Fractured Page 12

  That didn’t mean she couldn’t be reassigned to a desk job for a couple of weeks. She could field phone calls and stuff like that. Working mostly inside, it would be much easier for her to gain the information she needed. She’d also have more access to Malone the moron. In fact, she should put that on the top of her To-Do list: Go to the federal building on Dearborn and see if she could rattle his cage.

  Although, in her experience, most Feds didn’t rattle very easily. She would bet Malone would be a tough one to crack.

  She popped a frozen pizza into the oven. It was going to be a very long night.

  * * *

  By three in the morning, she’d finally fallen asleep in the spare room. She couldn’t bring herself to sleep in her own bed.

  Uncertain if it was her nap this afternoon, or the pain that seemed to radiate up and down her arm, or the fact she was still creeped out by being in her apartment, or the even more disturbing idea that she’d grown used to having Landry beside her when she slept, she tossed and turned until she’d nearly resigned herself to not sleeping at all.

  Finally, blessedly, she fell asleep. Luckily the dreams from yesterday didn’t reappear. Her respite was short-lived as she awoke again at six-thirty.

  Instinct had her wondering why the caller told her to take the Orange line to Midway Airport. Driving would be much easier and faster, especially on a Saturday.

  Except he, more than likely, didn’t want her to go inside the airport. Then again, he could easily be lost in the hustle and bustle of a busy airport. But somehow she didn’t think that was his agenda.

  He wanted to meet with her in person, which meant she had to be prepared for every eventuality. The guy could be blowing smoke or looking for money. He could be playing the odds and hoping she’d be dumb enough to follow his lead. Or he could really know where Lou and Cynthia were hiding.

  Her ruminations along with preparations took her until eight. She stuffed the handkerchief inside her pocket and walked out the door. By the time she got to the bottom step, she spotted Leo curled up on her front porch.

  “Leo, are you okay?” She bent down to nudge him with her hand.

  He woke slowly and smiled. “Detective. Sorry about the other night. I got arrested.”

  “I heard.” He looked more worn and tired than usual. “Are you okay?”

  “Been better.” He shrugged and sat up. “I have to talk to you.” He coughed.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Annie’s gone.” He motioned with his hands. “Poof. Like magic.”

  She got a nauseous feeling inside. “Maybe she’s laying low. I tried to find her the other night but things got a little crazy.” She pointed to her arm.

  “That’s why I came by. I guess some guys came down to Wacker. They encouraged the group to refuse to talk to you and handed out wads of cash.”

  Only the feds and drug dealers could throw around that kind of money. “Did anybody say what they looked like?”

  “Gangbangers. Scared the guys pretty bad, and with the money incentive they weren’t going to give up anything.”

  “Do you know who attacked me?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t know for sure, but I heard it might have been the same guys that handed out the money.”

  He coughed several more times. “They said they’d made Annie disappear. They could do the same to them.” He pulled at the sleeve of her good arm. “I came to warn you off. Whoever is involved isn’t playing around.”

  “But that’s got to mean Annie knew something.” She hated to consider the idea the homeless woman might have been killed because of her.

  He nodded. “I got a bad feeling about this whole thing. You need to take care.”

  “Thanks, Leo. That’s sweet of you. But I can take care of myself.”

  “That’s what Annie always said, too.” He turned to walk away.

  She grabbed his arm. “Can I do anything for you?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m fine.”

  “Then let me give you some money and rent you a room for a couple of nights. It’s the least I can do.”

  “I couldn’t do that.” He started to shuffle away but she stopped him once again.

  “I’ve got a vacant apartment right here. Please. You look sick. You need to be inside where it’s warm.”

  “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” Without another word he shuffled down the street.

  Leo’s visit had left her shaken. Why would somebody eliminate a poor homeless woman? And why would they threaten and pay people not to cooperate with her?

  Guilt spread a path through her body zeroing in on her chest. She could take care of herself but getting innocent people mixed up in this was another matter altogether.

  Despite dire warnings from Leo, among others, she had to go through with this. She walked the couple of blocks to the Brown line and boarded the train. It was only then she made the call to Landry.

  * * *

  “You’re doing what?” Landry couldn’t get out of bed fast enough. “Do not do anything until I get there.” He slipped into jeans and shirt while he had Isabella on speaker phone.

  “I’m already on the train headed for Midway.”

  “Let me get this straight. You’re going alone into a situation you don’t know anything about, following the directive of some guy you don’t know because…”

  “He knows about Lou. Don’t you see? That’s where it all began.” He heard the doors whoosh close in the background. “And that’s why I called you.”

  “Why? To make me go crazy?” He put on his tennis shoes and grabbed his coat. “I’ll call in a unit.”

  “That will scare him off. Besides, Midway’s a big place, with lots of people, and tons of uniformed cops. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  * * *

  Isabella shook off any misgivings about the phone call and focused on her surroundings. The sparse population on the train seemed normal given the early hour and the fact it was a Saturday. She examined the inhabitants of the train car, taking note of proximity and perceived threat.

