Data Capture

by Jesse J. Thoma

“It’s Chief Sam. If you want me to like you, don’t even consider calling me Samantha. I’m not taking your word for it that you aren’t here to cause trouble,” Sam said. “You want my help, this is how you get it.”

  “If my mother could see me now,” Holt said. The thought made her laugh. Her mother would faint seeing her daughter being led into a police station in handcuffs. It was her worst nightmare come true. How it would disgrace the Lasher name.

  “Look,” Sam said as she pushed open the doors to the precinct and led Holt inside. “If everything checks out and I can verify the things you tell me, I’ll get these off. Deal?”

  “Deal. And if you find out I’ve lied to you or I get squirrely, you have my permission to shoot me. Just a word of warning though, my girlfriend really, really hates it when people shoot me, or at me, or even in my general vicinity. So if you do have to go that route, she’s going to take exception.”

  “Jesus, how often do people take shots at you?”

  “It’s been an eventful couple of years,” Holt said. “My line of work isn’t usually so exciting, despite the reputation.”

  Sam pointed Holt to an uncomfortable metal chair in an interrogation room and sat down opposite. She asked her full name, address, the dates of the reports she’d filed with the LAPD, associates, and any other information Holt wanted to give her.

  Holt gave her the phone numbers of the commissioner of the Rhode Island State Police and the Providence mayor. She considered the governor too, but thought she would start with those two. She hoped the State Police weren’t still smarting about the Dubs operation. It had worked out in the end, but there were a few bumps in the road. When the chief went to make her inquiries, Holt sat thinking about what Lola had told her at the hospital. She considered all the angles of Malcolm’s involvement from his being at the top of the food chain to him being a mid level lieutenant punching above his weight class. Malcolm’s repeated reference to another player gave her pause. Those that clawed their way to the top of a street gang didn’t show weakness by admitting shared leadership with anyone.

  So who’s pulling your strings, Malcolm? Another gang member? An outside player?

  Although Holt wasn’t sure it was possible, if she could, she wanted to turn this case over to the LAPD and extract herself and her team. The CMCs seemed to think she was a threat to them, but she’d just as soon let the local authorities handle the heat and go home to her own cases. She was worried about Malcolm’s implication that without her involvement he could make a case go away by pressuring dirty cops, but she wasn’t willing to risk the safety of her family to bring him down. That’s probably why he was so worried when Lola got involved with the case. Holt and her crew were wild cards and outside his sphere of influence. She needed more information.

  It seemed like hours before Sam returned. Holt had been watching the clock and was aware the chief was cutting it close to get to her date.

  “And will you be shooting me this evening?”

  “It doesn’t appear I have any reason to,” Sam said with a wry smile as she removed Holt’s handcuffs.

  “That’s good, because the paperwork would probably keep you here all night, and you have a date tonight if my information is correct. I’m not going to keep you from that.”

  “How the hell do you know that?” Sam asked. She didn’t look amused.

  “My job is to know everything about a person so I can find them. My team is the best there is.”

  “I hear you are also pretty good at security and investigative jobs as well. How much background have you done on me? Don’t lie to me, Holt. Remember our deal.”

  “Just what I’ve told you and what you’ve seen. I needed to find you. You’re not my focus. I’ve told you what I’m interested in. Keeping the CMCs from messing with me or my family, that’s my focus. I’m willing to continue helping with the money laundering investigation, but only if it doesn’t put my family or my team at undue risk. I’m not sure that’s possible, but we can discuss it.”

  “All right, follow me. We’ve got our version of the situation room here. We can fill you in on what we have on the CMCs there. And you can tell me how you can help.”

  “In the interest of full disclosure, a member of the CMCs who claimed he was the leader intimated he had moles in your ranks. I’d like to keep this session small if we can. I almost lost a friend today.”

  Sam didn’t look pleased, but she nodded and led her down the hall. Holt followed Sam to the technology hub of the precinct. She got Max on the phone so she could be part of the briefing.

