''The green cards?'' I asked.
She hesitated, then nodded. ''Yes. He told me about a woman who's taking money from these people, promising them green cards, but what they're getting are counterfeits.''
''But those people are illegal anyway,'' I started, and my mother put a finger to her lips.
''Yes, but this cannot be tolerated. They don't know any better, and they're being taken advantage of. I've been trying to get Hector to educate them that they don't need this Lucille—that they can do this legally without repercussions.''
''But it can take a long time,'' Rocco said quietly from his perch next to the island between my galley kitchen and the living room.
My mother nodded. ''Yes, but it's legal.'' Her voice was firm, and I knew she thought she was doing the right thing, pointing these people in what she knew was the right direction.
It was too bad they weren't so sure and took their chances with Lucille instead.
''Have you seen Lucille?'' I asked.
My mother shook her head. ''Hector has been very secretive about her. He doesn't want to tell anyone where she is right now, because he's afraid she'll leave town.''
''Is she real?'' Rocco asked. ''I mean, he's not bullshitting you, is he?''
Before she could answer, I said, ''No, I think she's real. A couple of girls at the paper talked about her.'' I paused. ''So what was that fax I saw?''
''The names of the people who have been scammed,'' my mother said.
''But I saw Hector there that day. He picked up Lourdes. I thought he might have gone back to get the fax, and that's why your house got broken into.''
Distress crossed her face and her lips tightened into a straight line before she spoke. ''Hector asked me from the start to keep everything he told me confidential, not even tell Lourdes. He is afraid someone will find out what he's doing and there will be reprisals. He said the only one who knows he's talking to me is his sister, Marisol, and he trusts her completely. She has helped him get information that I need for my case.''
Marisol?
''Why did Hector beat the shit out of my brother?'' Rocco was asking.
My mother shook her head and looked at me. ''Because Vinny started it. He accused Hector of trying to run Annie down. Hector says it wasn't him.''
''Then who the hell was it?'' I asked, vaguely aware that my hand had started itching and I was picking at the stitches. I glanced down and saw it was even redder than it had been. Damn, it was probably infected.
My mother noticed it at the same time. ''You need to put some peroxide on that and wrap it up,'' she said, getting up before I could respond. She was gone for literally seconds, during which Rocco just shrugged at me, and came back with my first aid kit from the bathroom. ''Come over here,'' she instructed as she took the kettle off the stove and hovered next to the sink, twisting the cap off the peroxide bottle.
This was going to hurt like a son of a bitch and I didn't want anything to do with it, but even though I was almost forty, my mother was still my mother and if I didn't do as she said, I'd be in deep shit.
I let her pour the peroxide over my stitches, and I bit the inside of my lip until I could taste blood.
Within minutes, she'd dried the wound and wrapped my hand in gauze and tape. Now, instead of Frankenstein, I looked like the Mummy.
''So where were we?'' she asked as she neatly packed everything back in the kit.
I surveyed my hand and glanced up at Rocco, who seemed more confused by my mother's Clara Barton routine than anything else.
''So you knew who Hector was when you went to help Vinny?'' I asked.
She nodded. ''It helped, you know. Hector trusts me. He hadn't seen Vinny before, didn't know Vinny works for me. He agreed to forget about the whole incident.''
It would take Vinny longer to forget, I figured, because he'd have to see that shiner in the mirror for a while.
''So what's your next step? Do you have enough to have Lucille arrested?''
''I've spoken to Sam O'Neill and Jeff Parker at the FBI, but because of the bureaucracy with Immigration and Homeland Security, it's going nowhere right now.'' I could see she wasn't happy with that, but it sounded like the right chain of command to me. She hated this, waiting for someone else before she could take action.
The nut didn't fall too far from the tree.
My mother glanced at the clock and picked up her bag. ''I have to get back to my office. I have some things to do.''
I barely heard her as I ran through all the information she'd just given me and mentally kicked myself that I'd promised I wouldn't use it. I wondered if I could get Paula on the phone.
My mother was one step ahead of me. ''You can't write this now, even if you get it confirmed by someone else. We're not ready yet.''
''Does this have anything to do with that warehouse?'' I asked.
I could see her debating with herself about what she should tell me. Finally, ''Many of the people on that list worked at what they called the factoria, which we assumed was that warehouse. They said they were making cardboard boxes there. We don't know if it's connected to the green cards, but it's the one thing the authorities said they could do something about right away. But when they arrived, there was no one there. It was as if nothing had ever occurred there. Someone tipped them off.''
She moved toward the door, but as her hand touched the knob, she faced me and Rocco. ''Neither of you do anything tonight. I'm going to call Jeff Parker and tell him we need to move on this tomorrow. I'll try to get Hector to tell me where Lucille is. I know I can't expect you to sit on a story too long.''
