by DiAnn Mills
“Every reporter I’ve met is all about getting the story.”
“I thought novelists stayed holed up in their writing cave, drinking gallons of coffee, existing on fast food, and avoiding the world.”
Ryan laughed. “None of that fits Kariss. She’s never behaved like that.”
“Right. My concern is she’ll get too sure of herself. I heard her say she doesn’t own a gun, and I’m assuming she wouldn’t lie about it.”
“Don’t even go there. But if she pursues a CHL, there’s nothing you can do.”
“If I could find a way to stop her from that venture I’d have already done it.” Tigo zipped down Highway 290. “Hadn’t even thought she’d be stupid enough to arm herself so she could venture into the bad side of town. I can see having a gun in her home, but not in her purse.”
“Just try to think like a fiction writer out for a story who might be afraid,” Ryan said.
“Don’t want to go there either. Would you call the hospital and check on Jo-Jack? I want to move him as soon as he’s able to travel.”
Ryan punched in the number, and Tigo listened.
“You’ve got to be kidding. Anyone see him leave?”
Tigo knew exactly what had happened. He palmed the steering wheel and waited for Ryan to end the call. “Our pal left the hospital?”
“Sure did. Sometime between nine-thirty and ten-fifteen. According to the police officer on duty, an orderly wheeled Jo-Jack out of his room and onto an elevator. Great. We make all the arrangements to save his neck, and he takes off. Worse yet, we never got a word out of him. I take that back. He told you a man by the name of ‘Bat’ was involved. Somebody with money.”
“Another hole in this case. Jo-Jack won’t last long on the streets. We lost Candy, and I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before we lose Jo-Jack too.”
“Unless he has someplace to hide out and doesn’t want us to know where.”
“But who helped him leave? Maybe he’s trying to cut a deal with the Arroyos by feeding us bad information while setting us up.” Tigo needed a shot of espresso to give his brain a jolt.
“Do you think he’s smart enough to put together a plan like that?”
“He’s lived enough years on the streets to know how to make things happen. But needing a fix could make him careless.”
Ryan shook his head. “Looks like we’re in the market for another informant.”
Kariss and Vicki exited the maternity boutique with purchases in hand. Kariss loved what they’d found. She loved being able to help her sister even more.
“You shouldn’t have bought both outfits while I was in the ladies’ room,” Vicki said. “You don’t play fair. Never have, as well as I can remember.”
“They looked terrific on you. Your colors too.” She took a quick look at Vicki’s short, curly hair that matched her dark brown eye color. “Pregnancy has brought out your beauty.” Reminding Kariss of how Vicki used to look BW — Before Wyatt.
“Thanks. I appreciate it. Hard to imagine myself big enough to wear them.”
“We should start a scrapbook, label it ‘before and after.’ Videos too. Have you made a decision to move in with me?”
“I’m thinking about it. But here’s my out. If I start to get on your nerves, then tell me and I’ll move.”
“We shared a room as kids, and we always got along.”
“We didn’t have a baby. That brings me to another point. If this works out between us, I’ll be able to pay off all my bills, and then the baby and I can move to a two-bedroom apartment. It’s important to have a home for my child, not mooch off my little sis.”
“We’ll see. I know how you feel, and I’d be the same way. Maybe you could live with me until you’re able to buy a house. Wouldn’t that be grand?”
Vicki shrugged. “Sounds like a dream, but it has a lovely ring to it. I’m hoping Wyatt agrees to child support without taking him to court. That will help.”
Kariss bit her tongue to keep from voicing her opinion about the man who’d stolen Vicki’s heart then broken it.
Vicki clutched Kariss’s arm. “Maybe I’m on hormonal overload, but there’s a woman who’s followed us for the past two blocks. Looks like she waited for us while we shopped in the last store.”
A twinge of fear crept through Kariss. The Arroyos ranked at the top. “Would Wyatt have someone follow you?”
