Hit and Run (12 page)

Armor Plus.

“Thanks, Mac. Tell Krista.”

She hung up.

Minutes after Sykes calls Ben Vartarian’s private cell phone, Tony Mercer leaves the police station and drops a note off at a gravesite for Armor Plus to pick up. Armor Plus—run by Ben Vartarian’s cousin, Diana.

No coincidence, but nothing tangible to bring to Internal Affairs. And after what happened to her three years ago, Scarlet didn’t trust IAG. They hadn’t believed her statement, thought she’d been suffering from post-traumatic stress.

Gina, what did you see? Why did they kill you?

She felt a strong kinship with the dead police officer. Gina Perez should never have feared being killed by one of their own. It went against everything Scarlet believed in—honor, loyalty, duty. They were supposed to
unite
to protect the public and stop bad people from doing bad things. It was simple and noble.

Until it went so very wrong.

Krista had been Scarlet’s savior that fateful day, proving to Scarlet that there were people who felt the same as she did, that others were willing to risk their lives doing the right thing. But what about cops who did the wrong thing? What did John call Mercer—a fixer? Bad cops get in trouble, they go to him … but that means he has something over them. It means he can call in favors from maybe dozens of people. People with badges and guns.

If Sykes called Ben Vartarian, and he was the one who made the chess pieces move—Mercer and Armor’s trade of information at the graveyard—what was the order? What was on that paper? It was low tech—but low tech was sometimes the best way to communicate because computer forensics and electronic surveillance had become so sharp. Paper could be burned. It could be anonymous. It left no trail for the paranoid.

Connections. This was all about making the connection. She could tell Kyle Richardson everything she knew, but that meant shit because nothing she knew pointed to a smoking gun. She hadn’t seen anyone do anything illegal. And while she could identify Mr. Leather Jacket as skulking behind Diego’s house right before the gunfire that nearly killed her and Jason, she hadn’t seen him fire his weapon. Even if law enforcement could prove he was there through cell phones or GPS or footprints, that didn’t prove that Vartarian or Mercer was behind it.

Maybe Richardson could make him break. Interview him until he confessed and turned on everyone he worked for. Offer a deal. But if someone in the ADA’s office was involved, would he get a deal? Would he, too, be in danger? And Richardson would need at least one tangible piece of evidence to use as leverage. No one, especially someone trained in private security, would break easily.

Scarlet wanted to search Gina’s house, but with Leo watching, while he probably wouldn’t call the “Fascist cops,” he also probably wouldn’t lie when asked, and she didn’t want to tamper with evidence.

Jason had said Gina wanted to show him something. He’d also said the shooter came out of Gina’s office and ran out the back. Since they were still trying to kill Jason, it reasoned that the shooter hadn’t found whatever tangible piece of evidence Gina had. If they
had
found it, Jason’s life shouldn’t still be in jeopardy. Maybe she’d hidden it in her house. Or she hid it somewhere else and planned to take Jason to it when he arrived.

At this point, all Scarlet was doing was guessing.

Instead of breaking the police seal and searching Gina’s house, she jumped in her Jeep and drove south, back to the main LAPD headquarters where both her brother and Richardson worked. But before she got there, Kyle Richardson finally called her.

“Jason Jones is in critical condition.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Are you still at St. Joseph’s?”

“Yes.”

“Stay. I’m ten minutes away.”

“Did you just tell me to stay?”

Scarlet winced. That had come out very, very wrong. “Please wait for me. I have information you need to know.” She paused. “Pretty please with sugar on top?”

“Actually, I do need to talk to you. In person.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Just get here as soon as you can.” He hung up.

Scarlet was surprised to see her brother, John, waiting for her in the main lobby of St. Joseph’s Hospital. “John—what are you doing here?”

“Richardson brought me into the investigation.”

“O-kay,” she said cautiously. “And?”

“And just follow me.”

She had a hundred questions, but silently followed her brother to the elevator. They exited on the third floor and walked down a quiet hall to a row of offices. John knocked on an unmarked door.

