just a boy. Where he wasn't savvy, he was the most gullible, and Frank had already seen she'd been able to get to him. She pulled his thin rap sheet from Placa's murder book. It was mostly minor stuff. A B&E, petty theft, public intox.
The phone rang and she answered absently.
'Hi,' Gail said. 'I tracked you down.'
'Hey,' Frank said, putting down the rap sheet to give Gail her full attention. 'Missed you last night.'
'I just wasn't up for the full compliment of Neanderthal's. Present company excluded, of course. Did anybody get set on fire or handcuffed to the urinal?'
'Nope. They were good children last night. What are you up to?'
'Working on my histopathology lecture for next week,' then after a pause, 'And wondering if I scared you off.'
'What makes you say that?'
'We haven't talked since Tuesday night. Since I told you about the mastectomy. I was just wondering if it put you off.'
'Not at all. I've just been busy following your lead.'
'My lead?'
'The cop theory. I like it more and more. I even have a sketchy suspect.'
'That's terrific. I probably can't ask who, can I?'
'Nope. But once more I stand indebted. Might have to buy you dinner again.'
'I don't think so. If anybody's buying it's me. I can't remember the last time you let me buy a meal.'
'How about tonight?'
'Really? Do you have time?'
'I'll make it. What do you feel like?'
'I don't know. Do you want to go back to La Perla? That was awfully good.'
'Long as you don't get the veal,' Frank smiled into the receiver.
They arranged a time and Frank sat back, tapping a pencil to Ella belting out a Johnnie Mercer tune. The pencil beat a mean rhythm as Frank hummed along, eyes closed. She'd gotten to that funky point in a case where there was just a tangled ball of leads in her head. Concentrating on it was confusing and exacting, and she knew if she could just let it alone for a while that the ball would unravel itself. Eventually the leads would fall out into somewhat of a straight line and that line would point her in the right direction. It was hard not to force the unraveling, but when the music clicked off Frank crammed her notes into the briefcase and hit the freeway.
She drove with one arm hanging in the sun. Ella's sophisticated arrangements had given way to Dre and Snoop's thugged out bass lines. Banging her hand against the door, Frank realized she was happy. Brick by brick she was building a case against Placa's killer, a killer who might very well be a cop in her own house. She didn't like that her best suspect was a cop, and dreaded the inevitable backlash of theory becoming reality. Still it felt good to have a name to bite into and it didn't bother her that the name was Hunt. She had to move delicately on this, but at least she was moving and that was a feeling Frank lived for.
Not only that, she was on her way to dinner with a beautiful woman. Frank wasn't sure which development was more pleasing, but decided not to worry about it. Her relationship with Gail was fun and friendly, and that was all. It was nice where it was and didn't need to be poked or probed or prodded. Best, she thought thumping out the beat, to save that kind of effort for Hunt.
Chapter Twenty-five
Frank answered the phone to hear, 'Dang, girl. You're harder to get aholt of than a greased pig in a stockyard.'
'Who is this?'
'Don't sass me, LT.'
'Whassup, sport?
'I done checked around like you asked me too, about the Estrella's. Lots of little stuff, but not a felony rap since the mid-nineties. Before that there was a whole rash of them, the whole family had 'em. Like measles or something.'
Kennedy's awful drawl faded as she warmed to her info.
'I thought it was weird that they'd stopped so I talked to a guy who used to work Narco at Figueroa. He said not to worry about it, that it wasn't my problem. Of course that just got me more curious.'
A thin smile creased Frank's face. She felt sorry for any dumb bastard who thought he could give Kennedy the brush-off.
'I kept at him and he got really pissed. Told me to keep my goddamn Parker nose out of Figueroa business. He said the Estrella's were pocket change, and that they had better things to do with their resources. And so what if a bunch of spies were just serving to other spies?'
'So there's still action but everybody's looking the other way.'
'That's my take on it. But if they're that obvious, why not bust 'em for easy stats?'
Frank squeezed more notes onto a crowded sheet of paper headed COP.
'You done good, sport. I owe you one.'
'Yeah, and I'll make you pay, believe me.'
'Don't doubt you for a moment.' To sidetrack her, Frank asked, 'How's our favorite waitress?'
'Fine. I ain't busted her heart yet, like you told her I would.'
'Yet's the operative word.'
'You're just too cynical, Frank. You don't trust anybody. You know that's true.'
'Absolutely,' Frank agreed, the ensuing pause prompting Kennedy to forge ahead undaunted. As usual she knew exactly what Frank needed, and as usual it involved a complicated gymnastic routine in the bedroom. Frank again agreed, glancing at the wall clock. It was already noon and she was determined to talk with Tonio before the day was through. She told Kennedy she had to run and ducked out of the office. In a few minutes she was at Claudia's, but Tonio wasn't home. She cruised his most likely hangouts and eventually found him rolling dice in an alley. She made him get in the car despite his sullen protests.
'You arrestin' me?'
'Nope. Just want to talk.'
'What if I ain't got nothin' to say?'
'Too bad. Get in.'
They drove around in what seemed like circles until Frank parked across from the 52st Street School. Pointing at a small, elegant tag on a concrete piling, she asked,
Tonio glared the other way. She cut the engine and slouched down, propping a knee against the panel board. Casually pulling a pack of Camels out of her shirt pocket, she lit one, careful not to inhale too deeply and get dizzy. Frank was going to break Tonio, even if it meant spending the night here and getting hooked on nicotine all over again. But halfway through her cigarette, Tonio's impatient youth got the better of him.
'What are we doin' here?' he griped.
'Nothing so far. But I got all day.'
The boy made a disgusted sound and turned back toward his window. Frank puffed, tapped ash.
'You smoke?' she asked, knowing he did. She pushed the pack at him.
He sneered, ' I thought kid's just supposed to say no.'
'Hey, the way your family's been catching bullets lately, you'd be lucky to live long enough to get cancer.'
Frank saw his slight move toward them, then how he caught himself. She studied his slice of profile.
'I can't remember. You and Placa have the same father?'
'No.'
'You look a lot like her anyway.'
Frank flicked her stub onto the road. They watched a paramedic truck scream past the windshield.
'Wonder where they're going,' she muttered.
Tonio's hands flew angrily in the air.
'What you want?'
'You know,' Frank said in a friendly tone, almost chipper.