“You mean to check if I was seeing another man?”
“Exactly.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. Or his live-in could have me followed. She might not appreciate her baby and mine being less than a year apart.”
Kariss stopped in front of a coffee shop. “I need a latte. Do you mind ordering while I ask the lovely lady behind us what she’s up to?”
Vicki’s eyes widened. “This could be a coincidence.”
Kariss turned to view the woman in question. Black hair … Hispanic. Lots of makeup. Rough looking. Maybe Kariss’s bravado needed an adjustment. “Trust me, if Wyatt is behind this, we’re going to end it right here.”
“Then I’m not leaving you,” Vicki said.
Great. Now what should she do?
Vicki walked to the woman behind them. “Hey, why is it every time I look around, you’re there?”
The woman cursed. “Free country. I go where I want.”
Kariss caught sight of the tattoo on the woman’s arm. Possibly a gang sign.
“Did Wyatt send you?” Vicki said.
“Vicki, I’ll handle this,” Kariss said.
The woman, whose mascara, smeared in the heat, made her look like a raccoon, peered at Kariss. “You have no idea who you two are messing with.”
“Oh, really? Want to enlighten us? Better yet, who’s paying you to tail us?”
But Kariss did have an idea. Pulling out her phone, she pressed in 9-1 while snapping the woman’s picture. The woman grabbed for Kariss’s phone, then pushed her onto the sidewalk when Kariss wouldn’t let it go and raced away.
“Are you all right?” Vicki’s frantic voice stopped Kariss from rising to her feet and chasing the woman.
“I’m good, and I still have my phone.”
“Too late for 9-1-1.” Vicki’s voice trembled.
“Doesn’t matter. I got her pic.”
CHAPTER 21
Tigo and Ryan drove through a sleazy section of town. Most Houston residents had no idea such degradation existed in their own city. Drugs, prostitution, gun smuggling, human trafficking — name it and it was there along with the smell of greed and desperation. Survival meant gang membership, and the average lifespan for males ranged in the mid-twenties.
“I told my sister what was going on in our city, but she didn’t believe me,” Ryan said.
“Did you offer a drive-through? Let her see gangs in action?”
“Yeah, but she declined after my wife filled her in on a few of my stories. But I don’t tell my wife everything, or she wouldn’t let me out of the house in the morning.”
“Another reason why I’m not married. Not so sure I could put a woman through my method of solving crimes.”
They stopped at a traffic light. Graffiti covered buildings on both sides. A young black woman walked past, her short, tight skirt revealing every inch of her body from the waist down. A skinny dog crossed the street in front of them.
“I use to think I held the record for slipping in and out of tight spots unscathed,” Ryan said. “Then you came on board, and now my adventures look like a weenie’s attempt.”
“You have a family, and I’m married to risks.”
Ryan nodded. “My family means everything to me. My job is to keep their world safe, which means taking risks. Tigo, someday you’re going to fall hard, and when it happens, you’ll see life from a different perspective.”
“So you think I’ll step down from my title as FBI’s daredevil?”
“No. You’ll be worse. It’s all about the love of family. That’s why I have no problem going deeper into the
gangs to end the crime.”
“We’re a team. Know what? Someday I’d like to train other agents at Quantico. Take what I’ve learned and show them how to stay alive and bring in bad guys.”
“You’d be good. I’ve seen you work with new agents.”
The light changed, and Tigo drove through, his eyes taking in everything that moved. He wondered if a woman would ever be his motivation instead of his panoramic, save-the-world syndrome. This part of his life and his ill mother were the reasons why he remained single.
“I’ve been meaning to ask. How’s your mother?”
How much did he say? Ryan and Linc were his closest friends, and even Linc didn’t know how serious her condition was. “She has days, possibly hours, left.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why burden you with my problems?”
Ryan let out a heavy sigh. “We’re friends, and that means we aren’t too macho to talk about the junk in our lives. Don’t ignore the stats. We all need to vent the stuff that might interfere with our jobs … or our judgment.”
