36 Hours (7 page)

Her chest heaved and she could hardly catch her breath. Marisa was dead. She’d really been pregnant and she was really dead. All this—all that she was doing was to save her friend, and now she had no one. Because her friend, her only friend, was dead.

She blinked back the tears, refusing to cry, especially in front of this tough guy who seemed to have no emotion but anger.

He could have let her walk away. He didn’t have to look for her, to risk his life to save her.

“You don’t know me,” she whispered.

“You’re my daughter. That’s all I need to know.”

Was it truly as simple as that?

“Gun.” He held out his hand.

She handed him the .22 she’d stolen, butt first. It disappeared in his pocket.

“I’ll teach you how to shoot when this is over,” he said.

Which implied he planned to see her again. The thought felt really, really weird. Almost scary.

But deep down, in a place she barely acknowledged, an unfamiliar sense of peace spread.

Chapter Ten

Lucky was an amazing cook, Angel noted as she cleaned her plate. “Is there more?” she asked.

Lucky laughed. “You’ll never go hungry in my house,” he said. “My mama was born and raised in Alabama.” He said it as if it meant something. Angel didn’t know what, but if it meant more of the chicken and potatoes that he’d cooked, she was down with that.

He scooped more onto her plate and Angel listened to Jake talk on the phone with some guy named Cutler. When he got off, he said, “I have an idea, but it might not work.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“I know a criminal defense lawyer who might be able to help you.”

She stared at him, her appetite gone. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I didn’t say you did. I want you to get your statement on tape, and the best way to do that, and get it to a judge, is to have someone in the system do it. Maddie is the only one I trust.”

“Maddie? Your girlfriend?” She sounded bitchy, but right now she didn’t want anyone else involved in her problems.

Jake shook his head. “She arranged my plea agreement, and sends me jobs now and then since I’ve been out of prison.”

Maddie
.
His lawyer.
Right
.

“Whatev.”

“Lose the attitude.”

Lucky grinned. “I like the attitude, Jams.”

Angel smiled and took another bite of chicken. Now, she really was stuffed. She drank the milk Lucky had poured. Her second glass. She didn’t remember the last time she’d eaten this much food. Except for the Cheerios at Jake’s, she hadn’t eaten since Friday morning.

“Why don’t we just find Kristina Larson?” Angel said. “The prosecutor? She’ll believe me. I already told her everything.”

“Who else was there when you spoke to her?”

“First Marisa went in and talked to her, then I did. She said she didn’t want us influencing each other’s statements.”

“I meant, who else in her office. A cop? Assistant?”

“Um, no one, but I assumed someone was watching or she was recording it.” She looked from Jake to Lucky and back again. “What?”

“I don’t trust her. Either she’s the one who leaked the information about your whereabouts, or someone in her office did. We don’t go there, not without complete protection. That means you have a video statement, you have an attorney, and you have me.”

“Like I can afford an attorney. I don’t think you can, either.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“And then what? I just … wait?”

“Yes.”

“But how can we prove that bitch set me up?”

“That’s not our responsibility.”

Angel stared at him. “Of course it is! Marisa is
dead.
She was my best friend—my only friend. Her parents don’t even know.
I’m
the one who convinced Marisa to go to the police.
I’m
the one who forced her to sit down with Kristina Larson. She’d still be alive if I didn’t!”

“It’s not on you.”

“I thought the Marines were all about honor and doing what’s right.” She pushed away from the table. “I was wrong.” She walked off.

She didn’t expect Jake to come after her, but he did, and he spun her around. “Not if it gets you killed.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

She stared at him, chin out. She was not going to back down on this. “If I don’t do something to stop the person who set me up, Marisa died for nothing.”

Jake ran his hands over his head. “Let me think on it.”

“I have to do something,” she said.

“First, we talk to Maddie. Agreed?”

She didn’t have much of a choice. And she’d promised to trust him.

She hoped she didn’t misplace that trust.

###

While Lucky went to the store for supplies, Jake tried every number he had for Madeleine Burke, but she wasn’t home, she wasn’t at the office, and she wasn’t picking up her cell phone. He left her one message without a return number and told her to call Cutler.

