Switchblade

by Carsen Taite

  I was sent to the master bedroom to scatter fake rose petals all over the bed. Maggie supplied me with four good-sized bags of the things. They’d probably still be finding these things on their fiftieth wedding anniversary. As if. I didn’t know anyone who’d been with anyone that long, married or not.

  The master bedroom wasn’t any bigger than the only other bedroom in the place. The only reason I knew it was the love nest was the amount of couple pictures scattered on every available surface. Mark and Linda at the beach. Mark and Linda at a picnic. Mark and Linda at a cocktail party. There were lots more. A bit much, but it got me thinking. I didn’t have a single picture of Jess, let alone a picture of Jess and me. I’m sure someone did. We’d had our pictures taken at softball games and after parties. In large groups of friends. But never as a couple, and I’d never handed a camera, even the camera on my phone, to anyone and said, “get one for me.”

  I didn’t know what that meant, or even if it meant anything, but the absence of any photographic evidence of an “us” left me feeling a little empty.

  *

  When Cash and I finally escaped, my first thought was lunch. Can’t live on donuts alone. Fortunately, this part of town was known for its many patio restaurants. We settled on Snuffer’s and Cash waited patiently while I went inside and ordered cheeseburgers and fries for us to share.

  While we ate, I scrolled through the list of numbers on my phone, trying to decide who would be the most likely candidate to help me find Garcia. Jess was out and so was Nancy. I couldn’t ask Jess’s partner, John. I knew a few other cops, but after the way Jess and I had parted, I didn’t want to go that route. Besides, most of them would immediately know what case I was working on when I mentioned Garcia’s name, and my chances of getting help were slim to none.

  This whole exercise was feeling a lot like shuffling through the napkins. And then my scrolling stopped on a familiar name. Diamond Collier. I don’t know why I didn’t think of her sooner. I’d seen her just a few weeks ago. When she coaxed me into finding a couple of mobsters. The work had gone to hell and I wound up plowing into more than I bargained for, and getting Jess shot along the way. Hard to believe it had been less than a month and my life was already a mess again.

  I didn’t want to call Diamond. She was complicated, like Ronnie. I didn’t need to add to the level of complications in my life, and the last time I’d seen Diamond, she’d kinda asked me out on a date, which was pretty weird since we’d seen each other naked on numerous occasions. When the mobster case was over, she’d left a note on my door. All it said was “I owe you” and her phone number. I’d plugged it in my phone just in case, but I’d never intended to use it.

  I rolled the options over in my head for all of two minutes before I decided I didn’t really have a choice. Because she was a federal agent, Diamond had access to all kinds of information I’d never get on my own. And she owed me. I dialed the numbers before I could talk myself out of calling her.

  “Luca?”

  “Is that how you always answer the phone?”

  Her voice was still as sexy as ever. I did my best to tune out the tone and focus. The last thing I needed was another female distraction. “I need some info and you owe me. Meet me in an hour at Maggie’s.” I hung up before she could reply.

  Early afternoon at Maggie’s was slow and, as I suspected, Maggie was absent. Probably she and Dad were still hovering at Mark’s house waiting for the happy couple to return home. Ah, wedded bliss. I sat at the bar and ordered a beer from Harry. He poured me a draft, his eyes on Cash the whole time.

  “Come on, Harry. Maggie doesn’t have a problem with him.” I reached down and rubbed Cash’s fur to demonstrate what a nice thing a dog was to have around. Harry shook his head. “Maggie doesn’t have a problem with a lot of things as far as you’re concerned.”

  That wasn’t how I saw it, but I decided against arguing. I drank my beer while watching the door. Diamond strolled through the door exactly an hour from when I’d hung up with her. Still a brunette and still sleek and sexy, every head in the bar turned her way as she walked toward me. She took the seat on my right and ordered “whatever she’s having.” Harry handed her the beer and shook his head again at me. Next time I saw Maggie, I was going to get another lecture about bringing women other than Jess to her place. Little did Maggie know, my days of hanging out with Jess might well be over.