“Yes, Pops. I’ll keep your advice in mind.” Tigo understood Ryan’s lecture. “Hey, Mom’s physical condition has made me jumpy … irritable for a long time. I apologize for allowing it to step between what we do. She was a wonderful mother, raised me single-handedly. Her wisdom stopped me from ruining my life.”
“How’s that?”
Tigo rubbed his chin, understanding Ryan was being a textbook-perfect partner. “While in high school, I started running with the wrong crowd. Things got worse. I was the guy in charge. Got my rear into trouble too many times. I even looked at getting involved in a gang. Once, while sitting in jail and waiting for her to bail me out, she chose to visit instead. Oh, man, she lectured me for two hours then told me to rot because she refused to post bail. I walked out of there five days later and changed my ways.”
Ryan laughed. “Now I know why you’re able to think like a bad guy. What’d she tell you?”
“I’ll tell you during our next therapy session.” His cell was ringing, and he looked at the caller’s name. “I wonder what kind of mess she’s gotten herself into this time?”
“Must be Kariss.”
Tigo chuckled and turned his attention to the call. “What’s going on?”
“Somebody’s been tailing me and my sister at the Galleria.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I confronted the woman, and she threatened me. Pushed me down. She didn’t fit the type of woman here. Dressed in black. Nasty looking.”
His internal alarms sounded. “Kariss, are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
He needed to see her to be sure. Hadn’t she been through enough? “Did she say anything?”
“Told me I didn’t know who I was messing with. Wanted my phone in a bad way. I think she thought I was trying to call 9-1-1.”
“Were you?”
“Uh-huh. And taking her pic. Which I got, along with fingerprints.”
“Good job. Are you heading back to the office?”
“I have a few errands to run. I could be there around four-thirty.”
“Wait for me there. We need to talk. I don’t like this, Kariss. The Arroyos might be on to you.”
“The woman could have been someone my ex-brother-in-law hired. My sister is having a few problems with him.”
“Okay. Be safe. I’ll see you later, and we’ll talk about it.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Sure hope that was nothing. She caught a woman following her and her sister at the Galleria. But our girl snapped a pic.”
“Tigo, Kariss is under your skin.”
“Right. Like a splinter.”
“Keep telling yourself she isn’t wiggling into your heart, and you might believe it.”
“You’re way off base, Ryan.” If and when he was ever interested in a woman, she wouldn’t be an over-anxious writer who couldn’t stay out of trouble. “We’re almost to Hershey’s little establishment.”
“Go ahead. Change the subject. I’ll play. I’ve been thinking about his daughter. How did she manage to rise above the culture?”
Tigo eased to a stop in front of a building converted from a gas station to a gun shop. Both businesses sold fuel. Windows were boarded, but the Discount Guns sign above the door indicated what went on inside. “I think his daughter was smart enough to see she had no future here. Instead of capitalizing on what area of crime she wanted to earn her living with, she decided to get out.”
“Any validity there?”
“Yeah. She’s the real deal. Squeaky clean. She has a younger brother who’s doing time for armed robbery. Another victim of the whole subculture thing. Before his incarceration, she paid for rehab and counseling and brought him to her part of town. But nothing worked. His DNA spells trouble. When Hershey’s daughter isn’t working with children at MD Anderson, she’s volunteering with kids at her church.”
“Someone influenced her.”
“A priest. Okay, let’s go see how our man feels about his daughter.”
The two men exited the car and walked to the gun shop, their sidearms evident in their waistbands. A couple of black men stood outside. No doubt there to defend Hershey’s honor. Ryan pressed the call button to release the door lock. When it opened, they stepped into a shadowy area filled with every type of weapon.
“Put your guns on the counter or both of you are dead men. Now.”
