Cruz’s eyes went slowly, disbelievingly to hers. “What?” he croaked.
“Go ahead. Live dangerously,” she urged.
It seemed an eternity before his fantasy-filled brain correctly interpreted her meaning, and noticed the cheeseburger she was holding out to him. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “I think you’re the one living dangerously.” More dangerously than she knew, he thought grimly, because her words, on the heels of his very impure thoughts, were enough to incite a saint. Which he definitely wasn’t. “And I think it’s safe to say that you could tempt me very easily,” he added with blatant meaning. “But not with that cheeseburger.”
Madeline’s eyes, full of fun a moment ago, grew uncertain. She lowered the sandwich and reached for her glass of milk, her hand a little unsteady. What had caused such a drastic change in his mood? she wondered. One minute he was lecturing her about her eating habits and the next he was talking as if… well, as if food were the last thing on his mind. But surely he hadn’t meant his words to sound that way. Had he?
“When they haul you into the operating room to unclog your arteries, remind me to say ‘I told you so.’” He changed the subject purposely. The last thing he needed was to be sidetracked by his awareness of her. He was no longer certain he could keep that out of their partnership, but it would surely help if he could restrain his overactive imagination. He chewed reflectively. He’d never before had such a problem. He was a master at separating the different areas of his life into neat compartments and never letting them mix. No woman had been allowed to creep into his thoughts when he was working, and that made Madeline even more troublesome. It was impossible not to think of her when he was working by her side eight hours a day. But he was going to have to be sure that his thoughts of her pertained only to the case. A week ago he would have been positive that such a thing would be easy. Now he was not so certain.
He finished eating before Madeline did, and she knew it was because of the difficulty she was having swallowing. She was thankful when the meal was over because, although he seemed to have no problem reverting back to his usual carefree manner, it was hard for her to forget his words. But she must have mistaken his meaning. He didn’t seem bothered at all now, just slightly impatient as he waited for her to finish.
She rose. Cruz followed, and his gaze went to her plate. The lettuce and tomato that she’d taken off her sandwich were piled neatly in a corner of the otherwise empty dish.
“Don’t tell me,” he drawled. “You don’t eat red things, either.”
“I’m sure you can find more interesting things to worry about than what I eat,” she said. She would copy his indifferent manner if it killed her. But she was startled when, at the door, he turned to her and took her jacket out of her hands.
“Put this on,” he ordered brusquely. “It’s a little chilly outside.”
She allowed him to help her with the jacket and walked out the door, puzzling over his abrupt mood changes.
Madeline drove for the rest of the afternoon, at Cruz’s direction. Three times he ordered her to stop the car and they got out. Each time they talked to men who were unenthusiastic about their presence there. All of them professed to have reformed, swearing that they were currently living saintly lives. None admitted to having any information that would help the investigation.
The next few days were spent in much the same way. After several mornings of sifting through the pages of serial numbers, they admitted defeat. No match for the number of Stover’s gun could be found. Nor were they having any better luck following up Cruz’s idea in the afternoons. It seemed as if the case were leading them to one dead end after another, and that made suspicion bloom in Madeline’s mind.
Was Cruz doing this purposely? The people they’d talked to were small-time, and none of them admitted to hearing of any AK-47s being sold on the streets. She had to wonder if this was just a wild-goose chase Cruz was leading her on; something that wasted a lot of time and energy, but brought them no closer to the supplier. It was what she would do if she was involved in the deal-come up with ideas that led the investigation farther away from her.
Her suspicions were strong enough that on two nights she left headquarters, and drove directly to the Internal Affairs building. She spent hours poring over her data bases, bringing up the names of people in the area who’d been convicted for selling guns illegally. She eliminated those whose addresses were no longer in the Philadelphia area, and those still in jail. When she’d finished, she had a list of several names. Madeline was bemused to note that many of the names matched those of the people Cruz had found for them to talk to. But when she crossed them off the list there were still a few individuals she hadn’t heard Cruz mention.
She studied the information she could find on each of the people on the list, and finally decided that their best bet would be to check on one Jose Valdez. He had twelve arrests and nine convictions, all on charges ranging from illegal sales to possession of firearms. She decided to wait and see if Cruz would mention him.
Because if he didn’t, she would.
