expression, at least, if we’re on the right track.”
“It’s worth a try,” Cruz agreed after considering for a moment. “Is it your turn to drive, or mine?”
When they arrived at the South District headquarters they received a shock. Cruz stared at the desk sergeant. “What do you mean, Stover made bail yesterday?”
The older man looked annoyed at the question. “Just what I said. Some woman came by yesterday afternoon with wads of hundred-dollar bills stuffed into baggies, and he walked.”
Madeline looked at her partner, stunned. “There’s no way he could come up with that much money. If he could, he would have been out before.”
The desk sergeant pointedly went back to his paperwork, already dismissing them.
“Can we see the paperwork on the bail?” Cruz asked.
The man let out a great sigh, threw his pen down and left his chair. A moment later he came back with the necessary papers. Cruz took them, holding them so both he and Madeline could read them. It was a measure of how much he was coming to rely on her ability; he didn’t even bother to take notes. After perusing the papers they thanked the officer, who didn’t look unhappy to see them go.
“Seems a little strange,” Cruz remarked as they pulled away from the building. “Somehow I hadn’t pictured him as the type to inspire such devotion from a woman. I wonder what her relationship to him was?”
Madeline shrugged.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.
She nodded. “His address was on the papers. Let’s go see if he had any second thoughts about talking after being a prolonged guest of the county.”
Stover lived in a part of the city that he was unfamiliar with, and Cruz used the GPS on his cell. The neighborhoods began to get seedier. A group of youths on one corner were amusing themselves by setting litter baskets on fire.
Seeing them, Madeline began to wonder what would be left of the car by the time they were finished talking to Stover.
“That must be it up ahead,” Cruz finally said. “This is 1014 right here, so 1016 must be the yellow house.”
Madeline pulled to a stop, double-parking in front. His description was too kind. Any paint the house had ever seen was nothing but a dim memory. Curls of faded yellow latex clung to the siding in places, but more of the house was a dull, faded gray. They walked up to the porch, avoiding the steps that had large holes in them. An old screen door hung uselessly by one hinge. Four mailboxes lined the wall next to the door.
“Which one is Stover supposed to be in?”
“1B.”
They pushed open the inner door and were in a small foyer. Stover’s door was slightly ajar. “Detectives Martinez and Casey, Stover,” Madeline called. “We’d like to talk to you for a minute.” There was no response.
She shared a glance, and he pounded his fist against the rickety doorjamb. “Open up, Stover. Police.” Still there was no answer. Though she listened intently, Madeline could not hear any sound in the room. She turned away in disgust, but Cruz used his free hand to push the door open all the way, simultaneously barking, “Police!”
They both saw Stover at the same time, lying facedown on the bed. Slowly they approached him, each sure of what they would find. Cruz pulled the sheet back for a better look at the man.
There was a neat bullet hole at the base of his scalp.
Chapter 8
Madeline felt for a pulse, but her action was merely precautionary. “He’s cold already,” she murmured. “Whoever paid him a visit has been gone quite a while.”
“Didn’t get to enjoy his newfound freedom long, did he?”
She sighed. “I’ll radio it in.”
An hour later the room was full of police personnel. Madeline and Cruz stood in the hallway as the CSU and the homicide detectives worked. They’d already told what they knew to the supervising officer, Lieutenant Niles, who stood in the doorway. As the body was rolled by on a stretcher, he stepped back into the hallway,
“So that was the guy they had dead to rights on the attempted bank robbery?” the lieutenant asked. “Jacobs will scream about this. Way I heard it, the conviction was a sure thing.” He lit a cigarette and peered at the two of them through the smoke. “What’s your angle?”
“We’re working to nail whoever’s supplying these guys with the guns,” Cruz said.
The lieutenant grunted, watching his officers search the room. “Good luck. You have any ideas to make my investigation a little easier?”
“Maybe.” Madeline pulled out the picture of Valdez. “We’d come to question Stover about this man. We think he might have sold Stover the gun.” She gave him a brief description of Valdez’s criminal record. “His prints are on file. If you get a clear print in here, try matching it to his.”
“You might want to find the woman who put up bail for him yesterday,” Cruz suggested. “Seems pretty odd to me that he sat in that cell as long as he did, and suddenly someone came up with the money.”
“You got a theory on that?” the man inquired.
“Maybe. Stover knew there was interest in the supplier. He asked to cut a deal with the D.A. Jacobs turned it down. Could be that someone got wind of that interest and decided to shut Stover up, in case Jacobs reconsidered.”
The lieutenant mulled this over. “We’ll give that a shot. What district you in?”
“Southwest.”
He nodded. “I’ll give you a call if we get anywhere with that. In the meantime, if you catch up with this Valdez, I’d like to hear about it.”
“You got it.”
Cruz and Madeline walked out of the building. “Next stop- Valdez?” Madeline questioned, already knowing the answer.
He nodded. “But somehow I suspect that we’re going to find that he is far, far underground.”
The search for the man proved futile. They revisited the places they had looked yesterday, this time asking for him by name and showing his picture. They went to his home again and were told by a neighbor that Valdez hadn’t been there lately. Ever since he figured out he was wanted for questioning, Madeline surmised. Before Cruz had come in to work that morning, she had taken the opportunity to call Valdez’s parole officer. He’d given her the name and address of Wynn Construction, where Valdez had been working. After relaying this information to Cruz, they drove there, and were told by a surly manager that Valdez hadn’t shown up for work all week.
By the end of the day they had to admit defeat. No one they talked to claimed any knowledge of Valdez’s whereabouts. Most of the people they approached seemed fearful to discuss him. Back in the car Madeline said, “Well, it seems like one of our hunches might be correct. No one wanted to talk about the supplier, and they’re just as unwilling to discuss Valdez. Maybe they’re one and the same.” She was suddenly struck with an idea. “Why don’t we talk to Tommy again?Maybe he’s heard something else since we last spoke to him.”
Cruz shook his head. “Tommy is long gone by now. He’s taken off to lie low for a while, and wherever he is, you can be sure that he’s so deep into a bottle he wouldn’t be coherent anyway.”
“It’s not like we have a lot of other options at the moment.” She drove toward the area in which they’d found the newsstand.
When he guessed where they were going, Cruz frowned. “I told you this is a waste of time. “I know Tommy well enough to know his habits. We’re not going to find him.”
“It won’t hurt to ask.” But when she neared the newsstand, Cruz got out of the car without waiting for her to find a place to park.
“Damn!” Madeline swung into the parking lot of the convenience store across the street and hurried to join him. She wanted to be there when he asked for Tommy. She couldn’t afford to take whatever Cruz told her at face value. But by the time she was halfway across the street he was headed back toward her again.
She turned to follow him back to the car. “What did he say?”
He looked impatient. “Exactly what I knew he’d say. He hasn’t seen Tommy since I dropped off the money for
