Malcolm was the only man Elan identified in the video. The others didn’t look like they were from Colombia. I assumed they were from someplace in or near San Francisco. Since no one seemed to match up with any missing persons reports, we figured they were most likely people who lived on the streets. There were a lot of able-bodied teens and young adults that roamed the Tenderloin neighborhood. Reilly arranged for a few officers from the Tenderloin precinct to come have a look in the hopes that we would get lucky.
We all understood Elan’s importance to the case. Everything we knew we had learned from him. Solving the case would require keeping him alive. I still had concerns about his safety, and it took some convincing for Reilly to get on board. Lately, the department budget had been under intense scrutiny, and not every witness got the same treatment. I had pushed for a twenty-four-hour security detail outside his hotel room.
“Faro Zapata will do this again,” Elan said. “And if he sells the drug to others like himself, you will have multiple people creating armies of these men to do their bidding. Also, we still don’t know the long-term effects of this drug.”
That convinced Reilly, who signed off on the paperwork and proceeded to stick Elan in the nearest, decent hotel. Cabrera decided to get a room a few doors down from Elan, which made me feel a bit better. Another eye on Elan couldn’t hurt.
My plan was to head home once I had my witness tucked safely away in his room. What should have been a few days out of town had morphed into a two-and-a-half-week time suck. I even missed seeing Ryan off to camp. It was moments like those when I can honestly say I appreciate having a mother-in-law who was so willing to help out with the kids. I spoke and texted with them while I was gone, but it wasn’t the same as being there—not by a long shot.
Maybe I felt guilty because the summer of family fun wasn’t really happening. I had lost almost three weeks of it to this case, and I could expect to lose more. But I wasn’t going to let that thought spoil my excitement at finally being able to go home.
I gave my cell number to the security detail outside of Elan’s door then headed to the elevators. All I could think of was hurrying home so I could see my family. As the elevator opened, I heard someone call my name. Cabrera was jogging down the hallway toward me.
“Wait up.” He entered the elevator with me. “Now that we’re off the clock, technically, maybe you can show me your city.” Cabrera moved in closer to me. I could smell tiny whiffs of cologne radiating off his chest and neck area.
“Well, first off, it’s not my city. I feel like a newbie myself. I’ve only been here for a few years. And anyway, you know this place. You studied here,” I said, playfully poking his arm.
His brown eyes settled on mine. “Yeah, you’re right. I was just looking for an excuse to hang out.”
I giggled and looked away for a moment. His stare could be so intense at times. “You know you don’t need an excuse, but I’m going to have to take a rain check for tonight. I’m dying to see little Lucy and Po Po.”
“How stupid of me. Of course, family always comes first. But what about little Ryan?”
“Big Ryan is at camp.”
“I’ll be here for a while. Another night then.”
He smiled as he took a step closer to me. His eyes never left mine, except to look at my lips. My entire body knew what to expect next as my legs weakened and my heart seemed to stretch out its every beat. We had an unspoken rule that we would keep our little tryst professional. Well, I had that rule, but I think Cabrera had learned to respect it. So there was no touching, grabbing, hugging or kissing in or around the job or coworkers. It had been many, many days of professionalism.
I watched his large frame lean toward me slowly, making me wait. Normally, I like the anticipation, but we were in an elevator, and time was of the essence. I peeked at the floor numbers, and we had just passed the fourth. Our window of opportunity was closing. Soon the doors would open to a very public lobby. I appreciated his slow, romantic move for a kiss, but if our lip-lock was going to happen, it needed to be kicked into high gear. So I grabbed him by his shirt, yanked his juicy lips toward mine and gave him an open-mouthed tongue lashing that lasted for an unforgettable three seconds. When I opened my eyes, his were still closed. Good work, Abby.
“Abby to Dom: wake up.”
“Huh?”
The elevator doors opened. “Come on,” I said, flashing him a smile.
“Why are you grinning like that?”
“Eh, looked like you were under a spell for moment.”
“Oh, is that so? I’m the one under a spell?”
I held up a finger and mimicked wrapping a string around it.
He reeled back in dramatic fashion. “Oh, is that what you think? If you ask me, I think it’s the other way around.” He leaned in a bit and whispered, “I wasn’t the aggressive one back there.”
“No, you were the shy boy who didn’t know what to do and needed a woman to show you how it was done.”
“You’re right.” This time he leaned too close, forgetting the rules. I stuck my index finger right into his chest and backed him off. It was his turn to be left wanting.
Chapter 53
I had barely set foot inside our Victorian when Lucy came barreling at me. She had both hands stretched out in front as she squealed, “Moommmyyy!”
When the plane had landed, I had put a call into Po Po to let her know I was on US soil but had to make a stop at the office before heading home. I knew she would spill the beans to Lucy. I didn’t mind though. In Lucy’s world, days tended to blend together. She really didn’t know how long I had been gone—only that I wasn’t there.
