The Price of Cash

by Ashley Bartlett

“You too. Sorry for ruining your weekend as well.”

  He grinned. “Ms. Kent relishes ruining my weekends. At least this time I’m not in the office.”

  “Then you’re welcome.” There was something calming about normal conversation. Or maybe he was the second person I’d seen today who wasn’t treating me like a killer.

  “Eat your breakfast, Cash. Rory and I will review a few things before we let in the detectives,” Kent said. Rory pulled out a seat.

  I pulled the bag toward me. “Detective and agent.”

  “Excuse me?” Kent said.

  “The guy who let Rory in was an FBI Agent. Since half the boys died in Yolo and half died in Sac, the FBI is involved.” I looked inside the bag. Breakfast burrito. I unwrapped the foil.

  “But the angry detective is Sac PD, right?” Rory asked.

  “Tall and kind of muscled? Almost fat, but not quite yet. Mid forties. Looks like he just found out that he can’t use his penis and his whiteness in lieu of his badge to intimidate everyone?”

  Both lawyers leaned back a little. “That was a disturbingly accurate description,” Rory said.

  “Yeah, we’ve been getting up close and personal recently.” I took a bite of my breakfast. Breakfast burritos were my new favorite food.

  “How so?” Kent asked.

  I shrugged. “Last night he threw me against a truck. That was fun. Oh, and then he suggested that I was obstructing justice. Which is his favorite thing to accuse me of. Well, it was until manslaughter.” Another bite. There was a disgusting amount of cheese and peppers in this thing. It was beautiful.

  “Cash, at any point did you consider that I might need to know about a police detective assaulting you?” Kent asked it real slow.

  “I did point out my lack of sleep, right? I’m not firing on all cylinders here.” For good measure I took a healthy gulp of coffee.

  “Anything else potentially relevant?”

  “He suggested that Kallen and I have a sexual relationship and that she is helping me obstruct justice slash kill people. He made some vague accusations about Reyes too, but without the whole sexual exploitation thing, they just don’t have the same impact, you know?”

  Kent massaged her temple. Rory took furious notes.

  “Who else was present for Gibson’s assault and accusations?” Rory asked.

  “Kallen is the one who hauled Gibson off me. Reyes stopped Gibson from assaulting Kallen. Nate thought the whole thing was hilarious and helped no one. But Michelson is the one who forced Gibson to get under control. Duarte was there too, but that’s kind of like saying there was a puppy there. Cute, but no substance.”

  “Nate is Nathan Xiao, your associate, correct?” Rory asked. I nodded. “And Michelson is the FBI lead on the case?” I nodded again. “Is there any other information you have that might demonstrate Gibson’s inappropriate fixation on you?”

  I pressed my lips together. I really buried the lede here. “I filed a formal complaint against him a couple weeks ago.”

  Kent took a deep breath. “Why?”

  “I was brought in presumably to offer expertise on a case. He tried to bully me into answering a bunch of questions. I asked that either of my handlers or lawyer be present and he refused.”

  “Which case?”

  “This one.”

  “Anything else?”

  “He also suggested then that my relationship with both Kallen and Reyes was unprofessional.”

  The lawyers made some eye contact. Kent briefly read over the new notes. “Will you excuse us for a moment, Cash?”

  “Sure.” I ate my final bite of burrito.

  Kent stood first. Rory scribbled something new, then stood as well. Kent knocked on the door to be let out.

  Their moment lasted a lot longer than a moment. I finished my coffee, considered another nap, but I knew I’d never be able to get back to sleep. I wanted to know who the seventh victim was. Even if I didn’t know the kid, it was still a tragedy. I wanted to go track down that Aryan Brotherhood-looking fuckwad and drag his ass in.

  Twenty minutes later, the door opened. Michelson propped the door. “You’re free to go, Ms. Braddock.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Kent slid past Michelson. “You’re free to go. It sounds as though Agent Michelson wants to interview you about an operation last night, but he has agreed to wait until tomorrow.”

