Stoval knew of Rayman. He knew what Raymond Mendoza looked like and could name nearly everyone he had ever met. He’d never met this man, Rayman, who worked clubs in LA for the Salazar brothers and was now part of the reorg and new network. Mendoza was responsible for overseeing the management and harvest of a handful of grow fields in California. He was in charge of the field where the game warden was shot. He was smart, but not bright, and had it been his decision, after the game warden Stoval would have made Mendoza disappear. But though he was heavily invested the low level management decisions were not his call. Mendoza wasn’t his to worry about, at least not until now.
Raymond Mendoza was the man John Marquez chose to deliver a message and for that reason Stoval chose to meet with him. He needed to know why Marquez chose him, but now having sat with Mendoza for twenty minutes he was convinced there was nothing special about this man. They were along the coast highway coming through Malibu in Rayman’s black Hummer, a vehicle that was large for the road and drew unnecessary attention. He listened to Mendoza’s patter, the false earnestness about wanting to do more and move up in the organization, and then cut him off.
‘I don’t make those decisions and want you to stop talking about yourself. Tell me where you first met John Marquez.’
‘In Baja.’
‘Where and when in Baja?’
The man shouldn’t be running anything, Stoval thought. He was a self-absorbed idiot.
‘I met him in Loreto. I was the contact with the DEA for the Salazars. He was the one in charge when Miguel killed the DEA agent.’
‘Marquez trusts you.’
‘No, man, no, he is afraid of me. He hates me, but he thought I would be able to know how to reach you. He thought I could get the message to you.’
‘But you hadn’t ever met me.’
‘No, I know, I told him.’
‘Listen to me and then repeat back what I say to you.’
‘OK.’
‘You passed the message on to the people you work for and that’s all you know. You didn’t meet with me today.’
‘Oh, OK, that’s what I tell Marquez?’
‘You’ve never seen me.’
‘Right.’
‘Repeat what I just said.’ Stoval listened and then said, ‘Pull over, here. I’m going to borrow your vehicle.’
‘What do you mean, man?’
‘I’m borrowing your vehicle.’
Mendoza was slow. It took him another several seconds to pull over. Then he stalled leaving.
‘When will I get my Hummer back?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
Stoval smiled at him and adjusted the seat as Mendoza blinked in the sunlight on the road shoulder. Like a stray dog he’d have to be careful crossing the highway. Stoval pulled back on to the highway. In his rear view mirror he saw Mendoza run across the road and smiled as a pickup nearly hit him. Mendoza was worried about losing his Hummer, but soon enough he’d wish he’d never owned it.