Smart cookie.
Arcadia has a beautiful old courthouse in the middle of a grass lawn wrapped by the one way street that goes around the square. Seconds had passed since the window shattered, but nothing moved. I stayed low and waited, watching. Cass rounded the corner of the block at a full sprint. A sliver of shadow separated from the base of a giant oak on the courthouse lawn and scurried east.
I shouted through the empty window frame, “That way, Cass. He’s on foot.” I pointed and watched as she ran after him. Moments later sirens filled the night air, still heavy with a heat that would keep us in the eighties through the night.
My knees were protesting and I was ready to stand when a second shadow moved. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing at first, but a dark mass peeled away from the tall war memorial and morphed into the blackness beneath another live oak. I couldn’t decide what to do. Cass was out of earshot and I couldn’t see clearly where this figure was headed. I kept my eyes on the lawn and whispered for Cindy to join me.
“There’s glass everywhere, Maxine. I’m not coming in there.”
I resisted the urge to snap at her. “Call 911 again. There’s a second man on the courthouse lawn. He was hiding - wait. There he goes again. South. Call now, Cindy.”
She backed away and I heard a phone being uncradled and a voice murmuring. More sirens wailed into the night but they were too late. I’d lose this second man if I didn’t hit street level.
I think that’s when I realized just how badly I wanted to be a detective. Maybe even needed it. I was utterly helpless while my best friend was out risking her life for a case I’d stumbled into. In those minutes when Cass was out of my sight, before I heard the gunshots, a tiny piece of me grew up.
But the rest of me was still impulsively immature.
Then a gunshot cracked and an image of Cass unconscious in a hospital bed those few weeks ago hit my brain. Icy fear flooded my body.
A second gunshot sounded.
I ran for the agency’s front door.
HEAVEN’S INTERVENTION
SOMETIMES HEAVEN INTERVENES IN our favor, and it certainly did for me that night when I’d slipped out of the Louboutins and into a pair of trainers. I couldn’t have made it down the stairs and taken off after the second shadow in those heels. No chance.
I hit the grass on the courthouse lawn as the first police car tore around the corner and flew through the square, tires squealing. The flashing lights were disorienting but they caused my man to bolt. I hit my stride as the second car rounded the corner and it followed me onto a side street. The man I chased was nimble, even with a decided hitch to his giddy-up. He darted into a narrow alley, leapt a pile of garbage bags, and hustled between two buildings. I raced after him and had the good sense to stop at the corner for a peek.
He was gone.
I charged into the alley at full speed and went flying as his foot came from a doorway. I went down hard on my hands and knees but had time to flip to my back before he pinned me. Air gushed from my lungs and I sucked a huge gasp when he shifted to grab my wrists. My hair was in my eyes but I recognized him as Big Billy Garcia and although a tiny bit of joy stabbed me because I’d been right, terror overruled it. Being trapped beneath a man and unable to move him is one of the most fear inspiring, rage inducing experiences I’ve ever had. Perhaps it comes from that deep lizard part of the brain where memories of my rape reside; perhaps every woman feels the same way when she’s trapped. Regardless, I reverted to the little girl who’d been pushed down in second grade. Aunt Kay’s advice flashed through my head: kick him in the balls.
I swung and screamed for all I was worth. Given his photo on the cover of Hand to the Throat, Billy Garcia didn’t deserve the nickname of ‘big’ back then, and he certainly didn’t now. He was a scrawny little runt who was no match for a furious woman. I managed to get one knee between his legs and thrust upward. Billy grunted and his hands slipped on my arms. One fist connected with my face and I saw cartoon stars, but I tore four strips down his cheek with the nails from my right hand and landed a solid blow on his nose with my left. He howled and grabbed for his face and I shoved his chest with all my might. He was almost in a standing position and was headed backward when I managed to swing my foot with full force. It connected solidly in his groin and his howl deflated into a breathless groan. Just then, a spotlight illuminated his face in all its agony, and I’ll admit I felt a perverse satisfaction in not only being free again, but also the victor in this little skirmish.
Billy Garcia was curled in the fetal position when an officer approached, weapon drawn. From my position on the ground, I raised my hands but kept checking to see that Billy was still down. Footsteps pounded the pavement and I glanced behind me to see Cass round the corner. She stopped and bent over, hands on her knees.
“That’s. Maxine Leverman. She’s. With me. Arrest him for B&E. And vandalism,” she told the officer through jagged breaths. Then she looked more closely at me. “What. Happened to you?”
ASSESSING THE DAMAGE
THE PAIN DIDN’T HIT ME until we were back at the agency. Kay had disregarded Cass’s order to stay put and marched down the back steps to flip the building’s breaker back on. Yes, that’s all they’d done. I’m not sure what Big Billy Garcia and his lame brain partners thought they would achieve by turning off the lights and breaking a window. Maybe they hoped the weensy little women would run from the building in terror, leaving the doors wide open. I’m quite sure they didn’t expect a foot race.