Richardson opened the door but pointed to the phone as he listened to whoever was on the other end. He motioned for them to enter and finished his call. He hung up. “Thanks for coming so quickly, Scarlet. I briefed your brother on the investigation, not just because I need his help, but because I wanted you to trust me.”

“I do,” she said cautiously.

“You sound so convincing,” he said with a half smile.

The room was a small conference room with a round table and four chairs. There was a white board and counter and not much else. Richardson sat and Scarlet and John followed suit.

“What happened to Jason?” she asked. “Is he really in critical condition?”

“The guard was called off and someone attempted to poison him through his IV. Fortunately, whoever it was had little to no medical training and personnel were alerted before too much of the toxin got into his system. The official word is that he’s in critical condition and on life support. He
is
sick, but largely from the antidote which shocked his system. We’ve moved him to another floor and under an alias, but he’s going to be fine.”

“What about security tapes? Witnesses?"

“The bad news is that the intruder knew how to disable the camera feeds on that wing. I have two men I trust going through all other hospital feeds to identify everyone who exited the building between one and one-thirty this afternoon. It’s going to take time. Now. Tell me what’s going on.”

She did, starting with her visit to Sykes and calling in a favor to find out who he called after she left. She showed him the photos of Mr. Leather Jacket and Mercer and the blow up that Mac did for her on the badge. She wrapped up with her conversation with Leo, the old man who hated Fascist cops but apparently loved Gina Perez.

“Either you’re part of the conspiracy or Officer Thompson lied to you,” she said and watched him closely. “Because my brother thinks you’re a good cop, and you’ve brought him in, that means you would have followed up on Thompson’s report and talked to Leo yourself if Thompson wrote an accurate report.”

“I can’t tell you everything,” he said. “But you’re close enough to being right about what’s going on. Close enough that it puts you in danger and I should put you into protective custody.”

She frowned. “I was in danger from the minute I drove into Topanga Canyon.”

“You were in danger from the minute you answered Jason Jones’s call for help and met him at his sister’s house.”

She blanched. “I, um—”

“Save it, Scarlet. I know Jason’s innocent, and I know you thought you were helping him. I set up the SWAT sting because I suspected he’d go to his sister’s house and I needed to get him into protective custody as soon as possible. I thought putting him in the hospital with minor injuries and a guard would be sufficient, safer than solitary because I can’t control every jail and every guard. I told all this to Jason this morning, and the reason I haven’t answered your calls is that I’m working with the Feds to figure out what we’re going to do about him.”

She absorbed everything he said. She had a hundred questions, but started with, “Why didn’t you tell me this Saturday night?”

“Because I didn’t know you from Adam, and I didn’t personally know each of the SWAT team members or LBPD officers who assisted with the raid. I had to keep up the illusion.”

“You could have told me yesterday,” she grumbled.

“I was pissed off yesterday,” he said. “But after talking to my supervisor and John, I decided to bring you in as much as I can. It’s either that, or I arrest you for obstruction of justice.”

She bristled. “I haven’t done anything of the sort.” She ignored John shaking his head.

Richardson glared at her. “You’re in the middle of this quagmire.”

“Because someone is framing Jason for Gina Perez’s murder, and wants him dead. Probably so it’ll all go away, and they can close two cases.”

“This is bigger than the murder of one cop,” Richardson said. “I don’t say that lightly. I sent my wife and daughter to stay with my brother out of state because Armor Plus is dangerous and they will go after families if that’s what it takes to protect their operation.” He paused, then added, “That said, I need to keep as much of this under wraps as possible. I’ve been working on taking down Armor for over a year. This Gina Perez murder has come out of left field. It’s an outlier. I don’t believe it’s connected to my investigation, but you’ve proven it’s connected to Armor. That was a surprise to me. Perez may have found a piece of the puzzle, and I need that piece.”

“What exactly are you looking for?” John asked.

“I don’t know,” Richardson, clearly frustrated.  “The hard drive from her computer was stolen. There’s no way Jason had time to remove the hard drive and hide it off site before the police arrived. We thoroughly searched her house. I need to wrap up her murder with a big bow and make sure they think
I
think I’m done. The information about the missing hard drive isn’t known by anyone not directly involved with this case—I sealed that information. I don’t want them to know that I’m looking for it.”

