“Actually, Sean, your name has come up in connection with the case,” he said once he swallowed the angry retort that wanted to wriggle through his teeth.
Sean laughed. “You’re joking.”
“No.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Merlo,” Sean said. His voice dropped to a rough growl. “You look like you’d be fun for a couple of nights, and far be it from me to let a bad decision pass me by, but you’re not worth jail time. I had plenty of opportunities to commit a felony when I was with Plenty PD, and they would have paid better.”
Javi grimaced. “I’m sure your client appreciates this insight into your practice.”
“Please, my client appreciates a dick that goes that extra mile,” Sean said. The smirk managed to be audible in his voice. “So do the men Idotake to bed. In case you ever get tired of Witte.”
Javi squelched the brief flash of temptation before his brain could justify it. Even if he didn’t care about Cloister, Sean would be a bad mistake.
“We need to speak to you,” he said. “Can you come down to the station?”
“I’m in LA right now,” Sean said after a pause. The rasp of sex dropped from his voice as he realized Javi was serious. “I have court tomorrow, to testify in a stalking case. Unless you want to arrest me, you’ll have to wait until Wednesday.”
“What time?” Javi asked coolly.
“I’ll let you know. Give your deputy my best.”
He hung up.
Javi lowered the phone from his ear and rolled his head from one side to the other. His vertebrae grated with tension, but he took a deep breath and made his second call.
“Inspector Yuen,” he said briskly, “I was wondering if you could help on a case I’m working on. We believe the victim spent some time in a hospital in Tijuana. I can send you all her details—”
“This doesn’t sound like it’s connected to the cartels.”
“Call it cross-agency cooperation.”
Yuen snorted. “Send me the information. I’ll get someone on it. You owe me, Agent Merlo.”
“Within reason,” Javi agreed. Then he hung up.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“DID YOUmake this with a pot?” Mrs. Lopez asked as she took the cup from Cloister. Instead of waiting for an answer, she took a sip of the tea and wrinkled her slightly too-narrow-for-nature nose. “Forget I asked.”
Cloister shrugged. There was a pot in the kitchen somewhere, a camping kettle that lived in the back of the cupboard with the old cartons of flower teas. It was dented, stained nicotine brown on the inside from years of tannin, and no one remembered who’d brought it in, so it was probably a relic of the old police department. He didn’t think the tea would taste any better in that.
“SSA Merlo will be here any minute, Mrs. Lopez,” he promised as he lowered himself carefully into the metal chair. “If you do need someone to pick up your children, we could arrange a patrol car to take your housekeeper to their school?”
Mrs. Lopez rolled her eyes. “They’re teenagers. They have after-school activities,” she said impatiently as she stood up. “It’s like four hours before they’ll even think about going home. Besides, they have phones, and I have an Uber account. I just don’t want to be here.”
She turned away from him and started to pace. Her heels clicked pointedly on the old linoleum that lined the room. As she reached the door, she paused and glanced over at Cloister through her hair.
“They’re my stepchildren,” she said. “My husband’s boys. They still live with me, but obviously they’re not mine. I wasn’t a child bride.”
“I wasn’t judging,” Cloister said. “I grew up in the country. I walked home from school when I was eight.”
Tragedy had already struck his family. His mother felt it was like an inoculation—someone had snatched his brother, so their family was safe. That was what Cloister told himself, anyway. But after she had his half brother, she drove him to school and home again. So maybe she just didn’t care what happened to Cloister.
He tried to ignore the maudlin turn of his thoughts as he watched Mrs. Lopez make another circuit of the room. She finally heaved a sigh and sat down opposite him. Despite her flighty airs, her pale-gray eyes were sharp as she looked him over.
“So,” she said. She took a drink of tea, and her lipstick left a bright smudge on the cup. She set it down on the table and arched her eyebrows. “Who’s Lara?”
Cloister narrowed his eyes. She chuckled and pointed at his cast.