I went over to her and kissed her on the cheek. ''Thanks, Mom,'' I said.
''I owe you that much,'' she said, ''for taking care of the door at the house.''
I watched her go down the stairs before turning back to Rocco and closing the door.
''So now what?'' he asked.
I shrugged. ''I promised I'd hold off.'' I held up my hand. ''There's not much I can do with this, either, right now. You might as well take off. Vinny'll be back at some point.''
Rocco hesitated. He didn't completely trust me; if I was going to sneak out, he obviously wanted to go along for the ride. But it had been a long day, and my body was screaming at me to take another pill and let it rest. I didn't know where Vinny had gone, although my mother's revelation about Marisol knowing what she was doing tugged at me. I pushed my worry aside.
''I need to get some sleep,'' I told Rocco. ''Really.'' As I said it, my eyelids literally started drooping.
He nodded. ''Okay. I guess I'll see you tomorrow.'' He let himself out, and I locked the door behind him before going over to the couch and collapsing on top of it.
I stared at the ceiling, uncertain if I could even move to go get a Percocet. I willed my muscles to be completely still and somehow it worked.
Maybe I'd take up meditation.
Not.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the afternoon turning to dusk. I wondered where Vinny had gone with my car. Or, rather, the rental car. I wanted the things that I'd left in the Accord. Maybe if I asked Tom nicely, he'd get them for me. My tapes were in the front, my scanner was in the backseat; they couldn't possibly have any evidence on them since Rosario was found in the trunk.
Rosario's face drifted in front of my eyes as I closed them, and it turned into the faces of those girls in the mailroom. And then I pictured Dwayne, whom I'd first met when I saw Marisol at the shooting on Chapel. It seemed a million years ago. Why was Marisol there? I asked myself again before I drifted to sleep.
Someone was hammering. I opened one eye, then the other, and stared at the ceiling. It was dark now; the glow of the streetlight hung eerily across the room like a ghostly clothesline. I shifted on the couch—I was in the same position I'd been in when I'd fallen asleep—and my muscles had settled and stiffened, causing me to catch my breath.
The hammering wouldn't stop.
Slowly I pulled myself up into a sitting position.
It wasn't coming from above me, but definitely downstairs. What the hell were those new tenants doing in the middle of the night?
And then the buzzer screeched through my ears.
I shot up, ignoring the pain, and looked down at the street below. Vinny was standing on the landing. I buzzed him in and opened the door, waiting as he climbed the stairs and came inside.
He shook out his jacket—he'd traded his leather one for a basic nylon and fleece—spilling raindrops across my rug. I frowned.
''What the hell's wrong with you? What time is it?'' I demanded, glancing across at the clock on the stove.
Eleven o'clock. Hell, I'd been asleep for seven hours. In the same position. No wonder I was stiff.
''I don't think your buzzer is working,'' he said. ''I've been down there for ten minutes.''
''Well, it worked just now,'' I said grumpily, sitting back down on the couch and pulling my afghan across my lap.
''What happened with your hand?'' Vinny asked, dropping next to me.
''My mother wrapped me up. I think it was getting infected.''
''You saw your mother?''
''Yeah, earlier. She was here; so was Rocco.''
Vinny sat up straighter. ''Do you know where Rocco went?''
I shrugged. ''I've been asleep since they left.''
Vinny leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands across his face and through his hair.
''What's wrong?''
He shook his head.
''Why didn't you tell me Marisol knew about my mother working on the green card scam? That Hector is the one who brought this to my mother's attention?''
Vinny lifted his head slowly and stared at me. ''Marisol? I knew about Hector and the scam, but Marisol? She wasn't involved in that.''
''My mother said she helped get information.''
Vinny's head swung back and forth like a goddamn pendulum. It was making me a little dizzy. ''All I was doing for your mother on this was verifying names.''
''Then what's your connection with Marisol? I don't buy it that you were conveniently around the corner when she saw that body getting dumped.''
He sat back and looked at me for a few seconds before answering.
''It was Lin Rodriguez. Lin hired me to follow Marisol.''
Chapter 31
It took a minute before his words registered.
''Lin Rodriguez? Why?''
Vinny hung his head back and sighed as he stared at the ceiling. ''Marisol and Tony had a past.''
I immediately thought about the phone calls that Lin's sister had mentioned. ''She's the old girlfriend who had been calling them?''
''Not so old, really.''
''Well, yeah, she's young—'' The look on his face stopped me. ''Jesus, Vinny, don't tell me he'd been cheating on Lin.''
''Tony told Lin it was over about a year and a half ago.''
It was my turn to sigh. ''That kid, her kid—it's Tony's, isn't it?''
He nodded.