  Diamond waited until Harry left to wait on some other customers before asking any questions. Her first one was, “This your dog?”

  “Yes. His name’s Cash.”

  “Suits you. He’s a handsome guy.” She rubbed behind his ears and he pressed against her leg. Bonding. I recognized it even if I didn’t do it much.

  “He’s a good dog.”

  “I can tell.” She gave his head one last pat and then faced me. “You’re right. I owe you. What do you need?”

  I hadn’t expected it to be this easy, and I still wasn’t sure it was going to be, so I launched right in. “You familiar with the Jorge Moreno case? Local DA’s handling it. Fake drug deals. Lot of bad arrests, deportations?”

  “Heard about it. There’s a big civil suit.”

  “Right. In federal court.”

  “But not involving any of our agencies,” she was quick to add.

  “I know, but I just figured you guys might know something about it.”

  She laughed. “‘You guys’? Like we’re a little club? Tell me what you want, Luca. If I can help you, I will.”

  “I need to find Roberto Garcia.”

  “Who’s that?” She was good, but it’s not just lying perps that have a tell. When Diamond lied, while she lied, she kept her fingers busy. Sometimes doing fun things, things I liked, but right now they were shredding a napkin into tiny bits of confetti. When she was undercover, the guys she tried to fool probably thought it was cute. But I knew better. I reached over and scooped up the debris and pressed it into a ball. She watched with a fixed expression of nonchalance until I threw the napkin at her face.

  She frowned. “What the hell did you do that for?”

  “Didn’t you agree that you owe me? You don’t have to take me to meet the guy. Just give me his last known and I’ll find him myself.”

  I watched her face and could read the train of emotions. “Luca, you don’t want to get more involved in this case.”

  More involved. She’d only had an hour since I called her. I guess that was enough time for her to have made some calls and found out what I was working on, but it seemed unlikely. No, she’d already known before I’d called. But why?

  Diamond had spent a good portion of her career working undercover. Lying came too easy, so I wasn’t big on asking her direct questions. I decided to use some lies of my own to flesh out some answers. “I’m already involved. Local cops think I set up a couple of cops who got shot. I need to talk to Garcia. I think he’s got info that can clear me.”

  “I wish I could help you.” She didn’t have a napkin to fiddle with, but her hands were twitchy. She definitely knew more than she was letting on. I pushed harder.

  “DPS booked me in last night on assault charges. One of the cops is in a coma. He dies and I’m toast.” I took a drink of my beer and waited. Only a completely heartless person wouldn’t help me now. If Diamond knew anything about this case, she knew I’d only given her half-truths. Would she admit she knew more, or persist with the “I don’t know anything” line and walk away?

  She glanced around. No one was sitting anywhere near us, and Harry had disappeared to the back. Cash’s ears were perked up, but I trusted him, and apparently, Diamond did too. “Luca, I know there’ve been too many times I wasn’t straight with you, but I’ve always had your back. You need to walk away from this case. Don’t try and contact Garcia. Walk away from Moreno. Walk away from every Dallas cop you meet. This isn’t your battle and nothing good can come from getting in the middle of it.” She reached for my hand, an oddly romantic gesture. “If you keep pushing
, I don’t think you’ll live to tell about it.” She squeezed my hand to emphasize the point.

  I lifted my hand and stared at the spot she’d touched. We’d never exchanged anything beyond physical interaction, but the touch had emotion behind it, and I felt like I’d just betrayed something by letting her touch me like that. But you let Ronnie fuck you and you felt no guilt. The fucking was release. This touch? It was tender, caring. Ronnie didn’t care about me. She only cared about keeping me satisfied so I’d help her brother. Our whole relationship had started with her fucking me to get me to help her on a case. She’d deny it, but I knew that’s all there was. No, Diamond’s touch had felt like something else. Someone else. Jess.

  Jess wanted me off this case too. Maybe I should take it as a sign that the only people who cared about me wanted me to stop helping Jorge Moreno. I could sort out my time, do a bill, and give Ronnie back whatever money was left. Walk away from Ronnie’s mess and back into Jess’s arms.