  A woman sat alone in a seat, her head leaning against the window. Isabella could tell the woman had had a rough night of drinking based on her body language and the lingering smell of alcohol wafting around her. If she had to guess, the woman was doing the ‘walk of shame’ back to her own place after a one-nighter with a guy on the north side. Although her story might be interesting, she was definitely not a threat.

  A young man sat a couple of rows to the left wearing jeans and a button-down shirt. Based on his demeanor, she would bet he was accustomed to wearing a suit and tie every day. She would guess he was a new lawyer paying his dues at the law firm working on a Saturday.

  A student wearing a backpack sat a couple of seats in front of her. A mother with two young children sat down directly across from her. The mother looked barely out of her teens, but her children were about pre-school age. The youngest one was sitting on the mother’s lap with her nose pressed against the window. The older girl, who couldn’t have been more than four or five, sat closest to the aisle and concentrated on coloring a picture she had on her lap. She looked at Isabella and smiled in that innocent way children did.

  Isabella couldn’t help but remember back when she was that same age. Frequently, she’d go on El trips with her mother and grandfather. To her it was sort of like going to an amusement park. She loved watching the scenery go by in fast motion. She even loved the rock and sway of the El as it made its way on its bumpy track to its destination.

  “Chicago Loop,” the conductor announced prior to the stop. Most of the people got off there. The mother gathered up her children to leave. The little girl with the picture stopped and handed it to Isabella. “This is for you.” She said the words in Spanish.

  Isabella smiled and muttered “Gracias.” It wasn’t until after they left that she turned the paper over and spotted the note.

  Chapter Twelve

  Isabella’s hands shook as she read
the note. “Detective Sanchez, there’s been a change of plans. Take the red line to 87th Street. I’ll get in contact with you there.”

  The woman and her children were long gone and the train had started moving once again. Frustrated, she opened her phone and dialed Landry. “Where are you?”

  “I was on my way to Midway, but traffic on 94 South is a nightmare. Why? What’s going on?”

  “While I was on the train I got passed a note that said to take the train south to 87th instead.”

  He bit off a stream of curses before he re-focused. “Who passed you the note?”

  “A kid coloring a picture. The note was on the other side.” She drew in a breath. “It doesn’t matter. At the next stop I’m going to transfer and take the red line. I should have figured he was going to jerk me around for a while.”

  “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  Adrenaline together with anticipation combined to make her a little shaky as she boarded the train south. Crowded cars brimming with people made it impossible for her to do much besides hang onto the pole and hope for the best.

  In the past, like in most big cities, segregation caused definite boundary lines in Chicago. Nobody took this southbound train at night, unless they were headed to a White Sox baseball game. Nobody crossed the Dan Ryan Expressway either east or west if you were from the opposite side, as bad things would happen. In the past, the inhabitants in that area were working class people with very strict beliefs about racial lines. Her grandfather had warned her to be careful. Even as a teenager she never ventured this far south. Through the years things had changed, old houses were torn down, new ones shot up, and the racial lines got blurrier and blurrier. But still fear gnawed at her back as the train shuttled through.

  As a cop she’d probably been to every part of the city from the north end to the south without thinking twice about it. But on a day fraught with memories, it was hard to shake old baggage. Now, after twenty-five years, she felt compelled to find out more about her father and what happened to him. Locating Lou might be the first step.

  Even though the train ride jostled along the uneven tracks through all the stops, it didn’t take long to get to 87th Street. Somebody accidentally bumped into her arm on the way out and the pain shot clear through to her eyeballs. She held back the scream, lumbered onto the El platform and glanced around. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her.

  She pulled the note from her jacket pocket and re-read it to verify she had come to the right place. After confirming what she already knew, she looked around. The crowd had dispersed except for a few stragglers, a guy sitting on the platform playing a guitar hoping for change and some people waiting for the next train.

  Pushing through the doors, she exited onto the noisy street. She scanned the cars, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Cab drivers lounged outside their cars waiting for riders. Others were going about their typical Saturday morning routine.

  After walking the length of the block, she crossed over to the other side hoping for some kind of sign to let her know this hadn’t been a wasted effort. She scrutinized every person driving or walking by but no one seemed to be paying any attention to her.

  Just as she was about to turn around and head back on the next train north, a car careened up on the sidewalk and blocked her path. Adrenaline pumped as she yanked out her gun. To her shock, no one on the sidewalk or in cars seemed to notice except for the inconvenience of having to walk around the vehicle.

  “Put the gun away, Detective Sanchez, and get in.” He spoke the words in Spanish.

  She didn’t have to look inside to know it was Sergio behind the wheel. Did she trust him? Hell, no. She glanced around hoping to spot Landry’s SUV. No such luck. There was no other option but to take the risk.

  “We’ve got to get out of here.” If the shakiness of his tone was any indication, he seemed much more scared than nervous.

  “Why? Are you taking me to Lou?” She checked around for anything suspicious, but nothing stood out.

  He shook his head. “Not yet. These people want to mess me up.” He had a facial tick. It could be due to the circumstances and nerves. She hoped it wasn’t due to drugs.

  “What people? You’re going to have to narrow it down for me.”

