"Happy to get a job? You're happy when someone offers you a job as a truck driver, or stacking shelves at the market, or sweeping the streets. You don't get to be happy if you’re offered a job to kill a man in cold blood," said Garrett.
"Like I said, I wasn't s’posed to kill him. Well, I coulda killed him but I'm not the best shot. He said it didn't matter either way. It was only meant to be a warning."
"To Solomon? How could it be a warning if you killed him? He can't do anything if he's dead!"
"Hey. I thought you said he was alive!"
"He is alive. I'm pointing out it's a crappy warning if you deliver the warning while ending any opportunity to rectify whatever the warning was for!"
Mikey scratched his head. "Can I get some water?" he asked. "Or some weed? This is startin’ to stress me out."
"No!" yelled Garrett.
"This guy has to be the dumbest hit man I've ever seen," said Maddox.
"How many have you seen?" I asked.
"A few. The Finklesteins were my favorites," he said and I had to bite my lip not to smile.
"They're dead," I said, trying not to think about the moment I found them. They were spying on my apartment and got shot and killed in the process. I didn't have any sympathy for them; they were probably there to do the same to me.
"That's why they're my favorite hit men," said Maddox.
"Who are the Finklesteins?" asked Damien.
"An old case," I said, waving away the comment. "Mikey just said something." The Finklesteins seemed so long ago now. I thought I'd grown tougher in that time, more aware of the bad apples in the world and maybe a little colder too, but now I wasn't so sure. Mikey was bad, but mostly, he was just stupid. I wasn't. I was still hopeful but I didn’t know if that was a weakness or my biggest strength.
"Tell me about the guy who approached you," said Garrett on the other side of the two-way mirror. "Start with his name."
"Mooch."
"Pardon?"
"His name is Mooch. Like a moose but different. Like a... mooch," trailed off Mikey, apparently unable to find anything that resembled a mooch.
"Where would I find this Mooch?"
"There's a bar on Ninth Street in Frederickstown. Kind of a dive. He goes there a lot. I don't know where he works or lives but I figure it's gotta be nearby because the bar is the gang's hangout."
"What does Mooch look like?"
"Big dude. Six-three. Built like he ate a small family."
"Do you mean he eats the same amount of food a small family eats?" asked Garrett.
"No, I mean like he ate his whole family. Dude's huge. He's bald with one o’ those beards that just goes around his mouth," said Mikey. "Lotsa tattoos too. When I go to jail, can you make sure I ain’t anywhere near him?"
"Why? I thought you wanted to join his gang."
"I wanted to join the gang because they got plenty o’ drugs, money, and girls, not because I want to die."
"I'll put in a special request for you to go to the fun prison, the one we like to call ‘the Country Club’," said Garrett. "Keep talking. Tell me about this Mooch approaching you. When did that happen?"
"About a week ago. I was just in the bar, mindin’ my own business and dealin’ some weed, when he came over. I thought he wanted to tell me I was in the gang but he said I had to do a job first and the job came with a nice bonus package. I figured it was a big shipment o’ somethin’ that he needed moved but he said naw, I just had to shoot a guy for him. He showed me a photo of Jim Solomon."
"John," corrected Garrett. Mikey pulled a face. "Never mind. Keep going."
"Mooch said he would give me two grand if I pulled it off! I never had that kind o’ money before and it sounded pretty easy so I said I'd do it and Mooch said that would get me into the gang and they would get me my own jacket and a bunch of other gang stuff."
"That's so sweet," said Garrett.
"They gave me the address and the gun and a list of instructions on how not to get caught. I know all that stuff. I boosted the motorcycle a couple days before and hid it and I wore a motorcycle helmet to cover my face. It was so easy. I just waited around for a while until I recognized him. He got out of his car and walked into the house. Then this cute, little brown-haired chick turned up. I checked and then I double-checked the address..."
"Very diligent of you."