“So now,” Angel said, clearing her plate, “we go with Plan B.”

“I think we’re on Plan K by now,” Jake muttered.

“I could always record a statement and post it on YouTube for the world to see.”

“Let’s not.”

“Just saying.”

Jake needed to think, and it didn’t help that he’d had only a couple cat naps to sustain him.

He called Cutler on the burner phone.

“I need Kristina Larson’s home address.”

“She’s a prosecutor. No fucking way can I get it. You want me to go to prison? I mean, shit, Jake, it’s not--”

“I’ll call you in five minutes.” He hung up.

“I don’t think that guy likes you very much,” Angel said as she rinsed the plates and stacked them on the counter.

“Cutler’s a slime, but he’s my slime,” Jake said.

Angel sat down at the table and watched him. Looking to him for guidance and direction. That made him nervous. What if he failed her?

He waited four-and-a-half minutes and called Cutler back. “And?”

“You did
not
get this from me.”

Jake wrote Larson’s home address on his hand. She lived in Los Feliz. “Don’t you have a vacant house in Los Feliz?”

“Yeah,” Cutler said, wary.

“Where are the keys?”

“Please, I like that place.”

“The keys?” he repeated.

Cutler sighed dramatically. “Under the second pot on the back porch. Please,
please
, don’t get my house shot up.”

“Cross my heart.”

“As long as you’re not crossing your fingers while you’re at it.” Cutler slammed down the phone.

Lucky returned. “I got everything you wanted,” he said and handed Jake a large bag.

“So what’s the plan?” Angel said. “I knock on her door and say hey, someone’s trying to kill me?”

“No. This information is for an emergency only. If she’s the one leaking information to the G-5, we don’t confront her. She’s an ADA. You’re a wanted fugitive.”

“I have an idea,” Angel said. She held up the phone that Lucky had given her. “I’ll keep an open line. You record everything. I’ll get her to admit she tried to get me killed, and then we go to the police and ta-da!”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“How ‘bout this. I call her. Didn’t your slimy friend Cutler give you her number as well?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll tell her where I am. If she sends the cops or comes herself, she’s good. If she sends the Garcias, she’s bad.”

Lucky said, “I have all the equipment you need if you want to wire Angel.”

“No,” Jake said. “I’m not putting you in the line of fire, kid. My first idea, of getting out of town, is sounding much better.”

“You can stay here.
Mi casa
and all that.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Jake said. “We might take you up on that—

“No!” Angel shouted. “I mean, thanks, Lucky, but we can’t just sit around here and do nothing. If I wait until the morning, go to her office, and she’s one of them, I’m never going to leave that courthouse. Not even you could break me out of juvie.”

He had to admire his kid. She was no saint, but she wanted desperately to do the right thing, and that wasn’t something she’d learned from her mother—or from him, because he hadn’t been around to teach her.

Jake handed her the bag that Lucky had bought. “While I make some calls, let’s at least disguise you.”

She looked inside and stared blankly at the hair dye and clothes. “That’s a dress.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I’m not wearing that.”

“There’s blood on your jeans, that shirt is stained, and your hair stands out.”

“I’ll dye my hair, but I’m not wearing a dress.”

“You’re wearing a dress because no one will expect it.”

She groaned, grabbed the bag and stomped down the hall to the bathroom. She slammed the door.

Jake said to Lucky, “I’m worried.”

“You’re going to keep her, aren’t you?”

“What the hell does that mean? She’s not a stray dog.”

“Her mom’s a drunk, she’s on the edge, she has a record—she needs you.”

Jake had been thinking the same thing, though he felt wholly unsuited for fatherhood. “First things first.” He paused. “Besides, I don’t know if she wants me in her life.”

“Open your eyes. She wants
someone
to care if she lives or dies.” Lucky tossed him the burner phone. “Call your cop friend. Find out what’s what.”

