That I believed. The Kate I had known was fearless. Try anything once. Live for the moment.
“After the first time, we relaxed,” he said, his voice straining a bit. “She said it was fairly easy. Everyone was friendly. There were guns, but she said it was like being in a bank. A little security, but very professional.”
“What did she say about Costilla?” I asked.
“Not much. Polite, friendly, somewhat intimidating, but nothing like what she expected. She said he looked like a rich businessman.”
I remembered Costilla in the empty storefront in San Ysidro. Until the shooting started, I probably could have agreed with that description.
“When did you realize she was missing?” I asked.
“When the DEA called me,” Randall said, his face sagging slightly. “They thought she might be with me.” He stopped and rubbed his chin. “Obviously, she wasn’t.”
“Obviously?” I asked.
He refocused on me. “What?”
“You didn’t see her after she disappeared?”
A fire started to burn in his eyes. “No, I didn’t see her. And I don’t think I like the implication.”
I laughed. I had to. The way rich people talk can be amusing. I’m not sure that I had ever used the word “implication” in a sentence before.
“You don’t, huh?” I said. “Well, let me tell you what I don’t like. I don’t like the fact that you are a junkie. I don’t like the fact that you pulled Kate into that life with you.”
“Now wait a second…” he said, trying to defend himself.
“I don’t like the fact that you cheated on Kate,” I continued, ignoring him. “I don’t like the fact that you hung her out to dry because you were too much of a pussy to face it yourself. I don’t like the fact that I found Kate in a car trunk. And what I really don’t like, Randall, is that all of this, all of this shit, keeps curling back to you.”
He stood there, his jaw set, unsure of what to say. He walked around to the bar and over to the balcony. I didn’t move and he had to turn to the side to slide by me.
I turned around and watched him stand there for a moment, looking out the window. Part of me wished he would jump.
“I didn’t kill Kate,” he said quietly.
My head hurt. I didn’t know who to believe. Randall was a manipulator and no matter how much of what he’d told me was true, I would never trust him. He’d given me no reason to.
“When Marilyn said she was hiring you,” he said, turning around to face me, “she said you’d find her. She had no doubt.”
“Why’s that?”
A thin smile creased his lips. “She said you’d probably never gotten over her and that you’d jump at a chance to get back in touch with her.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Jump was a strong word. I had tried to resist taking the job, knowing that working for the Criers was something that would complicate my life. But, in the end, the chance to possibly see Kate again had been enough to coerce me. I hated the fact that Marilyn had been right.
“I guess this isn’t what you expected,” Randall said, shaking his head.
“No, it isn’t,” I said, clenching my teeth.
I snapped my fist into his jaw, watched him sag to the floor, and left.
31
I knew Carter would still be in surgery, and since I couldn’t think of any valid reason to avoid talking to Liz, I headed downtown.
My new best friend was waiting at the elevators to go up when I arrived.
“Detective,” I said, resisting the urge to pat him on the head.
John Wellton, white dress shirt, red tie, gray slacks, glanced in my direction, did half a double take and scowled. “About damn time.”
“For what?”
“For you to get your ass in here and do the report,” he growled.
The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and we stepped in. I pushed three and he looked at me.
“How’s your pal?” he asked.
“In surgery.”
We stared up at the changing lights that illuminated the floor numbers. The wheels and cables hummed, and we slowed down as we approached the third floor.
“Liz is out right now,” he said, stepping off.
“Should I come back?” I asked, knowing the answer.
He grinned, shook his head, and motioned for me to follow him.
His office was across the hall from Liz’s, exactly the same except that he didn’t even have the calendar on the wall. He pointed to the empty chair opposite his desk. I refrained from asking if he needed a booster seat.
Wellton shuffled some papers on the desktop, then looked at me. “Liz says you’re a pain in the ass, but that you’ll be pretty straight up.”
“I’ve heard that about me,” I said.
He shook his head, unamused. “You’re not nearly as funny as you think are. Most people aren’t. Whatever. Tell me what happened.”
I told him what happened. He listened intently, making a few notes every minute or so. No head nods or shakes, just sat still, listening.
“You hadn’t seen the shooters before?” he asked, when I’d finished.
“No.”
“Not at San Ysidro?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Detective,” I said.
He leaned back in his chair. “Fine. Off the record.”
“No, they weren’t there. These guys didn’t look like part of Costilla’s regular hitters.”
He picked up a pencil and clenched it in his fist. “I’m gonna assume your friend will tell us the same story.”
“Don’t see why he wouldn’t. It’s the truth.”
Wellton nodded. “Sure. Wanna know what I think?”
“Not really.”
“I think Costilla’s gonna kill you, Braddock,” he said. “Each time you scamper away from him, you make him look bad. And he gets more pissed. You shot up his guys twice now. No way he’s gonna forget you.”
I let that sit in my stomach for a moment. It didn’t feel good. But I knew he was right.
“That’s not enough to get you off all this?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow. “To just walk away?”
I knew it was a rhetorical question, but I answered anyway. “No, not now.”
“Now?” he asked. “Why now?”
“I may have gotten his guys twice,” I said, “but he put one friend in the hospital and I think he put another in the trunk of her car.”
Wellton stared at me for a minute. “I guess. With your buddy in the hospital, you got others to hang with?”
I knew that he was asking if I had some other protection. “I’ll be alright,” I told him.
He shrugged. “Okay. But Liz’s rules are still on the table. You fuck it up, we’re gonna bring you in.”
I stood up. “We’ll see.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure we will.”
I turned to go.
“Braddock.”
I turned around.
