten about one long ago night in particular and made sure to mention it any time I saw or talked to him. Ernesto was probably his least favorite person.
Sensing Victor’s father’s concern, I gave him my best, albeit forced, smile and took the phone.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” he said, kindly.
While I appreciated everything he’d ever done for me, I’d learned long ago how to handle George.