  Holt introduced Max and Dubs to Sam. She subtly warned them to behave themselves. She wasn’t sure the message got through.

  It took a few minutes for the LAPD techs to pull up the files Sam requested and get everything set up for the briefing. Holt could feel Max getting antsy. When one of the techs ran into a problem, Max clearly couldn’t handle it any more.

  “Chief, you’re going to be late for your date if we don’t get started. Can I get us going here?”

  “You guys are really worried about my social life,” Sam said. “Just how do you plan on getting us up and running from Rhode Island, Max? My guys say they’ll have it sorted out soon.”

  “Tell them to stop typing, H. Give me thirty seconds.”

  Holt indicated the techs should step away from the keyboards, and as promised, Max had everything they needed up on the screen almost instantaneously. She started running through the LAPD files and filling in the details from Holt’s team, briefing everyone before Sam interrupted her.

  “Did you just hack the LAPD? In thirty seconds?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Max said. “I invited myself in. Just in case there were any problems we needed to iron out. Good thing too. And it took me a little bit longer than thirty seconds.”

  “But probably not much,” Holt said.

  “Since you’re asking me to ignore a rather blatant crime, I don’t suppose you can use your magic skills to get my reservation changed to an hour later?” Sam said.

  “Of course,” Max said. “But why aren’t you taking her to that new place downtown? Do you not really like her?”

  “Listen, pipsqueak,” Sam said. “No one can get in there. Doesn’t matter if I was asking her to marry me tonight, it’s just not possible.”

  Holt hid her smile. Sam had accurately assessed Max in under five minutes without ever laying eyes on her. She liked her.

  “Well, now you’ve challenged me. Dinner for two, new place, one hour later than originally planned. Can we get to work so you don’t blow this one too, please?”

  Sam looked stunned. “You’ve got quite a team here, Holt.”

  “That I do,” Holt said. “None better. But you got off easy with Max. You didn’t have to talk to Dubs.”

  “Discourteous. I’m right here, boss.”

  “So, Sam, what can you tell us about the CMCs?” Holt asked.

  “Are you working this case as a liaison or a concerned citizen?” Sam asked. “We’ve got an open case with your name on it, but if you came here tonight to tell me I’ve got dirty cops, a new kind of gang problem, and to get as much information as possible before making me promises and leaving me holding my dick tomorrow…tell your hacker to get out of my computers and I’ll show you to the door.”

  Holt fought the urge to rock on her heels, something she did when she was uncomfortable. She did want information from Sam and didn’t know how much she was willing to promise her. Threading that needle without lying was tricky.

  “I’ve told you the conditions of my continued cooperation,” Holt said. “Nothing is more important to me than the safety of my family and team.”

  “I’m a public servant,” Sam said. “I can’t afford such luxuries. My city is in danger. I need to know if you can help.”

  Max started to protest Sam’s subtle dig, but Holt interrupted her. She was proud of the work she and her crew did. That was all that mattered.

  “Let’s share wha
t we know, Chief. Hopefully, we can make this work for both of us.”

  Sam inclined her head for Holt to go first. Holt filled her in on Kevin Garvey and what Lola had learned from her time with Malcolm. There were police reports for everything, but she tried to add details and observations that weren’t in the reports. Sam asked good questions. She was a sharp cop.

  “What we don’t know,” Holt said, “is very much about the CMCs, or if there’s someone pulling their strings. Someone who might not even be part of the gang.”

  “We started hearing about them about eighteen months ago,” Sam said. “It started as the usual chatter about a new gang flashing their colors. But these boys incorporated and went public at warp speed. They started gobbling up street corners and soldiers from other smaller gangs so rapidly we had trouble keeping up with the changing map.”

  “How did they convince others to join?” Dubs asked.

  “Violence mostly. Intimidation. This isn’t a nice group. Sounds like you’ve seen that firsthand,” Sam said.