I dropped to my knees with open arms and waited for Lucy, who was unable to slow down completely before impact. She crashed into me, nearly knocking me over. But oh did it feel so good to have her in my arms. I didn’t even mind her shouting, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, you’re home!” at the top of her lungs, causing painful, temporary deafness in my left ear. I smothered her with quick kisses all over her face, which set off the giggles. She begged me to stop, but I increased my sweet pecks until we fell to the floor, both out of breath and laughing.
“Good to have you home.”
I looked up and saw Po Po standing there with a dishcloth in one hand and a ladle in the other. She picked up my suitcase and moved it out of the doorway, closing the door behind her.
“Hi, Po Po. It’s good to be home. Everything okay around here?”
“Everything fine. No problems. You hungry? I made jok.” She then turned around and headed into the kitchen.
I lay on my back while little Lucy sat on top of me and played with my hair. She had been asking me a series of questions, not really waiting for an answer on any particular one. I tried to answer the questions that wouldn’t lead into a series of whys. I had been wrong to think I could pull it off.
Lucy and her curiosity followed me into the kitchen and sat in the chair next to me. Po Po placed a bowl of the rice porridge in front of me. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the familiar smell hit my nose. My mother used to make a fresh pot of jok every Sunday, and by Tuesday it was always gone. Her version required dried orange peels to give it that citrus bite, which I could never taste, but boy did I hate biting into them. Blech! Thankfully, my mother-in-law didn’t follow the same recipe. I dug in and, between bites, answered Lucy’s questions.
“I have more pictures for you, Lucy. Go get Mommy’s purse.”
She returned with my bag, and I took out my phone and gave it to her. She proceeded to “ooh” over the other jungle pictures I had taken. I then retrieved a bracelet that one of the women in the village had fashioned for me for the ceremony and gave it to Lucy. Her “ooh” turned into a “wow!” as she modeled it on her wrist for Po Po and me.
“Did Ryan get upset that I wasn’t here when he left for camp?” I asked while I blew on a spoonful of the rice porridge before placing it in my mouth.
Po Po waved off the notion. “H
e was fine. He so excited to go.”
I figured as much, but I couldn’t help but think he kept count of all the times I had failed to be there. Sadly, it had already been a week and a half since Ryan had shipped off for camp. He’d been able to hitch a ride with a friend to the bus pickup area near Pier 39. I should have been there waving goodbye along with all the other parents.
I had signed him up for a three-week program, so I knew he would be home soon. In another positive, I was home just in time to attend Family Day at the camp, which was the very next day. It was the only time parents and siblings were invited to visit. Even though I was exhausted, nothing would keep me from making that trip—not even the FBI. They could live without me for one day.
That evening, Lucy and I kept busy by making wontons and gau gee from scratch, something I had loved doing with my mother when I was young. Lucy was an excellent folder of the wonton wrapper. My plan was to rise early and fry them up before we left. Po Po was busy preparing her special house noodles. The camp encouraged parents to pack a picnic on the day they visited. We were making preparations for Ryan’s favorite foods: noodles and dim sum. Also in the making were har gow, siu mai, spare ribs, hot and spicy wings, and pot stickers. We also planned to pick up a few char siu bao from Chinatown before leaving. You know how it is when you haven’t seen your kid in a while. Somehow, you believe they’ve been starving, and it’s your job to stuff them full for the coming winter.
The drive to Yosemite took us three and a half hours; luckily, we had Lucy entertaining us with her singing for most of the trip. She sang the first verse of She’ll Be Coming ‘Round the Mountain and nothing more. We arrived at a little after ten in the morning, at the same time as most of the other families. The parking lot was total chaos, but eventually, we found a spot.
When we located Ryan, we saw a whole different side of him that we’d never seen before. He had a permanent smile on his face and a tan, of all things. I had never seen him with color in his skin. From the moment we came together, he couldn’t stop telling us about all the things he had done and learned so far at camp. The counselors gave the families a guided tour of the grounds before turning everyone loose for lunch. We were told to meet at the outdoor stage at 2:00 p.m. where an hour-long performance by all the kids would take place. The rest of the day, until five, had been designated as free time.
During lunch, I had to keep reminding Ryan to eat. He had been so engrossed in his storytelling and making sure he left nothing out that he kept forgetting to put food in his mouth. Not once had I seen this sort of enthusiasm from him in anything. It made me feel happy for him. When it looked like he was about to take a breather to finish off some wings, I spoke up.
“Remember this?” I removed a necklace from my purse and held it out to him.
His eyes exploded to their widest points. “Oh, yeah! The hunters made this, right?”
“Yup. That’s a tooth from a black caiman.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“It’s a type of crocodile.”
“No way! Thanks, Abby,” he said, throwing his arms around me. He then draped the necklace around his neck and proudly puffed out his chest. The whole family gave him a round of applause. “You look like one of them,” I said.
After eating, I felt like a bloated whale though my taste buds were thanking me for the wonderful bounty.
We watched Ryan’s performance—they reenacted Lewis and Clark’s expedition. After that, we spent the rest of the afternoon by the lake and met some of Ryan’s new friends before piling into the car to head back to the city. I told Ryan I would pick him up at the drop-off point by the wharf in a week and a half. We said our goodbyes and hunkered down for our drive home.