"I didn't want to miss my opportunity. I rode the motorcycle onto the sidewalk and walked up the steps. I punched the doorbell and he opened the door. That was good because I didn't want to shoot the chick. Ain’t no money for that," Mikey continued breathlessly. Maddox's hand brushed mine and I curled my fingers around his, holding on tightly. "Anyway, he answered the door see? And I shot him. Pop! Pop! Then I got back on the motorcycle and tore outta there."
"Would you have shot 'the chick'?" asked Garrett. He made little, air quotes in the air and I wondered if Mikey noticed how cold Garrett's tone sounded.
"I guess so." He shrugged. "If she got in the way, but I wouldn't do nothin’ nasty to her. I'm not like that. There're girls at the bar who hang out with the gang practically for free."
"What about the warning?" asked Garrett.
"What warning?"
"Keep up with me, Mikey. The warning you were supposed to give to the man you shot."
"Nuh-uh. It wasn't no warnin’ for him! It was a warnin’ for someone else. I don't know nothin’ else about it, but I figure they musta gotten the message, you know what I'm sayin'?"
Garrett pulled a pad from under the folder on the table and produced a pen. "Start writing it down," he said. "Write down everything you told me and don't leave anything out."
"My writin’ isn't too good."
"You'll have plenty of time to improve," said Garrett. "Interview terminated by Lieutenant Graves. I'll be back soon." He got up, grabbing the file and the still sealed envelope before he walked out of the room. A few seconds later, the door opened and he walked in.
"Nice work," said Maddox.
"He's not the smartest cookie in the box," replied Garrett. "I'm surprised he didn't even ask for a lawyer. He caved too quickly too. Lexi, I'm sorry. This wasn't what I hoped for."
"I know but you caught him, he confessed, and that's great," I said. "Thank you."
"What happens now?" asked Damien. "Obviously, he's just a tiny piece of the puzzle but is it over?"
"I think we all know it isn't. We need to get to this Mooch guy and find out who ordered the hit. Or the warning, as Mikey is calling it."
"What if you keep pressing Mikey? He might have forgotten something," said Damien.
Garrett shook his head, his eyes looking weary. "I don't think so. My gut tells me he doesn't know anything more. I don't think there was ever any intention of giving him a gang jacket, or two thousand dollars. I think he's fully expendable. I think that was probably the point of picking him for the job. If he got caught, no one cares what happens to him. If he got injured or killed in the process of carrying out the job, again, no one cares. He can't tell anyone anything. He's no great loss to anyone. He's nothing but a patsy."
"I want to say that's sad but I currently don't care if he's in prison for the rest of his life," I said.
"Throw the book at him and let him rot," said Damien. "I'm glad this is over with. My brother deserved better than that."
"I agree with you on the last point," said Garrett, "but I can't stop here. I want to go all the way up the chain."
"Don't you have enough evidence against him with the ballistics report?" asked Damien. He pointed to the envelope Garrett held.
"Oh, that." Garrett wedged the folder under his arm and tore open the envelope. He laughed when he looked at it, then turned the single page for us to see.
"We're all out of egg salad sandwiches for lunch," I read.
Maddox laughed. "That was your bargaining chip?"
"Hell, I didn't know that was inside," said Garrett, grinning. "I did know it probably wasn't the ballistics report but Mikey didn't
know that. All he knew was, it could be and he was about to lose any hope he might have had for helping himself. That's probably one of the few times he did something smart and tried to save himself."
"You got a solid confession from him," said Damien. He reached out and shook Garrett's hand. "The Solomon family, what's left of us, are very grateful for that."
"He would do the same for me," said Garrett.
"What now?" I asked. I glanced at Mikey, watching him hunch over the pad to write while he sniffled and fidgeted.
"I'm going to convince him to wear a wire before I send him back into that bar to talk to Mooch. If I can get a confession from this Mooch on tape, I can grab another piece of the puzzle. Mooch might give up the next person higher up on the chain if only to save himself from the same fate as Mikey."
"I think the bar he's talking about is a Niners’ bar," said Maddox.
"Flaherty said he was with guys wearing Niner colors too," I added.
