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It was somewhat emotional when Saul Brady was the one to break down the door.
Flanked by men and women in FBI blazers, Agent Brady stepped into the room with the dead thugs and the dead mobster.
Cora, of course, had already decided to play a role.
Brady had flown down himself. It had taken hours. Hours trapped in a stinky, smelly room. Hours in which she hadn’t known if anyone was on the other side of the door waiting to shoot, or if all the thugs had fled when their boss had been caught.
And then after hours, she heard shouting. Voices. The FBI had arrived. Saul led the charge now. And he stared at her. She was crumpled in one corner, arms around her knees, sobbing. Mascara streaking.
The FBI agents spotted the bodies. They, like everyone else, underestimated her. Brady, though, instantly saw through the act. He stared at her. She paused long enough to give him a wink. But then the tears and the sobbing continued.
A couple of the agents were checking the pulses of the fallen guards. One of them, who looked to be in charge, was muttering, “Holy shit. It must’ve been a whole army down here.”
Cora allowed agent Brady to slowly lead her away. The dignified man, with the pale, trimmed beard, nodded politely as he led her past the second agent. “Just going to get the witness a little fresh air,” he said. “She’s my CI.”
The fed stepped aside.
As he led her through a sea of blue jackets—cops, federals, and everything in between—she picked up the pace. She smiled as she did. “Thanks Saul,” she muttered.
They reached the top of the stairs. Men were kneeling on the ground, hands cuffed behind them. She quickly looked off to the side, hiding her face. Tito was there. It was best not to be recognized. If anyone in blue had the faintest whiff thatshewas the person who had shot up the nightclub she felt confident that they wouldn’t let her leave.
Saul, though, had already given his word. Her freedom in exchange for Alex. She hoped no one would ask too many questions. And since Saul was going to be the one to make the call, she hoped the career plaudits would more than make up for any trouble she had been causing him. He brought her to the sidewalk with no issue. It was amazing the sorts of things the right shirt and badge could do.
As they stood on the sidewalk, though, his voice dropped. “You said you had evidence?”
“That kid there,” she murmured. “His name is Tito. Here’s his wallet. The address on that paper,” she said quietly, keeping her voice low, “I looked it up while I was waiting. Known drug den. There are names on that list, bank account numbers, and payments. If you talk to Tito, he will crack. Guaranteed.”
Saul nodded appreciatively. He shot her a sidelong glance. “You look out of your element.”
She smirked. It was the nicest thing he could’ve said given the situation. “I have to get out of here, Saul.”
“What are you doing, Cora?” Her old partner said.
There was a definite note of disappointment to his voice. She didn’t like hearing it, but she also knew better than to push back. Saul had often taken the role of her conscience. She didn’t resent him for it, but she also knew that, sometimes, people had to be allowed to make their own mistakes.
She wondered if this was the sort of logic that had led the mayor to get in bed with his brother. A cartel. A super cartel, binding together smaller gangs, and using their combined might to lash out.
She sighed. “I need you to look something up. Does Mayor Castillo have a brother?”
Saul frowned. “Yes.”
“You just know that?”
They were both standing next to each other in the curb, voices low.
“Hey,” a voice suddenly shouted. “You. Hey, you Carla!”
An angry, bitter voice.
She began to walk away. Saul came with her and as they moved down the street, Saul led her towards his car. The angry shouts from Tito faded.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tom watched as the man in the white coat threw a temper tantrum, marched up and down the deck, screamed into the spray over the railing, and occasionally paused long enough to find another piece of furniture to fling into the ocean.
Tom didn’t smile, but the whole scene amused him. Equally amusing was the faint weeping sounds coming from the hooded figure at his side.
Orders had changed. He’d intended to gut her there in the alley, but then the phone call came.