  “Is the violence more than other groups?” Holt asked.

  “Almost everything about them is different from other gangs. They’re like a tech unicorn. Industry disruptors. It feels like they sprang onto the scene fully formed. We never saw any of the usual growing pains most of these groups go through as they grow. And their expansion seems deliberate, well thought out. I don’t know if that’s a sign of a new model or a behind-the-scenes player,” Sam said.

  “Do you know what their revenue source is?” Holt asked. It would be helpful if they could follow the money.

  “Another oddity. We have no idea. They’re well funded as you know. The usual suspects are all viable options, but their money is hidden much more securely than we’re used to. That’s one reason this money laundering case is so exciting around here. We’re hoping it can help us track back to the source of their funding.”

  Holt thought about the information Sam had provided. The CMCs could very well be the next iteration of street gang adapting to changing times. But she trusted Sam’s gut that they felt like a leap past what should be natural evolution. Coupled with what Malcolm had hinted at to Lola, Holt was becoming more and more convinced there were more players in this deadly game than they’d identified. The question was could she afford to stay in the game?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Since they arrived at the safe house, Quinn felt more secure. Maybe that’s why they called it a safe house. For her, it felt familiar, which was comforting. It had a refrigerator, couch, dining room table, recognizable things unaffiliated with violence or chaos. Not yet. If Lola hadn’t planted herself at the front door like an angry dragon guarding its gold she could have convinced herself everything was fine.

  Isabelle was helping too. Even though Quinn could tell she was worried about Holt and less than thrilled with the situation they were in, she was so calm. It was helping her keep her cool. They were both on the couch. From where she sat Quinn had a view straight down the hall to Lola. She could see how haggard she looked. The pain appeared to be catching up to her, but Lola had rebuffed her suggestion that she lie down earlier.

  “Lola said you’d be a good person to talk to about everything that’s happened,” Quinn said. “She said you’d have a good perspective on wrapping my head around it and figuring out how to make it okay.”

  Isabelle looked at her quizzically. “If she thinks I’m going to try and convince you of that, she’s an idiot,” Isabelle said. “Nothing about what’s happened to you recently is okay. It’s not okay for Lola either, but unfortunately, she has more experience with this sort of thing than I hope you do.”

  “I don’t think that was exactly what she meant. Maybe it’s my wishful thinking,” Quinn said. “Then I could stop feeling so out of control and terrified. How do you handle being on Holt’s team and being with her?” Quinn asked. She didn’t know if she could do what Isabelle did.

  “I’m not part of her crew, not really. I’m an accountant. I’ve integrated into her team doing forensic work, but it didn’t start out that way. I wait at the office, feeling helpless and out of control most of the time while she and the rest run headlong into danger. It almost kept us apart at the beginning. I couldn’t stand the idea of her job.”

  If Isabelle was an accountant, she wasn’t that different from Quinn. She dealt with data and regulations. If she was good at her job, she probably needed organization and didn’t like huge surprises.

  And she fell in love with Holt. “How did you get past the fear?” Quinn asked.

  “My situation was a little different,” Isabelle said. “When Holt and I met, I was in considerable danger, although I didn’t know it right away. I might not have liked what Holt did, but she was determined to keep me safe, even if it cost her life. She proved to me, over and over, through her actions, how good she was at her job, how hard she worked to keep everyone safe, how she didn’t take unnecessary risks. She broke that rule a few times to keep me safe, but never allowed anyone else to.”

  “But I wasn’t in danger until I met Lola,” Quinn said. “I really care about her. I wanted to see if there was some potential there, but this is a lot to deal with. I have grant deadlines I should be working toward, but I’m not sure I can ever go back into my lab again.”

  Isabelle gave her an understanding smile. “One thing I learned about Holt early on is that she’ll do anything for those she cares about. Or for people important to those she cares about. Lola is the same way. I know you’re scared. You have every right to be. I know your feelings about Lola are complicated. That makes sense. But Holt and Lola will keep you safe. Moose too. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Lola’s job usually isn’t this extreme. Holt tried telling me that when we first met and I didn’t believe her.”

