fire, kid. My first idea, of getting out of town, is sounding much better.”
“You can stay here. Mi casa and all that.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Jake said. “We might take you up on that—
“No!” Angel shouted. “I mean, thanks, Lucky, but we can’t just sit around here and do nothing. If I wait until the morning, go to her office, and she’s one of them, I’m never going to leave that courthouse. Not even you could break me out of juvie.”
He had to admire his kid. She was no saint, but she wanted desperately to do the right thing, and that wasn’t something she’d learned from her mother—or from him, because he hadn’t been around to teach her.
Jake handed her the bag that Lucky had bought. “While I make some calls, let’s at least disguise you.”
She looked inside and stared blankly at the hair dye and clothes. “That’s a dress.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I’m not wearing that.”
“There’s blood on your jeans, that shirt is stained, and your hair stands out.”
“I’ll dye my hair, but I’m not wearing a dress.”
“You’re wearing a dress because no one will expect it.”
She groaned, grabbed the bag and stomped down the hall to the bathroom. She slammed the door.
Jake said to Lucky, “I’m worried.”
“You’re going to keep her, aren’t you?”
“What the hell does that mean? She’s not a stray dog.”
“Her mom’s a drunk, she’s on the edge, she has a record—she needs you.”
Jake had been thinking the same thing, though he felt wholly unsuited for fatherhood. “First things first.” He paused. “Besides, I don’t know if she wants me in her life.”
“Open your eyes. She wants someone to care if she lives or dies.” Lucky tossed him the burner phone. “Call your cop friend. Find out what’s what.”
Lucky was right. Tommy Lind would give him the scoop, and even if he couldn’t help, Jake would at least have an idea of what to do. He didn’t like the idea of Angel talking to Kristina Larson. Far too risky. He really needed to talk to Maddie. As much as Jake has issues with the defense attorney—most of them personal--she was as straight and honorable as they came.
He dialed Tommy’s number. “Tommy, it’s Jake Morrison.”
“Jake? What the fuck is going on?”
“You tell me.”
“Everyone knows your apartment was shot up last night. Your boss said you’re on a job.”
“I am.”
“You okay?”
“For now. I have a situation. LAPD is looking for a teenager named Iliana Saldana, goes by Angel.”
“Don’t I know it. It’s my day off, but we’re all working because we have a dead cop. You have a lead on her?”
Jake didn’t like the direction of this conversation. He’d planned to tell Tommy everything, but he pulled back. “I might.”
“Give it to me.”
“I don’t know where she is,” Jake lied, “but I have it on good authority that she was the gang’s target.”
“What authority?”
“She’s testifying against Raul Garcia of the G-5 gang tomorrow morning. Possibly a grand jury or to a judge to get a subpoena. I’m not sure on the details.”
“This girl has a rap sheet, been in and out of juvie, and the word on the street is she lied about the murders because she’s starting a war between the G-5 and Cedros Street gangs to benefit the Ranchitos.”
“Why would she do that?”
“The Mexican gangs have grown since you left the force, buddy. It can be a war zone in the wrong area, and she’s in the middle of it.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“What’s your connection? Where are you getting this intel? Because what we’re hearing is far different.”
Scenarios ran through Jake’s head. “It doesn’t make sense that she’d lie about seeing Raul Garcia shoot two working girls—it puts a big fat target on her back.”
“What better way to start a war? Those prostitutes the G-5 gang supposedly killed were Cedros girls. G-5 and Cedros take each other out, Ranchitos move right
“You can stay here. Mi casa and all that.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Jake said. “We might take you up on that—
“No!” Angel shouted. “I mean, thanks, Lucky, but we can’t just sit around here and do nothing. If I wait until the morning, go to her office, and she’s one of them, I’m never going to leave that courthouse. Not even you could break me out of juvie.”
He had to admire his kid. She was no saint, but she wanted desperately to do the right thing, and that wasn’t something she’d learned from her mother—or from him, because he hadn’t been around to teach her.
Jake handed her the bag that Lucky had bought. “While I make some calls, let’s at least disguise you.”
She looked inside and stared blankly at the hair dye and clothes. “That’s a dress.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I’m not wearing that.”
“There’s blood on your jeans, that shirt is stained, and your hair stands out.”
“I’ll dye my hair, but I’m not wearing a dress.”
“You’re wearing a dress because no one will expect it.”
She groaned, grabbed the bag and stomped down the hall to the bathroom. She slammed the door.
Jake said to Lucky, “I’m worried.”
“You’re going to keep her, aren’t you?”
“What the hell does that mean? She’s not a stray dog.”
“Her mom’s a drunk, she’s on the edge, she has a record—she needs you.”
Jake had been thinking the same thing, though he felt wholly unsuited for fatherhood. “First things first.” He paused. “Besides, I don’t know if she wants me in her life.”
“Open your eyes. She wants someone to care if she lives or dies.” Lucky tossed him the burner phone. “Call your cop friend. Find out what’s what.”
Lucky was right. Tommy Lind would give him the scoop, and even if he couldn’t help, Jake would at least have an idea of what to do. He didn’t like the idea of Angel talking to Kristina Larson. Far too risky. He really needed to talk to Maddie. As much as Jake has issues with the defense attorney—most of them personal--she was as straight and honorable as they came.
He dialed Tommy’s number. “Tommy, it’s Jake Morrison.”
“Jake? What the fuck is going on?”
“You tell me.”
“Everyone knows your apartment was shot up last night. Your boss said you’re on a job.”
“I am.”
“You okay?”
“For now. I have a situation. LAPD is looking for a teenager named Iliana Saldana, goes by Angel.”
“Don’t I know it. It’s my day off, but we’re all working because we have a dead cop. You have a lead on her?”
Jake didn’t like the direction of this conversation. He’d planned to tell Tommy everything, but he pulled back. “I might.”
“Give it to me.”
“I don’t know where she is,” Jake lied, “but I have it on good authority that she was the gang’s target.”
“What authority?”
“She’s testifying against Raul Garcia of the G-5 gang tomorrow morning. Possibly a grand jury or to a judge to get a subpoena. I’m not sure on the details.”
“This girl has a rap sheet, been in and out of juvie, and the word on the street is she lied about the murders because she’s starting a war between the G-5 and Cedros Street gangs to benefit the Ranchitos.”
“Why would she do that?”
“The Mexican gangs have grown since you left the force, buddy. It can be a war zone in the wrong area, and she’s in the middle of it.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“What’s your connection? Where are you getting this intel? Because what we’re hearing is far different.”
Scenarios ran through Jake’s head. “It doesn’t make sense that she’d lie about seeing Raul Garcia shoot two working girls—it puts a big fat target on her back.”
“What better way to start a war? Those prostitutes the G-5 gang supposedly killed were Cedros girls. G-5 and Cedros take each other out, Ranchitos move right
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