Jason had said the killer came from her office. A hard drive was actually small—about the size of a fat e-reader—and could be easily concealed.

Richardson took a big breath and said, “Against my better judgment, I’m letting you into this. Only in so far as I need to stop what’s going on and find out why Perez was murdered. I have a plan, but it’s a long-tail plan. I need to solve Perez so I can continue my investigation. This isn’t solely an LAPD case. I’m working closely with the FBI , and it’s need-to-know because they started the investigation through their white collar crimes division.”

“White collar. You’re thinking Peter Vartarian. Supervisor campaign.”

“I told you she was smart,” John said.

Richardson said, “We have someone deep cover with the Vartarian campaign. Our entire case—and our agent—is in jeopardy until I can take Gina off the table.”

“You know him, don’t you?” She tapped the image on her cell phone of the Armor Plus guy who’d picked up the message from Mercer.

Richardson nodded. “That’s Thomas Laurens, Diana Vartarian’s brother-in-law. He’s a good soldier for Vartarian, loyal to the family.”

“He was in Topanga. I saw him in full black military dress, just like Eric Peterson was dressed. In the back of the house, while I was talking to you.”

“I’d love to bring him in, but I can’t. I’ll have you give a formal statement to my FBI counterpart, but we’ll seal it along with this photos. I need your word on this, Scarlet. You can’t reveal his connection to this case.”

Scarlet looked at her brother John. “You’re okay with this?”

“Sis, this is what I do. We have to think big picture. Laurens is a small fish. You know it, I know it. We need to take out the shark, then all the bad fishes disappear or get swept up.”

John was right. She didn’t like it, didn’t have to like it, but the most important thing was stopping the organization, not just one person on the periphery.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I’m waiting for permission.” Richardson’s phone vibrated on the table. “I hope this is it.”

She rose. “I’ll leave.”

“Stay.”

She sat back down. Richardson answered formally. He listened, asked a couple questions, then said, “I’d like to bring in a civilian. … Yes, that’s her. … Yes, ma’am.” He hung up and said to Scarlet, “It’s risky.”

She leaned forward. “I’ve already been shot at and nearly burned alive. I’m willing to take the risk.”

“I thought you’d say that. That was SSA Faye Clark. She’s the FBI liaison on this case. You need to know that there are only a handful of people who know that there is an active investigation into the Vartarians, and most of them are Feds. On our side, it’s me, my boss, one officer assigned to me, and now your brother. But I need to know something—are you still involved with ADA Matt Hamilton?”

“Matt?” Her stomach rolled. “Is he under investigation?”

“I can’t answer that.”

Matt? No way. He was a prosecutor, and had always been dedicated.

“We broke up three years ago,” she said.

“But you lived with him.”

“For a year or so.”

“And the last time you saw him?”

“I have no idea—at my dad’s maybe two years ago?” She glanced at John. John stared back, his face unreadable. No, not completely blank—she knew her brother. It was his cop face. He was dedicated, over and beyond what was required to be a good cop. If he had to keep information from his best friend, he would. “Not that it’s your business, but it wasn’t a very happy break-up. He didn’t want me to become a PI and he didn’t support my claims that someone set me up three years ago. If you think that I’m going to spill anything to him, I’m not.”

“Hamilton isn’t under investigation at this time, but because of his connection to Ben Vartarian, we don’t want there to be any risk of a leak.”

John said, “I told Kyle about my friendship with Matt. This is bigger than friendship, and when all is said and done, when Mercer and the Vartarians are exposed, Matt will understand.”

She nodded. John was right. She turned to Richardson and said, “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“The information you uncovered about Tony Mercer’s connection to Armor Plus is enlightening in many ways. It gives us something we didn’t have before. We have a list of corrupt cops who have situational problems that Armor uses to their advantage—gambling, drinking, whoring, you name it. But we only had the bottom feeders, people we’ve been watching for a long time.”