The place was in chaos when we stopped at the open door. Two uniformed officers and Detective Carlos Martinez were exchanging confused glances while Babby, Kay, Cindy, and Blue simultaneously explained what had happened. Yvette was in one corner, pecking manically on her phone. I guess the adrenaline rush had hit. Cass and I stood on the threshold listening until Cindy noticed us.
She pointed. “Maxine’s bleeding.”
I looked down. She was right. My knees and one shin were a bloody wreck, my sexy dress was in ruins, and my palms sizzled where the skin had scraped off. I was amazed to see red marks on my wrists where Billy had held them. Kay and Babby went into repair mode, hustling me to the kitchen. Cass stopped them and improvised the collection of evidence from under my fingernails. Then my aunts dug in and cleaned my wounds. One cut on my knee was deep enough for stitches but Babby tutted at the idea of the emergency room, choosing instead to sterilize the slash with a blazing splash of alcohol and then super glue me up as she’d done when I was a child. Tears stung my eyes but I bit my lip and breathed through the pain.
Kay bathed my face with a warm cloth and it came away streaked with blood. She examined me for cuts but found only a raspberry on my chin and that my left eye was swelling and turning red. “Ouch. Did you make contact, sweetie pie?”
I nodded carefully. My entire body was pulsing with pain. “Once in the nose, once in the balls, and I slashed a good two inches off his cheek.”
She pressed iced wrapped in a towel against my eye. “All four fingers?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good girl.” She and Babby stood back and took in my clothes. “That dress is a goner, honey bunch.”
“Does the agency have insurance for this kind of thing?”
“Nope, but maybe we can work a little bonus for you.”
Cindy huffed behind me. “I’ve never gotten a bonus.”
“You’ve never ruined a dress subduing a criminal, darling,” Kay said.
“I’ve never had to ruin a dress because I know how to catch them safely. Maybe Maxine needs a course in self-defense instead of a bonus.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Babby said.
“Maybe Maxine needs both,” I said, and staggered to my feet. “What time do we start tomorrow?”
NONE OF THEIR BUSINESS
THE TRUCK SCREECHED TO a stop on the side of the road and the small man glared at Sugar as he climbed out of the truck’s bed and into the cab. “You shot at a cop, idiota.” H
is accent was thicker now.
“That redhead’s a cop?”
“She’s a detective. Killed a man a few weeks ago.”
Sugar pulled on his nose. “Did I hit her?”
“You better hope not.” He put the truck in drive and eased onto the blacktop. “How did she find you?”
“I don’t know. I flipped the breaker and ran back down the alley. By the time I came around the building, she was coming after me.”
“What happened to Billy?”
“I don’t know. Did he get the brick through the window?”
“How would I know? I was waiting in the truck. You were supposed to hook up and meet me.”
Sugar shrugged. “Should we go back and look for him?”
The small man considered. “No. Since you shot at a cop, they’ll be looking for us.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove. “We need to let these women know they’re messing in the wrong business.”
“How do we do that?”
He accelerated. “Get your picks out.”
“Another break-in?”
“Yes.”
“What are we looking for?”
The small man shook his head. “What have we been looking for all this time?”
“Instruments?”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to smash them?”
“You’re going to smash them.”
“Alone?” Sugar asked.
“Yes. And smash everything else.”
“What everything?”
“Everything. Destroy it all.”
“How?”
“There’s a sledgehammer in the toolbox.” The small man gestured over his shoulder to the truck’s bed.
“What are you going to do?”
“Be your lookout.”
Sugar pulled his nose again. “Sounds like I’m taking all the risk.”
“We’ve discussed this. That’s why you’re paid so well.”
“Oh. Right.” He released his nose. “Can you pull the truck over?”
“Why?”
“I’ve gotta pee.”
THE THIRD MAN
GETTING OUT OF THE agency wasn’t quite that easy. Detective Martinez finally got us subdued and split the officers up to take our statements. It was a brick that had come through the window, and the boys had tied a note around it. Quaint. The note read: “Back of Biches.”
Yes, you read that right. There are no Spelling Bee Awards waiting for these guys.
Kado showed up to collect the note and brick, and dust the fuse board for prints. He fussed at Kay for flipping the breaker back on and disturbing evidence, but only gently. I also noticed he was discreetly checking out Cass, probably to make sure she wasn’t hurt.
Detective Martinez sat down with me at the kitchen table. “Tell me what happened, Maxine.”
The man is built like a bull with a wide chest and a head that drops into a charging stance when he’s irritated. His hair is a steel gray in a buzz cut, which makes him look kind of military. If you didn’t know how big his heart is, he might scare you. But I know and had no problem unburdening myself. In truth, I probably over-shared about what I was feeling when Big Billy landed on me and how good it felt to sock him in the nose, but I think Martinez credited my garrulousness to adrenaline.
Cass stood behind me, listening and frowning. She didn’t say a word but I knew she was angry that I’d gone after the shadow without having a clue what I was up against, and that I’d done it unarmed. Not that I was anywhere near qualified to carry a gun, which probably made her even madder. In my defense, I told her it was the gunshots that had sent me out the door. I was worried something had happened to her.