Garrett nodded. "They're a low level motorcycle gang. I’ve heard some talk that they're involved in shady stuff but apart from a bunch of misdemeanors and now this idiot, nothing much ever stuck with them. I can't see why they'd want to warn Solomon about anything. Lexi?"
"No clue," I agreed. "We've never been involved with them, at least not to my knowledge."
"How far up do you think this chain of command goes?" asked Damien.
"Not so far. We don't have the kind of organized crime that a lot of big cities do, so whoever ordered this is probably a local, and not far away. Plus, it sounds like Solomon was the warning shot. The ultimate target is someone else."
"Mikey didn't sound like they were warning Solomon away from something," said Maddox.
"I agree," I said. "It sounded like a case of 'this could happen to you.' They must have been warning someone close to Solomon, but whom?" The three men all turned their heads and gazed down at me. "C'mon! Really?" I said, my voice rising.
"You do get into some trouble," said Garrett.
"You're responsible for putting a lot of bad people away," added Maddox.
"You can't blame Lexi for this," said Damien, placing an unexpectedly protective hand on my arm. "She's only doing her job. Don't make her feel bad for that."
"I don't blame you, Lexi, but I will need to look at your recent and current cases. Maybe you shook the wrong tree and upset someone dangerous," said Garrett. "Has anyone contacted you recently? Said anything about what happened that might’ve concerned you? Implied anything?"
"No, not at all. Everyone is just shocked."
"And your caseload?"
"I don't have any current cases. The most exciting thing I've done recently is solve a missing persons cold case, one which you knew all about, then Solomon and I got busy tasting wedding cake samples."
"Anything suspicious about the wedding cake business?" asked Garrett.
"We went to White's Wedding Planning and the owner, Francesca White, asked me to look into something about an employee, which I wrapped up in a couple of hours. It was nothing. Not even interesting enough to pinch someone on the arm for, never mind shooting my fiancé in retaliation."
"Send me all the details. I'll check it out anyway. Actually, get someone to send me over details of every case the agency has worked on over the last six months," said Garrett.
"I don't even know that information!" I threw my hands in the air and turned away, exasperated and mad. Unfortunately, Maddox was in my way and left me nowhere to go.
"I'll get someone to get you the information," said Damien.
"Our cases are all confidential," I said, turning back again.
"And one of them might be the reason my brother was almost murdered."
"We have to respect our clients’ privacy. They come to us because we're not the police. Everything they tell us is held strictly confidential."
"But it's not protected by law! I can get a warrant but I'd rather have your cooperation. I don't need to know the ins and outs of everything," said Garrett. "Just enough to make some educated ideas on who might have become a problem. A name might ring a bell or sound familiar to us."
"Let me talk to someone at the agency," I said. "I'm not obstructing justice. I want whoever ordered this just as much as anyone else, but I don't want to destroy Solomon's business while we’re trying to find them. He left me in charge to look after the business, not ruin its reputation."
"Understood," said Garrett. "I have to get back in there before Mikey starts to eat the paper. You can stay if you want but I think the best part is over."
"I need to get back to the hospital anyway," I said.
"I'll take you," said Maddox.
"Damien?" I asked.
"If you don't mind, Lieutenant. I'd like to observe the rest of the interview," said Damien, addressing my brother directly. "Lexi, I'll come to the hospital directly afterwards, if you don't mind?"
"Not at all," I said.
"Damien, I can give you a ride back," said Garrett.
"Do you mind if I take a look at the investigation, too?" Damien asked. "One cop to another?"
"Sure," said Garrett. "Why don't you come with me and I'll introduce you to the squad? Another set of eyes could be helpful."
"Are you okay?" Maddox asked as we walked out of the police station. I blinked for a moment in the sudden bright light and sucked in a lungful of fresh air.
"Yes. Fine."
"Fine, fine? Or girl, fine?"