  I stood. “So I’m not being charged with manslaughter?”

  “Not at the moment, no.” Michelson handed me a manila envelope. “Your things.”

  I pulled out my cell phone and tried to turn it on. It was dead. That was probably good. It meant they hadn’t been able to read my messages as they came in. “I’d say thanks, but you guys are dicks.”

  Michelson shrugged. “Reyes is downstairs. He offered to give you a ride home.”

  “Come on. I’ll walk you out,” Kent said.

  I nodded and followed her. We didn’t speak until we had exited the lobby. “‘Thanks again for coming down.”

  “Of course.” She held out her hand. I shook it. “You might want to consider telling your handlers what you know. Otherwise, you’ll be looking at a legitimate obstruction charge.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “Braddock,” a voice called from the curb.

  I looked in the direction it had come from. Reyes was leaning against a Crown Vic and waving at me. I was grateful for the lift. I was. But I couldn’t help but think about the last ride I’d gotten post-arrest. Kallen had told me she loved me. She hadn’t actually said it, I guess. But that was where she was going. I wondered how I’d gotten Reyes this time. I wondered where Laurel was.

  “I’ll let you go. Good luck,” Kent said.

  “Thanks.” I headed for Reyes.

  “You need a ride?” Reyes asked.

  “Yeah, that would be nice.” I got in the passenger side.

  Reyes went around the car and got behind the wheel. He didn’t say anything until we were on Freeport Boulevard.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll survive.” I dug out my dead phone. “Do you have a charger in here?”

  He dug between the seats until he came up with a cable. “This should work.”

  “Thanks.” I plugged in the phone. It lit up.

  “You should probably call Nate. He’s worried about you.”

  “Yeah, I was supposed to pick him up at eleven.”

  “You’re a bit late,” Reyes said.

  “I know.” The phone started up. Half a dozen messages from Nate, two from Robin. I sent Robin a quick text to let her know I was okay. I called Nate.

  “What the fuck happened?” was how he answered the phone.

  “I was arrested for manslaughter.”

  “What?” he shouted.

  “And then apparently the charges were dropped. Or something.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “And someone else died,” I said.

  “Shit. Who? Do we know them?”

  “I don’t know. Just a sec.” I put the phone down. “Who died this morning?”

  Reyes tapped on the wheel while he debated. In the end, I apparently won. “Chaz Rapaport. You know him?”

  I felt relief. Then guilt for the relief. “No.” I lifted the phone back up. “Chaz Rapaport.”

  “Doesn’t sound familiar,” Nate said.

  “I’ll see if I can get a picture for you.”

  “Cool.”

  “So I think it’s time to tell them,” I said.

  He sighed. “Yeah, okay. But we should gloss over Mateo.”

  “Totally. So where are you?”

  “Outside Aryan Brotherhood’s house. When you didn’t show and didn’t call, I called Reyes. He told me you were unavailable so I just went for it myself.”

  “Do you want me to wait for you?”

  “No. Go ahead. Maybe one of them can take over this shit show when you’re done.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I hung up. “Nate and I have deci
ded to give you everything.” Well, that wasn’t true at all.

  Reyes nodded slowly. “Good.”

  “Are you available today? Like now-ish?”

  “Sure. Do you want to call Kallen?” Reyes turned onto my street.

  I didn’t really. But I couldn’t very well tell him that. I tapped Laurel’s name on my screen.

  “Hey, are you okay?” She almost sounded breathless.

  “I’ll live.”

  “I’m so sorry. I—We tried to stop it, but our hands were tied.”

  “It’s fine. I just need to wash these clothes twice and take a shower and I’ll be good.”

  She laughed briefly, stifled it. “Are you sure? I can come over.”

  Too late, I realized Reyes could probably hear. Which was fine. It was an innocent request.

  “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. Reyes and I are headed to my place. I need to tell you guys some stuff. Are you available?”