By midweek their search had yielded no results. Madeline frowned slightly as they pulled away from the last man they’d talked to. The similarity was a red flag to her. Things didn’t stay that quiet on the streets. There were always people on the fringes, uninvolved but aware of everything that occurred. It was impossible for everyone they talked to to be ignorant of the gun sales. If gang members could get their hands on the weapons, the word had to be out there.
Which left a couple of possibilities. Either their hunch was wrong, and no one dealer was supplying the punks with those guns, or the supplier was someone so powerful that the thought of crossing him had scared everyone into keeping quiet.
She immediately discounted the first possibility. She didn’t believe in coincidence. Those gangs hadn’t all chosen the exact same kind of weapon by chance. So that left the second choice. An interesting idea, but it didn’t help pinpoint the supplier’s identity. There were numerous underworld toughs whose names alone would be enough to strike terror on the street. It could be any one of them. Or none of them.
It could even be… Her eyes slid to the man next to her. It was time, she thought, for her to change the course of this investigation. Cruz obviously wasn’t going to mention finding Valdez. Either he didn’t know of the man or he didn’t want her talking to him. So she would mention him, and closely observe Cruz’s reaction.
But before she could carry out that plan, he spoke. “Maybe we’ve been going about this all wrong.”
For a moment she wondered if he’d read her mind. “How do you mean?” she asked cautiously.
His face was pensive. “Maybe we’ve been approaching this too directly. If the supplier isn’t an unknown on the street, he could be someone no one is willing to tangle with.”
His thoughts so closely paralleled her own that Madeline was shocked. Finally she said, “You mean it could be someone people fear too much to cross?”
“Exactly. Let’s change our tactics. We’re going to have to be a bit more discreet in our inquiries. If our hunch is right, no one is going to talk to us unless they feel safe. We have to arrange to get the information from someone who won’t be afraid to risk his safety.”
“Do you have anyone in mind?”
“Maybe. I know of a snitch, Tommy Grady, who I’ve used occasionally. I think it’s time to check in with him.”
That name hadn’t appeared on the computer screen. “Has he been involved in arms sales before?” she asked.
“Nothing that big. Although he’ll go to great lengths to get enough money for a bottle, he’s mostly small-time. Been convicted a couple of times for breaking and entering.” He looked across the seat at her. “Want to go for it?”
“Sure,” she agreed, and settled back as he began to drive. She’d wait a little longer.
Cruz drove for several minutes before pulling over at a newspaper stand outside a hotel that had seen better days. He got out of the car, and she followed. She watched as he selected a paper and paid the vendor for it. As the money exchanged hands, she heard him murmur to the vendor, “Tell Tommy that Martinez is looking for him.”
The man gave no indication that he’d heard the words, and they got back in the car and drove off. “How do you know he’ll get the word to the snitch?” Madeline demanded.
“Turn around.”
She stared at him for a moment, then obeyed. She saw a youngster of about eight wearing ragged jeans and no shirt running down the sidewalk, away from the newspaper stand. She turned back. Cruz was watching in the rearview mirror. “The kid will get Tommy. All we have to do is wait for a while and give him enough time to find us.”
After driving aimlessly for over an hour, Cruz stopped at a convenience store and bought two ice-cream cones. He left the car in the parking lot and steered Madeline across the street, to a small, unkempt-looking park. It was little more than a square of patchy grass with a few broken benches scattered around it. Several children were playing in the area. There was no playground or equipment, but she noticed a game of stickball and another of soccer going on.
They walked in a seemingly desultory fashion, and then stopped at a huge oak tree. Cruz sat beneath it, propping himself against its trunk. “You may as well sit down,” he invited. “I don’t know how long Tommy will be.”
Madeline sat next to him, after first inspecting the area for insects. “How do you even know he’ll come?”
“He always does,” he answered, his eyes squinting as he looked across the park into the bright sunlight. “He’ll do anything for money.”
“If he’s that motivated to get paid, you can’t be sure that the information he gives you will be accurate,” she observed.
“Yes, I can.” He mocked her words. “Because he gets most of the money after I check out the information he gives me. Give me a little credit, Madeline. I’ve been around long enough to know how to work a snitch.”
