Bullseye

by Virginia Smith

  His answer didn’t have the ring of a wholehearted endorsement, and left Karina a little uneasy. She exchanged a glance with Mason. His shoulder lifted a fraction and he said under his breath to her, “We’ll play it by ear.” Then Officer Graham arrived, and Parker slid over in the booth to make room for him.

  “Ms. Guerrero.” He nodded a greeting across the table to her, and then turned a slightly more guarded gaze on Mason. “Sinclair.”

  The server arrived with four short glasses of water. When they’d been placed on the table, she picked up her order pad from the round serving tray, held it up to shake off a few drops of water and took their orders. Then she disappeared toward the kitchen.

  “On the phone you said you needed help figuring something out.” Parker picked up his water glass and held it before his lips. “Has something happened since we talked to you yesterday afternoon?”

  Mason shot her a glance with an unspoken question. Should they tell him what they’d discovered? Karina honestly didn’t know. If she’d learned anything in the past hour, it was that she’d been absolutely clueless where Alex was concerned. All this time she’d thought she was a good sister, that they had the kind of relationship that her brother would come to her with anything that bothered him. Obviously, she’d been wrong. And then she’d trusted Hector, even though it was beginning to look like Mason was right about him. For some reason she didn’t feel comfortable telling these two police officers everything they’d learned, but she didn’t trust her own judgment anymore.

  Giving a helpless shrug, she nodded for Mason to continue.

  * * *

  “So that’s the long and short of it.” Mason picked up a French fry from his half-eaten lunch and dunked it in a puddle of ketchup. “We couldn’t get anything else out of Alex because we ran out of time.”

  Parker wiped his mouth with a napkin, wadded it into a ball, and tossed it onto his empty plate. Beside Mason, Karina shoved lettuce around in the salad from which she’d only taken a few bites. Graham had stopped eating halfway through his burger, and leaned back to fix an intent gaze on Mason.

  “So Alex didn’t identify the man who shot his friend?” Parker lounged back and looked around the booth.

  “No, other than to say he didn’t fit Maddox’s description.” Mason washed the fry down with a gulp of lemonade. “But that’s not surprising. Somebody like Maddox wouldn’t do his own dirty work. He probably has a dozen or more thugs to handle things like snuffing punk kids.”

  His former partner’s lips pressed together into a hard line.

  Graham finally ended his silence to ask a question. “Why are you so sure Russell Maddox is involved? Do you have any proof?”

  Mason used a French fry as a distraction, chewing while he considered the best way to answer. Something about the way Parker’s partner watched him through slightly narrowed eyes, as if he suspected every word he heard, rubbed him the wrong way.

  But that’s what a good investigator does. He watches. He questions.

  Was it possible he was jealous of the guy who was his former partner’s new sidekick? He didn’t think so, but he couldn’t stop the feeling that the guy was too quiet, too watchful. And apparently Parker wasn’t one hundred percent confident in him, either. For that reason alone Mason didn’t want to play every card in their hand. It might be best if Graham didn’t know he was actively investigating the crime, but thought he was only in town to support his old friends Karina and Alex.

  “No physical evidence, if that’s what you mean.” He glanced over at Parker. “But I’ve suspected the guy was involved in something shady for a long time.”

  “Since your wife was murdered, you mean.”

  Graham’s quiet voice drew Mason’s gaze back to his face. There he found the first emotion he’d seen in the guy’s eyes. Compassion. Mason shifted on the vinyl-covered bench. “Yeah.”

  Parker stirred the ice in his glass with his straw. “You didn’t have any proof then, and you don’t have any now. Face it, you’re never going to find anything to connect Maddox with Margie’s murder.”

  Mason answered quickly. “I’m not trying to. There’s been a new murder, in case you haven’t heard.” He filled his lungs and blew the breath out. “And even if Maddox isn’t involved, the fact that the boys were running packages to the fitness center where she was killed pretty much proves there’s a connection between the two deaths.”

  Both police officers nodded.

  “Actually…” Parker exchanged a glance with Graham, who answered with a slow nod. Parker set his glass down on the table and fixed Mason with a direct gaze. “The news of an illegal arms dealer operating in Albuquerque isn’t a complete surprise. There’s been evidence that something like this was going on for several years. It might even have been in place back when Margie was killed, buddy.”

  Instead of feeling triumphant, as he could have expected at a confirmation of his suspicions, Mason felt a nearly unbearable sadness. Beneath the cover of the table, Karina slipped a hand inside his. He squeezed it, drawing comfort from the contact.

  The server arrived to clear away their empty dishes. An uncomfortable silence fell and continued for a minute or so after she left.

  Then Parker leaned across the table, his voice pitched low. “Look, I’ll admit something. Ever since you left Albuquerque, I’ve kept my antennae up for news about Maddox. There’s never a hint of suspicion about him. If he’s involved in anything illegal, he’s so far removed nobody will ever be able to pin it on him.”

  The news that his old partner had actually listened to his instincts acted like a tonic on Mason. If he could get Parker’s help in investigating Maddox, they might actually be able to nail the guy. “But everybody leaves a trail. There’s got to be something. What about the crime lab? Have you looked for a connection there?”