  The pull was strong. But so was the nagging suspicion that if I did, there’d always be a chink in the metal of our relationship. I’d never cared before about righting a wrong, choosing instead to take the easy way out. I’d only ever had a list of people to bring in. I spent my time catching them, turning them in. It wasn’t my job to stick around to make sure they were really good for their crimes. If justice was served by anything I did, it was by accident, not because I went looking for it. If I walked away now, someone was going to get away with something, and I sensed it was someone big. And for the first time, I cared.

  “If you want me to live, you’ll tell me how to find him. Because I’m going to find him, and the easier it is, the less chance I’ll die trying.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Isat on my couch and waited for the phone to ring with a call or buzz with a text message. I’d parted ways with Diamond two hours ago and she’d promised to get in touch this evening with information about Roberto Garcia. My natural impatience caused me to define evening loosely. It was barely six p.m., but I’d already walked and fed Cash and eaten an entire pizza from i Fratelli’s. I didn’t have anything else to occupy my time and that started an itch that I only knew three ways to scratch: sex, alcohol, or gambling.

  I considered my options. If I started drinking, I wasn’t likely to stop and I wanted to be alert for her call. My sex options appeared to have multiplied over the past few days, but appearances aren’t everything. I’d come when Ronnie touched me, but the orgasm was a reflex, a well-honed one. She knew where to touch, and my body was programmed to offer up the same reaction every single time. Didn’t change the fact my head wasn’t in the game.

  And my heart? Well, I wasn’t in the habit of associating feelings with sex, but I wasn’t above comparing. What Jess and I had shared, earlier that day in her bed, felt exponentially more satisfying than the quick and dirty finger fuck Ronnie had delivered.

  And then there was Diamond. Every time we’d fooled around had been great. Except the last one. I flashed back to the scene at a casino hotel just weeks ago. We’d fucked like usual, but instead of feeling sated, I’d woken up the next morning feeling used and not in a good way. Jess and I had used each other off and on during the years we’d known each other, but I’d never felt like something had been taken from me, only given.

  I shook my head. Jess wasn’t an option for me now and she might never be again. The loss of a sure thing made me distrust my instincts, robbed me of the will to gamble. I’d gone full circle on my options and there was nothing left to do but wait for Diamond’s call.

  When the phone finally rang, it wasn’t Diamond. I stared at the familiar number and debated answering. I would’ve thought Nancy would steer clear from me after I’d tried to pump her for information the night before, but either she really did want my body or this was just a friendly call. I was curious enough to answer.

  “Hey, Walters, guess you’re feeling well enough to dial the phone.”

  “I’m doing better, but I’m still up for some physical therapy if you’re still offering.”

  I started to argue that I’d never offered, but I bit my tongue. I’d never considered Nancy for sex, and I wasn’t going to start now. I wasn’t even sure why we’d never done it. She was attractive enough and definitely willing, but it was too easy. I may be lazy about most things, but challenge was arousing. Nancy wasn’t.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got a busy day. Rain check?”

  She laughed, a nervous laugh. I couldn’t tell if she was hiding embarrassment about the rejection or if it was something else. “Definitely a rain check. That’s not really why I called anyway.”

  I waited for her to go on, finally offering an, “oh, really?”

  “Yeah. I checked into that story you mentioned about Jackson and I think there’s something to it. Perez was involved somehow. I think she helped cover up Jackson’s arrest. Maybe they’re a thing.”

  “Interesting.” I slowly digested the information, trying to decide if I was being played. What she said tracked with what Sally had told me—Perez had investigated the case, but when Nancy added in the “maybe they’re a thing,” my antennae went up. I’d always assumed Perez was a lesbian. She’d leered at girls enough on the softball field, but I’d never actually seen her with anyone of either sex. Maybe she was bi. I shook my head, wanting to clear all images of Perez with anyone at all. Was Nancy screwing with me, or was she actually feeding me good intel?

  “I thought she was gay.” I wished I could see Nancy’s face through the phone to judge her reaction.

