“Do I have to say?” He asked.
“No, but it would help the investigation to have a point of contact.”
“Name's Jonathan Tibbs Brooks. Momma had a thing for that colored fellow on that cops show, so I got his name. You know the show I'm talkin bout? I think it had that Sydney feller playing the colored fellow. No?”
“Sorry, sir, I don't watch much television. But please, continue your story, Mr. Brooks,” Izzy said.
“Call me Jon, please. Anyhow, we were driving home like I said. I spotted a van selling those fancy foods that people go all goo goo for cause they come from a truck. I thought it unusual seein how we never get those types here. As we went by I caught a glimpse of a feller in black tactical gear. Weird right?” Well, a few minutes later we're down the block from our home and boom. The empty house next door done blowed up.”
“I see,” Izzy said. As she responded I glanced behind thinking I would see the food truck with armed thugs sighting in to shoot us. It wasn't there.
“Back to the food truck, do you remember the name of it? Or any writing it had?” Izzy asked.
“Nope, I think it said sumthin bout mexican and Japanese fusion. I think.” Jon scratched at his head while he tried to remember.
“It said Ito's Mexi-Jap Fusion. A blend of the best Mexico has to 9ffer with the delightful tastes of Japan,” Jon's son said as he walked out of the livingroom where there should have been a wall.
“Don't you go gettin in the habbit a walkin through the damn wall, boy,” Jon said.
“I won't, Pa. I'm just havin some fun is all.”
“Do you remember the color of the truck?” Izzy asked. I marveled at her ability to ignore everything that wasn't relevant to the case.
“If memory serves, it was red and green kinda like the Mexican flag with a big red dot in the center,” Jon said.
“Yeah, a mexican flag with the Japanese circle from their flag,” the boy said.
“I think that is all I need for now,” Izzy said. “Thank you both for your cooperation.”
“You're welcome, ma'am. Just don't go forgetting about letting my boy piss on him when you find him.”
“As soon as he's in custody, I'll be here to escort you to the county lockup,” Izzy replied.
None of the other neighbors had any useful information. We managed to talk to three other people willing to tell their tales but they only saw the explosions or the troopers in black. Six people told us to get bent with a lot harsher words.
“Where to now?” I asked while fastening my seatbelt.
“The station. We need more information on that food truck. If the owners were involved they would need a legit license to complete their disguise. We should be able to look it up.”
“Two things,” I said. “First, are you sure they would register the truck as a business? And second, are you going to be able to get info considering you are no longer a police officer?” I asked.
“I left on good terms and there are plenty of cops that owe me favors. We will get the info we need. As far as the food truck goes, posing as a business with no license is a good way to get the attention of law enforcement. Not an ideal scenario. I bet my left tit the truck is set up as a legit business.”
“Then let's go find out.”
I followed Izzy throught the police station. When we first arrived I thought we were finished before we started when we came to a door requiring a keycard to enter. There was an officer in uniform by the door and Izzy nodded to him. He returned her nod and pressed a button. The door buzzed and we were in.
Izzy led me to an office with four desks, a round table with four chairs, and a couple large white boards with pictures taped to them and various writings. One of the desks was occupied by a man that stood and smiled when we walked in.
“Rodriguez,” the average sized guy with a tan and brown hair said as he extended his hand. “It's good to see you again. How is life as a civvie?”
Izzy met his hand with her's. “Hey Jacobs, I wish I could say things are good. How is the squad doing?”
They released their grip and he waved us over to the table. “Come on and have a seat. Tell me what I can do ya for.”
“I'm sure you heard about the explosion that took down the cemetery and a couple houses?” Izzy asked.
“That's the reason I'm alone right now. Detectives from every department are helping Homeland investigate. No one is sure of this is a terrorist attack or not.”
Izzy and I shared a look and I could tell she was wondering if we could us that to our advantage. “Well, I'm looking into the explosion myself. I'm following up a lead and need some info. Can you help me?”
The man she called Jacobs stared at my turtle through slitted eyes. “I'll help, but under two conditions. First, why are you looking into this? The second thing, is that you have to agree to share your information. I know enough about you to know that if you are chewing on a bone, it's probably going to lead you to the cadaver.”
“I don't know what I can share,” Izzy replied.
“My conditions are non negotiable. No one else is available to help you right now. If you want the info, you need to agree to terms. Your call.”
“I saw you go for it,” I sent to Izzy through our mental link. I trusted her enough to divulge only what was needed to satisfy his needs.
“I'm working for a private party that may have been the target. I can't go any more into that. I'll agree to share my info as long as you give me an eight hour lead to do what I have to do.”
“Are we talking body counts?” Jacobs asked and I was amazed at the casual attitude ye had while asking.
“Possibly,” Izzy replied.
“Okay,” Jacobs said.
Bale appeared next to Jacobs and I heard his voice in my mind. “It took you long enough to get here. Find the artifact in their storage and take me away from here.”
Chapter 8
I jumped to my feet startling Izzy and Jacobs. Bale blinked out of existence as Jacobs looked over his shoulder where the apparition had been.
“What the shit is wrong with you, man?” Jacobs asked.