  Graham bristled at the idea. “That’s a ridiculous suggestion. Why would you suspect the crime lab?”

  His vehemence rubbed Mason the wrong way. What, did the guy have a buddy in the crime lab or something? He worked hard to control his features as he answered.

  “Because Alex insists neither he nor José were using drugs. Or ever used drugs, in fact. So either he’s being dishonest, or those lab results were wrong. Either by mistake, or on purpose.”

  An incredulous expression stole over the guy’s face. “And you believe a teenager over professional lab technicians?”

  “I do,” Karina answered instantly. “My brother doesn’t take drugs.”

  The patronizing smile he turned on her stomped all over Mason’s nerves. With an iron will he restrained his tongue, tore his gaze from Graham and looked pointedly at Parker. “There’s also the lawyer. Weasel of a guy, so wet behind the ears his collar’s probably damp. He used exactly the same phrase in talking to Alex that the killer did. No doubt in my mind at all that he’s involved.”

  “If that’s true,” insisted Graham, “then you need to contact the D.A.”

  If that’s true? Mason bristled at the implication, but the pressure from Karina’s hand on his urged him to silence.

  She shook her head. “The district attorney is the one who is recommending that Alex be tried as an adult. What if he’s mixed up with the others?”

  Lips pursed, Parker looked at her for a moment, then shook his head. “I can’t believe this thing involves lawyers and judges and the crime lab. I mean, look. Illegal dealings are almost a given with all the increase in activity from the Mexican drug cartels in the U.S. lately. We’re so close to the border, and we have such a high Hispanic population with ties back to Mexico, we’d be stupid not to suspect some sort of traffic back and forth. Illegal arms?” He shrugged. “I hate to think it’s true, but it doesn’t really surprise me.” He rested his arms on the table and entwined his fingers on the surface. “But I have a hard time accepting a widespread web of crime
the size you two are hinting at.”

  “I don’t believe it at all. It’s starting to sound like a giant conspiracy theory straight out of Hollywood.” Graham slid out of the booth and snatched the check off the table. “I’ve got this. You guys can handle the tip. I need some air.”

  He headed for the cash register at the end of the counter without another word.

  Mason watched his retreating back. “Nice guy, your new partner. How’d you get stuck with him? Did you lose a bet or something?”

  Parker answered with a snort. “Grierson likes him. Told me his focus would balance my tendency to take a scatter-shot

  approach to investigation.” He dug a five out of his wallet and tossed it on the table. Then he slid to the other side of the bench seat so he was looking directly across the table into Mason’s face. “Look, I hate to say it, but in this case, Graham’s right. You sound like one of those conspiracy theorists.”

  The words acted like water on a fire. Mason’s shoulders sagged. “But if Maddox is involved, its gonna be big, right? He’s got a finger in every pie in this state.” His glance slid to the cash register, where Officer Graham was tucking his change away in his wallet. “Maybe your partner’s involved, too. Did you ever think of that?”

  The idea startled Parker so much he reared back and flattened his back against the booth’s high rear cushion. His mouth opened, and Mason could already hear the protest that was coming. But then he stopped. His eyes unfocused as though something had just occurred to him.

  “What is it?” Karina asked.

  Parker shook his head and clamped his lips shut. “Nothing. I can’t believe that. Graham’s like an arrow. He flies the straightest line you ever saw.”

  If Mason hadn’t worked with Parker for over a year back when he first joined the police force, he might not have caught the hint of hesitation in the man’s tone. In the next instant, it was gone, and Parker slid out of the booth.

  “Gotta go. But listen, I’ll keep an ear out. If I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Mason stood and shook his hand. “Thanks, buddy. I appreciate it.”

  The grin returned to Parker’s face. “We’re on patrol again tonight, so if you feel like taking another nap, go ahead. I’ll keep an eye on both of you.”

  With that jab he sauntered toward the front of the restaurant and disappeared through the door.

  Mason returned to his seat. He and Karina sat in silence for a moment. Through the window, they watched the two police cruisers pull out of their parking places and turn onto the road.

  “Do you think they’re right?” Doubt made Karina’s tone heavy. “Are we seeing conspiracies where there aren’t any?”

  Were they? Mason raised a hand and rubbed it over his velvety soft and freshly clipped hair. The burn on the side of his face stung, a vivid reminder that they weren’t simply talking about a hypothetical situation. The danger to Alex and to Karina was real. But from where did it come? How could he fight against an enemy he couldn’t see, couldn’t identify?

  “No.” He poured all the confidence he felt into his voice. “They’re not right. We’re on the right track, I know we are. It’s like an upside-down pyramid. Everything balances on that bottom brick. If we can just find some evidence to tie Maddox to these illegal weapons, the whole thing’s going to come down into one big pile.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Though she knew Mason didn’t want to, Karina insisted on going back to work after lunch. She hated to leave Lana hanging, for one thing. But her main reason was because she didn’t know what to do with Mason hovering over her every minute. The brooding silence as he glared at every car that passed had set her nerves on edge and had her jumping at shadows. Even the thought of going back to the apartment and sitting there, watching him pace from the sofa to the window, almost drove her nuts. So she overrode his protests and returned to work for the afternoon. Thankfully the salon was busy for a Thursday, and she was able to ignore her tangled thoughts and his brooding, pacing presence.