  Quinn didn’t know why everyone was trying to convince her she was safe. What data could they point to? “Lola’s been shot in the head and beat to hell, and those are just the things I know about,” Quinn said. Her voice was rising, Lola would probably overhear, but she was getting angry again. “She can’t seem to keep herself safe. How can she make promises to me?”

  “Is everything okay?” Lola called out from her perch.

  “We’ll be fine,” Isabelle said, waving Lola back down.

  Quinn was pretty sure Lola wouldn’t leave her post to come down the hall and see what she was yelling about, but she might pace the small hallway for a while. As angry as she was, she was happy to see Lola sit back down. She was in no condition to pace.

  “Lola did get grazed by a bullet across her temple,” Isabelle said. “She took on two armed intruders, unarmed herself, after a third man broke into my home. She stood her ground to give me time to get to safety.”

  That sounds like what Lola did for Jessica. Doesn’t she have any regard for her own life? “Sounds like what she did for Jessica in the warehouse. Does she have a death wish?”

  Isabelle looked down the hall at Lola fondly. Quinn could tell she cared for her deeply.

  “No, I don’t think so. But she and Holt and a few of the others are so confident in their skills they’re always convinced they’re going to come out of just about anything. It’s infuriating.”

  Isabelle checked the time quickly, something she’d been doing regularly as they’d talked. Quinn figured she’d been tracking the time since Holt had split from the group.

  “Do you think Lola would mind if we joined her?” Quinn asked. Her feelings were still complicated, especially as they related to Lola, but she knew she felt better when she was close to her. With everything else so jumbled, she was willing to hold on to solid data points. That was one.

  Isabelle led the way back to the front room. “We’re joining you,” she said.

  “Absolutely not,” Lola said. She looked outraged at the thought.

  “We outnumber you,” Quinn said. “So you’re outvoted.”

  “And I’m pulling rank. I know you all call me ‘the Queen’ behind my back. I know
you don’t mean it as an insult, but a royal title should have some perks, right?” Isabelle pulled up a chair.

  Lola groaned. “This isn’t fair. I think Holt took the bad guys because she knew what I was in for. I’m demanding hazard pay. I knew you two would get along. Now you’re using it against me.”

  “If Holt knows what’s good for her, she’ll get her butt back here soon. I don’t like the idea of her out on the streets alone.”

  “And until she does, you’re going to look after me?” Lola asked.

  “I’ll let Quinn handle you,” Isabelle said. “You tough guys are all the same. You’ll run straight through a brick wall without flinching to protect the ones you love. But it’s up to us to protect you, even when you don’t think you need it.”

  Quinn remembered the first time she met Lola. Lola must have been thinking about it too. She leaned in close to Quinn and whispered, “I’m pretty good at letting you take the lead.”

  Heat radiated through her body at Lola’s words. It was an unexpected sensation given how she’d been feeling for hours. But Lola was still incredibly hot, terror or no terror.

  Lola tried sneaking a quick kiss, but Quinn moved back to her own space. She felt a little bad, but she wasn’t ready to pretend everything was back to normal.

  Just then, there was a noise at the front door only feet from where Lola had positioned herself. She stood and motioned Quinn and Isabelle farther back into the house. Quinn started to protest. She didn’t want to be a bystander in another act of violence, but Isabelle quieted her complaint and led her back to safety.

  What the hell were you going to do back there anyway? Let Lola handle the scary stuff.

  Although they could have hid in the bedrooms, neither she nor Isabelle made any move to do so. They’d gone over exit plans when they arrived, something Quinn hoped never to do again, but she couldn’t remember a word of them now. Quinn hadn’t actually seen Lola in action and was fascinated, in a watching-a-train-crash kind of way. Lola moved right up to the door and relaxed her body.