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“Can you talk to her? Because I don’t feel like we were heard. Sophia is a good girl, Margo. She wants to do the right thing, but the system isn’t working for her and she’s losing hope.”
I believed in the system. My mom worked in it. My brother. Even my dad, as a doctor for the VA.
But I also knew that the system didn’t always work, and justice was not always swift. People slipped through the cracks. Not all crimes were punished. Fighting for justice was sometimes an uphill battle.
“Let me see what I can do,” I said. “But keep Sophia home tomorrow, okay?”
“I will.”
After I ended the call, I checked my messages. They were both from Lulu.
Hey, I did the best I could on the photo. It’s clearer, so maybe if you know him you’ll recognize him. Thanks again for standing up for me at dinner.
The next message was the image. I zoomed in and immediately recognized the person in the reflection.
Javier Escobar.
I put my phone down and stared at the map I’d created. Three teenagers vandalizing businesses and petty theft, culminating in killing Greg Rodriguez at the Cactus Stop. The crimes started after Christmas and nothing since the murder. Eight robberies over three weeks.
Seventeen burglaries over about five months, the last occurring on January 8. I texted Nico.
Hey, those Paradise Valley burglaries. Any after January 8 that match the MO?
He texted me back almost immediately.
No. Why?
I sent him a smiley face and put my phone down.
No burglaries since a week before Rodriguez was killed.
That wasn’t going to last. Javier Escobar was Don Cruz’s new partner. Between my sighting today and Lu’s picture, I didn’t have any doubt. The question in my mind—had he always been involved? He killed Greg, but did they know each other? Or had Don recruited Javier because he had a falling out with Greg?
I wanted to look at the security video again.
Did Javier target the Cactus Stop for the sole purpose of murdering Greg Rodriguez? Had they been partners, or had Javier wanted in on the crimes? Had Don asked—or paid—Javier to kill Greg?
“Penny for your thoughts.”
I jumped, looked around. I was so engrossed in my map and theories that I hadn’t seen Detective Villines come in. I had never met him, but he looked like a cop so I made the assumption.
“Tomas Villines?”
“That’s me.” He sat down at the stool across from me.
“I’ll give my thoughts to you for free. What’s your poison?”
“Guinness.”
I grinned. “Man after my heart.” I poured him a Guinness the proper way—which takes time. He saw my maps, frowned. “Yep,” I said. “I’ve solved your case.”
He shook his head, but I saw he was smiling. “Julia Henderson called me today. She had a meeting tonight at her diner with the other robbery victims and they identified all three kids in the yearbooks. Javier Escobar, Henry Diaz, and Bruno Martin. Multiple identifications.”
“They live in the same foster home, except that Javier is the son of the foster mom.”
“You know, down at headquarters this afternoon, Tina Barrios went off about you. I was lucky enough to overhear. She is not a fan of yours, so I didn’t share that I’d talked to you.”
I shrugged. I certainly didn’t care.