Lucky was right. Tommy Lind would give him the scoop, and even if he couldn’t help, Jake would at least have an idea of what to do. He didn’t like the idea of Angel talking to Kristina Larson. Far too risky. He really needed to talk to Maddie. As much as Jake has issues with the defense attorney—most of them personal--she was as straight and honorable as they came.

He dialed Tommy’s number. “Tommy, it’s Jake Morrison.”

“Jake? What the fuck is going on?”

“You tell me.”

“Everyone knows your apartment was shot up last night. Your boss said you’re on a job.”

“I am.”

“You okay?”

“For now. I have a situation. LAPD is looking for a teenager named Iliana Saldana, goes by Angel.”

“Don’t I know it. It’s my day off, but we’re all working because we have a dead cop. You have a lead on her?”

Jake didn’t like the direction of this conversation. He’d planned to tell Tommy everything, but he pulled back. “I might.”

“Give it to me.”

“I don’t know where she is,” Jake lied, “but I have it on good authority that she was the gang’s target.”

“What authority?”

“She’s testifying against Raul Garcia of the G-5 gang tomorrow morning. Possibly a grand jury or to a judge to get a subpoena. I’m not sure on the details.”

“This girl has a rap sheet, been in and out of juvie, and the word on the street is she lied about the murders because she’s starting a war between the G-5 and Cedros Street gangs to benefit the Ranchitos.”

“Why would she do that?”

“The Mexican gangs have grown since you left the force, buddy. It can be a war zone in the wrong area, and she’s in the middle of it.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“What’s your connection? Where are you getting this intel? Because what we’re hearing is far different.”

Scenarios ran through Jake’s head. “It doesn’t make sense that she’d lie about seeing Raul Garcia shoot two working girls—it puts a big fat target on her back.”

“What better way to start a war? Those prostitutes the G-5 gang supposedly killed were Cedros girls. G-5 and Cedros take each other out, Ranchitos move right on in. Might have been that she did see them killed, but it wasn’t Garcia. Frankly, they all need to be hauled in and sent to prison, but we only have so much manpower.” Tommy hesitated a minute, then asked, “Jake, do you know where she is?”

“No. I gotta go.”

Lucky said, “That didn’t go well.”

“It’s worse. I tipped our hand and now they could be coming here.”

“They can’t trace the call.”

“I can’t count on that. And even if they can’t, they’ll pull my file and find out she’s my daughter. They’ll start looking for my known associates, including you. I made Tommy suspicious. He may be a friend, but he’s a cop first.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“I have a place. I can’t tell you—I trust you, but I don’t want to put you on the hot seat.”

Lucky retrieved another burner phone. “Take this. Let me know what I can do. Do you have money?”

“Enough.” Jake glanced down the hall. “Now I need to tell Angel I screwed up and we need to run.”

###

Lucky had gotten a variety of hair dyes, none of which would work on her hair if she didn’t bleach it first. Unless she just cut it off.

Angel stared at her reflection. She found a small pair of scissors in the bathroom drawer and cut her hair until it was about chin-length. She’d never had it this short before and wasn’t sure she liked it. She pictured herself in a coffin with this sloppy haircut and grimaced. But there was no going back now. She chose the lightest color dye and focused on her roots then combed it through to the ends. Her scalp tingled and she let the dye soak in while she considered what was going to happen. She didn’t think about today—she felt like everything was already out of control. But when all was said and done, what was going to happen to her
tomorrow?

Jake may have called her his daughter, but he wasn’t going to raise her. She didn’t need raising. She was fifteen-and-a-half, and as soon as she could get her GED and become emancipated, she would. She didn’t want to see her mother again, not after finding out that she’d been drinking all her child support money. Five hundred bucks a month—hell, if she had saved that, college might have been a real option. She wouldn’t have ever been hungry or gone to school in shoes with holes in the soles. But it was gone, and Angel wasn’t the type to regret.

She never thought she’d see her dad again after that day in the park ten years ago—she’d certainly never wanted to. She’d convinced herself she didn’t care about him. Now that she knew different, she didn’t know how to say goodbye—except, she’d have to. She’d suck it up and do what was expected of her. What choice did she have?