Radclyffe - Sheltering Dunes

A lot of maybes.

So she waited. She figured they’d take at least an hour, maybe two to soften her up, wait until she was anxious, hungry, and thirsty. Maybe wait until her nerves had her bladder on edge and then force her to talk while she was worried she might disgrace herself.

A sharp knock came on the door and Allie walked back in with someone new. Another rangy, dark-haired stud, this one tougher around the edges than the one Allie had been with before—carved cheekbones, blocky jawline, intense sea-blue eyes. Cop’s eyes. Harder, more experienced than the ones she’d been looking into recently.

“This is Detective Mitchell,” Allie said. “She’s got a story for you.”

Mitchell pulled out a chair opposite Mica, and Allie took up a post by the door.

So they hadn’t made her wait, and now this new one was going to take the lead. Huh. She would’ve figured Allie to be the one in charge. Maybe this was her boss.

“I’m from Philadelphia,” Mitchell said. “I wanted to talk to you about Hector.”

“Hector who? Lots of dudes named Hector.”

Mitchell smiled. “I guess that’s true. But I think we both know who we’re talking about. And since I’m not here to run any games on you, I’ll lay it out.”

And she did. Mitchell told her how they’d been watching Hector and his crew and her. She showed her a picture of her with Hector and a couple of his lieutenants. Mitchell said they knew about Hector’s jobs, and they knew she was Hector’s girl, and Hector’s girl had to know what Hector was doing. They didn’t want her, Mitchell said, they wanted Hector. They wanted her to help them get him.

“If you know so much,” Mica said, staring at a stain on the ceiling over Mitchell’s head that looked a little like roadkill, “why don’t you just go get him.”

“I think you know the answer, but I’ll tell you anyway. Like I said, no games. We know these things, but we don’t have the evidence. What we need is someone like you, and a couple of others, to talk.”

“To turn, you mean.” Mica snorted and shook her head. “What you want is to get a couple of us killed. If you know so much, you know what happens when someone talks about MS-13. Sooner or later, a week, a month, five years, they end up dead.”

“We know. We know that’s why you’re running. You want out. We can help you.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you plan to do that?”

“You help us with information on Hector—how the gang is structured, who his lieutenants are, who his contacts in other organizations are, who might be willing to talk if the money is right. You do that and we’ll get you a new identity.”

“A new identity?”

“WITSEC—the witness protection program. We’ll relocate you, get you a job, get you twenty-four-hour protection for the rest of your life.”

“And where do you plan to put me? Kansas? Someplace where I’ll live in a box wondering when he’ll track me down, answering to some cop instead of Hector? How is that any different? At least with La Mara, I’m free.”

Allie said softly, “Are you? Then why are you here?”

“I’m here because I choose to be here.”

“You’re here because you’re running for your life,” Allie said. “Let us help you.”

“You’ll help me right into the ground. No deal.” Mica shook her head. She’d never live to make it into WITSEC, and if she did, she’d never see Flynn again. Never be able to set things right, if Flynn would even talk to her.

“We will get the evidence on Hector,” Mitchell said, “and when we do, you’ll go down with him. We’ll charge you as an accessory. You don’t want that to happen. I don’t think you’re guilty.”

“If you wanted to arrest me, you would’ve done it already.” Mica called their bluff, but she believed the detective. Hector had a world of hurt coming his way and didn’t know it yet.

“Look,” Mitchell said, “there may be a way to work this so you don’t have to testify. So Hector doesn’t know where the information is coming from.”

“How?”

“Help us get the guy who’s after you. If we arrest him, with enough evidence to put him away, he’s going to be in the same situation you are. He’ll know if he goes to jail he’s a liability and Hector will kill him. My guess is he’ll turn if we offer him protection. And if he’s one of Hector’s lieutenants, he’s got to know what we need to know.”

“And what do I get out of this?”

Mitchell looked her right in the eye. “You get freedom. You walk away.”

“And if you don’t get Hector, he’ll know it was me.”

“How is that any different than where you are now?” Allie said. “At least this way, you have a shot at getting Hector out of the picture. With him gone and someone else in his place, you’re not going to be so important anymore. At least you won’t be at the top of their list.”

Mica thought about it. She’d been gone too long now. Even if she wanted to go back, Hector wouldn’t be able to let her, not and still save face. He was going to kill her; there was no going back. What they offered was a slim possibility, but it was more than she had right now. “How would it work?”

Mitchell sat forward. “We wire you, we’d watch you, we’re pretty sure they know where you are now. These attacks are evidence of that. It won’t take very long for them to make another move because they’ll expect you to run exactly as you planned on doing. I’ll be with you twenty-four seven. We’ll pick up whoever comes after you, squeeze him, and you’re out of it. We’ll have enough evidence from the attack on you to arrest him and charge him. Once that happens, he’ll have a big target on his back and he’ll know it.”

“And I get immunity? Whatever Hector says about me, no accessory charges?”

“That’s right. You’re out of it.”

“And if I say no?”

Mitchell shrugged. “Then we let a few people know that you helped us anyway.”

Mica thought she saw Allie stiffen, as if she didn’t like what Mitchell said. She didn’t think Mitchell was bluffing this time. If Hector or any of his lieutenants thought she’d talked, they’d never stop coming for her, whether Hector was in charge or not. “It doesn’t bother you to sign my death warrant?”

“Not a bit,” Mitchell said.

*

Dell closed the door to the interrogation room, leaving Mia Gonzales inside, and followed Allie down the hall to Reese Conlon’s office. Bri Parker and Conlon waited inside, Parker in her usual position against the wall and Conlon behind her desk. A video console showing a blank blue screen sat on a triangular platform bolted into one corner of the small room. Conlon and Parker had probably been watching the interview. She sat in the same chair she’d been in that morning, next to Allie, in front of Conlon’s desk.

“Nice interview,” Conlon said.

“Thanks,” Dell said.

“Pretty rough on her there at the end,” Parker said.

“La Mara members are used to being interrogated. It’s a rite of passage for them to be picked up. I wanted to win her over, but she’d never believe me if I went easy on her. She’s going to know if we’re selling her a line of goods.”

“Are you planning on leaking word that she helped us if she doesn’t agree?” Conlon asked.

“That would be up to you and the lieutenant.”

“And if it were your call?” Conlon asked quietly.

“Yes, I would,” Dell said instantly. “Mia Gonzales may be innocent of any crime—technically. But she’s been part of La Mara for years. They’ll come after her no matter what we do. We need to make something happen before she disappears. And she will.”

Conlon nodded, neither approval nor disapproval showing in her face. The lieutenant had briefed Dell on the sheriff. Conlon was a combat vet and a seasoned law officer. Dell wasn’t fooled by the small-town ambience and homey atmosphere in the station. These were sharp officers. She hadn’t run an operation by herself before, and she wasn’t too proud to learn from everyone. “What would you do?”