by Nora Kane
“If you’re wondering, you also have your own T.V. in your room,” Ms. X told Margot.
“I wasn’t, but thanks.”
“Can I see your phone?” Cassie asked.
“You think you can decode what my brain punched in while being deprived of blood?”
“Maybe.”
Margot handed her the phone. “Good luck.”
Cassie took it and then set it down right away. Without a word, she got up and went to her room. She returned moments later with a small notebook and a pen.
“I think I heard you say you didn’t get it all?” Cassie asked.
“I didn’t.”
“Do you remember how many?”
“It’s foggy, but I think seven. It seems like the last two were obscured—or by the time I got there, he was already too far away.”
“Would that even do us any good?” Ms. X asked.
“If they cross-reference what she got with the make and model, they could track it down pretty quickly,” Cassie told her.
Ms. X looked at Margot.
“She’s right,” Margot confirmed. “The more the better since we’d be guessing on the year of the car, but it’d take my friend in the department about ten minutes if we had accurate information. She might even do it for free, given the circumstances.”
“Couldn’t you just tell the police?” Ms. X asked.
Margot laughed. “Yeah, I guess there’s no need to go through back channels. Sorry, old habits die hard.”
Cassie picked up the phone again and looked at the note Margot had left for herself. After a long second, she started writing.
“The T, W, and M are probably right. My guess is the reason there are ten nines is you were blacking out without knowing it and held your finger on the number, causing it to repeat.”
“Makes some sense,” Ms. X chipped in.
“Unless there is more than one nine...”
“Yeah, but the odds are with us that it’s not, though it’s certainly possible. Let’s assume you did the same thing on the A and the seven. That gives us TWM9A7. Six characters. Are you sure you got seven?”
“No, everything is a fog from when I crawled out of the car, but seven feels right.”
“Then one is a double.”
“Or I missed typing in the last one completely.”
“Isn’t six nearly as good as seven if they can cross-reference the vehicle?” Ms. X asked.
“I think our host has a point.”
“Assuming any of it is right at all,” Margot sighed.
“Don’t be so negative,” Cassie told her as she handed her the notebook with the six digits written at the top of an otherwise blank piece of paper. “Call your boyfriend and have him get on this.”
Cassie put Margot’s phone on the table and slid it to her.
Instead of calling Radcliff though, Margot found Myers’ card and dialed him instead.
Chapter 7
Margot slept well, though a lot of that probably had to do with the pain medication the doctors had sent with her. It was strong enough that she didn’t miss her usual tumbler of Maker’s Make over ice. It was probably just as well Ms. X didn’t keep a stocked liquor cabinet since mixing alcohol and pain meds would be a bad idea. Margot knew herself well enough to know it was a bad idea she could talk herself into.
She made her way to the kitchen and found Cassie there.
“I guess Blondie and Ms. X already grabbed breakfast,” she remarked.
“Hours ago. Then Blondie left, going to her sister’s in Arizona or something. Ms. X
wasn’t thrilled with her decision, but it’s not like she could force her to stay.”
“I slept through all that?”
“Yeah, they must have given you the good drugs.”
“I guess so.”
“You know, you still haven’t given me that interview you promised,” Cassie mused as Margot found a bottle of orange juice in the refrigerator.
“Now that we’re roommates on lockdown, I’m sure we can work it in.”
“No time like the present.”
Margot found a glass, filled it with juice, and took the seat across from Cassie.
“Actually, I was thinking about the stories Burke fed you. One of them has to be what set this off.”
“Haven’t we gone over this already?” Cassie asked.
She was right; she and Margot had discussed this topic at length during one of her first visits after Shaw hid her at the safe house.
“If it gets us both out of here, I think it’s worth going over again.”
“You think I haven’t? One thing I have around here is time.”
“The last one was about the Masterson Hot Tub Massacre, right?”
“Yeah, I sent you the link.”
“I watched it. No offense to your show, but it just seemed like another hit piece on Phoebe Masterson. There really wasn’t any new information.”
“You’re telling me? I said the same thing at the time. Why feed me a story that doesn’t actually have any ‘story’ in it? Burke was pretty insistent though, and considering what I was getting out of him, I couldn’t really say no.”
“They were using you to try to flush out a new player in town. Which explains the Cartel heavy content and the Harry Lee stuff, but the Phoebe one doesn’t fit.”
“She was connected to Harry Lee, and so was her husband.”
“Yeah, but if they wanted to get Harry Lee’s attention, why not send you a story about him? He’s been under investigation forever. It wouldn’t be hard.”
“Does it matter anyway? The guy who kidnapped me seemed like Cartel all the way.”
“I agree, and Mal is involved too. Harry says he’s not working for him anymore, and Mal has made deals with the Cartel before. Once they get a person, they tend to like to keep them.”
“So, we’re dealing with an insanely well-funded criminal organization from another country?”
“You left out brutal, merciless, and with very long memories. It’d be better if it was Harry Lee, but I can’t see any way he’d kill Tommy, especially not that way. His enemies tend to disappear without a trace.”
“So, we’re both screwed.”
“Looks that way. The only thing making me hesitate is what Mal said to me before things got really bad.”
“What did he say?”
“Promise not to make it a show?”
“I think I might be done with crime shows for a while.”
“Then what do you want an interview for?”
“Because old habits die hard. What did Mal tell you?”
“He said he had one more big score, and then we could both run off and be together. He wouldn’t tell me what it was or who it involved.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not the cartel.”
“No, it doesn’t, but he’d have no reason not to tell me if it was them. What would it matter if I knew? They’re basically untouchable.”
“Maybe he knew you’d say no if he said he was working for the cartel.”
