I’m too late.
“No, wait,” I gasp, swinging my bag onto the table. Today’s paper and Mina’s files spill out across the laminated wood.
The grunts pause, staring at me like I’m crazy.
“You have to stop.” I motion to the board and the boxes. “I have new evidence.”
“Ramos?” Burgess says, standing in the doorway. “What’s going on?”
“I have a break in the case.”
“This case? It’s over.”
“Where’s Bonds?” I look around, desperate for a bit of luck. Bonds will listen to me.
“He and Cuccinelli closed the case. They did a debrief for all of us first thing. Didn’t you read the paper?” Burgess picks it up and shakes it at me as if I missed the giant headline.
“That’s just it. They got it wrong.”
Everyone stares at me. I’ve committed a mortal sin, naysaying the lead detectives about a closed case. Heat crawls up my chest, sending spikes of flame to my cheeks. I sound like an idiot, but I hold my ground. Because when cops go after the convenient suspects, the real criminals walk free.
I hold out my hands, appealing to Burgess, to anyone. “I can explain?—”
“Okay, come on.” Burgess motions me out of the room. The grunts have already gone back to cleaning up the evidence board. They’re not going to listen to me, but Burgess is willing, so I grab the scattered papers and follow him into the smaller room, where I reviewed the footage for hours.
“All right, Ramos. What’s this about?”
“I read the paper. Martin wasn’t murdered by a gang. Neither were the other two.”
“Evidence says otherwise.”
“That evidence was planted,” I almost shout. “That burner phone?—”
“It was in the safe this whole time.”
“Because he put it there.”
“Who?”
“The real murderer.” I don’t know how Rex did it, but I’d bet money that he made sure the burner phone was placed in the safe for Bonds and Cuccinelli to find. Rex owns tech companies. It would be easy for him to forge a text conversation between two burner phones and change the time stamps to frame whoever he wants.
“Look.” Burgess takes on a fatherly tone. “I know you want to prove yourself and see this thing through. But the case came together overnight. Sometimes it works like that.”
“This doesn’t make sense.” I’m grasping for the threads of logic I intend to weave together. I thought I’d have more time. “Suddenly, all these cases are tied together? Martin has ties to this gang?”
“Yeah, turns out he was no saint.” Burgess flips the newspaper over and slaps the picture of Iona Stipanov. “Martin. If you ask me, he got what he deserved.”
I’ve never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it.Rex told me. And he’s tried Martin in the court of public opinion. Now that Martin’s sins are revealed, everyone’s willing to believe his murder was just.
“And the gang members? Why would they murder two of their own?”
“They’re gang bangers. Killing is what they do.”
“Then why did they leave Daniels on my doorstep?”
Burgess shrugs. “Some weird gang ritual. They were making a statement about cops getting involved in their business. Or maybe it was an apology. Who the fuck knows? Do meth heads need a reason to do crazy shit?”
“It doesn’t make sense.” I clutch Mina’s files to my chest. I haven’t brought them up, not yet. They’re too precious to waste on Burgess. “I need to talk to Bonds.”