Her scowl deepened.
“Do you want to give me your statement now, or come to the station tomorrow?” Martinez asked Cass.
“If Maxine can stay, it’ll save me from telling the story twice.”
It turned out that Billy Garcia’s partner got away. The gunshots came from his gun, firing at Cass as he scrambled into the bed of a pickup. She asked Martinez to have patrol officers look for casings and other evidence in the area where the pickup had been parked.
“License?” Martinez asked.
Cass shook her head. “Lights were out over the rear plate.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Who’s the third man? I chased Big Billy, his fingerprints will prove it. He must’ve been with Sugar Murphy, who either ran from Cass or drove the truck. So who’s the third guy?”
“Sonny Arellano’s kid?” Cass asked.
“You think he’s hooked up with Big Billy and Sugar?”
“It can’t be Sonny himself.”
“Have you heard of the Arellano family, Detective Martinez?” I asked.
He nodded. “But just because I’m of Mexican descent doesn’t mean I have a line into the cartels.”
I smiled a little at that, even though it hurt. He smiled back. “I just wondered if you’ve come across any of them in your capacity as Forney County Detective, or if you’ve heard the rumors that Sonny is the head of the family.”
“I’ve heard the rumors. You think he’s mixed up in this?”
“I have a weird theory that goes back a few decades,” I answered, uncertain how much to give away. “But I don’t have any proof.” I turned back to Cass. “Are you coming here in the morning?”
“After I get done with Chad. I wouldn’t miss seeing Nicole’s meeting with Blue.”
“That could spark some fireworks.” I tried to stand but found I couldn’t move. I held my hand out.
Babby and Kay were vying for position at the kitchen threshold. “You’re not driving home, Maxine,” Kay said. “I’ll take you.”
“No, I will,” Babby insisted.
From the looks on their faces I knew I was in serious trouble.
“Tonight, she’s mine,” Cass said. She pulled me to my feet and steered me through the barricade. “You can have whatever’s left of her in the morning.”
TUESDAY
VIOLATION
IT WAS NEARLY TWO-thirty when we pulled into the lot at my apartment’s complex. All was blessedly still. After Cass had nearly lifted me into her truck, I’d endured a non-stop lecture on the short drive about putting myself in a dangerous situation without proper training or protection. I think she talked about the training schedule for my concealed carry license, but I was crashing from the adrenaline rush and found myself listening not to her words but to her voice, waiting to see if she’d take a breath. She didn’t and carried on scolding me as she walked around the hood and opened my door. And then she stopped and stood stock still, looking through the truck and out the driver’s side window.
I went from groggy to hyper-alert in a flash. “What?”
“I don’t know yet.”
She helped me from the truck, slung my lucky purse over her shoulder, and supported me as we walked to my building. I saw a form hovering in the shadows beyond the amber bubble of a safety light as we passed the pool.
“Is it the guy who shot at you? Is it Sugar Murphy?” I asked, voice trembling. “How did he find us?”
She was quiet as she took me the long way around the pool. “It’s the guy from Monday morning, when we ran, remember? I see his orange shoes. Does he live here?”
“I didn’t get a good look at him, Cass.” My heart was thudding now, pain gone. “What’s he doing?”
“Nothing, as far as I can tell.”
She steered me up the steps to my apartment and we were on the first level when his voice drifted up to us. Again, that rapid-fire Spanish. Cass stayed between me and him, peering into the darkness, muttering under her breath about the lights on the balconies being too bright to see anything.
“Security,” I said.
“Not when you can’t see what’s coming at you.” When I stiffened she added, “Or if anything is coming.”
We’d made it to the third floor without incident when Cass pushed me behind a corner, dropped
my purse, and unholstered her gun.
“Stop, police,” she yelled, and took off in a sprint, leaving me to peek around the corner. She’d already disappeared and I tried to run after her, but my legs wouldn’t work. Instead, I stumbled to my apartment, where my heart sank. The one place where I’d felt a tiny bit of safety had been violated. My door hung like a broken arm from its hinges and the frame was cracked in multiple places, leaving a gaping maw opening onto a black nothingness. The cool breath of fear washed over me, heightening my senses, and I waited at the threshold to see if I could feel a presence.
Nothing stirred.
I drew a shuddering breath and stepped inside.
SHE’S SAFER WITH US
“THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I was talking about, Babby,” Kay said. They were in the kitchen with the door closed to block the noise of men covering the broken conference room window. Kay was pacing the small space, stopping to dig in the cupboards and then slamming the doors shut. “I swear. Right now, I wish I still kept an emergency pack of cigarettes around. Where did I hide that last one?”
“It was taped to the crook of the waste pipe under the bathroom vanity. I threw it out a year ago.” Babby took a deep breath and settled into her chair. A cup of herbal tea steamed on the table before her. Despite a very long day and the nighttime heat permeating the office, both women looked composed. “I know.”
“She won’t work out here.”
“Maybe not.”
Kay watched her sister through narrowed eyes. “There’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there?”
A Case of Sour Grapes Page 25
