Fractured Read online

  “No.”

  “Did you get a good look at the guys in the alley?”

  “No. I’ve got to go. Cynthia will be worried if I’m gone too long. After you’re sure nobody’s following you, find a safe place to let me out.”

  “But why are they after you?”

  “I’m not sure why they were watching me in the beginning. But now I’m pretty sure they think I saw them murder your father. But I didn’t.” He stopped talking and blew out a breath. “That won’t matter much if they kill me and my family. These people are ruthless.”

  She wanted to respect his wishes, but needed more pieces of the puzzle filled in if she hoped to solve this. “If you wanted to sneak away, why the moving truck? Apparently the only person who didn’t know about it was me. Even the homeless guy told me you moved out.”

  “That was one of my better ideas. I had the moving truck going one way and us going the other. I figured that might throw off whoever was watching us. That fooled them for a while, but now…” He paused. “I’m getting a bad feeling. You’ve got to help me. You’re the only person who can do it.”

  “I’ll do what I can. You be careful.” After making some random turns in a haphazard pattern, she squealed to a stop outside the El station. She touched his hand and shooed him out the door.

  Suddenly, she felt the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders.

  * * *

  By the time she arrived at her home, parking spaces on her street had started to fill up. She finally found a spot at the end of the block. Some days, no matter how hard she tried, nothing came easy. Today seemed to be one of those days. It was like she’d missed something at every turn. First Carmen’s message, the lack of evidence about Schmidt, her father’s lost file, and now Lou’s pleas for help. She didn’t have a clue as to how to accomplish it. Now, she couldn’t even find a parking spot.

  She got out of her car and headed toward the front door. Maybe it was residual paranoia, but on the way up her front steps she noticed the car. While she couldn’t see who was inside, she’d seen the car before, maybe earlier this morning.

  Lou was right. Somebody was watching her.

  As soon as she got inside, she dialed the lieutenant’s home number. “Somebody’s outside my apartment.” She could barely contain her rage, especially every time she thought about Lou and how she might have unknowingly put him and his family in even more danger. Instead, she tried to soothe herself by pacing. Over the last couple of days she’d been physically and emotionally violated, but this felt so much worse.

  “A guy in a dark sedan?”

  “Ah-huh.”

  “Then there’s nothing to worry about. He’s a Fed.” He said the words so nonchalantly it took a second or two to register.

  “What do you mean? Who gave permission for a Fed to sit outside my door and spy on me?”

  “He’s not spying, he’s keeping you safe. You should thank him.”

  “I can keep myself safe, thank you very much. Now call him off.” After the disturbing conversation with Lou, she couldn’t think straight. The last thing she needed was another dumb Fed messing with her.

  “Considering the last couple of days, I’d say you need some help.”

  “I do not need help. Now call him off.” Her voice got louder with each word.

  “No can do. Malone’s calling the shots.”

  “How could you do that?” She felt the betrayal run through her body in a violent wave. Being set up by a stranger was one thing, but her own lieutenant piling on was something else entirely.

  “You’re not listening, Sanchez. If there’s one thing you haven’t learned, it’s how to choose your battles. You can’t fight every enemy single-handedly.”

  “Who says?”

  “Some things are bigger than you think.”

  “I know you’re not one to talk in riddles, so you need to tell me what the hell is going on here.”

  “It goes much higher than me. I’m not privy to the dirt. All I know is I’m supposed to let Malone take the lead and follow where he tells me to go.”

  “That’s not like you, lieutenant.” Betrayal wove through her like a knife piercing vital organs along the way. “You’ve always been straight with me and had my back, when you were my sergeant and now as my lieutenant.”

  “Come on, Sanchez, don’t be mad at me. I’m doing my job.”

  “Bending to the whim of some Fed who might be feeding me to the wolves? They broke my dad out of prison only to get him killed. I’m sure they said they were protecting him, too.” She hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.

  It didn’t matter. She knew whatever he had to say wasn’t going to sit well with her. She picked up the phone and punched in Landry’s number several times before she finally broke down and hit the send button.

  She hated relying on him. Time and time again, she’d said she didn’t need anybody by her side—be it work partner or life partner. Still, something foreign and downright nasty settled inside at the idea that she desperately wanted to talk to him.

  Somehow, over the course of the last several days, Landry had ingratiated himself into her life. Despite her sincere desire for independence, she found herself leaning on him for more things than she’d ever thought possible.

  Which definitely had to stop.

  Right after this call.

  “What’s up?”

  She sucked in a deep breath and tried to make sense of the events before she spoke. The last thing she needed to sound like was a whiny foolish female. That would be the last straw.

  First she started to develop a soft spot for her long-lost father; now she was relying on somebody else to solve her problems. What’s next? Will she start wearing dresses and going to Malone for advice?

  She shuddered at the thought. “There’s a Fed sitting down my block.” And Lou was hiding in my backseat, the new not-so-improved part of her wanted to tell him, but fortunately the old Isabella took over. Being paranoid could be a good thing. It saved her on many occasions. Besides, maybe the Feds had bugged her phone.

