A Bullet for Carlos (22 page)

“Yeah, later,” Frankie said, and hung up.

***

As excited as I
was by the news, I felt down. Frankie digging so hard into this made me realize what a hypocrite I was. I accused him of being dirty for associating with his old friends when I spent half my life with Dominic, one of the
worst
of the mobsters, if the street talk was to be believed. I tried to ignore the rumors, and usually did a good job, but when I got brave I faced it. Problem was, those occasions were few and far between, and they made me realize how much I hated Dominic—for the boys who wouldn’t date me when I was young, for how he interfered in my life, for the suspicion he cast on me at work, but most of all for simply being who he was. I raised my head and sighed.

Now I had a new rumor to deal with. Dealers with their eyes gouged out! I couldn’t bring myself to believe that Dominic was involved, but somewhere inside I knew he was and I just didn’t want to admit it.

How could it be Uncle Dominic, the man who took such care of my mother; the man who fixed me breakfast, and drove me to school; the man who kissed me goodnight and told me everything would be okay after my mother died. Whoever did those things to the drug dealers was not the same man I knew.

How many ways can you hate someone and still love them.

I wished for the millionth time I had someone to talk to. Another woman to share my miseries, fears, and worries with. I tried before with Zeppe’s wife, but that didn’t work. She had grown up old-school Italian. She lived for taking care of her family and thought all problems were solved by ignoring them.

I sat on the edge of the bed, thinking. My nerves jumping as much as my heart was racing. I finally had something on the guy behind the bad bust. The only question was, what the hell was I going to do with it. I had to do
something
. I thought about calling Tip but discounted that. He was already in enough trouble.

I’ll be seeing Tony tomorrow. He’ll know what to do.

Chapter 25

Coffee Shop

T
ony was sitting at a table in the corner when I arrived. I pulled up a chair and sat next to him. “Nice day,” I said, “but I can’t believe how hot it is. I don’t know if I could take this.”

“Wait until July and August.”

“If I’m still here in August I’ll shoot myself.”

“I hear you,” Tony said, then nibbled on a raspberry scone and sipped his coffee. “What’s up? Anything new?”

“I’ve got some information you might use.”

“
You
got information for
me
?”

“From Brooklyn. Word is that a club called El Paradiso is a major connection used by Carlos Cortes, who goes by El Jabato.”

Tony looked at me then laughed. “Ain’t this some shit. You come here from the North Pole and tell me who’s doing drugs in my own town.”

I sat back, afraid I might have bruised his ego. “I’m just—”

Tony reached over and patted my shoulder. “Just messin’ with you. Down here
everybody
knows Carlos Cortes. And we know about El Paradiso. It’s a new place, but already with a reputation.” Tony squinted and leaned toward me. “You’re sure Carlos is the one behind your partners getting shot?”

“I’m sure. Why?”

“Because he keeps invisible. People know he’s behind things, but no one can prove it. Don’t worry, though. I’ll check it out. You still at the hotel?”

“Still there.”

“You need to tell Tip to get you a place,” Tony said.

“What do you mean get me a place? I’m here on a case. You remember budgets?”

“Just tell Tip. Your lieutenant will love you. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can find out about the club.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said, and headed out.

I couldn’t help thinking
about what Tony mentioned regarding a place to stay, so I called Tip. By late afternoon he had me set up with a friend of his who managed a new apartment complex. The guy owed Tip a favor—for what I didn’t ask—and he arranged to have me stay in a furnished apartment that was going to be used for a Model.

“You got it for three weeks,” Tip said. “We’ll have this case cleaned up by then.”

“What’s it going to cost?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Tip said. “Skelly owes me a favor.”

Tip had me meet him and we headed north, exiting not far from where Patti was found. I thought I’d entered an alternate universe. I ended up getting a two-bedroom apartment with plenty of windows overlooking a community pool. I wondered if I had died and gone to heaven. Now all I had to do was help Tip solve these murders then hope Tony could clear my name so I could go back to Brooklyn.

***

All morning Tony had
his snitches looking into El Paradiso. By late afternoon, he had enough to get unofficial approval to check the place out.

He headed down to the barrio and walked the streets until he found Carla, a young woman he helped a few years back. She had been hooked on heroin and prostituting herself before she was seventeen. For all that mattered her life was over, another street kid waiting to die. Tony worked with her, though, and brought her around. He got her help and stayed with her while she got off the shit. Then he helped her get a job, and, most importantly, gave her support when she got low to make sure she didn’t falter. Now it was time for payback. If he was going to this club, he’d need someone on his arm. And he wanted someone who could look and talk the street life, not a fresh undercover.

Half a block ahead he saw her, working the corner like she always did, trying to get the other girls off the streets. “Carla!”

She turned, seemed to be squinting her eyes, then waved. “Tony, where you been?”

“Been right here, baby. How’s it going?”

“Fighting the tough fight. These kids don’t listen to shit. All on a fast track to kill themselves.” She pulled out a smoke and lit it. “I’ve still got one vice. Couldn’t give all of them up.”

“We’ve all got vices.”

“You need something?”

Tony got serious. “You can tell me no and I won’t mind.”

“Spit it out.”

