Shady Lady (Corine Solomon #3)
Page 41And that was part of why I couldn’t turn down Escobar’s money. I wanted her to have a future brighter than I could provide alone. Having a place of our own mattered desperately, and now maybe she’d understand why. If Chance knew, he might get why my pawnshop had meant everything to me, and, with it blown to shit, why I felt as if someone I loved had died. I needed a home, dammit.
“I had no idea,” she whispered.
“Nobody does.” I exhaled shakily and got my own Aleve and agua.
Her expression said she understood; we didn’t need to speak of this again. Thank God. Though I’d come to terms with my mistakes, I didn’t enjoy reliving them, even for Shan’s benefit.
But she had her own point to make as well. “Look, I’ll stop threatening to leave if you stop talking about sending me away. I know it’s dangerous; I’m not an idiot. But for the first time I feel like I belong and I’m not giving that up. Okay?”
I downed my water like it was a shot of something stronger. “Fair enough.”
Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
In the morning, Chuch called. “Where are you, prima?”
“I think you’re better off not knowing.” I hesitated. “I’m so sorry. I brought this down on you.”
“You don’t know that. If Montoya knew we got involved in the raid on his place, then maybe he was already gunning for us. If you hadn’t warned us, it might’ve been a lot worse. Maybe we wouldn’t have gotten out the back.”
I suspected he was trying to make me feel better. “I’d prefer it if you stayed with Eva.”
He swore softly. “Who you think made me call you?”
I smiled because it sounded like her, nearly at her due date and thinking about revenge. She was going to be the most unusual mom on her block. “Don’t you have other stuff to do, like, say, see about having your house rebuilt?”
“My cousin Ramon’s already on it.”
“The one who gave your tía Rosita such a cheap funeral?”
“Yeah, well. He learned his lesson.”
“Eva really wants you to do this?”
The phone rustled; then his wife came on the line. “Seriously, chica. I’ll call if I think the baby’s coming. I don’t feel right about you facing this on your own.”
“I’m not, actually. I have Shannon. And Escobar’s men.”
“Pfft,” she said. “You need friends too. I’d be there if I could.”
A little pang went through me. “Even now? I cost you your house.”
“Okay. Here’s the address.” I recited it to her.
“Gotcha. Take care.”
“You too.”
Shannon stepped into the living room. Her bruises glowed almost purple, and her cheek had swollen overnight. She looked like I’d backhanded her for giving me lip. “Chuch is in, I take it?”
“Yeah. I just need to decide how he can help.”
“Let me know if you need me. I’ll be surfing.”
With a nod, she went back to her laptop while I fretted over Jesse. Not knowing got the best of me, so I dialed the police station and asked for Glencannon. It was a long shot they’d put me through. The officer on the other end asked for my name and then put me on hold. I listened to bad Muzak for five minutes before anyone answered.
The lieutenant picked up eventually. “Ms. Solomon, what can I do for you?”
“I was hoping you could tell me how he’s doing. Physically.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t call his parents.”
“To be honest, sir, I spoke to you longer than I did with them. That was our first meeting.”
“Ah,” he said. “Not the best time for it. Well, he came out of surgery just fine, no complications. I posted guards and it’s been quiet.”
“Could you tell me what room? I’d like to call before he’s sequestered or whatever you call it.”
If he found it strange I didn’t already know, Glencannon didn’t mention it. “He’s in four oh five. They should put you right through.” He hesitated, and then added, “Tomorrow or the next day, he’ll be transferred to a city-owned safe house.”
“I understand.” He was telling me to say what I needed to because I wouldn’t be speaking to Jesse for a while. “You’ll make sure nobody else has access to that information, right?”
“I hope you’re not telling me how to do my job.”
I winced. Smooth. “Of course not. It’s only that . . . well—”
“We had Nathan Moon on our payroll. I’ll be careful, Ms. Solomon. I’m pretty sure the department’s clean, but I won’t bet Saldana’s life on it.”
“Thank you, sir.”
After hanging up, I realized I’d called this man “sir,” an unprecedented level of respect toward law enforcement. That had to mean something. Perhaps I could trust him. Whether he could trust me? Hm. I had a bad track record with cops, but I could cook up a charm to nudge him in that regard.
Most likely, Jesse hadn’t called because they’d kept him too doped up to dial. Still, I had to speak to him before he left the hospital. That was a girlfriend thing to do.
The phone rang several times before Mrs. Saldana picked up. I’d expected to find her there. She was the kind of mother everybody wanted and damn few people got. I had a great one of my own, but I didn’t get to keep her long.