“I said no anyway. He should have known I’d never say yes. Even if that doesn’t mean anything, the guy he shot for me was probably cartel-affiliated at the very least.”
“Probably, but what does that matter?”
“Mal likes me, maybe even loves me in his own way, but he likes himself more. Shooting down a fellow cartel man would be a death sentence for sure. At that point, his best play would have been to let me arrest him, but he was adamant that wasn’t going to happen.”
“Even though it’s the worst-case scenario for both of us, I’d say they have to be involved.”
“The question is how much. If someone came over from Mexico to take over Harry’s business, they wouldn’t be a mystery. It feels more like they’re hired muscle, which would explain why Mal was confident he could shoot one of them.”
“Does the Cartel do that?”
“It’s not unheard of. They’d back somebody for a piece of the business. Especia
lly if they didn’t have a strong foothold in the business in question.”
“Someone like Harry Lee?”
“Someone exactly like Harry Lee.”
“How do you and I figure into Harry Lee’s business?”
“We don’t. I’d say they want you because you put something on your show that pissed them off, and they want me because I keep stopping them from killing you.”
“I appreciate that, by the way.”
“No problem.”
“Actually, it’s turned into a huge problem.”
Margot couldn’t argue with her there.
“A bigger question is what was going on with Miss Dithers?” Margot asked after a pause.
“She exposed her husband who worked for somebody involved in this.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I’ve got sources. Somebody tipped me about a divorce court hearing where the spouse started threatening her husband with exposure for his work with organized crime. She claimed to have evidence, so I did some digging. If people hadn’t started trying to kill me, I was thinking about running a story.”
“I was the evidence. Dithers set me up to see him make the exchange. I thought I was tracking a cheating husband. There’s definitely a connection since the guy her husband saw was getting ready to torture me for your location when Mal interceded. My question wasn’t why they killed her, but why did she come to me asking me to solve her ex-husband’s murder.”
“He’s dead too?”
“No, at least he wasn’t when she hired me. Who knows now.”
“Well, we’ve talked it out, and I’m more confused than before.”
“Yeah, I guess I should have taken in Mal when I had a chance. If anyone knows what’s going on, it’s him.”
“The way I heard it, he wasn’t too keen on being taken alive.”
“What you heard?”
“Your boss and Ms. X have a thing. We talked. I like him.”
“Me too. I hope I haven’t put him in harm's way over this.”
“Are you talking about Mr. Shaw?”
They looked over to see Ms. X standing by the entrance to the kitchen.
“We’re only saying nice things,” Cassie told her.
“I’m sure you are. He texted to say he was on his way over with the rest of your stuff, Margot. He should be here any minute.”
“Excellent.”
“I was glad to see him texting. I’ve been telling him it’s easier than calling every time, but he says he’s old school that way.”
“He never texts me either,” Margot said, rolling her eyes.
From the kitchen, they could hear a car pull into the driveway.
Ms. X looked toward the front of the house and said, “He doesn’t usually park in the driveway. I guess he doesn’t want to carry your stuff across the yard.”
“Anybody else think it’s weird he’s taking up doing things differently today?” Cassie asked tentatively.
Both Margot and Ms. X had the same thought at the same time.
“Shit!” they said in unison.
“You two go out the back,” Ms. X instructed them as she went for the shotgun in the closet.
Cassie was in the lead, heading for the sliding glass door off of the T.V. room. Margot was right behind, her wishing she hadn’t left her purse with all her weapons in the bedroom.
Cassie stopped quickly and turned away from the door, running right into Margot.
Margot looked past her to see the tall man with the twin guns was already in the backyard. She pulled Cassie down to the floor just as a burst from the gun in his left hand shattered the glass back door.
She was crawling toward her bedroom when she saw Ms. X come into the room.
A man had her in a headlock and was dragging her into the room with a gun to her head.
“Maybe if you behave, I won’t kill her. Maybe.”
Margot stopped crawling.
The man with the machine guns stepped inside.
“Put her with them, and go get our friend,” he said to the man.
The gunman dragged Ms. X to the center of the room where Cassie and Margot had stopped and dropped her next to Margot.
“You all know what’s going to happen if you try to run, don’t you?” the man with the machine guns demanded.
“Is it any different than what you’re going to do if we don’t?’ Margot asked.
He smiled. “You want to see who your friend is, don’t you?”
Margot wasn’t sure the right answer to that. She was thinking it would be Mal but instead, he dragged in Shaw.
“I told him if he gave me a hard time, he was going to have to watch,” the man with the machine guns sniggered. He turned to Cassie. “I’m going to ask you who your source is one time. Then I’m going to shoot somebody in the face. I’m going to let you pick who though.”
“I don’t have a source in the cartel.”
“Okay, do I shoot Margot, the lady with the gray hair, or detective Shaw?”
“It’s Mal.”
“Mal’s not here. Pick somebody that is.”
“No, my source was and still is Mal.”
“Bullshit.”
“How do you think Margot and I got to be friends?”
“You saying the guy who tracked you down and handed you over to Sanchez to be tortured until you gave up your source was the source? Sounds kind of like bullshit to me.”
“Do you know Mal?”
“A little bit.”
“Then you know he’s crazy.”
“How do you think I found Mr. Clean?” Margot said.
“Who?”
“Sanchez.”
“Still sounds like bullshit, but I’ll be sure to ask him. Now pick somebody.”
“I told you who it was.”
“After you lied to me. Pick.”
Cassie started to cry.
“I didn’t say bawl like a baby. Pick one or I’m killing two.”
Cassie couldn’t bring herself to choose.
“Okay, I’ll start with Shaw to make it easy and then you can pick between the other two.”
Margot stood up. “She picks me.”