  “She’s whatever she needs to be. She’s been married before. Years ago. Definitely not a gold star.”

  I didn’t bother pointing out that lots of lesbians had been with men before they discovered the fairer sex. Didn’t mean they went back to men. “Interesting.” I figured if I kept repeating the one-word response, she’d keep spilling details in an attempt to get me to engage. It worked.

  “So, obviously, she’s tied to Jackson somehow. Might be worth looking into.”

  I mustered up enthusiasm I didn’t feel and said, “I think you might be on to something. Thanks for the tip. I totally owe you.” I added lots of innuendo to the last phrase to cover any trace of disbelief. Nancy Walters was lying about something, but I wasn’t going to call her on it until I knew exactly what and why.

  *

  Diamond didn’t call and she didn’t text until the next morning when Cash and I were standing outside the corner convenience store eating a second hotdog each. Even then, her message was cryptic: Still looking. Hold tight. Be in touch.

  I’m not big on “holding tight,” and I had a strong feeling Diamond was stalling until she could divert my attention. She wasn’t ever going to lead me to Garcia. Time to stop waiting and start doing. I’d spent the night thinking about how to find the CI, and I’d latched on to a possibility. Garcia had to be a key component of the case against the city. I didn’t know a ton about lawsuits, but I figured one of the plaintiff attorneys must have him on a witness list, maybe they’d even deposed him. I fired up the computer and started searching for the players involved. In federal cases, all the records filed in the case were online, easily accessible for pennies a page. Didn’t take long to get a list of the lawyers in the case and see what had been filed. Lead lawyer for the plaintiffs was Ryan Foster. I recognized the name, but couldn’t place it until Google filled in the blanks. She’d been a big deal at the DA’s office a few years back, but left in the wake of a scandal. According to the papers, she hadn’t been directly involved, but now she spent her time going after the powers that be on behalf of the little guy. Definitely not a law and order type. I liked her already.

  Foster had filed a bunch of discovery requests, including a deposition notice for Roberto Garcia. The city had responded, saying Garcia didn’t work for them now and to the extent he ever did, he was a contractor of sorts, so they weren’t responsible for getting him to show up for a civil suit interrogation. Foster then
requested every record the police department had regarding his confidential informant status and every deal he’d ever transacted on behalf of DPD. She was a shark, and because she’d worked on their side in the past, she knew exactly what to ask for, but the other side wasn’t rolling over. They’d filed motions to quash every single one of Foster’s requests. I read through two pages of legal mumbo jumbo, and I still had no clue who was getting what information from whom or if they were getting anything at all. I signed off Pacer and dialed Foster’s office number, hoping she would just explain what was going on, in simple English.

  I’d expected to leave a message, but was surprised when a woman answered.

  “Foster here.”

  “I hear you want to talk to Roberto Garcia. So do I. Any chance you want to pool our resources?”

  “Who is this?”

  “Just someone with similar interests. You interested or not?” No way was I going to tell her I was a) a bounty hunter, or b) a PI working for the cop she thought had set up her clients. Defense attorneys have no love for the people who go hunting their bond-jumping clients, and the second reason was completely obvious.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “How about we start by talking. You free now?”

  After a few seconds of silence, Foster answered, “I have some time if you can get here in the next hour. I’m at Brett Logan’s office.” She gave me the address. Another napkin down.

  After we hung up, I Googled the address. Brett Logan was a lawyer, like Foster, but Foster’s name wasn’t listed in conjunction with the address. I grabbed Cash’s leash and motioned for him to head to the door. Based on everyone’s reaction so far, he was a surefire icebreaker, and I’d need every tool I had to crack this case.

  The law office was just blocks away from the courthouse. The brown stone courthouse was located in front of the towers of the Dallas County Jail where I’d turned in Susie Kemper less than a week ago. And run into Jess for the first time since our fight after Mark’s wedding. Kind of hard to believe so much had happened in so little time. Now I wasn’t entirely sure that if I ran into Jess she’d acknowledge me in front of her cop pals.