“Oh, hello,” she said when she recognized my voice. “I know Jesse will want to speak with you. He’s been very fretful when his meds wear off.”
Well, yeah. He had to be worried. Even with a bullet hole in him and shot up with meds, he still had room in his heart for me. Maybe I’d fought the idea of falling for him because he stood for everything good and decent—and, well, I didn’t. If the past left a mark on one’s soul, mine resembled an old road map covered with dirty footprints, ashes, and spilled wine that looked like blood.
Yet maybe it was time to let the guilt go for good.
“Corine?” He sounded fucking stoned. “You okay? I keep telling them they hafta let me out.”
“And they’re not going to listen,” I heard his mother say firmly. “Not until the doctors release you, and then you’re going straight into protective custody.”
“I’m fine. Just do as Glencannon asks. . . . I’ll be all right. This once, let the damsel save herself.”
The phone clattered, and then Mrs. Saldana spoke. “He’s a bit out of it still. Are you working?” Her tone implied that was the only acceptable reason for my not being at her son’s bedside. The truth would likely make her head explode.
“I’m sorry, yes.” It wasn’t a complete lie, and I couldn’t explain that hanging around his room guaranteed more harm to come.
If I stayed away and caused trouble elsewhere, Montoya and his men should be too busy beating the bushes for me to think about the cop who got away. That was the plan, anyway. I made an excuse about getting back to my job and hung up. Lying to Jesse’s mom made me feel lower than a worm’s belly, but nothing could alter my circumstances.
To get my mind off Jesse, I e-mailed Chuch. He showed up within the hour, sooner than Escobar’s boys. I ushered him into the safe house and he assessed the place with an approving eye.
“This is a great setup. Would take a small army or highpowered explosives to get in here. A Molotov won’t do the job. It’d just burn the paint off the cement.”
“Good to know,” I muttered.
He spread his hands with a cheerful grin. “We all have areas of expertise, right? What’s the plan?”
I filled him in on what I had Escobar’s crew doing. “And so I’m waiting for them to report back. Two houses, two nights running, and I had them leave a calling card.”
“You’re doing that for me and Eva, huh? Hitting him where he lives and all.”
“Yeah. Jesse too.” And Ernesto and Señor Alvarez. For the fact that Shannon and I are now homeless. Oh, yeah, Montoya had given me many, many reasons to fight.
“You got a good head for battle, prima.”
“I want him shaken.” I sighed softly. “I’m not thrilled with hiding while I send other people to do my dirty work, but—”
Chuch nodded. “Nothing wrong with delegation. Speaking of which, you never did tell me how you swung an alliance with Escobar. He never sees anybody. Dude’s crazy cautious.”
“He tested me and found me worthy.” I refused to say more.
The time I’d spent with Kel was too personal to share, even with my friends. I couldn’t let myself think about him right then, where he was, whether he was lonely or loathed his orders. I would later, no question. Kelethiel, son of Uriel and Vashti, had forged a path in my heart that nobody else could tread.
“Claro,” he said, as if that were the natural outcome. “So what’s my part?”
We didn’t have Chance to dowse this time, even if we got a list of properties from Escobar. After our last raid, I doubted we’d have it so easy if we attempted a frontal assault, and with his son or daughter about to be born, I wasn’t sending Chuch into battle anyway. The current plan must stand.
“I need you to use your contacts to get a message to Montoya’s people. I don’t want you carrying it yourself. But you know people who can.”
“That’s it?” His offense was obvious.
“It’s crucial. Now that I’ve done some damage, I need to talk some shit and up the stakes. But I can’t come into the open prematurely.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“For the message? I’m a ghost; he’ll never catch me—I’m unkillable. Maybe even that I’ve made a deal with the devil.” Considering what I’d done for Maury, that statement was closer to the truth than I liked. “Oh, and that anytime he wants to surrender in person, he should drop me a line.”
Chuch laughed softly. “Damn, cuz. That’s gonna burn right into his brain. He’ll probably kill the chingado who brings him word.”
“It’s a risk you take working for crazy-ass cartel bosses,” Shannon noted.
“So can you find someone to carry the message?”
Chuch considered. “Yeah, but you’ll have to write it down and seal it. Otherwise, nobody’d be dumb enough to take that shit to Montoya.”
“I can do that. And I’ll send this along as my calling card.” I held up the red hair extension. In this light, it was so obviously fake it wasn’t funny.
Rummaging turned up a pad of paper, and I always had a pen in my purse. I scrawled my comments in particularly taunting cursive, and I didn’t sign it. The red hair would do that for me.
Shannon watched, half-horrified, half-amused. “I hope to God Escobar knows what he’s doing.”