“Sorry, I thought I saw a spider. I have a phobia,” I said. It was all I could think of on short notice.
“Whatever. We have a deal, Rodriguez?”
“We do.”
“Alright. Let's start with what you need?”
“I need information on a food truck,” Izzy said. In the spirit of cooperation, she told him what the man at the house had. The pair shared an easy banter that had me feeling a little jealous. Izzy barely gave me the time of day and probably wouldn't speak to me if we weren't bonded.
More than once I caught her glancing at me from the corner of her eye. She knew what I was thinking as well as feeling due to our link. For the first time since Miranda helped me see who I really am, I hated that aspect of the connection. No doubt Izzy would get pissed at me feeling jealous since I didn't own her or was her man.
“I look forward to your call, Jacobs,” Izzy said. She turned her head to me addressing me for the first time since sitting down. “You ready to go?”
“I am,” I said.
“Okay then. See ya later,” Jacobs said to Izzy. He didn't even glance my way.
Izzy was the first to rise and led the way to the door. She opened it then continued into the hallway. Once the door was closed she spun facing me. “What the hell was that?”
“What?” I asked.
“Well, aside from the feeling of jealousy you radiated, there was a moment when you were surprised and jumped up. Remember?”
“I remember.”
Care to elaborate?” She crossed her arms and stared at me like she wished lasers would shoot our of her eyes to burn holes through me.
“Bale appeared. He said we had to get the artifact from the room where stuff was locked up. I assume he meant the evidence room, or locker, or whatever you guys call it.”
“No shit? Well let’s go get him than,” Izzy said.
>
“You know where he is?”
“There’s only one place he could be. I’m assuming the artifact was recovered from the base. It should be in evidence. The real question is what is the artifact? how do we know what to look for?”
“That’s a great question.”
Izzy navigate through the building she used to work in. I felt bad about her having to leave. If I hadn’t come into her life she would still be a cop. She loved being a cop and regretted having to quit. Once our lives were settled and all the crazy was taken care of I would push her to rejoin so she would be doing the job she loved. It was possible that part of the reason she was hostile towards me was having to leave her job.
My Turtle felt and knew what I was thinking and feeling. Yet she didn’t comment on it. Any of my other Tua would have said something. I had to wonder if there was a way to block them and keep my thoughts to myself.
My inner lamentations were cut short when we stopped at a metal door with a thick glass window. Evidence, was stenciled on the door in large white letters. In the window a man could be seen sitting at a desk with his head down. He typed at a keyboard using his idex fingers. It was painful watching him slowly peck away at the keyboard. When Izzy knocked on the metal door he looked up.
The man came to the door with a sile on his face. He pressed a button and spoke. “Hi Rodriguez, good to see you. Hi Santiago, how’s it hanging?”
The man chuckled at her response. “You know it only hangs when my wife has her purse hanging from something. Most of time her purse is sitting on a table and not hanging.”
“Ha, still playing that card huh? How is Elizabeth doing?”
“She’s doing great. What can I do for you?”
“I need a huge favor. Before I ask, know that this is going to break a few rules.”
“You want something from here? If it’s a weapon, drugs, or cash the answer is no.” His smile fadded to a look of annoyance. I got the impression that one or all of those things were asked for often enough he had to give that little speech.
“Nothing like that, Santiago. I wouldn’t dream of putting you in a position like that. To be honest, I’m not sure what the object I need looks like, but it’s not guns, drugs, or cash.”
“How am I supposed to get you something if I don’t know what to look for?”
“It’s part of the investigation into the big explosion that took down the cemetery,” Izzy said.
Santiago’s face went pale and he swallowed a lump in his throat. “It can’t be. Wait here.”
The man turned his back on us and walked behind a set of shelves. Izzy turned and faced me. She looked pissed. For an uncomfortable minutes I was the subject of her scrutinizing gaze.
“You need to stop with the self pity emo shit right now. It’s bad enough I can hear what your thinking. The last thing I want os to hear and feel your little pity party. Keep your head in the game and don’t worry about what I’m feeling or thinking. We have a job to do. Let’s focus on getting it done.”
I looked away. Heat burned in my face as I blushed from embarrassment. I wanted to hear from her regarding my feelings, but not like this. Instead of giving me insight I craved I was chastised and damn near sent to sit in the corner.
Santiago return and pressed the button once more. He cleared his throat to get Izzy’s attention. My Turtle narrowed her eyes at me briefly before turning around.
“We have a few things that are not weapons. A surprising amount of auto and semi auto rifles were found in the tunnels under the cemetery. There was also this stuff.” He lifted the box so we could see inside.
Bale appeared next to the man and nodded at me. As he did so, a disc that looked to be made of stone shined. From Izzy and Santiago’s lack of a reaction I thought I might have been the only one to notice.
“The stone disc,” I said.
“This?” Santiago reached in and pulled the object from the box turning it so we could see both sides. The side that sat up while it was in the box was flat and smooth. The other side of the six in wide disc had engravings in a language I couldn’t even begin to guess it’s origin. Bale still stood next to the man and he nodded at me once before vanishing. This time, he seemed to turn into a small ball of mist that was sucked into the object.