She subsided and they sat in silence for a while. The breeze was cool beneath the shade, but pleasantly so. She finished her ice-cream cone and stifled a yawn. If Tommy didn’t show soon, she was afraid she’d fall asleep. Cruz looked as if he had already. His head was leaning back against the tree, and his chest was rising and falling evenly. She didn’t say anything about it, though. She’d learned that he took every available opportunity to rest, but his peacefulness was a sham. He always stayed very much aware of what was happening around him.
When a voice spoke from the other side of the tree, it was she, not Cruz, who started violently. Cruz merely opened his eyes and said, “Hi, Tommy.”
“Hey, Martinez, what you got for me, huh?”
Madeline studied the man who’d just moved in front of her. It was easy to see that the ravages of alcohol had taken their toll on him. He had a broad face, but it was puffy, and his nose, which looked as though it had been broken more than once, was crisscrossed with a tiny network of red veins. There were pouches under his eyes, and his hands shook as he attempted to take out a cigarette and light it. He squinted at the two of them through the smoke.
“How’ve you been?” Cruz’s tone was friendly as he got to his feet. Madeline followed suit.
“Fine, great, I really need some money, though, you know? I’ve got some things to take care of.”
Cruz was sure that Tommy most wanted to take care of his next drink, but he pressed a folded-up bill into his hand.
The man pocketed it in one sure motion, and Madeline blinked. As shaky as his hands had seemed a moment ago, the bill had disappeared with a surprisingly smooth movement.
“That ain’t enough,” the man mumbled, looking furtively to the right and left of them. “You know that ain’t enough.”
“You get the rest of it if you can tell me something that helps me out, just like always.”
“It ain’t enough for what you want to know, though,” the man argued. “A guy could get killed telling you what you want to know.”
Cruz’s gaze narrowed. “And you’re certain you know what information I’m looking for?”
“Sure I do,” Tommy bragged. He took short, quick draws on his cigarette. “I heard you been asking around about who’s been putting those fancy assault guns on the streets. Heard no one’s been talking, either.”
“You hear a lot,” Madeline observed.
“Enough to tell you who you should be alter,” he affirmed. His eyes continually darted from side to side. He ground his cigarette out beneath his heel and lit another one. “Enough to know I’d be crazy to be seen talking to you for less than a thousand bucks.”
Madeline’s eyes widened, but Cruz just laughed. “Get real, Tommy. You know that isn’t going to happen. You’ll get the same as always.”
The man wheedled, “C’mon, Martinez, this name you want, it’s the real thing. I’m going to have to lay low for a while, just to stay safe. What if someone sees us talking? Did you ever wonder why no one else on the street would say a word? They ain’t crazy. Me, I’m crazy enough to help you out, but you gotta make it worth my while.”
Craziness didn’t enter into it, Cruz knew. Desperation was more like it. Tommy would sell his grandmother for the sake of a drink. “We’ll see,” he said skeptically. He handed the man a couple more bills, and they vanished with the same speed as the first. “You aren’t getting any more until after I check out what you tell me. So what do you have?”
Tommy looked around nervously once more. He leaned closer and lowered his voice, although there was no one within two hunched yards of them. “You talked to a lot of people. Have you talked to Jose Valdez yet?”
Cruz pulled out his notebook and wrote the name down. “Who is he?”
“He served time in prison nine different times, all on firearm charges,” Madeline answered. “He’s been out for eight months.”
Both men looked at her in surprise. Cruz didn’t look pleased at her knowledge. He shot her a hard look before turning his gaze back to Tommy. “Where can we find him?”
Tommy mentioned a few places the man might be found, adding, “I don’t know where he lives or nothing.”
“Don’t worry,” Cruz answered dryly, “I’m sure Detective Casey can help me out with that.”
“Remember, you owe me, Martinez.” The second cigarette was snuffed out under Tommy’s well-worn sneaker.
“We’ll see.”
Without further words Tommy backed away, and then melted into the trees.
Cruz and Madeline walked through the park toward their car, which was parked across the street. “Would you mind telling me how you knew about Valdez?” he asked.
She recounted her research, choosing her words carefully to avoid telling him what had motivated her to look up the names in the first place.
“When were you going to tell me about this?” he asked tersely, and she looked at him warily. He seemed angry at this latest bit of news. His long legs were crossing the street in long strides. She wondered if it was because she hadn’t told him about the work she’d done on her own or if it stemmed from another, more ominous reason.