Lucy fell asleep in the backseat mid-song about fifteen minutes down the road. Po Po and I exchanged relieved smiles. We had heard enough about that woman coming around that mountain during the three-and-a-half-hour ride on the way up.
When I parked outside our home, Lucy was still asleep, whistling out of her stuffed nose. Po Po had experienced the head nods for the last hour but did her best to stay up with me. I appreciated that. It was past both of their bedtimes. My eyes also felt heavy, and I didn’t survive much longer after putting Lucy down.
It felt like minutes, but hours had passed before my cell phone rang and ruined my date with Mr. Sandman. The caller ID told me it was Reilly.
“Abby Kane here.”
“Abby, Elan Ortega was right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s gotten worse.”
Chapter 54
Earlier in the day, Vega had put a call in to his lieutenants and told them to start preparing for that night. There were two gangs that prevented him from taking over the Mission neighborhood and claiming it as his territory. He planned on annihilating one of them. If all went as planned, the gang’s entire leadership would be exterminated, something Vega had once thought wasn’t possible.
El Caos was the gang Vega wanted to put down. They claimed most of the south side of the Mission. The largest concentration of the gang lived in an area bordered by 25th and 20th Avenues and Folsom and Portelo Avenues. This would make it easy for Vega’s men to target most of the leadership, but it also made it dangerous because his men could easily be surrounded. That predicament was what had prevented him from making a move on them in the past.
When Vega returned to his gang’s hangout near Hunters’ Point, his second in command, Elduardo “Chupa” Jiminez, had good news for him. Word had spread that the leadership of El Caos were meeting tonight for a celebration of the gang’s birth.
“It’s true,” Chupa confirmed. “We have eyes near the location, and they said it looked like they were getting ready for a party.”
“Tonight we strike.”
“Time to take those pendejos down. When should our soldiers meet?”
“They are not needed. Tell no one for now.”
Chupa watched a wry smirk appear on Vega’s face. “I don’t understand.”
“You, me, and a special weapon is all that’s needed.”
Don Vega said nothing more to his trusted lieutenant, leaving him to wonder how the two of them could succeed.
<><><>
Two white vans pulled up on the western side of Garfield Park a little after midnight. Across the green landscape was Treat Street, ground zero for the El Caos gang. Following closely behind was a black SUV with Zapata, Vega and Chupa inside.
“There,” Chupa pointed, “the white house.”
The lights were on, and there were about seven men hanging out on the porch and the stairs leading to the front door. Zapata ordered the first van to survey the house. He wanted a better assessment of how many gang members might be inside. A few minutes later, the van returned, and Zapata’s phone rang. There were maybe twenty to thirty men inside the house plus the seven outside.
Both vans held the gang of men who had attacked the bank—fourteen, including Malcolm.
Zapata had refused to enlist more when Vega asked—mostly because he didn’t take orders, but also because he wanted to know how they would fare against armed gang members. If they were successful, he knew he would be able to distribute MZ-1 to gangs all over the U.S. in exchange for their cocaine business. If all went as planned, he would have a monopoly on the drug trade. And maybe he could break out from under his boss. If nothing else, it should be entertaining.
Zapata exited his vehicle and walked over to the second van. The side door slid open, and Malcolm exited.
“Are you ready to show these men what you are capable of?”
“I’m hoping you’ve arranged a challenge worth my time.”
Malcolm turned to ready his men. Within seconds the group had taken off on foot, crossing the poorly lit park. Like shadows, they slipped around trees and park benches as they zeroed in on the house. The men on the porch didn’t suspect a thing as they tilted back forties of beer. A chubby one stood up and drained his bottle. He turned
to the sidewalk and took aim at the trashcan near the bottom of the steps when out of the darkness came a shirtless man moving with incredible speed. Large, bounding strides carried him up the steps. Before the confused gang member could gasp, the man was upon him, riding him down and sending his head crashing into a cement banister, where it emitted a loud thunk that reverberated in the bellies of the others. They turned around in time to face their own attackers. Malcolm picked himself up off the gang member as a pool of blood formed under the young man’s head. Focused on the front door, he flashed an evil grin and ran forward.
Chapter 55
By the time I got to 26th Street in the Mission, the block had been cordoned off at both ends, and a tangle of black-and-whites had taken over the street. Red and blue lights lit up the faces of the looky-loos who had gathered in great numbers. As I walked farther into the hive, I noticed multiple vans from the medical examiner’s office. A high body count—that’s the attraction.
I flashed my badge at the two young uniforms on crowd control and slipped by without incident. A few seconds later, I heard my name and spotted Reilly waving at me.
“Thanks for getting here fast.”
“It’s my job. What happened here?”
“A massacre. We counted twenty dead. Five are injured, two in critical condition.”
That number sent shivers throughout my body. “How?”
“Follow me; there’s something I want you to see.”
I kept in step with Reilly as we headed up the steps of the old Victorian. The overwhelming smell of iron punctuated my nostrils as I tiptoed my way around pools of thickening blood. Forensics hadn’t finished their investigation, so the bodies still lay where they fell. I counted six before we got through the front door.
Tenderloin (Abby Kane FBI Thriller) Page 17