Page 74 of Bitter Spirits

“That can’t be good.”

“It’s not.” His voice was all sorts of grim, but he couldn’t help it. He nudged her back into the living room. “We need to get him locked down ASAP.”

“That requires finding him first.” She moved around the overturned sofa.

“Yeah, I’m aware.” He followed her. “But the only thing we have to go on is that he’s going after Angel.”

She stopped near the front door and turned back to him. “Can’t you track Carter?”

“Easily, but I’m betting I won’t get past the parking lot downstairs. As soon as he gets in a car and takes off, I’ll have limited options, none of which will allow us to move fast. Might be easier to get ahead of him before he implodes and takes everyone with him.”

“Implodes?”

“Got a better description for losing your shit the way Leo and Micah did?”

She shook her head, but she looked doubtful.

“What?” he asked.

Her answer, when it came, was in an un-Isa-like, carefully modulated tone. “Even if we manage to stop Carter or Angel, it’s too late. It’s out there.”

He knew exactly what she was implying, and since she was inexorably tangled up in this mess—and, Locke hoped, with him—he broke one of his own rules and shared confidential information with her. “Which is why Emilio is trying to get irrefutable evidence to present to the Council.”

A small frown of surprise marred her forehead. “He’s backing the Council into a corner?”

“He’s trying.”

Her attention shifted away as she processed his answer. “Huh.”

Locke got close and tilted his head to catch her eye and get her to focus back on him. “So, I’ve got to ask—you got any ideas on where Angel would go if he’s trying to slither back into the shadows?”

The gold flecks in her eyes deepened, her hazel gaze going unfocused, as she worried her lip. Long, quiet seconds ticked by before she met his eyes with wary resignation. “Maybe.”

Locke pulled into an empty spot in front of a redbrick building on the downtown street. On the ride over, Isa had remained strangely stiff and silent, her I don’t want to talk about it vibe loud and clear. He’d given her space, but now that they had arrived, he had questions. He braced an arm on the steering wheel and peered through the passenger-side window. A far cry from the modern glass office buildings and older, dust-coated adobe ones, this one-story Craftsman-style structure sat on a thick cement slab and had a peaked roof and wide wraparound porch. A discreet sign on the building’s exterior bore the name Voces Unidos.

“What is this place?” he asked.

Isa stayed turned toward her door, gripping the handle. “They help local businesses get off the ground.”

“And they’re going to know where Angel is?” he asked incredulously.

“If anyone does, they will.” Her voice was flat as tension spun around her.

“Is this a front?”

That got her attention. She turned to him, bemused. “What?”

“Is this place a front or something? Is that why they would know where to find someone like Angel?”

“No, but”—she opened her door—“my dad and Pilar run this place.” She got out of the car.

“Well, shit.” The quiet curse chased the slam of the passenger door.

Part of him hated putting her through this, but a bigger part understood the necessity. He waited for a break in traffic before getting out of the car then met Isa on the sidewalk. Behind her, the window blinds were drawn against the afternoon sun. Taking advantage of the momentary privacy, he took her hand and brought her into his side.

Even knowing it was a stupid question, he asked, “You sure about this?”

Her fingers tightened on his as she looked at him. “I’m sure we need to stop Angel.”