The Second Girl(12)
Disposing of Andrés is a necessity. It keeps whoever these boys owe for what I took away from me, because my name will probably be included in that discovery package. After all, I did rescue the girl, as unintentional as that was.
I hop in my car. I power on the cell. I know all too well the number of missed calls from Leslie and Lord knows who else that’ll pop up on the screen.
Eight.
Not as bad as I thought. Seven of them from Leslie and one a number that belongs to DC police; I recognize the prefix.
I call Leslie.
She picks up after the first ring. “What the f*ck, Frankie!”
“I’ve got the information you need.”
“The police are still here. Fairfax County is sending a couple of their detectives and the girl’s parents should be here any second, so where in the hell are you?”
“Tell me when you’re ready to copy.”
“Whatever information you have related to this poor girl here you need to give directly to the police, not me.”
“Who are the DC detectives there?”
“I don’t know. They’re Youth Division, and I stay away from juvenile cases.”
“Let me talk to the detective who looks like he’s got the most time on.”
“Frankie,” she says, and I can only imagine how she looks when she says it, “you really put me in a situation here. Hold the line.” Instead of being put on hold, I hear what sounds like the phone receiver hit a desk.
Seconds later: “Detective Davidson here.”
I know Davidson. He’s good people. A f*cking hard worker.
“What’s up, Scott? This is Frank Marr.”
“Yeah, I know. Your new boss told me.”
“She ain’t my boss. I do some work for her on the side, ’cause forty percent doesn’t cut it.”
“This one of the cases you did on the side?”
“Not for her, no.”
“You need to come in, Frank, so we can talk and get whatever information you have.”
“I can do that, but not for a couple hours. I’m outta the DC area right now.” And before he can answer I say, “Tell me when you’re ready to copy what I have.”
“Hold on.” A bit of shuffling, then, “Go ahead.”
I give him the address on Kenyon along with the vehicle info.
“I was there not even forty minutes ago,” I say, while looking at the car, but I don’t mention seeing the car. “The house was unoccupied when I was there. Wouldn’t be surprised if you find some drugs in there, too, at least according to a reliable source I have.”
I made sure they will, because I left the crack and the heroin under the bed. Those drugs are useless to me. Don’t want anything to do with that shit. Good blow, some weed, and a few pills are what I care about most. I don’t go and try to make money off this shit.
I also straightened things up a bit so it wouldn’t look like there was a struggle, and I left a little bonus—the .38 I put back in the nightstand’s drawer. I’m sure it’ll be traced back to a shooting or two.
“You might want to get Luna and McGuire in on the hit with you. I’m sure they’ll take the narcotics off your hands, unless it’s something you want to handle.”
“What the heck kinda case you working there, Frank?”
“You know I can’t talk about that, Scott. Needless to say, it got that girl the hell outta there, right?”
“Yeah, amen to that, brother, but we still need to talk. And I mean soon.”
“Understood. You need to act on this right away, though. Get a couple of unmarked units on the house. Oh, I almost forgot. I also have information they might be armed.”
“You have any names for me?”
“Just one. Angelo. His crew works selling their shit in the area of Sixteenth and Park.”
“I’ll get on this right away. You call me first thing when you get back, all right?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“You still have my cell?”
“Of course I do.”
“Frank, seriously, I need you to call me ASAP, right when you get back. I don’t know what you were thinking, because you went about this all wrong. I mean, you should know better, brother.”
“Yeah, I can’t argue with you but I didn’t have a choice at the time. I’ll explain what I can when I get back. Don’t worry yourself.”
“I’m not worried, but you’ll have to if you don’t call me.”
“Don’t start with that kinda talk now. You know better.”
“You need to talk to your boss again?”
“No, not at the moment.”
“I’ll talk to you soon, then.”
“Later,” I say, and disconnect.
I pull the car out and head north, the opposite direction from where the unmarked units should be coming.
Ten
I bought the two-story connected row house on 12th Street Northwest back when a working cop could afford to buy in DC. I had finished my probationary period and figured the minimal investment was worth the risk. It was a fixer-upper in an area that wasn’t quite up-and-coming yet. I gutted most of it. It took several years because I was on the job then and working my ass off.