  “Of course.” Her tone shifted dramatically. “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you soon.” She hung up.

  “She’s on her way.” I looked up and realized we were parked in front of my house.

  “Cool,” Reyes said.

  “So this car.”

  He nodded. “I should park it a couple blocks away, right?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “It’s all good. I’ll just walk back. You’ve had too many cop cars hanging around.”

  “I’m going to jump in the shower. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

  Reyes nodded and I got out of the car. “Hey, Cash?”

  I leaned back down. “Yeah?”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “You kidding? I love erroneous early morning arrests. It’s right up there with ignorant people and strobe lights.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  When I got out of the shower, I could hear voices. I quickly got dressed. Reyes and Kallen were sitting on my couch. They’d helped themselves to beer, which didn’t upset me. Mostly because there was an unopened bag of food on the table that looked like it came from Burgers and Brew. Laurel saw me standing in the hallway and jumped up. It seemed involuntary.

  “I brought lunch,” she said as if it was a reason to stand so suddenly.

  “I see.”

  “Lucas said we weren’t waiting for Nate.” She went into the kitchen and started unpacking the food.

  “Yeah, he’s on a stakeout.”

  Laurel stopped unpacking and came out of the kitchen to stare at me. Reyes looked up from his phone.

  “A stakeout?” Reyes asked.

  “For you guys.”

  “Thanks?” Laurel said.

  “It’s your perp.” They both nodded like they were following, but they weren’t following. “In fact, he would probably appreciate some help. We should get moving.”

  Laurel shook her head and went back in the kitchen. Reyes followed her. I let them distribute food while I set up the appropriate video. That was probably the best starting point.

  I was still skipping through the video when they came back. Laurel handed me a sweating beer. Reyes set a plate on the coffee table for me.

  “Okay. What the hell is going on?” Laurel asked.

  “We got a tip that someone was making pills in a lab at UC Davis.” I blew right past Mateo’s involvement. That was good. “There’s really only one lab with the right equipment, so Nate and I installed cameras one night.”

  They exchanged a look. “You know that won’t be admissible in court,” Laurel said.

  “Yes, but that’s your problem, not mine.”

  Reyes grinned. “So what did you find?”

  “This.” I sat next to them on the couch and hit play. At normal speed, the video of Aryan took a long time. I fast forwarded through the slow parts. I knew they would end up taking the video and watching it on repeat until they caught the bastard. Even with fast forwarding, I managed to finish my burger and fries and move on to Laurel’s fries before it was over.

  “We need to ID this guy,” Reyes said to Laurel.

  She nodded and turned to me. “We tried with the images you gave us before, but we couldn’t find anything.”

  “Here’s his address and license plate. That will help.” I handed a slip of paper to Laurel. She scanned it rapidly, then showed it to Reyes. He read it and nodded. She pocketed it.

  “How did you find this?” she asked.

  “We watched the building at four a.m. until Aryan Nations showed, then followed him home. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  “Is that where you were this morning before Michelson and Gibson arrested you?” Reyes asked.

  “Yeah. This video is from Wednesday morning. With today, that adds Sunday morning. Still no idea if that’s a standing engagement or if it’s random.”

  “What time did you start watching the building?”

  I shrugged. “Just after three.” They exchanged a look. “Jesus Christ. Just ask what you want to ask.”

  Reyes looked sheepish. “Can you account for your whereabouts after leaving the party last night?”

  “I went home and showered. That adhesive was a bitch to wash off, by the way,” I said to Laurel. “I read for about an hour. Then I left around two a.m. Stopped at Safeway for snacks because Nate only brings candy on stakeouts. Picked up Nate, drove to UC Davis.”

  “So we can’t prove where you were at all?” Reyes asked.

  “We can probably account for the grocery store trip,” Laurel said.

  “What the hell do you think I was doing?”

  They exchanged another look. “I think you were doing exactly what you said. I just want to account for as many of your movements as possible,” Reyes said.

