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“Dude,English.”
“How old are you, Cora? Don’t you read?”
“What’s reading?” She muttered.
But now, she was starting to realize what he was hinting at. She scrolled on her phone to a recent webpage, searched the name of the mayor, but kept heading back in time, scanning through some of the photographs on front pages.
And now she realized why he had directed her there. Behind the mayor in more than one of the photos, she glimpsed members of his security team. And occasionally, under the photographs, the names of the security agents were listed.
She scanned from one article to the next, scrolling slowly. None of the names popped. None of them sounded particularly Russian. And none of the figures matched people she had seen before.
She kept going back. And then, she hesitated. A couple of articles from three weeks ago. The same night Castillo’s wife had been killed. And there, a press conference photo op.
And behind the mayor, a couple of men wearing black outfits.
One of them she recognized: close cut hair, mean eyes. The same man she had beat up in the bathroom. And as she glanced down at the name, she whistled.Karpov, Isaac.
She knew that last name. Anyone who stared at the top ten wanted list for a few seconds would recognize the last name. Isaac...she didn’t know. But Karpov, out of Miami?
“Organized crime?” She blurted into the phone.
Saul shushed her. Cora glanced towards the kiosk, where the two skateboarders were now trying to yank a sandwich from the hand of the shop owner.
Frowning, she approached them from behind, tapped the one wearing the Navy shirt from behind on the shoulder, and when he turned, she pointed at his face, and then pointed in any direction except the kiosk.
Brady was now reprimanding her for not being more subtle. But she lowered her phone, deciding that this was more for his sake than hers.
The two skateboarders were scowling at her. One of them jammed his chin in her direction. Part of her wanted to slap him. But she decided that violence couldn’t be the only solution she used. So, she smiled sweetly. And then she slapped him.
Self-improvement came in baby steps.
He yelped, stunned. His friend gaped at her as if she had just declared herself queen of the underworld.
She pointed at him now. “Get out of here,” she said simply. “And do it before I make you take that shirt off.”
He glanced down at the Navy symbol, then up at her, his eyes moving along the many tattoos over her arms. The boy she had slapped was nursing his face.
He glared at her as well. The two petulant teenagers seemed to be deciding if they wanted to go for it.
She raised her phone, and quietly said, “Saul, if I lose connection, it’s because I’m busy beating up a couple of kids. I promise not to break too many of their fingers. But if they make me, I will.”
She heard Saul squawk. Tried to protest. But she lowered her phone again.
The two kids, glancing at each other, seemed to reach a decision. Both of them muttered crude comments beneath their breaths but turned and stalked away. After a few paces, their skateboards hit the ground. One of them paused to try and chuck a rock at her. It missed.
She just watched them both, her eyes like that of a snake in tall grass. They hastened away, shouting all manners of disgusting comments back at her. The owner of the sandwich shop was smiling pleasantly. A wide, Latino man with big, puffy cheeks. He looked friendly. In the same way that those pictures from the serial killer’s phone had looked so friendly.
Though Cora didn’t need a reminder that people couldn’t always be trusted.
Still, she didn’t want to get cynical.
So, she smiled back.
He glanced down at the sandwich that they had been tugging from his hand, and then held it towards her, shrugging.
Her stomach twisted. And now she actually grinned for real. “Thanks,” she muttered.
The man smiled politely, handing the sandwich over, which she readily accepted, tore the foil off, and began munching before remembering she was still on a call. She lifted her phone again, to hear Saul chiding. “...Now, I do not mean to be intrusive, but that is my thought on the matter, Ms. Shields. Truly, I do apologize if this mild rebuke ruffles any feathers, but I said what I needed to.”
