Street Rules

'I don't know,' she protested. 'Me and my homegirls was in the back gettin' high and messing around. I don't know where that party was at. Ocho was drivin'.'

Frank lifted her jacket sleeve away from her watch.

'I'm gonna give you one hour to find out where that party was.'

Lydia pouted at the cracked concrete.

'What if I can' find out?'

'Then word on the street's gonna be that Ocho's girl was ballin' an off-brand. I'll let Ocho figure out who.'

Frank let that sink in, then added, 'Si estas firme, your boyfriend can come home.'

La Reina made a face suggesting that wasn't much of a reward for her troubles.

Chapter Fifteen

Frank was talking to Nook and Bobby, about to call Northeast CRASH to see if the gang division would give them a liaison to help ID bangers who might have been at the Eagle Rock party.

'We don't need any help,' Nook protested. 'I can —'

'— you know that area?'

'Not so well, but I can figure it out.'

Frank put her hand on the phone.

'No offense, but this'll go a lot faster if we're working with someone who knows the place.'

Frank saw that a lot, cops hating to give help or ask for it. They were greedy with their knowledge, hoarding it like provisions during famine. They were most disinclined to lend assistance to other agencies, but were even possessive within their own divisions and with their own colleagues. Frank guessed because most cops were men, it was a pride thing, like not asking for directions. She thought it ridiculous and had no trouble asking for or giving help to other jurisdictions. With the advent of computerized databases, sharing information was becoming increasingly easier, and some of the 'I got mine, now you get yours' attitude was breaking down. Still it was common with old-timers like Nook, and Frank wasn't about to let him get away with it. Especially on this case.

But the CRASH cowboys were as reluctant to offer help as Nook was to accept it. A lieutenant told her they couldn't possibly break anyone loose until Monday. Frank had no alternative but to let her boys do what they could alone, and meanwhile, they could track Itsy down too. She sent them out and reached for her ringing phone.

'Howdy,' came the long drawl at the other end. 'How ya doin?'

'Hey, sport. What's up?'

'Not much. I'm at work. Luchowski's got me back on paper. Doesn't want me gettin' over- exposed,' she complained dramatically. Frank almost smiled. Kennedy loved undercover work and resented when she had to stay behind the desk for any length of time. Frank didn't say he was probably right, only offered condolences.

'Well, I reckon as I'll live. Not happily, but I'll live. I been sittin' a spell, goin' through this joker's file, trying to find some aliases and I came up with a homey name a Custard Pie. I ran him in the computer but nothing came up. I remembered Diego was talking about him one night at the Alibi. I remembered on account a how that infected eye gave him the name. You know the dude I'm talking about?'

'I know the guy, he's an Eight-trey Crip. Deals mostly weed and Sherms.'

'Yeah, that's him,' Kennedy said languidly, 'only now he's hanging around elementary schools trying his hand at crack.'

She needed whatever Frank had on him and Frank promised to get it for her.

'Cool. I'd shore appreciate it.'

Annette Funicello meets Dale Evans, Frank thought.

'No problem.'

There was a slight pause, then Kennedy said, 'Now be honest, you miss me, don't ya?'

The moment she heard her voice Frank figured something like that was coming, and she was steeled for it.

'Can't sleep at night.'

'I know you'd never tell me anything like that if it was true,' Kennedy countered, correctly. Then she pushed even further, saying, 'Looks like you and Doc Law are gettin' along real good.'

'No better than you and me.'

'You sure about that? You two look awful snug together and don't I get some hairy eyeball whenever I come around.'

'Don't read too much into drinks after work, sport. Not everybody has your appetite for bed-hopping.'

'Oo-o,' Kennedy drew out, 'did I hit a nerve?'

'No,' Frank lied, irritated by the conversation. 'You've just spoiled me for other women. Look. I've got to get back to work. I'll get the Custard Pie data to you ASAP'

She hung up without waiting for Kennedy's goodbye.

Frank sniffed the gummy coffee at the bottom of the pot and put it back down. She'd much rather have a beer at the Alibi with her feet propped on a chair but she had an appointment with Clay at 4:00. Checking her watch, she calculated she could squeeze in a quick visit to the Estrella's. She did, and was pleased to find them all home.

'One big happy family,' she noted affably, perching on the sofa arm. 'But every family's got secrets, right?'

Gloria juggled the baby and didn't take her eyes from the novela on the TV Claudia leaned silently against the wall and Tonio looked like he'd been doing some herbal, sprawled in the worn easy chair, dull-eyed and slack-mouthed.

'Tell me something. I thought Itsy and Placa were hooked up, but now I hear they busted up a while back. Who was Placa's new tight?'

They all stared at anything but Frank. Zero reaction.

'What if I told you she was twistin' Ocho's girlfriend?'

'You'd be fuckin' crazy,' Gloria laughed, but Tonio threw Frank a hasty glance. He licked his lips and wiggled deeper into the chair. Frank smiled inside, knowing he knew.

'De verdad,' she continued. 'Placa had La Reina tattooed on her leg, right up here,' Frank drew a line across her thigh. Tonio didn't look but the other two did. Gloria stopped bouncing the baby.

'Mentirosa,' she growled.

'Tejuro,' Frank pledged, hand held in the air.

Gloria jumped up in a full and sudden fury, screaming, 'Jodida puta! How could she be disrespecting her clica like that? That fuckin' bitchl'

Claudia merely watched her grandchild crawling on the floor and Frank asked, 'You knew?'

She waved a hand, 'I don't know about that kinda thing. Carmen, she always have to be different. Always want to be somethin' she not. I don't want to know nothin' about that business of hers.'

Claudia crossed herself and Frank looked at Tonio for an answer. He wouldn't meet her gaze. She wanted to talk to him, but she wanted him alone. She'd wait. She was running out of time for today. With a grin, she said, 'I hope this was as much fun for you as it was for me. I'll see you tomorrow.'

She let herself out, pondering how to approach Tonio as she crept through side street traffic to the freeway traffic. She was five minutes late for her meeting with Clay, but his secretary apologized that he was running late too. Frank nodded, quickly disregarding the mental health brochures scattered around as reading material. A bottled blonde, rail-thin and heavily made-up, rattled through a Good Housekeeping. Must have brought it with her, Frank thought, wondering who she was waiting for. Husband? Boyfriend? Frank decided to wait in the hallway, not wanting to bump into whoever came out of Clay's office.

She paced, chumming her thoughts back to Placa. Maybe it was inevitable, but like Noah and Bobby, Frank had hoped Placa would turn out differently. She wasn't the only one who must have thought that; there probably wasn't a cop in Figueroa who at some point hadn't picked up that baby girl padding happily along the sidewalk in a loaded diaper. She'd laugh and wiggle when you held her and always tried to pry your badge off. As an older child she'd become wary, but quick to smile when she recognized you. When she started banging, she'd become hostile and insolent, but still able to summon a trace of civility for the cops she knew best. Despite the rough tagger