couple times.
Dripping wet and staring at the dead guy, Leon said, “You miserable old son of a bitch, you had some life in you, I’ll say that. All I did for you—even let you get your last blow job. And you got to give me a bad time. You and your fucking wolf-dog.”
Before heading back to the house, Leon went through the dead man’s robe and found his cell phone. So far, nothing had gone smoothly. First he met the asshole client. Then he ran into this crazy old bastard and his dog. Now he was wet, hungry, and pissed.
He had a lot of work yet to do. Not a good start to the night. Leon left Cillo’s and hiked back to his Raptor. He had his travel bag in the vehicle. Leon never left anything in a hotel room.
He changed, draping the wet clothes in the back seat. Then he headed for Jesup’s condo on the other side of South Lake. He wanted to get a hold of Jesup’s computer, notes, and files.
All the fun had gone out of the night.
22
Marco was asleep when Sydney got the call from her police-reporter friend. She went into the bathroom.
“Hi. Thanks for getting back to me. What did you find out?”
“Not a lot, but enough. You were right about this guy. His records have been sanitized. Wiped clean. I talked to a very solid source who knew all about Marco Cruz and his problems.”
“Federal?”
“Yes. He wouldn’t tell me anything real specific, for obvious reasons. Cruz ended up in a Mexican prison for unknown offenses. I’m not sure he was even charged, but if he was, it’s been cleaned. This was after he took out the guys who killed the border agent. It may or may not have been connected to the gun-walking deal.”
“How did he get away with being in Mexico?”
“He has relatives in Mexico. Some with questionable associations. Anyway, he ended up in prison for a time. All under a tight wrap. Can’t confirm anything about what happened. Then he’s out, vanishes for over a year. Now, apparently, he’s clean and in Tahoe. According to my source, he survived in prison because he was friendly with the big dog in there. Maybe the guy was a relative or a friend of a relative. He got released suddenly, without any explanation. Who got him out, and what he did to earn his freedom, or what he did for his benefactors, I don’t know. Whatever he did, somebody with lots of power liked him for it. And the only people who can clean records like that have a lot of federal power. Could even be the CIA. He was a perfect candidate for whatever they wanted—his military and border background, shady family ties. Like he was designed for clandestine activity.”
“Thanks. I appreciate your help.”
“Syd, how you’re connected with this guy, I don’t know…and maybe don’t want to know. But he’s not exactly someone you want to take home to Mom. Look, I know some rumors, and I don’t much like to deal in them—”
“What?”
“Well, this is rumor. After prison activities—and this is speculation because of timing and location—but it might be connected to the fall of one of Mexico’s most powerful families. That’s very much undercover as well. Information surfaced about connections beyond the cartels, reaching all the way to the Middle East. Somebody got that information and there’s this rumor—and that’s how it was put to me—that Marco Cruz was involved in the operation. People died. People ended up disappearing. It was supposedly a major operation. His role in it, I don’t know. But be careful—”
“I will. Thanks.”
“Syd, I don’t know what you’re doing, but—”
“Don’t ask. I won’t tell.”
Sydney hung up. When she walked back into the dark bedroom, Marco was still dead asleep. She stared at him, that rugged but handsome face, the scar on his neck, the mouth and nose, the curly hair, the dark skin.
He’s my guy, she thought. My dark knight.
She smiled. If he was half as bad as it appeared, Well, she thought, maybe he’s exactly what a girl needs when the most
Dripping wet and staring at the dead guy, Leon said, “You miserable old son of a bitch, you had some life in you, I’ll say that. All I did for you—even let you get your last blow job. And you got to give me a bad time. You and your fucking wolf-dog.”
Before heading back to the house, Leon went through the dead man’s robe and found his cell phone. So far, nothing had gone smoothly. First he met the asshole client. Then he ran into this crazy old bastard and his dog. Now he was wet, hungry, and pissed.
He had a lot of work yet to do. Not a good start to the night. Leon left Cillo’s and hiked back to his Raptor. He had his travel bag in the vehicle. Leon never left anything in a hotel room.
He changed, draping the wet clothes in the back seat. Then he headed for Jesup’s condo on the other side of South Lake. He wanted to get a hold of Jesup’s computer, notes, and files.
All the fun had gone out of the night.
22
Marco was asleep when Sydney got the call from her police-reporter friend. She went into the bathroom.
“Hi. Thanks for getting back to me. What did you find out?”
“Not a lot, but enough. You were right about this guy. His records have been sanitized. Wiped clean. I talked to a very solid source who knew all about Marco Cruz and his problems.”
“Federal?”
“Yes. He wouldn’t tell me anything real specific, for obvious reasons. Cruz ended up in a Mexican prison for unknown offenses. I’m not sure he was even charged, but if he was, it’s been cleaned. This was after he took out the guys who killed the border agent. It may or may not have been connected to the gun-walking deal.”
“How did he get away with being in Mexico?”
“He has relatives in Mexico. Some with questionable associations. Anyway, he ended up in prison for a time. All under a tight wrap. Can’t confirm anything about what happened. Then he’s out, vanishes for over a year. Now, apparently, he’s clean and in Tahoe. According to my source, he survived in prison because he was friendly with the big dog in there. Maybe the guy was a relative or a friend of a relative. He got released suddenly, without any explanation. Who got him out, and what he did to earn his freedom, or what he did for his benefactors, I don’t know. Whatever he did, somebody with lots of power liked him for it. And the only people who can clean records like that have a lot of federal power. Could even be the CIA. He was a perfect candidate for whatever they wanted—his military and border background, shady family ties. Like he was designed for clandestine activity.”
“Thanks. I appreciate your help.”
“Syd, how you’re connected with this guy, I don’t know…and maybe don’t want to know. But he’s not exactly someone you want to take home to Mom. Look, I know some rumors, and I don’t much like to deal in them—”
“What?”
“Well, this is rumor. After prison activities—and this is speculation because of timing and location—but it might be connected to the fall of one of Mexico’s most powerful families. That’s very much undercover as well. Information surfaced about connections beyond the cartels, reaching all the way to the Middle East. Somebody got that information and there’s this rumor—and that’s how it was put to me—that Marco Cruz was involved in the operation. People died. People ended up disappearing. It was supposedly a major operation. His role in it, I don’t know. But be careful—”
“I will. Thanks.”
“Syd, I don’t know what you’re doing, but—”
“Don’t ask. I won’t tell.”
Sydney hung up. When she walked back into the dark bedroom, Marco was still dead asleep. She stared at him, that rugged but handsome face, the scar on his neck, the mouth and nose, the curly hair, the dark skin.
He’s my guy, she thought. My dark knight.
She smiled. If he was half as bad as it appeared, Well, she thought, maybe he’s exactly what a girl needs when the most
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