"'I don't know' fine. I'm glad they caught Mikey and I hope his dumb ass is thrown in jail for a very long time but I wish I knew more about what was going on. I have a bad feeling about this. I thought it was a grudge, or some kind of payback, and Solomon has an arsenal just waiting for it, but a warning? What kind of warning and to whom?"
"Are you sure no one's contacted you? Maybe an odd text message, or a strange phone call? A letter stuck on your windshield?"
"No texts, no calls, and my car is still parked at home. I don't recall seeing anything on it when we went there either."
"You should check with your colleagues and see if any of them got any warnings. Look out for anyone who approaches you too, even if its under the guise of friendliness. I'm starting to think it would be smart for you to stay at the hospital under twenty-four-hour guard too."
"You think this is about me too?"
"I don't know yet; but if Solomon was shot to warn someone, it has to be someone who’s very close to him. You're the most likely candidate."
We got in Maddox's SUV and when he started off, I grabbed my phone and fired off messages. One went to Delgado to tell him we were on our way to the hospital, another went to Garrett with the wedding planner information. I sent a message to Lucas asking for an update on the outstanding suspects, even though it seemed unlikely this could be anything from Solomon's long-distant past. I sent a group message to Lucas, Delgado, Fletcher and Flaherty too, asking for their thoughts on providing Garrett with a list of our cases. The last message was to Lily and I told her the shooter had been caught but I couldn't find an appropriate emoji.
"I wish I could be more help," said Maddox. "The moment something turns up that I can act on, I'll bring the FBI in. If this Mooch guys has been trafficking in drugs, or maybe even guns across state lines, the Feds can jump in."
"You've already done so much," I said. "I can't thank you enough."
"I want to do more."
"I know."
I didn't expect the hospital to be quite as lively when we arrived. The elevator doors drew open and the sound of excited chatter reached us instantly. Maddox and I turned to each other, frowning. Some of the voices sounded very familiar.
At the end of the corridor, near Solomon's room, a long table had been set up and people were unpacking dozens of dishes to spread along the middle. Nurses and doctors had plates and were lifting covers, sending wafts of delicious smelling food to us.
In the middle of all the commotion was my mother, a ladle in her hand as she spooned food onto the wait
ing plates. Next to her was Anastasia, smiling as she assisted. I counted all my nieces and nephews. My sisters-in-law, Traci and Alice, were there and Alice was still wearing her scrubs. I couldn't see her husband, Daniel, but I could see my other brother, Jord. Fletcher and Flaherty both had plates piled high with food and Serena handed a plate to Delgado, who stood in the doorway to Solomon's room. The uniformed guard looked perplexed.
"What is this?" asked Maddox as we paused to watch the party.
I could only think of one thing; Solomon must have woken up. I took off at a run, sliding around the small children and barely noticing the police officer when he told me to stop. I skidded to a stop in the doorway and pushed past Delgado.
Solomon lay on the bed, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
"He's not awake," I said to the still room amid the chaos outside.
"He hasn't woken up," said Delgado, only a step behind me.
"Then why is there a party going on outside?" I jabbed a finger at the corridor, unable to turn around because my jaw trembled at the shock of realizing he wasn't awake. He was still hooked up to all the monitors.
"We heard the shooter was caught and your mom decided to feed everyone," Delgado told me. "Word got around. I think everyone needed some good news."
I sank onto the chair at Solomon's bedside, crushed. "I thought he had woken up," I whispered.
Delgado placed a hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
"Garrett caught the guy but someone else ordered the hit," I told him as I stared at Solomon's sleeping face. "The shooter said he was paid to do it and it was supposed to be a warning, but he didn't know who the warning was for or why. That person, the person really responsible for it, is still out there."
"Garrett will find them."
"His only lead is an idiotic druggie."
"Let me get you something to eat. You look beat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Eat something anyway," insisted Delgado. "I can get you something to eat in here or you can come sit with your family for a little bit. Come on." He gently pulled me up and maneuvered me out of the room. "There's nothing you can do by watching him," he said softly, "but you can make sure you're okay when he wakes up. He would want that, right?"
Rules of Engagement (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 11) Page 16