“Eventually.” She finally answered his terse question. “Once you were out of ideas of your own.”
They had reached the car by now and he stopped, not getting in. “Look, Madeline, we’re partners. You understand what that word means, don’t you? It means we share information. You were the one who insisted we work together at all times, and I agreed to that.”
“It’s no big deal.” She met his gaze squarely. “I had a hunch, so I put together a list of released felons who’d served time for firearm charges.” She fished in her purse, pulled the list out and handed it to him. His eyes scanned the sheet quickly, saw the names that were already crossed out and grunted before handing it back to her. “If you’d shown this to me earlier you could have saved the department some money.”
She shrugged and replaced the paper in her purse. “Not necessarily. Valdez was the one I would have wanted to talk to first, but at least Tommy corroborated that he’s a suspect.” She got in the car.
Cruz was silent as he pulled out of the parking lot. He still wore a slight frown on his face. She wished she knew what was bothering him. He didn’t speak again until he asked for Valdez’s address. She gave it to him without consulting the sheet in her purse, and that seemed to annoy him even more. “Do you have microchips for brains?” he asked. “How the hell do you remember all that?”
She shrugged. She’d long ago found it was futile to question the ability she had. She just accepted it. “It’s a gift.”
“Kids in your high school must have hated having you in their classes. You had to really throw off the curve at test time.”
As they drove deeper into the city, the surroundings grew more deteriorated. She was not surprised that Valdez’s address was going to be found in one of the worst slums in the city. “Did you hate people like that when you were in high school?”
“Mostly I spent my time trying to set up study dates with girls like you.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” she said dryly. Dates of any kind had been scarce when she was a teenager. Her natural reserve had made her hard to get to know. And the fact that she had towered over most of the boys in her class hadn’t increased her social life, either. She was sure that any dates Cruz Martinez had set up probably had had very little to do with studying, unless he’d taken classes in anatomy.
“What’s the matter, didn’t you ever have study dates?” he asked. “You know, where you pretended to go to the library to study, and then spent the evening making out in the stacks?”
“You obviously had a very depraved adolescence.”
“Not really,” he denied. “I was just naturally curious. I was always interested in learning something new.”
She could tell by his tone that his love of learning had less to do with books than with getting a girl behind them. Apparently some things never changed.
He pulled the car over to park next to a large, dark building. Half-naked children played on the front porch, and next to the building a man huddled, rocking back and forth mumbling to himself, oblivious to the activity around him.
They walked up the steps and the children fell silent, staring at them with wary eyes. Once they entered the building they could hear the voices behind them resume. Cruz knocked on the door immediately inside the building, and a voice called out, “Who’s there?”
They exchanged a look and without words decided that for now, they wouldn’t identify themselves. “I’m looking for Jose Valdez,” Madeline answered.
“Room 457,” the voice answered. The door never opened. They turned and climbed the open wooden staircase.
“I can’t believe this building can pass fire codes,” Madeline said. Plaster was missing in numerous places in the wall, and wires showed through among the laths. The hallways were littered and had a sour smell.
“There are probably few in this neighborhood that could,” Cruz answered.
They reached the fourth floor and knocked at room 457. There was no answer. They both waited, listening for sounds of movement, but the room was silent. Finally they turned away.
When they were on the street again Madeline asked, “So next we try the places Tommy named where Valdez hangs out, right?”
Cruz hesitated. “Not today,” he said, after a moment. “It’s getting late and I have other plans tonight.”
Madeline rolled her eyes, immediately drawing her own conclusion about what those plans entailed. “You can break your date, Martinez. Whoever she is, she’ll recover.”
He neither confirmed nor denied her assumption. “I can’t put this off. But I promise we can work as late as you want tomorrow.” He shot her a warning glance. “I wouldn’t advise you to check out any of the places on your own tonight. It wouldn’t be safe, even for a cop, to be in any of those areas alone.”
“I don’t need you to watch over me,” she assured him.
“I mean it, Madeline.” His voice was implacable. “I’d better not find that you went out by yourself. We’re in this together. You insisted on that, and you’re going to have to live with your own rules.”
She couldn’t help wondering at his real reason for issuing the warning. Was it fear for her safety, or did he merely want to be at her side when they found Valdez, to ensure that the man said nothing that would incriminate him?