  “Does the lieutenant know?”

  “He doesn’t seem to care. He said he’s got no jurisdiction.”

  “The Feds take over if they want to.”

  “But he shouldn’t have rolled over and played dead.” While this whole thing seemed to be a minor issue in the scheme of things, it gave her a good focus for her anger. She didn’t like being coddled, babysat, or treated as an incompetent.

  “Maybe he had no choice.”

  Frustration ebbed and flowed like a tidal wave inside her body. “Don’t make excuses for him.”

  “The lieutenant’s a good guy. You know he wouldn’t do something if he had another option.”

  “Landry, you’re not helping.”

  “I’m trying to keep you from losing it.”

  “I’m not sure you or anybody can do that.” Why was he so frustratingly calm?

  “Why did you call me, then? Did you think I’d slay your dragon for you?”

  “What’s the matter with you?” The idea that he thought she was weak and vulnerable rankled her. She didn’t do weak, and she never did vulnerable. “You’re being an ass.”

  “I got you mad at somebody besides the lieutenant, didn’t I?” He chuckled.

  Instead of responding to his bait, she cursed.

  “I’m only saying that no matter what you do, you’re not going to shake them if they don’t want to get shook. Why frustrate yourself?”

  “Wait a minute. You feel better that somebody’s watching me, don’t you?”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t think you can take care of yourself. If somebody got murdered in my place, I wouldn’t mind the Feds hanging around for a bit.”

  She drew in a long, deep breath to force her nerves to settle. Next she unclenched her hands at her side, which had been clutching the handkerchief. “You knew, didn’t you?”

  He hesitated before answering. “Sort of.”

 
; “Son of a—” With that she hung up and turned off her phone. Next she went outside to give her Fed friend an earful.

  He must have been expecting her because he had his window down and was waiting. She didn’t even have to knock to get his attention.

  “What are you doing here?” She tried to not to scream, but sensed her voice went up a couple of octaves during the process.

  “My job, Detective Sanchez.”

  “I don’t need babysitting. Just because I have a vagina doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself.”

  He stammered. “Yeah…well…I’m sure you’re perfectly capable, but I have my orders, ma’am. I will not leave my post.”

  “You make yourself feel like a big-shot if you’d like. If you don’t mind, I’m going into my house where it’s safe because I’ll shoot anybody who comes near that door. And that includes you.”

  Frustration ebbed and flowed once more and she turned to walk back to her apartment. Her nerves were rattled, anger rolling off her in waves. She handled things all by herself without help from anybody.

  Her first instinct was to call back Landry. But she still was smarting from his earlier remarks. Now that she had time to settle and focus, she had this perverse need to talk to him about the situation with Lou.

  And what did he mean about her mother being killed because her grandfather was a King? Could it possibly be true, or was it a case of folklore? Could her father have spun an elaborate tale to make himself look innocent somehow?

  Instead, she rambled through the apartment, pacing back and forth and thinking about how she was going to ditch her unwanted federal bodyguard in the morning. She had the sense she wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything if she had a babysitter watching her every move.

  It took her a while to settle her nerves. She tried yoga breathing, even though she wasn’t the yoga type. It didn’t work. Next she tried to distract herself with TV. Even though there was nothing on, she suspected even if a blockbuster movie was being broadcast, that wouldn’t have worked, either. Then she put on some music to soothe her nerves. While it was distracting for a while, that respite didn’t last long. She finally went to the fridge, opened a beer and took swig. Not much of a drinker, she had a bit of a buzz before she finished the bottle.

  But it did the trick; she headed into bed with exhaustion competing with anxiety for control. Exhaustion won.

  * * *

  “Look what we’ve got here.” The man pointed to the video surveillance feed.

  “What is that?” The other studied the film as closely as he could, but still had a hard time recognizing much beyond a moving shadow.

  He zoomed in closer. Although the image was still unrecognizable, a man’s shape began to take form. “Unless I miss my guess, somebody surprised Detective Sanchez in her car.” The man emitted a low chuckle. “Since we know the woman is alive and well, I’ve got to figure it’s that cousin of hers.”

  “That kid’s got a lot of nerve.”

  “But he’s just given us the best way to finally find him. Sooner or later he’ll be back. And we’ll be ready.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Unsurprisingly, the next morning she felt like crap. Then her phone rang and things got even more complicated.

  “Detective Sanchez, I need to talk to you.” The man spoke in a whisper. He sounded somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t place the voice.

  “You can meet me at my office this morning.” She gave the pat answer even though she knew that wasn’t what the caller was looking for.

  “It’s too dangerous. I can’t be seen going into a police station.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like showing up there much myself most days, but tough.” At this point, she was sick and tired of being shot at, beat up and stalked. “If you want to meet with me you’re going to have to give me something.”

  “I can’t say anything on the phone.”

  “That’s a line from every cop movie ever written. Once again, I need more. What is this about?”

  “It’s about saving your life and the lives of those you care about.”

  “I don’t take kindly to be threatened.”