Shit. They had seemed so in sync with each other, Lin and Tony, so in love. ''Lin thought Tony was lying about it being over?'' I asked softly.
Vinny took my hand, not the one that was hurt, and massaged the palm. ''Yeah.''
''Had he?''
He shrugged. ''We may never know now, will we?''
We both thought about that for a few seconds before he spoke again.
''Marisol wanted money. For the kid.''
I nodded. ''Makes sense.''
''He paid her, was paying her. Lin wanted him to stop. Marisol stopped calling, but Lin found out Tony was still giving her money, supporting her and the child. That's when she hired me, to see if they were still seeing each other, having an affair.''
''But what about Sam O'Neill? What's Marisol's relationship with him?'' I asked.
''They've been together,'' Vinny conceded. ''But I'm not sure just how long.'' He paused. ''Lin doesn't know about Sam, as far as I know. At least I haven't told her. I figured I'd write it up in my formal report, but with everything that's happened, I just haven't had time to pull it all together.''
I thought about Lin and her accident with the bees. ''Do you think Marisol would ever hurt Lin, I mean, besides having an affair with her husband?''
''How?''
''Physically hurt her, like, well, try to kill her.''
Vinny's fingers pressed deeply into my palm as he contemplated that. ''I don't think so, but you never know. I never saw her go near either of them, well, except . . .'' His voice trailed off.
''Except that night at the theatre,'' I finished for him. ''You were there following Marisol, weren't you? She was stalking Tony and Lin, wasn't she?''
''She didn't approach them, but she was hanging out across the street. Like she was waiting for the bus.'' Vinny sighed. ''She was watching them.''
Vinny's fingers were lightly moving along my wrist now, and I was more than aware of how erotic it felt. I forced myself to concentrate on our conversation. But as I opened my mouth to ask another question, Vinny cut me off by shifting around so he could kiss me.
I forgot all about Marisol Gomez, Tony Rodriguez and his fucked-up marriage, and the fact that I still didn't really have wheels. It had been four long months and we were both healing from our injuries, so we took our time.
At some point we'd moved to the bed, so I pulled the comforter over me, watching Vinny get dressed on the other side of the room.
''Get up,'' he said. ''There's work to do.''
One glance at the window told me it was still raining. The last thing I wanted to do was go outside, but I dragged my ass out of bed and put on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a fleece pullover. Vinny was in the kitchen by then, and I followed the scent of coffee.
He handed me a cup and grazed my cheek with his lips. I felt the roughness of his hours-old beard.
''Want a razor?'' I asked as I sipped my coffee.
He ran his hand over his cheeks and chin and grinned. ''Do I need one?''
I was sorry I'd mentioned it. He looked so damn sexy. I shook my head and grinned back. ''I like it.''
Christ, we were going to turn into one of those sappy Viagra commercials if we weren't careful.
''I have to go to work today, talk to Marty, tell him what's going on,'' I said. ''My little mandated vacation is so over.''
Vinny pointed at my hand, which had lost its bandages at some point, but the redness had turned a faint pink, indicating that perhaps it was actually healing. It itched like hell, too, which was another sign it was getting better.
''Can you work with that?'' he asked.
''Yeah. I'm pretty good one-handed.''
He winked. ''I can vouch for that.''
I blushed. Shit, this wouldn't do. ''Where are you going?'' I asked to get us off this track.
''Staking out Marisol Gomez.''
''Why?''
Vinny shrugged. ''Hunch.'' He downed his coffee and put the mug in the sink. I was still only halfway done with mine.
''No breakfast?'' I asked, hungry as usual.
Vinny picked the car keys up off the counter.
''Hey,'' I said. ''Isn't that my car?''
He came over to me and put the keys in my hand as he leaned toward me and kissed me, a deep, long kiss. When he finally pulled away, I was ready to lunge at him again, but I could see he had somehow collected himself and was ready to leave.
''You've got your SUV back?'' I asked.
Vinny nodded, and pointed out the window at it on the street below. ''After the exterminators got the bees out of my car yesterday, Rocco took me to go pick it up. Thought I'd die from the fumes of that shit they used, but it should be gone by now,'' he said.
''Why would someone put bees in your Explorer?'' I asked. ''It must have something to do with you following Marisol for Lin, because they must be her bees.''
Vinny shrugged. ''Who the hell knows.'' But I could see by the expression on his face that he wasn't as nonchalant as he appeared. This was bugging him, too. He took his jack
et off my coat rack. ''I'll call you in a couple hours. We can have lunch.''
Vinny put his jacket on and threw me a kiss at the door. It wasn't until I heard the downstairs door slam shut that I realized Marty might not be happy when I showed up at the paper. But since I had some information about the warehouse and the counterfeiting scam, maybe he would be cool about it.
Dead of the Day (2007) Page 22