  So we were opting for lying. That was cool. “Aside from the grocery store, I can’t really prove much.”

  “That’s fine. It’s not a big deal.” Laurel was reassuring one of us, but I wasn’t sure who.

  “Okay.” Reyes motioned between himself and Laurel. “One of us needs to go to the station and get a name for…Aryan Nations?” he asked me. I grinned and nodded. “Remind me not to say that in front of Ionescu.”

  “We also call him Aryan Brotherhood,” I said.

  Laurel shook her head, but she was smiling. “Yeah, no one is allowed to call him either of those names.”

  “Cops are very sensitive to the whole white supremacist thing,” I whispered to Reyes.

  “White people are very sensitive to the whole white supremacist thing,” he whispered back.

  I nodded emphatically. Laurel cleared her throat.

  “You also said Nate needs someone to help him out?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Another body would probably be helpful. And if you guys want to continue this stakeout business, we should work out a schedule or something,” I said.

  “Is there anything else we need to do?”

  I shrugged. “Not really. Nate probably wants some food. We should bring him some. I need a nap, but last time Reyes told me a bedtime story, I woke up with a pedicure. It was weird.”

  Reyes started laughing.

  “Okay, what is with the pedicure thing?” Laurel asked. We just shook our heads at her. She rolled her eyes and gave up. “Whatever.”

  “All right. I’ll bring Nate a sandwich and follow the Brotherhood around. You go to the station.” Reyes nodded at Laurel. “You take a nap so that you can take over the stalking in a few hours.”

  “Works for me.” I loved naps.

  “Yeah, sounds good,” Laurel said.

  I collected the remains of our lunch. Reyes collected bottles and followed me into the kitchen.

  “You need help?” he asked.

  “No. Get out of here. Keep us updated.”

  “Will do.” Reyes took off.

  Laurel picked up the bottles Reyes had set on the counter and started rinsing them to put in recycling. “So you sure you’re okay? After this morning, I mean.”

&nb
sp; “Yeah. I’m irritated, but I’m not worried.” I tossed out the Styrofoam containers stacked on the table. “How many bullshit charges can he try to throw at me?”

  Laurel watched the water run into the bottle she was holding. She slowly turned off the faucet and poured out the bottle. “I don’t know.” She sound distracted.

  “Laurel.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why are you being weird?”

  She set down the bottle and turned around. “I’m trying to figure all this out. Last night, another kid died. Did you hear that?”

  “I was charged with his death, so yeah.”

  “Right. Well, he collapsed at a party. His friends debated getting him help for a while before someone else finally called an ambulance. Allegedly, he bought the pills at the party.”

  “Kids are assholes.” I sat at the table. “I’ll never understand that logic. If your friend collapses, why would you hesitate to get help?”

  “It baffles me too.”

  “So did you interview his friends?”

  She sat across from me, settled into her narrative. “Some of them. One of the EMTs was on the call that brought Blake Welter in. He made the connection in time for us to round up people at the party.”

  “That’s good, right? Did you get anything?”

  Laurel grimaced and shrugged. “The most common description of the dealer was a Caucasian woman with short hair. About five eight, hundred and twenty-five pounds. Some of the partygoers claimed there was a tall, slim guy working with her.”

  With each piece of evidence, my heart rate climbed. She was describing me. “Fuck.”

  “There were some conflicting reports.” Her voice went up like she was trying to be upbeat.

  “Oh, yeah?” I tried to match her tone. It didn’t work out.

  “Some people said that the woman was blond. Some said that she was wearing a low-cut top with a whole lot of cleavage. No one mentioned that the guy was Asian. Just that he was handsome.”

  I grinned. That didn’t sound like me and Nate. “That’s good, right?”

  “In my opinion, yes.”

  “But your opinion isn’t the one that matters here.”

  “No. The current theory is that you could very easily put on feminine clothing and match the description,” she said.

  “But I don’t have boobs. I mean, not like that.”