She left him at the parking lot after he made her promise she’d wait until tomorrow to continue the search for Valdez. He certainly was single-minded. He badgered her until she agreed, and then fixed her with a long look and said, “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Madeline grimaced at his departing figure as she got into her own car. Maybe he wasn’t afraid of what she would find out, after all. Perhaps it was simply ego-he didn’t want her making any strides in the case without him. It wasn’t going to hurt to wait until the morning, but she was curious as to what was so important that he couldn’t cancel it for tonight.
An idea suddenly struck then. She watched as he got into his own car and began leaving the lot. He certainly seemed in a hurry tonight. The royal blue low-slung sports car turned into the street. She gave him a few moments and followed slowly. She made sure that she maintained a four-car distance between them, in case he happened to glance in his rearview mirror.
It was almost a miracle during the rush-hour traffic, but Madeline was able to keep him in sight. Twenty minutes later he double-parked in front of a building, got out of the car and dashed inside. Madeline cruised by and went down to the corner to read the street sign. Great, she thought with a sigh. She’d just managed to successfully tail him to his home. She eyed his car again speculatively. He probably was leaving again shortly, unless he was going to push his luck with a parking ticket. She decided to stick around a bit longer. She pulled in to a nearby alley.
Her vigil was rewarded. A half hour later Cruz came out the door. He’d changed into dark pants and a green shirt. He checked his watch as he bounded down the steps and got back into his car. Madeline waited until it had roared away to start her own engine and take up the tail again. They drove for more than half an hour. Long enough for her to reflect that this was the first time she’d seen him in anything resembling dress clothes, and for her to spend time wondering what had warranted such a change. She was certainly going to feel silly if she followed him all this time, only to find that he was hurrying to a hot date. She refused to consider that the discovery would elicit any other emotion.
Madeline recognized the area he was leading her into. There were many business buildings lining the streets, as well as occasional condominiums and several restaurants. She was dismayed when, a moment later, he ran a yellow light. The next second it turned red.
She stared at the line of cars between her and the corner, and slapped both palms on the steering wheel in disgust. The moments until the light turned green again seemed an eternity. She headed in the direction he’d gone, but it was quickly apparent that she’d lost him. Damn, damn, damn, she thought in chagrin. She hated to get this close, just to fail. Not that she had any real idea of how close she’d gotten. There was no way of knowing if Cruz was somewhere in the neighborhood, or if he would be driving for another half hour. Just as there was no way to tell now what his plans for the night entailed.
More than likely he had nothing more devious lined up for the evening than a leisurely dinner with a beautiful woman. If that was the case Madeline was almost glad she hadn’t managed to follow him. But if Cruz had been going to meet with someone involved in the guns, she’d just missed a valuable opportunity, indeed.
Thoughts morose, she continued backtracking until she neared the neighborhood where Cruz lived. Without even really planning it, she drove to his street and parked down the block. Perhaps something could be salvaged from this evening, after all. He’d said a tenant had moved out of his building. If she pretended to be interested in the vacant apartment, maybe she would be able to learn something from the landlord. It was worth a try, anyway.
She walked up the block and entered the building. A woman was in the hallway sweeping, her back to Madeline.
“Excuse me, could you tell me where I might find the landlord?”
The woman turned around. She was in her late fifties, Madeline estimated, and at least forty pounds overweight. Her hair was a garish shade of blond and she wore a housecoat with huge roses on it. Ariel should meet this woman, Madeline thought with amusement. They’d probably be soul mates.
“You found her, honey. What can I do you for?” the woman said with a smile.
“A friend of mine told me that this building might have an apartment for rent. I was wondering if I could look at it.”
“Are you the one I talked to on the phone today?”
Madeline blinked. “I… no, I didn’t call earlier. You haven’t rented it already, have you?”
The woman shook her head. “No, I guess not. Talked to someone who seemed mighty interested on the phone. She was supposed to come see it. But if you ain’t her, well, I guess nothing’d be hurt to take you through it. You’re here first, after all.”
A sigh escaped Madeline and she smiled. “Great.”
The woman took a large bunch of keys from one of the oversize pockets on the front of her dress. “We’ll have to take the stairs- the elevator isn’t working. Should be running again soon, though. The owner is real good about fixing stuff like that.”
