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Cora winced. “Hey there, Saul.” She hesitated, and then decided to just press on quickly. “I need your help.”
“No.”
She frowned now, kicking the curb with one shoe. She shot a look back towards the taxi driver, who had finished his sandwich and was now smoking. This time, he didn’t bother to get out of the front seat, but kept sending puffs through the window, watching as the ash rose on the air.
“Just listen,” Cora said quickly. “I need your help. It’s a big one. Saul—”
“Ms. Shields,” he said carefully, “we can’t keep doing this. There are rules for a reason. I know you know that.”
“I get it. Really. Will it help to know that last night’s tip saved a woman’s life?” Cora trailed off.
Saul hesitated, then exhaled. “Is that true?”
Though he couldn’t see her, Cora held her hand to the sky. “Promise,” she said. “A pervert had her locked in his basement. I managed to get her out. She will be fine. I hope. But she would have been dead if you hadn’t told me, Saul. The cops weren’t doing anything about it. They weren’t watching his place either. They’re either too busy with the mayor, playing footsie with politicians, or worrying about chains of evidence.”
Saul sniffed. “Iwork with the police,” he said quietly. “And until last month, so did you. It isn’t becoming to insult your peers.”
Cora winced. She should have known better than to let her temper get away from her. In some ways, the fact that Saul was such a gentleman was charming. In other ways, it was downright irritating. He was never one to listen to gossip. He didn’t think much of idle talk.
Though, in her opinion, sometimes what he called gossip was just the cold, hard truth.
“Saul, it’s a big deal. You helped me save a woman’s life. Cops or not, peers or not, I’m doing work. And I need your help again.”
He didn’t reply. But at least he hadn’t hung up. As long as he allowed her to make the call, and he answered, she held onto hope that he was still willing to be of some aid.
In fact, now that he had actually answered his phone, it felt as if half the battle was won.
“What do you know about Russians in Miami?”
“What?” His voice snapped like a rubber band.
“So, there is something?”
A beleaguered sigh.
“I don’t need to know the details. I just need to know why they would be here. Especially anyone that’s on the watchlist. Ex-special forces. And why would they be working for the mayor?”
“As I’m sure you know, if anyone flagged is working for the mayor, it’s against guidance from the Bureau.”
“Of course.”
“Cora, I don’t know. I’m not down there. I wouldn’t even know where to look.”
“But?” She pressed.
He murmured softly, and she couldn’t make out what he was saying. But then, he said, “And, I think it might be worth perusing some of the colleagues Mayor Castillo has been associated with. Especially in the periodicals.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” he said, conversationally. “Only that I’m not at liberty to discuss ongoing investigations.”
He didn’t hang up, though. Which suggested that instead of shutting her down, he was trying to leave breadcrumbs.
But while she had been no slouch at navigation in the Navy, she had often relied a bit more on longitude and latitude than fragmented portions of pastry for guidance.
“Any chance you could spell it out for me a bit more there, Saul?”
A faint, inpatient huff of air. Brady was normally so good at controlling his temper that this surprised her. But then, carefully, clearing his throat, he said, “The best I can say,” he began, “is you may want to peruse the periodicals.”