  “I didn’t—” The caller sputtered. “This isn’t a threat. You need to know.”

  The caller was silent for several seconds. At first she thought he’d hung up, but she heard breathing sounds. She got the impression he might be waiting for something, but she couldn’t be sure. Instead of hanging up, she waited. She knew sooner or later, he’d continue with his train of thought.

  Finally, he huffed out a breath. “It’s about your father and how he died.”

  Considering the last couple of days, she refused to give an inch. “That’s simple. He died from a gunshot wound to the back of the head.”

  “Do you know how he got out of prison?”

  “Best guess would be the Feds sprung him.”

  “But do you want to know why?”

  Okay, that might very well be the magic button. “All right, you have me intrigued.”

  “I also know who showed up at Stateville posing as you, if you haven’t already figured it out.”

  That was the hook.

  “Let’s meet at the north end of Oz Park at nine,” she said. Most times she preferred to pick the location for these things. A place she was comfortable with and knew like the back of her hand always worked best. Given the last couple of days, she needed that kind of security.

  “Not going to work. You’ve got that Fed watching your house. Chances are he’d follow you to that location.”

  How did this guy know that? Little warning bells were going off inside her head. “Where do you think he wouldn’t follow me?”

  “If you lose him, the ladies’ room by the band shell in Grant Park would be a good spot.”

  “You don’t sound like a lady to me.”

  “I might not be, but I’ll look like one when you see me.”

  Just what she needed—a drag queen informer. “I’ll be there.” With incentive like that, how could she not be?

  First she called the lieutenant and let him know she’d be in around ten. Then she ate breakfast, put on a fresh pair of jeans with her grandfather’s handkerchief tucked into the pocket and her lucky sweater and then strapped on her gun. She opted for leaving the sling at home. Her arm had started to feel better. Besides, she didn’t want to appear vulnerable to whomever she was meeting. She popped some painkillers and stuck her sling inside her bag just in case.

  She walked out the door and knocked on the window of the Fed car sitting in front of the house. Since she’d outted him, he’d parked a little closer.

  “FYI, I’m taking the El into work this morning.” She tried to sound nonchalant.

  “I can drive you, if you’d like.”

  “Nope. I’d much prefer to be at least somewhat of a challenge. I’ll see you at the station.”

  Without another word, she strolled down the block. As she got closer to Wells she looked for Leo, hoping he had returned to his usual spot, but he was nowhere to be found. That kind of bugged her. She couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d be banished before the powers that be gave him a free pass once again. But she needed to move on. She already had more than enough to worry about.

  Chances were the Feds had called in somebody else to tail her, so she had to be more then cautious. The last thing she needed was to be followed and have them scare away whoever wanted to meet with her. Her gut told her it was a solid lead. She didn’t need anybody messing it up.

  The Fed set up at the El platform had on jeans and a baseball hat. If she weren’t a cop, she probably wouldn’t have spotted him so easily. But to her he stuck out like he was bathed in day-glow orange paint.

  With the rush hour crowd, it didn’t take much maneuvering to get lost in the shuffle. That and a couple of train line switches and she was good to go. She did have the satisfaction of waving to her Fed friend as the train pulled away from the Rogers Park station.

  She got off a
t the next stop and took the El headed back to the Loop. Thanks to her Fed friend, it was already eight-thirty. If there were some kind of delay, she might be late to meet her mystery caller. This time she didn’t want any interference to prevent her from finding out what was going on.

  The El stopped at Wabash and Lake and she got off and walked down the steps. People hurried down the sidewalks, heading off to jobs or school. As much as she could, she kept an eye on those around her to check for more Feds, just in case.

  Traffic cops were directing the cars that lined Michigan and the cross streets. Amidst the honking cars and whistling of the policemen, she followed the swell of the crowd, crossing Michigan by the Art Institute. Ninety percent of the people around her were either heading toward jobs or school at this early hour.

  The band shell stood on the grounds of Grant Park. While the park wasn’t nearly as large as Central Park in New York City, it was still a big expanse of land considering it was plunked down in the middle of a thriving city. It contained the famous sculpture depicting the Chicago skyline, the water spouts which people used to cool off during the humid summer months and Buckingham Fountain, a favorite tourist spot.

  The band shell was on the north end. The small structure held concerts during the summer, but now it was deserted, with only a sprinkling of people using it as a pass-through on their way to someplace else. Certainly her preference would be much more foot traffic to avoid the potential for trouble.

  For a few moments she actually contemplated calling Landry and asking him for back-up. But that was crazy. Maybe she was getting soft.

  It was quiet in the short hallway leading to the bathrooms. She could hear the echo of her own footsteps, which was a bit creepy. She eased open the door and slipped inside. Her hands twitched nervously by her gun as she checked the stalls.

  Nobody.

  Letting out a sigh of relief, she glanced at her watch. 8:55. A tingle started at the base of her spine and spread outward. What was she doing here?

  She rolled her shoulders to relieve some of the tension and contemplated the best place to wait. Stalls lined the perimeter. In the center, there were mirrors and sinks.