Madeline looked around interestedly as they climbed. The building was old, but had obviously been kept up. The ceilings were extremely high, and in good condition. The paint in the hallways looked fresh and everything seemed clean.
“There are four apartments on each floor, and each has two bedrooms, a kitchen and bathroom, plus a living room. All are unfurnished. No pets allowed, and the rent is due on the first of each month.” The woman named a price that was less than what Madeline was paying for her own place, and she wondered if she’d wasted her time by coming here. Cruz might be saving money by buying such an apartment. That would help explain how he’d managed to save enough to for that fancy car of his.
“Here we are.” The woman unlocked a door on the fifth floor and threw it open. She allowed Madeline to enter and then followed her in, keeping up a running litany of the apartment’s advantages. Madeline looked around with genuine interest. Although the carpet was somewhat shabby, there was a certain charm in the old-fashioned woodwork and large windows.
“Well, what do you think?” the woman asked after they had looked in all the rooms and closets.
“It’s nice,” Madeline answered truthfully.
The woman beamed. “Most people like it here. Our tenants stay with us for a while. We don’t get many vacancies.”
They stepped back into the hallway and the woman locked the door carefully.
“Are all the apartments in the building similar to this one?” Madeline asked as they began to walk down the stairs.
“Yep. Well, all but one,” the woman corrected herself. “About six months ago the owner sold the top floor to one tenant, and he’s remodeled it into one large apartment for himself.” She glanced slyly at Madeline. “He’s another reason this building might appeal to you. You’d probably run into him. And he’s definitely worth running into. He’s what you young women call a real hunk.”
“Sounds interesting,” Madeline forced herself to say. “What’s he do?”
“Oh, he’s a cop, a detective. Now that’s kind of romantic, ain’t it? And he’s a real nice guy, too. If you take the apartment I’ll introduce the two of you. I’m always after Cruz-that’s his name,” she added in an aside, “to meet some nice young thing and settle down. Life’s too short, I tell him…”
Madeline listened with only one ear as the woman rattled on. Her mind was racing. How much would it cost to buy an entire floor of such a building? And then to renovate it? She couldn’t even guess, but she knew it would be expensive. It would cost substantially more than the amount of the loan Cruz had taken out for the property. She would have to investigate the matter further when the courthouse opened in the morning.
After extricating herself from the landlady, Madeline drove back to the Internal Affairs headquarters and typed up a report detailing the week’s investigation results. The hour was late enough that she could be assured of avoiding Brewer, and for that she was fiercely glad. She wasn’t ready to put up with one of his grillings. She hesitated a moment, her fingers poised over the keys. The sports car and the apartment meant nothing by themselves, but taken together, they pointed to an obvious conclusion. Slowly she recommenced typing.
She was going to have to report the fact that Cruz Martinez seemed to have a second source of income.
The next morning Madeline left a phone message for Cruz that she would be late. Then she drove to the courthouse as soon as it opened. Buyers of property were required to file numerous legal papers, most of which were available for public scrutiny. She requested the necessary information and waited impatiently until the woman placed the file in front of her. Flipping it open, she scanned it briefly, until she found the item she sought. Even prepared as she was, her eyes widened when she read the amount Cruz had paid for his property. It wasn’t a fortune, but for someone in their profession it might as well be. The amount he’d borrowed had been for less than half of this figure. She wondered if he’d had savings to pay for the rest.
She drove to the Southwest District headquarters then to meet Cruz. She noticed detachedly that her hands were trembling on the steering wheel. So she had confirmed that Cruz was living above the means of a detective. She didn’t know why that should affect her so strongly. This was not the first such investigation she’d conducted. None had ever caused her to lose her calm like this.
But this was the first time she’d had to face the man she was investigating day after day, work by his side, get to know him personally. And it was also the first time she’d cared what kind of results the investigation yielded.
And she did care, she admitted to herself. On some level she responded to Cruz, there was no denying it. Especially with the physical reaction she was experiencing right now. She had to get that reaction under control before she saw him again. She was going to need every bit of cool she could muster to face him in a few minutes without the faintest hint of her recently acquired knowledge showing, either in her face or actions.
She strode into the headquarters and walked resolutely to his desk. He looked up at her arrival, his lean, handsome face a mask of impatience.
“About time,” he grunted. “Where have you been, anyway?”