CHAPTER 22
“Flip on the lights, Hershey,” Tigo said. “This is your friendly FBI, and we need to talk. Unless you’d rather we haul you in for questioning.” He saw the man standing near the rear entrance. No doubt considering whether to escape or face the agents.
Lights flickered. Hershey took slow steps toward them and laid a rifle across the counter. He couldn’t be over fifty-five, but he looked twenty years older. Drugs and hard living had sliced into his face. “What can I do for you? My permits are up to date.”
“We’re looking for who might be supplying the Arroyos,” Tigo said. “Thought you could help us.”
“I run a legit business here. You know that.”
“Straw men have ways of covering their tracks.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Right.” Tigo glanced around the shop to make sure they were alone. “The problem is several shipments of AK-47s into Mexico supposedly came from this gun shop. Got the serial numbers if you’d like to see them.”
“Don’t know a thing about it. What my customers do with the guns they buy here is none of my business. Now if you’ll leave, I have things to do.”
Ryan walked around the shop, examining hand guns. “Where’s the prices on these?”
“I have ‘em in my head.”
“I bet that makes bookkeeping a pain.”
“I’m a smart man. I have good records. You can check ‘em out with a subpoena.”
“I think I will.” Ryan picked up a 9mm. “Do your customers use their names?”
Hershey scowled. “What do you think? I’d be shut down if I didn’t follow the law.”
Tigo leaned on the display case. He held more than one ace with Hershey. “I talked to your daughter the other day.”
His left eye twitched. “I don’t have a daughter.”
“Hershey, we know better. Does Cheeky?”
His eyes hardened. “What does my daughter have to do with anything?”
“Looks like the hospital where she works has a problem with someone stealing pain meds.”
“My girl doesn’t mess with drugs. She doesn’t do them or deal them.”
“We’re thinking she’s involved.” Tigo refused to release the pressure. “She could route those drugs right through her daddy’s gun shop. With the gang activity lately, the Arroyos could use some pain meds.”
“Get out of here. Don’t be involving my daughter in something illegal. When she left here, she left all of it behind.”
“When’s the last
time you saw her?” Tigo said.
“Seventeen years ago. She thinks she’s better than me ‘cause she got herself some education. Maybe that’s good. Keeps her out of this part of town.”
“Oh, does it?” Tigo caught Ryan’s eye. “That’s not what we heard. Is it?”
“Nope,” Ryan said. “Got the warrant for her arrest on my desk.”
“What do you want? I have no idea where the Arroyos are getting their guns. Mine are accounted for, and I don’t know a thing about missing drugs at any hospital.”
Tigo shook his head. “I’d hate to mention her as a person of interest considering who her father is. Makes her look guilty.”
Hershey nearly came across the display case. “Keep my daughter out of this.”
“Then give us the information we need.” Tigo wanted Cheeky stopped, and he didn’t care about the cost.
Hershey’s face reddened. “I don’t know nothing.”
Tigo pressed his lips together and bore his gaze deep into the man’s eyes. “Names, Hershey. We’ll make sure your daughter’s not involved in the drug investigation.”
“You mess with Cheeky and you lose your head.”
“That’s your final word? Think about your daughter. You know … we could make this worth your while.”
“Get out of my business and leave me alone.”
“We haven’t mentioned the units you’re building to transport drugs and weapons. Guess we can handle that when we return with a search warrant.”
Tigo nodded at Ryan, and they walked to the door. Four, three, two, one. Tigo touched the door.
“Okay. Okay. But how are you going to explain to those outside that I’m not cooperating?”
“We’ll handle it,” Tigo said.
Hershey’s jaw clenched. “Word is one of yours is on the Arroyos’ list.”
“What for?”
“Killing three of them.”
Those bullets had Tigo’s name on them. “Then they need to be afraid, don’t they?”
“Since when are any of them afraid of cops or the FBI? Right now they’re edgy. Looking for revenge. And since someone is letting you guys know when transports are headed across the border, they’re losing money.”
