Blood and Bone by Austin Camacho Page A

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    â€œAnyway, I need a statement. Just tell me everything that happened after you got to the building your missing person used to live in. Now, first your full name.” Dalton typed quickly with two fingers. He turned the paper up to the address line, but stopped there. “What the hell kind of a name is Hannibal anyway?”
    â€œMy folks wanted to name me after a great conquering general,” Hannibal grinned. “Alexander was too common, I guess, and Germans don’t think much of Napoleon.”
    â€œGermans?”
    â€œLong story,” Hannibal said.
    When Hannibal stepped into the sun, he found Ray in the limo, dozing behind the wheel. He managed to open the door and climb into the back seat without waking his driver. After pulling off his shoes, he stretched his legs out on the white leather and pulled out his flip phone. After getting through a dispatcher, he managed to get Orson Rissik on the phone.
    â€œHey, I’m glad you called. We found your car.”
    â€œAlleluia!” Hannibal snapped a fist into the air. “Where was it?”
    â€œHe ran it out of gas on a side street in Pennsylvania. I’ve already had an officer drive it back here.”
    â€œYou’re a hell of a cop, Orson,” Hannibal said. “What about the killer’s own car?”
    â€œStolen too,” Rissik said. There was a funny pause which made Hannibal tune in to the phone more closely. “In fact, he stole it from a guy in Baltimore,” Rissik continued. “Funny thing, the car was never reported stolen until about half an hour before Paton’s murder.”
    â€œI got something funnier for you,” Hannibal said. “And I want you to remember I was cooperative with you, sharing what I got.”
    Hannibal could feel Rissik’s smile over the phone. “Understood.”
    Sure was a pleasure dealing with a pro. “Ike Paton was really a hard case named Patrick Louis. Got a record up here and he was in the rackets.”
    â€œThanks,” Rissik said, and Hannibal could imagine him examining his own cards to see if he had anything Hannibal might want. When he finally spoke, he said, “You know, I was thinking you might like to meet the shooter again.”
    â€œYou got that right.”
    â€œWell, I was going to ask the Baltimore cops to check out the owner of the getaway vehicle,” Rissik said, “but our interagency cooperation isn’t always what it could be, you know. Would you consider doing a Virginia cop a favor?”
    Hannibal’s grin broadened as he swung his feet back to the floor. “I think I’ve got a couple of hours to kill. If it would help you out, Detective Rissik, I’d be happy to check out the car’s owner for you. Just give me his name and address.”
    Hannibal hit the disconnect button and immediately punched in another number from memory. He had called the offices of Nieswand and Balor earlier but he was not smiling this much when he spoke to the receptionist before. His heart always lifted when he asked to speak to Cynthia Santiago. He was humming an old soul ballad when she came on the line.
    â€œHello.”
    â€œCindy, it’s me,” he said. “How’s the day going?”
    â€œI’m pretty busy right now.”
    Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “I see. Well, how about breaking away from all that. The cops tell me they found my car and it’s drivable. Why don’t you bring it up here and we can have dinner somewhere and you can help out on this case.”
    Long pause. “Why?”
    â€œWhy?” Hannibal was shaken. Did he forget a birthday or something? “Because I don’t get to see enough of you when I’m on a case. And because I’ve got to ask somebody some questions and it would help to have an attorney on the scene.” After a few seconds of silence, he said, “Cindy? You there?”
    â€œYes. Will this help