“I need a companion tomorrow night. I’m going to a club and I don’t want to go with a bare arm.” She started to talk, but he stopped her. “Before you agree, you’ve got to understand I’m after some bad guys.”

“That why you’re not taking your wife?”

“Carla, I love my wife, but she wouldn’t know what to do in a place like this. She’d have me killed in a heartbeat.”

“Where are we going?” Carla asked.

“Called El Paradiso. It’s on—”

She whistled. “High class. And you’re not kidding about dangerous. Rumors all over about Paradise.”

“I told you, you don’t have to come. I can get someone else.”

“Who can you get better than me? I’m the real thing, baby; besides, I been there. Wouldn’t mind going back.”

He looked at her with suspicion in his eyes.

“It’s not like that, Tony. I won’t go to places like that without an escort I can trust—like you. I know you won’t let me lose control.” She kissed his cheek. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Carla—”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Some nights I go to bed, and when I say my prayers I ask God to let me come back as Belinda, so I can have you.”

Tony hugged her. “You’re the best.”

“What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at 8:00.”

“They won’t even be open at eight. Pick me up at nine; we’ll plan things and get there around ten.”

Tony gave her a big hug. “See you at nine.”

As he walked away, Carla hollered to him. “You better tell Belinda to take care of you beforehand, because once you get in that club you’ll get horny as hell.”

He waved his hand, brushing her off. “Don’t worry about me.”

Tony worried as he drove away whether he should be taking Carla. He picked up the phone, started to call her, then remembered she had no phone. As he sat in traffic, he convinced himself that he’d watch out for her, wouldn’t let anything happen. “Yeah, she’ll be all right.”

Chapter 26

In Trouble Again

T
ip picked up a couple bags of kolaches on his way to the station. Kolaches were big in Texas. Brought here by the Czechs, they had become a breakfast staple in many parts of the state. Tip brought enough for everyone to share, assuming they got to them before Fat Charlie. Tip was finishing his second one when Susie came in.

“Tip, Lieutenant Renkin wants to see you.”

“What for?”

“Not good is all I know.”

Connie looked worried. “What did you do?”

Tip threw his plate away, and swigged the last of his coffee. “Didn’t do anything that I know of.”

The walk to Renkin’s office seemed to take forever, the halls longer and the walls closer together. Tip knew something was up if he was being summoned, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what. It had been a few days since he’d pissed anyone off, which was possibly a new record for him. Susie was back at her desk, but she didn’t move to get up when Tip approached, just nodded toward the door.

“He’s waiting.”

“Know what it’s about yet?”

“Not a peep.”

Tip raised his eyebrows. “Guess I’ll find out,” he said, and opened the door. “Morning, John.”

Renkin didn’t look up. “Sit down.”

Tip plopped in the seat but didn’t put his feet on the desk. “Susie said you wanted me.”

Renkin looked up from his work. “They want me to suspend you.”

Tip jumped out of the chair. “For what?”

“I’ve been warning you for years. The chief has been waiting for a chance to get rid of you. And the mayor is pressuring him.” Renkin got a file from a drawer in his desk. “You’re a prize, you know. Most people go through life not pissing off anybody important, but not you. No, you manage to piss off everybody. My ass aches every night because of you, and I’m tired of it.” Renkin leaned his huge frame forward, hands resting on his desk. “You hear what I’m saying? I’m goddamn tired of it.”

“You still haven’t told me what pissed them off.”

“That reporter is demanding you be suspended.”

“But I thought…”

“When she saw you yesterday it put her in high gear. She must have called in favors because when I got in this morning I had calls from the chief and from Mayor Rusty Johnson’s office.” Renkin stood and paced. “Rusty Johnson was particularly adamant, and it’s not the first time he’s pushed to get rid of you. Why does that man hate you so much?”

“John, I’m sorry you’re catching shit, you know that, but you’ve got to help me out on this one. I need this job.”

“Why? So you can catch that phantom killer of your mother. Give it up, Denton. All you’ve got in life are those stupid damn dogs, and they—”

Tip clenched his jaw. “Lieutenant, we’ve been friends a long time, but don’t call my dogs stupid. I swear, don’t do it.”

“You call them stupid all the time.”

“Maybe I do, but that’s me.”

Tip wanted to kick something—the desk, the chair, the lieutenant—anything, but he held his temper. “So what’s it going to be? You letting Rusty call the shots, or are you growing some balls?”

“I ought to suspend you for saying that. And to me, of all people. I had your back for ten years.”

Tip got a hard look on him, the kind of look he got when he wanted to hit someone. “We partnered more than a few years, John, and you know this hurts me more than anything to say, but I’ve got to have this job.” He leaned close and whispered. “Tell me how to keep it. Whatever it is that needs doing, I’ll do. If I have to kiss her ass, fine. Hell, even if I have to kiss Rusty’s ass.”

Renkin sighed but shook his head. “I’ll see what I can do, but don’t expect miracles.”

Tip punched his hand while he walked around the room. “All right. I’ll get Connie up to speed and we—”

“You’re off the case. I’m putting Vic on it. Probably—”

“Vic? That asshole couldn’t solve a case if they left him a book full of clues. He only got the shield because he’s—”

Renkin came out of his chair. “Because he’s black? Is that what you were going to say? Is that what you say about me? That I got this job because I’m black.”