“I had something I had to take care of.”
His eyes narrowed. “You weren’t doing some more research on your own, were you? You promised me, Madeline, and I thought I could trust you.”
I thought I could trust you.
His words slammed into her with the force of a fist. For a moment, just for a split second, all her rehearsed equanimity fled, to be replaced with something that felt uncomfortably like guilt.
His displeasure turned into concern at the expression on her face. She looked for a moment as though he’d slapped her. Then she visibly recovered.
“It was… personal.”
Cruz didn’t cease his perusal of her. Whatever she’d been doing, it had shaken her up, though she was trying to hide that fact. And he felt like a bastard for jumping down her throat. “Anything I can help with?”
“No.” Her response was flat and final. She looked down at his desk and saw a picture marked with Valdez’s name. She picked it up and looked at him
“I’ve been spending the time reading up on our friend there. Thought that picture might come in handy.” He was referring to their plan to try to track Valdez down for questioning today, and she nodded. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure.” She turned and preceded him out of the building, unwilling to engage in any more inquiries about her whereabouts this morning. She hadn’t handled herself well a moment ago, she knew. Although she thought she’d recovered quickly, Cruz was perceptive enough to accurately gauge her reaction to his words. She hoped he’d taken her explanation at face value, but she mentally braced herself for an interrogation once they reached the car.
But Cruz didn’t question her any further. After a few minutes of tense waiting, it occurred to Madeline that he was acting almost solicitous. She could feel herself begin to relax for the first time that morning.
They drove to Valdez’s apartment again, but no one answered the door this time, either. Then they checked out the places where Tommy had claimed Valdez sometimes hung out. They walked into each place and ordered something, looked at the occupants, waited for a time and then left. By silent agreement they didn’t tell anyone why they were there. If Tommy was correct, someone from each place was bound to be able to identify Valdez, but they couldn’t take the chance that he would be tipped off that they were looking for him.
They repeated the pattern a number of times during the day, but by late afternoon they still hadn’t had any luck. Madeline and Cruz had come out of a smoky pool hall after spending a fruitless hour in it.
“We’ll probably have to spend most of the evening in these dives,” Cruz was saying. “These guys only come out at night-” His words broke off as Madeline jabbed him with her elbow.
“That looks like him coming,” she said quietly.
Cruz stared hard in the direction of her gaze. Valdez was sauntering down the sidewalk toward the pool hall they had just vacated. They waited a few seconds until he got closer, then Cruz said, “Jose Valdez?”
The man froze. His eyes darted between Cruz and Madeline. And when they started toward him, he turned and fled.
Cruz and Madeline took off in quick pursuit, but it was apparent that the man was familiar with the neighborhood. He dodged people and obstacles with ease and then darted down an alley.
Cruz reached the alley seconds later, Madeline slightly behind him. The narrow passageway was shadowy, and strewn with litter and boxes. Large Dumpsters hampered their view. Valdez could be hiding anywhere in the area, and Cruz felt a skitter of unease skate down his spine.
Suddenly he heard a loud report, and he reacted without thinking. “Get down!” he shouted to Madeline. Without further thinking, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her to the ground. He dropped down after her, covering her body with his own.
Another report sounded, and then another. But the echoes hadn’t faded before Cruz realized his mistake. Those noises weren’t coming from the alley, and they weren’t gunshots. A nearby car backfired once more before it continued on its way. His instincts had had him reacting to the danger of the situation, without stopping to think. He heard the sounds of footsteps running away and knew they belonged to Valdez. Without another word he picked himself up, hauled Madeline up by one elbow, then drew his gun and sprinted after Valdez.
She couldn’t have followed him if she’d wanted to. When he’d landed on top of her the wind had gone out of her with a suddenness that had left her, quite literally, breathless. She staggered over to the wall of a nearby building and gasped for air. Cruz was back before her lungs had drunk their fill. He reholstered his gun.
“Well, we lost him,” he said disgustedly. “And he knows we’re looking for him. Probably guessed we’re cops. Are you okay?” he asked, seeing Madeline was still having some difficulty breathing. He brushed at her camel-colored slacks, which were marked from her fall.
She pulled away and glared at him. “Would you mind telling me,” she demanded, her words interspersed with pauses to take deep breaths, “just what the hell… you thought you were doing?”