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Sergeant Seivers must have been hot with rage at being interrupted. She said, “Tell me about it, Garcia. I haven’t heard you give a coherent report in months.”

“We’ve staked out Pino’s and we’re about to shut it down.”

“How is Judge Winters’s case connected to this? How about that vic on the freeway, Singleton? Tell me what is going on.”

“We’ve been on the Pino case for a while, and all of this is linked to them.” Garcia raised his voice. “Why? You think since I’m a Mexican, I must be dirty? I’m the one who can’t be trusted? Even after the Marcos bust?”

“Something is going on and I don’t like it. The department needs your reports on these investigations. If we don’t receive them, we’ll take your badge and turn you over to IA.”

“We’ll close the case tonight if we have to.” He hung up.

I knew that whatever Garcia was going to do to close his case wasn’t going to be good for me.

Angie looked at me and put on her glasses, her hand working her mouse on the computer.

I watched the images popping up on her screen in the reflection off her lenses.

“These were last night?” She kept scrolling. “I’ll call Garcia back to the precinct.”

“He’s never coming back to this precinct,” I said. “He’s either going to jail or he’s going to die.”

“Either way, Rita, you need to stay out of this.” Angie stood. “You stay right here.” She pointed at me. “For your own safety.”

Erma laughed. “Yeah, lady. Whatever you say.”

Angie exited her office, heading toward the crime lab. When she was out of sight, I walked right out of the precinct and called a cab, Erma’s ghost at my heels.





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

f/16

THE MORNING TRAFFIC in downtown Albuquerque was stifling. I directed the cab through a few alleys, dodging trash bins and the occasional residents of cardboard houses.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to see the big picture.” Erma sat propped up in between the front seats. “All this time it was the cop.”

“You didn’t know Garcia?” I doubted this, remembering what Armenta had to say about her involvement. “You were moving drugs right alongside Matias. You can’t tell me you didn’t know what was going on.”

“Matias was helping me and my daughter make a life for ourselves.”

“I don’t believe that, Erma.”

The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror suspiciously, wondering who I was talking to. I put my earbuds in to quell the staring.

“Matty was on his way out of the business.” Erma’s voice cracked. “He told me about Pino’s and about what they did, but he also told me it was being shut down because there was too much attention. Some of their connections were turning on each other. He never told me their connection was a cop.”

“Erma, you told me that someone came to see you. Do you remember who it was?”

Erma sat next to me now, her white eyes staring out the window. “It was Cedric from Pino’s. They were so angry when Matty got popped. It was the end of their partnership.”

My phone buzzed. Mrs. Santillanes. My heartbeat accelerated with fear.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Santillanes?” The cab turned up toward Central Avenue.

“Mija, your grandma is here with her friend. They just saw your apartment and they’re scared—”

Grandma was on a phone before she could finish her sentence. “We couldn’t stay away, Rita.” I could hear Mr. Bitsilly singing in the background. “We just saw your apartment. What is going on, Rita?” I hadn’t heard that terrified tone in my grandma’s voice in years.

“I’m on my way, Grandma. Stay in Mrs. Santillanes’s apartment until I get there.”

When we finally rounded the corner to my apartment, I saw Grandma’s old pickup sitting in the handicap space. One thing I didn’t see: Garcia’s unit.

“We don’t have time to stop, Rita.” Erma pounded on the seat. “We have to find what they’re looking for. You have to help me find it.”

“I have my own crisis. I have an extremely unfriendly cop looking for me, and my grandma is next door to the first place he will look.”

The cab driver stared at me like I was crazy. I handed him some money, then ran up my steps as fast as I could.

“There you are.” Mrs. Santillanes pulled me inside her apartment.

Grandma hugged me tight. “We thought something had happened to you.”

“Look at you, Rita; you look terrible.” Mr. Bitsilly walked up to me, staring straight into my eyes, then grasped my shoulders. “You just couldn’t stay away from it.” He shook his head and hugged me just as hard as Grandma. “We should have brought you home.”

“Thank you for helping them,” I said to Mrs. Santillanes.

She glanced at the three of us and pressed her finger to her lips. “Shhhh,” she said as she peeked out the peephole. She moved to the side just in time for me to see two officers make their way up the stairs and look through my splintered door.

“They must have seen you.” Mrs. Santillanes placed her fingers on her lips again. “Those two have been waiting for you to come back all day.” She walked us into her kitchen and put the kettle on the fire. “Rita, it wasn’t safe to come back here.”