  Night had fallen when they left the shop. They drove through a fast-food restaurant for a supper of hamburgers and fries, and headed for her apartment. When Mason shifted the car into Park, he turned a cautious glance her way.

  “So, are you going to make me sleep in the car again tonight?”

  Lifting her purse from the floor to sling over her shoulder, she grasped the food bag in her hands and avoided his stare. “Probably.”

  A grunt sounded loud in the interior of the car. “I figured. Can I at least use your shower first?”

  Somewhat relieved that he wasn’t putting up an argument, she readily agreed. “Of course. And really, you don’t have to stay the night. You could go back to your hotel, or call your friend and use his guest room. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  She saw his shoulders heave with a laugh, but before it was fueled by any sound, he froze. The look on his face stirred a tendril of fear deep inside her.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  His head jerked forward, to something beyond the windshield. Karina followed his gaze, and her pulse kicked up speed. Something hung on her front door. Something white and shaped like an envelope.

  Reasons fired around in her mind. A shut-off notice, maybe? She’d been late on her electric bill in the past and received the final notice in the form of a letter on her door. But she’d paid her bills this month, all of them. Something about Alex, then?

  Without another word, she opened the door and exited the car. As she half ran up the sidewalk to her front door, she was aware that Mason had left the car and was following her. A single sheet of paper without an envelope had been stuck on the front door with a piece of duct tape. From the outside it looked like a sheet of clean everyday typing paper, no writing visible. She snatched it off the door and flipped it over to read a hand-lettered note.

  Call off your bloodhound or you’ll end up like his wife.

  The words hit her like blows, and left her mind ringing. Wordlessly she held the paper up for Mason to see. As he read, color drained from his face.

  He took the page from her with a two-fingered grasp. “We have to show this to Parker.”

  She wanted to say okay, but for some reason her throat didn’t work. She couldn’t force a sound through. Instead, she nodded. Then she reached into her purse and grabbed her keys. The door handle, thank goodness, was still locked.

  But the minute she swung the door inward, everything felt different. Strange. Before she even flipped the light switch, she knew something was wrong. When she did, she immediately noticed the missing picture on the living room wall.

  Then her gaze dropped to the floor, and her blood froze in her veins. The family picture of her, Alex and Papa wasn’t missing. There it lay, on the floor, the glass shattered.

  Her shears protruded from the center of Alex’s face.

  * * *

  “Well, whoever this guy is, he doesn’t have much imagination, does he?” Parker stood in a corner beside Mason, the two of them watching as Graham used a digital camera to snap pictures of the mess on the floor. “Same message as before.”

  Mason stared at the shattered frame, at the scissors protruding from the glass. His gaze rose to Karina, who stood in the opposite corner of the small living room, her arms wrapped so tightly around her middle it looked like she might cut off the blood supply to her legs. “He doesn’t really need a new method. This one’s pretty effective.”

  Parker cocked his head sideways. “You got a point.”

  Graham went down on a knee to get a close-up, and spoke as he snapped. “Somebody better call juvy and warn them to put an extra watch on the kid.”

  Mason didn’t like the guy, didn’t trust him at all, but he had to admit that was a good idea. At his words, though, Karina started like a scared rabbit. Apparently she h
adn’t realized this could be as much a threat to Alex as to her.

  Her expression became sour. “There was an extra watch on me, wasn’t there?” A hand swept toward the mess on the floor. “It didn’t seem to do much good.”

  Beside Mason, Parker shifted on his feet and avoided her fiery gaze. Graham straightened and looked her in the eye. “We weren’t watching your house, ma’am. We were watching you.”

  Before anyone could reply, the front door opened. Not a soft, tentative crack, but a swift swinging of the door inward, as though the person on the other side had turned the knob and given it a kick at the same time. Graham whirled, his hand flying to the weapon holstered on his belt. Beside Mason, Parker actually had his holster strap unsnapped as he took an instinctive step toward Karina.

  Mason’s pulse reacted as though someone had stomped on the gas pedal and sent his heart into overdrive, but within a couple of heartbeats the tension was past. Detective Grierson stepped into the small living room, a storm gathered on his features.

  The man’s gaze swept the room, pausing for a moment over the picture frame on the floor and then coming to rest on Mason. A piece of stray glass crunched under his shoes as he stomped over to stand in front of Mason and glare into his face.

  “I don’t know what’s going on here, Sinclair, but one thing’s obvious. You’re up to your eyeballs in it. And whatever it is stinks.”

  Four years were stripped away in the span of two seconds, and Mason was once again a suspended police officer standing stiffly at attention while his sergeant practically accused him of murdering his own wife. A hot wave of anger rose from a long-hidden place deep in his soul, where a four-year-old fire smoldered. He stepped forward until the toes of his shoes bumped against Grierson’s, and shoved his face until barely an inch of air separated their noses.

  “You know what that smell is, Sergeant? It’s incompetence, and it stinks.”