  “The Feds.” He gave a furtive look behind and stepped on the gas before squealing onto the expressway doing seventy.

  Holy crap. She buckled in and held onto the edge of the door for leverage. Cops were known for their driving skills, but this guy was switching lanes like he was driving the Indy 500.

  “Why are they after you?”

  “I know what’s going on.” While he hunched over the wheel, every few seconds he’d spare a look in the rearview mirror; it might have made him feel better, but it made her nervous as hell. Going this fast and not keeping a vigilant eye on the road bordered on suicidal.

  “Why don’t you enlighten me? Maybe I can straighten it all out.” She hoped if she kept her voice calm and even, he’d settle down.

  Instead, he made the turn from the Ryan to the Stevenson Expressway going at least eighty. The tires bounced along the shoulder spewing up loose gravel.

  “I need money.”

  Good thing she came prepared. “Information first.”

  “This is big.” He stared into the rearview mirror and pressed down the accelerator. “Don’t you get it? They’re going to kill me.” Between his lack of driving skills and the rate of speed, he was bound to run smack-dab into something.

  She figured the sooner this thing finished, the less likely she was to end up spread out on the pavement. Curious, she turned to see what might be scaring him. A few cars straggled behind, but most were giving them a wide berth. Frankly she didn’t blame them. She would have, too.

  “There’s nobody back there.” She tried to be the voice of reason hoping he’d settle down and not kill them both.

  “They’re around here somewhere. They always are.”

  She was beginning to believe Sergio was a paranoid schizophrenic, imagining things that weren’t there. That would be her luck—killed following a lead that went nowhere.

  Suddenly, he took the exit for Chinatown but didn’t stop at the light, instead screeching around the corner on two wheels. Now she knew how people felt when they said there was never a cop around. She hadn’t seen a cop car since she’d been on this joy ride.

  She drew in a breath and tried to calm herself despite the circumstances. Outside the erratic driving, she wasn’t concerned for her safety. And he might eventually settle down enough to tell her about Lou. On a scale from one to ten, she figured she was only at a five or so. Not bad.

  Just when she started to relax and contemplated how to get him to slow down, she heard the squealing tires and glanced to her left. A car going way too fast to stop bore down on them. Seconds ticked by. All she could do was brace herself.

  She emitted some kind of girlish scream and closed her eyes as the car T-boned them. Her seatbelt held tight while they spun around two or three times, finally landing half on, half off the sidewalk. Sergio hadn’t been so lucky; his head ricocheted off the driver’s side window. Not wearing his seatbelt, he’d been tousled about, hitting the steering wheel a couple of times before the air bag went off. As far as she could tell, he was out cold.

  Isabella threw open the door and ran. She skirted under the beams of the El and up Archer Avenue, then turned onto Cermak. While she felt shaky and disoriented, she couldn’t wait around to find out if Sergio’s paranoia had been real or not. Instead she hoped all those miles she’d put in jogging along Lake Shore Drive had paid off and her bum arm didn’t interfere with her being able to keep her distance.

  The merchants along the street had started to open their doors, and aromas from the nearby restaurants filtered through the air. The distinctive smells of Chinese cuisine commingled with the quick crisp chatter of people on the street. She ran along the sidewalk, finally feeling brave enough to manage a glance behind
.

  The two men had gotten out of their car and began to look around. One went to Sergio’s car, and dialed on his cell phone. The other seemed to be looking for somebody—more than likely her. He raised at set of binoculars to his eyes, and then pointed right at her.

  She didn’t have to think twice; she ran. Unwilling to sneak another look and waste valuable time, she wove her way along the sidewalks and hoped for a good spot to hide. In the windows she spotted everything from trinkets to fish for sale, but nothing that resembled a good place to hunker down until they gave up and went away.

  In the background a siren whirled, probably responding to the accident scene. She trudged on, turning the corner onto Wentworth. At this time on a Saturday, only a sparse number of locals were around.

  Up ahead two large crowds of students and a couple of families flanked the sidewalk. As she maneuvered around them, she used the diversion to sneak inside one of the shop doors. The smell of fish assaulted her nostrils as soon as she charged inside. She ducked beneath the counter in back, where an old Chinese man was cutting the heads off fish.

  He barely glanced at her as she ducked beneath the counter. When the front door opened a few moments later, she put her index finger to her lips, showed him her badge and tried to convey a sense of urgency with her eyes.

  “Have you seen a young woman? Dark hair, bi-racial?” She didn’t recognize the voice, but that didn’t mean anything.

  The man responded with a string of Chinese and went about beheading his fish with a cleaver the size of her head. The men must have left, as the doorbell chimed when it closed. She held her breath and peered around the corner. She didn’t see them, but she was pretty sure they wouldn’t have given up that easily.

  She mouthed ‘thank you’ to the fish man and pulled out her phone, dialing Landry’s number. He picked up after a few rings.

  “Landry, I need you to send a black and white to the twenty-three hundred block of Wentworth. Have them lay on the siren and not let up no matter what.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m hiding under a counter of a fish shop on Wentworth. Somebody’s looking for me and I want to scare them off.” Her heart beat like a drum in her chest. “Take care of it for me.”