wall-a difficult task while wearing a flowered Hawaiian shirt and tennis shoes. Shane brought them all up to date on what he suspected. Then Filosiani took control of the meeting-or at least tried to. Problem was, nobody had much use for anyone else in the room. The DEA hated the FBI, and vice versa. They all hated the Marshals, who hated them back. Information was proving to be a scarce commodity. Adding to the confusion, everybody's beeper kept going off. They would glance at their little screens, then step out into the hall to return their calls in private. With all the paging going on, it was no secret that everyone's office was on Red Alert.
'You guys over at WITSEC must have some kinda ongoing management of your assets,' Filosiani said.
'What assets?' Carl, the wide-bodied head marshal, deadpanned. 'We don't control anybody named Zelso or Champion. Furthermore, even if he was on our list, which he isn't, WITSEC is constitutionally exempt from cooperating with other investigations in regard to our clients.'
'Then why is the guy in your fucking computer?' Shane asked hotly.
'That's enough a that, Sergeant,' Filosiani reprimanded, then turned back to Carl. 'Then why's the guy in your fucking computer?'
'You telling me the LAPD has been hacking into a secure WITSEC computer and lifting confidential information?' Carl was glaring at Tony; then his beeper went off. He glanced at it, then handed it to another marshal, who left the office to return the call.
'Why can't we share what we have?' Alexa said, somewhat naively. But she had lost control of her gang war and was getting desperate. 'This is red-ball. If American Macado abducted Farrell Champion, and the dope coming into Arizona is being supplied by Valentine, we could be headed for a bloodbath. So let's cut all this interoffice bullshit and try to work together.'
'Are you somebody's secretary or something?' Shavo asked, looking appalled at her suggestion.
'This is Lieutenant Scully, the head of my Detective Services Group,' Filosiani said angrily.
'Obviously, Lieutenant Scully has not worked on many cross-jurisdictional cases,' the DEA suit said around his toothpick. 'We're tasked out of Treasury, the FBI is outta Justice, and the Marshals here report to some intergalactic war council in outer space. I have serious jurisdictional issues. I have people above me who ask hard questions when I give up jurisdiction.' His beeper went off. 'Excuse me.' He stepped out, passing the deputy marshal, who was just coming back.
'Listen,' Filosiani said, spreading his hands in supplication, still addressing Carl from the Marshal's office. 'I know you guys watch your assets. You've got video surveillance or bugs-something. You can't tell me you don't have a clue what happened to Farrell, that you weren't watching him when he was put in that boat in front a his house, that you haven't got a tail working.'
'Farrell? Who is Farrell, again? Was he Zelso, or Champion? I'm confused,' Carl asked, impatiently looking at his watch.
'I guess the meeting's over,' Filosiani announced. 'It's every man for himself.' Tony walked to his office door and opened it. As they all headed out, another beeper went off, but in the crowd, it was impossible to tell whose it was.
Before he left, Shavo stopped and gave Tony a stern warning: 'You are instructed to stay out of what is clearly an FBI situation. Don't get involved.'
'What situation you talking about?' Tony asked. 'Since there ain't no Danny Zelso, or Farrell Champion, why don't you buncha territorial assholes just eat me?'
'It would be a big mistake if you pursued this,' the toothpick from the DEA said.
'Yeah, well, I'll live with mine if you live with yours,' Tony replied. 'See ya, boys.' He was in the threshold of his office as the crowd finally left.
'What a waste of time,' Tony said, closing the door. 'They're all lyin'. They know a lot more than they're sayin'. But in the meantime, we're left standing in the rain here. We got no way to track this. It could be goin' down anywhere in Arizona.'
'Well, bunky,' Nicky said to Shane, 'having done my civic duty, I think I'll just hit the road.' Nicky started toward the door, but Shane pushed him back.
'You're not going anywhere yet.' Then Shane's beeper went off. He looked at it and turned to Alexa. 'Chooch.' He pulled out his cell phone and hit a preprogrammed number.
Chooch answered immediately.
'You okay?' Shane asked. 'Where are you?'
'I'm fine. I'm at the hospital with Delfina. She's talking again… making sense.'
'That's great.'
'Dad, you gotta get over here. She knows most of what's going on.'
Chapter 45
'His name isn't Carlos Martinez, it's Juan Ruiz,' Delfina said, her voice a whisper. She looked like a delicate, dark-skinned, black-eyed doll lying in the hospital bed, her glossy black hair fanned out on the pillow around her.
Chooch was sitting next to her, holding her hand.
'They thought I wasn't listening, but I was. They had me taped to the bed. I was… I was without clothes… they…' She shut her eyes.
Chooch looked at Shane, silently pleading with him not to pursue Delfina's darkest memories.
Shane and Alexa were standing across from the bed. Dr. Sloan had suggested they keep the' group small and was waiting in the hall with the chief and Nicky.
'It's okay,' Alexa said. 'We don't have to discuss that.'
'No, no… I have to say it.' Delfina looked up at Chooch. 'I'm so ashamed,' she said. 'But if I can't talk about it, it will live inside me. I will not get past it. I won't get better.' Surprising wisdom from a sixteen-year-old.
'You did nothing, querida,' Chooch whispered. 'It was them.'
She had tears rimming her eyes as she smiled up at him. 'Thank God you are here with me, querido.'
'What else did they say?' Shane asked.
'They said this man Ruiz has a dairy in Arizona, that they use his hay trucks, which come up from Sinaloa, Mexico, where he owns a hay farm. Juan Ruiz ships the Mexican hay across the border to feed his cows in Arizona, but the real reason is the chiva. The mayates said the drugs make it through the border checks because Customs dogs cannot smell it hidden in the hay.'
'Did they say when this was going to happen? When the shipment of heroin was coming in?' Shane asked. 'My cousin thinks soon.'
'American,' Shane said.
She nodded. 'Senor…' Delfina was looking only at Shane now, her eyes boring into him while choosing her words with care. 'My cousin is rifa. You know this word? He is special-the very best. But he fights for things so big, he has made bad choices to win. He worries about the movimiento and our clica. He fights for his people, but his weapons are wrong. He uses drugs and guns. These things give him money, and money gives him power, but they also enslave the children he hopes one day to free. He knows this and it tortures him. He cannot sleep. He is up half the night pacing. He wants to be a force for good. He wants to change the laws, to affect the politics here in El Norte, but without the drugs he has no leverage. This dilemma is destroying him. He carries it all on his back. It is making him desperate, and one day soon it will cause his death.'
She was saying a lot of what Chooch had said two days ago in the kitchen in Venice. 'You are the police, but he trusts you. If you can find him, maybe he will listen to you or to Chooch. Deep down he knows that to make a difference he must fight using the right weapons, and must be able to survive. He understands that the real solution is education. Soon our people will be the majority in California. Amac told me about a new plan he has to try to get elected to Congress, maybe go to Washington one day and become a great leader. But to do this he must not be a criminal. Please help him.' When she was finished, her eyes remained locked on Shane.
'The blacks who held you, are they going to Arizona?' he asked.
