James Grippando - Last Call

"What's with the knife symbol?"

"It's actually a KA-BAR – a military fighting knife made especially for close-combat killing. This is who they are: extremely violent, heavy drug traffickers who would kill you as soon as look at you. They're trying to align themselves with the big leagues – Folk Nation out of Chicago or Crips in L.A."

"So this is a good lead?"

She drank more wine. "Just because we have a red car with a recognizable gang symbol doesn't mean we can peg the shooter.

"Find the car and haul in the owner for questioning."

"I definitely will. But it's not easy to get someone to testify against a gang as ruthless as O-Town Posse, and the owner of this vehicle knows that. He won't crack just because I ask him tough questions."

The waiter brought their churrasco. It was done to perfection, medium rare, and the chimichurri sauce wasn't too oily. "What if I can get the witness to talk? Will you protect him?"

"Did he see the triggerman?"

"No."

Andie finished her wine. Jack poured her more. She said, "I can't sell the bureau on protecting a witness who doesn't know enough to get an arrest, let alone a conviction. I already have my hands full trying to justify protection for Theo."

"He's helping you figure out who helped Isaac Reems escape and who shot him. It's not like he's getting something for nothing.

"But we cut Theo's deal on the assumption that the same guy who shot Isaac Reems also tried to shoot Theo. The more we learn about Theo's shooting, the less it resembles Isaac's."

"You don't need the exact same MO for two shootings to be related."

"No, but now that we know Theo was shot by a gang, the state attorney is going to say, hey, maybe this had nothing to do with Reems. Maybe it was even random. Because the Reems case is looking more and more like a professional hit."

"Gangs do hits," said Jack. "And if somebody wanted to eliminate both Isaac and Theo, what better way to confuse the investigators than to make one of the killings look like a drive-by shooting by a gang like O-Town Posse?"

"But all we have is a theory Your theory. Honestly it's not entirely adding up for me."

"Why not?"

"There are a zillion holes."

"A zillion?"

"Yes."

"You counted them?"

"Stop being such a literal lawyer. I meant there are a lot."

"Let's hear them."

"I can't name them all."

"You can't name any."

"I can name plenty."

"Plenty? Help me with my math. Is that more or less than a zillion?"

Jack didn't enjoy getting under her skin, but when she wore her FBI hat, that was the only way to make her talk.

She swallowed more wine. "All right, explain this to me. Every arm of law enforcement was out looking for Isaac Reems and couldn't find him. But the killer was able to hone right in on him. I'm curious as to how that works under your theory. How did the shooter know to go to the restaurant that used to be Homeboy's? How did he know exactly when Isaac Reems was going to be there? How did he get such a clear shot at Isaac? Why did Isaac call out Theo's name before he was shot? Why would-"

"What did you just say?"

Andie froze. She'd obviously shared something she shouldn't have. "Forget what I said."

"No way."

"Jack, be professional about this."

"I am being professional. I heard what I heard."

"All right, fine. Now you understand why I'm having difficulty buying your version of events"

He also understood that the only way to change her views was to tell her about Isaac's phone calls to Theo. Only then would she understand how the killer – by tapping Theo's phone line – had heard Isaac tell Theo to meet him behind the old Homeboy's at 1:00 a.m. Problem was, those calls could also prove that Theo knew where Isaac was going to be.

"I could fill those holes for you," said Jack, "but I need to protect Theo from any possibility of being charged with Isaac's murder."

"What are you asking me to do?"

"Look at the evidence I'm willing to share with no one else but you. See if it convinces you that whoever killed Theo's mother also killed Isaac – and then tried to kill Theo."

"What if it doesn't convince me?"

"I'll forget that you slipped and told me that Reems called out Theo's name before he was shot. And then you'll show me that you can keep your word."

"Meaning what?"

"Somewhere down the line, if the state attorney ends up charging Theo with Isaac Reems's murder, you can't share this evidence with the prosecution."

"You want me to get amnesia?"

"I want you to make a deal, and I want you to stick to it."

She shifted in her seat, her posture more relaxed, and took another drink of wine. "Let me ask you something. I'm curious. What if we were dating?"

Jack coughed. "What?"

"Assume you hadn't decided that I was anti-Theo and we were now several months into a real relationship. Say I had a slip of the tongue and confidential information about a case popped out of my mouth. Would you be busting my chops like this?"

Jack considered it. "I don't know. That's very hypothetical."

"Very" she said.

"Hypothetical always make me nervous."

She leaned closer, elbows on the table. "No, Jack. It's reality that makes you nervous."

Their eyes met, and her gaze was so penetrating that she seemed to be searching inside him for his response. He had none.

"So, do we have a deal?" he said.

She rose slowly, confidently, his concession of the point having apparently granted her satisfaction – at least for the moment. "I'll think about it. And then maybe I'll give you a call."

She turned and exited through the minimart. Jack drank his wine and watched as he let reality walk away from him. Again.

Theo needed to buy a guard.

It was a pretty safe bet that an insider had helped Isaac Reems escape. Somebody – namely, a guard – had looked the other way when Isaac climbed out of a second-story window and lowered himself to the yard with a rope made from bedsheets. Part of Theo's "protection" arrangement with Andie Henning and the FBI was to work undercover and find the insider. Theo would honor the deal, but finding a corrupt corrections officer wasn't his main objective. He was more interested in finding out who had killed his mother, who had put a bullet in Isaac's head, and – most important – who had taken a shot at him. He'd be that much closer to answering those questions if he could figure out who had bribed the guard to spring Isaac loose. To do that, he first needed to learn which guards were for sale.

"Your buddy Isaac didn't get too far, did he?"

Theo was alone in his cell when he heard the guard's voice. He turned and saw MacDonald standing in the open doorway. They called him Old MacDonald, because he was the youngest guard on the cell block. He'd been a high-school football star, and he still carried himself with the cockiness of a teenage jock. He was showing signs of going soft around the middle, but his arms and shoulders were enormous. Save for the slight limp from a career-ending knee injury, he looked like he could have gone on to play college ball. Instead, he was a prison guard.

"Say what, dude?" said Theo.

MacDonald stepped inside, serious attitude in his swagger. He stopped about a foot away from Theo, getting right in his face. "None of this 'Say-what-dude' disrespect. Its 'Excuse me, sir"'

Theo was expressionless. "Say what, dude?"

The stare-down lasted a moment longer, and then MacDonald backed away. He checked the stack of magazines on Theo's bunk, the photograph of Trina taped to the wall. "Who's this?"

In prison, personal information was power, and Theo knew better than to give it out freely. "My grandmother."

"Pretty hot granny."