“That’s the one,” Izzy said. Since I knew it was the object we sought, Izzy knew.
“Can I ask why you need this?” Santiago asked.
“Sure,”Izzy said. “I’m working for an independent party and running my own investigation of the bombing. My source tells me that piece is an important part of the investigation. I’ve agreed to share everything I learn with Jacobs, so he will hear about this soon enough.”
“Alright. If Jacobs is okay with you doing this, then so am I.”
The man dropped the disc into a metal drawer the kifted the lever attached to it. A metal plate on our side of the door flipped down and the drawer slid out. Izzy took the disc and passed it to me without turning around.
“Thank you, Santiago. Have a good one, and don't work too hard,” Izzy said.
“You too, Chica. Oh, what am I saying. Working too hard is your thing.” He laughed while Izzy spun around. Her face was red and she looked mad enough to chew nails into paper clips.
My turtle led the way once more. We exited the station and climbed into the car. Izzy didn't say a word as she drove. I had no idea where we were headed, but I didn't think it was a good time to ask.
She took us to a park not far from the police station. It was one of the bigger parks in the city with a man made lake at its heart. Izzy threw the car into park hard enough to cause the steering column shifter to crack. Then she killed the engine and left the car. I stepped out and rushed to catch her. Izzy was a hundred yards from the car when I caught up.
The woman I loved, bit refused to give me the time of day marched through the park like she had a purpose. I soon found out what purpose she had when we came to another parking area with a white trailer hitched to a red Chevy pickup. Izzy went straight to the window 8n the side of the trailer.
“Ola,” she said. “Give me four Pastor tacos and a side of beans and rice.” She looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
“Uh,” I said.
Izzy rolled her eyes and turned back to the food trailer. “Let me get a steak torta for Shakespeare and some chips and salsa.”
“You got it, Detective. It's good to see you again.” The young woman in the trailer leaned over to see out the small window, and gave me a good view of her cleavage. It looked like her heavy breasts were a centimeter away from spilling out of her shirt.
“Come on,” Izzy said. “Your not doing anything to endear yourself to me by eye fucking Marina.”
My mouth opened then snapped shut. I followed Izzy to a picnic table not far from the truck she sat and I took the spit across from her. My turtle refused to look at me and I felt the anger radiating from her. Once again I found myself wishing my Tua couldn't hear my thoughts. Or that Izzy couldn't. Miranda might have egged me on, and Tabitha might be inclined to offer the woman a spot in our bed. But me looking at a woman obviously flaunting what she had seemed to make Izzy angrier.
“I'm angry for a lot of reasons,” Izzy said, but she didn't’ raise her head and look at me. “Mostly because I miss my job. I am a good detective.”
“I don't doubt that, Izzy. I'm sorry you had to leave. Maybe you can go back once everything is back to normal,” I said.
Izzy slapped her open hand against the table. “There will never be anything normal again. My life has taken a turn I didn't expect or want. It's too late to go back now. Just because I'm not wearing a shield on my chest doesn't mean I can walk with Arnold and his pack of thugs hurting people. I swore to protect and serve, and that is what I’m going to do.”
“I'm sorry I screwed up your life. Maybe you shouldn't have accepted my offer to become a Tua,” I said.
Izzy slammed her hand down on the table again. “Damn you! Fucking gringo.”
“Stay right there,” Izzy snapped
She went to the truck and paid. Then a couple baskets were handed out to her. She smiled and shared a few words with the woman before returning.
“I think you'll like this,” She said as she took her seat. “Have you had a torta before?”
“No, this will be my first time.”
“Good. You'll like it.”
Chapter 9
Neither Izzy or I spoke while we ate.
The sandwich turned out to be amazing. The rage simmering under my turtles cool exterior not so much. The taste and mix of textures elicited more than one groan of pleasure.
“What's our next move?” I asked.
“I think we should call it a night. You need to commune with the strange disc and I need some time to think.”
“You want we should stay in a really nice place? Apparently I have access to a lot of money.” I waved the black card for her to see.
“Oh, you are paying, but not for one of those sickening rich yuppy fuck's rooms. I know a mom and pop owned motel and eatery. The food is good and the rooms comfy. Or is that too quaint for his lordship?”
“Ouch. That one cut deep,” I mocked while wearing a grin. “That's cool with me. I felt out of place in the palace Miranda rented for us.”
“Good. Let's get going.” Izzy balled up the paper her food came wrapped in and tossed it over head like a pro basketball player. “Nothin but net,” she whispered.
***
The woman working the front desk at the motel had a warm smile and kind eyes. She was old enough to be my grandmother and gave off the, i'm going to spoil my grand baby rotten, vibe.
“That can't be right,” Izzy said. “Only one room left? Is there an event in town I'm not aware of?”
“No dear, it happens from time to time. S9me youngster will stay with us and be so impressed with our hospitality they Yelp us. Then we see a wave of kore youngsters ready to try us and Yelp us. I'm sorry, honey, but this is the only room we have available. I can have a spare folding bed brought up?”
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