face was made up thickly as the Spanish women in Miami were apt to do, with a slash of dark red lipstick on her sensuously full lips.
'Yes?' Nancy asked, puzzled.
'Is this where Rick Taggart lives?' the girl asked.
'Yes, yes it is.'
'The Rick Taggart who's doing an article on the street gangs?'
'That's right.'
The girl's face seemed to light up for a moment, as though she were relieved. 'Can I talk to him? It's real important.'
'I'm sorry,' Nancy replied. 'He isn't home from work yet.' She looked searchingly at the girl, whose questions seemed charged with a strange tension. At the news of Rick's absence, she grew agitated, as though this were something she hadn't expected.
'Oh gosh, I've gotta talk to him. It's about, well -' she looked uneasily down the street, as though frightened that someone might overhear. 'It's about his articles. He wants to see me about some info on the gangs. But if he's not here…'
'Wait!' Nancy called after her as she started down the front walk.
Something in the brunette's troubled appearance struck a responsive chord in the young reporter's wife. She was so pathetic somehow, with her thick cosmetics and outrageously tight clothing. 'Why don't you come in and have a cup of coffee? Maybe you can wait for Rick to get back, or perhaps I can help you.'
'Well, if you're sure it's no trouble…'
'Not at all,' Nancy smiled warmly at the girl, and held the door open for the stranger to walk by her.
'I'm Nancy Taggart, Rick's wife,' she said, holding out her hand.
'Pleased to meet you. My name's Maria.'
'Maria? Is that all?' Nancy smiled.
'I'd rather not say the rest,' the girl replied, sitting down on the sofa in the living room. 'I do not want any of the gang to know I am here.'
'Oh.' Nancy sat down opposite her in a comfortable armchair.
'Yeah. Y'see. I know some things about the things Mr. Taggart wants to write about. I have grown up with the gangs and I know how they work. I am even sometimes a woman for the gangs, you know? But I wanted to tell Mr. Taggart some things about what they do, how they work and stuff like that.'
Maria's voice trailed off, and she nervously fingered the straps of her large plastic purse as she talked. 'Y'see, Mr. Taggart's maybe the only one who is interested in doing anything about any of this right now.'
Suddenly the sophisticated-looking brunette dissolved into tears, and she buried her face in her hands.
'Oh, you poor thing,' Nancy murmured, her heart immediately swelling with sympathy. 'I know my husband will want to hear what you have to tell him. You just rest here for a few minutes while I make us some coffee, all right? And then maybe you can tell me about it.'
'That'd be fine,' Maria sobbed.
As soon as Nancy was out of the room, however, the deceptive brunette hastily dried her eyes and began looking around. She'd accomplished half of her mission, getting inside the house and getting Taggart's old lady out of the room. Now for the rest.
On the other side of the room she could see an open door leading to the study. This must be where he worked, she decided, because his wife would have no need for such a place. Moving quickly and quietly across to the door, Maria rummaged through her purse for a brown paper bag.
Inside it were about a hundred little plastic bags that Bernardo had given to her. Going over to the desk, she began distributing them everywhere, in the drawers, under books and papers, in the cubby holes at the back of the desk where Rick kept pencils and unpaid bills.
Her mission accomplished, she glanced toward the kitchen to make sure Nancy was still occupied with the coffee, then slipped out the door again, closing it softly behind her.
A few moments later, Rick's unsuspecting young wife came back into the living room, carrying a large tray with two cups of fresh coffee, sugar and cream. 'Here we are -' she began, then stopped, startled, thinking that perhaps the girl had gone into the bathroom. But the door was open and the lights in the bathroom were off.
'She's gone,' Nancy murmured, going to the front window to see if perhaps she could catch a glimpse of the girl in the street. 'How strange. She must have let her fear get the best of her. Rick will be sorry to hear that, he was probably counting on the information the girl was going to give him.'
Chapter 3
'REGISTER REPORTER ARRESTED FOR SELLING DRUGS' the headlines of the Banner screamed, and underneath was the story of how Rick Taggart had sold marijuana to high school students.
'Now, honey, keep calm,' Nancy Taggart's hazel-eyed husband counseled her from the other side of the screen, brushing a lock of his light brown hair out of his eyes. 'Obviously it was a frame. One of the stories I'm on. The heat was probably too much for them, so whoever it was tried to put me out of action. Probably the street gang, you know, the Morros. I've been doing a series of articles on them, their goings on, their legendary trophy room.'
'But how could a street gang do something like framing you? I mean, I always thought that they didn't concern themselves with things like framing people. I thought they were just small-time punks, juvenile delinquents.'
'Most of them are, honey. But the Morros, they are a little bit different. It's been around for a long time, this Morros gang, started by a Cuban refugee in the forties, now it's headed by the man's sons.
But they're good, and they know what they are about. But then again, as good as they are, they are not quite good enough or powerful enough to cover all the angles. Just give the cops some time and they'll find out that I've been framed. Just don't worry about it. It'll turn out all right. Really, honey, don't worry.'
Nancy looked longingly through the mesh screen at her handsome young husband. With all her heart she wanted to reach out and touch him, hold him, and tell him she loved him. But that was against the rules.
Visitors must have no physical contact with prisoners. All she could do was stare numbly at him, her whole being filled with an aching loneliness worse than anything she'd ever suffered in her young life.
'Is there anything that I can do? I told the police what happened, but is there something I can do? Anything!' she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
'No, you just stay clear of the Morros and let the police handle it.
They know where to look and they can handle the people.'
'But I know I'd recognize the girl again If I saw her. Did you tell them that I could go down to the area and see whether I could find her?'
'No, if the police pick anybody up, they'll call you to make an identification.'
A warning bell sounded, indicating that visiting hours were at an end.
'Okay, if you think that it will be better for me to stay put,' Nancy said, her stomach contracting at the prospect of being separated from her husband so soon.
'No. You just stay home and be there if the police need you.'
The young reporter smiled as reassuringly as he could at his blue-eyed wife, who looked so forlorn on the other side of the screen. 'And bring me a great big smile next time you come. Okay?'
Nancy nodded, not trusting her voice. Just then a blue-uniformed guard approached Rick. 'I'm afraid that's all the time you've got, Taggart,' he said, although his voice wasn't unkind. Rick nodded, and turned his back to the screen.
'I love you, honey,' he whispered. 'And this'll all be over in no time, you'll see.'
'I love you too, darling. I'll… I'll see you.'
A few moments later, Nancy was making her way down the broad, steep flight of steps that led from the door of the county jail to the sidewalk below. She started toward her car which was parked down the street, but she suddenly realized that she didn't want to go home. She couldn't face the prospect of going home to her empty house, a house that she could not tolerate without her husband. She would walk a little bit, get her mind off of
