“She called me last night.”
“Who called you last night?”
“Samantha Lu. Or whatever her name is.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“How did she get your number?”
“I have no idea.”
“What did she want?”
“She said she’s not our enemy.”
Carlos snorted at this, touching the side of his face where he’d been kicked last night.
“She has an interesting way of showing it.”
“I know. I told her the same thing. She said she had no choice. That she and the other girl couldn’t be detained.”
“Did she say what she wants?”
“She wants to find the Devil just as much as we do.”
Carlos’s brow creased as he frowned.
“Why does she want to find the Devil?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because she found the bodies. Or …”
“Or?”
“I’m not sure. But there’s certainly more going on with her than we know about.”
Carlos nodded and held up a finger.
“Speaking of which, have you checked out La Baliza lately?”
Ramon grimaced.
“You know I can’t stand that website.”
Carlos turned in his seat and moved his mouse to wake his computer. Within seconds he had a web browser up and had pulled up La Baliza. He scrolled down and pointed at one of the stories.
“See here? This story is about the bodies being found yesterday, and how Miguel Dominguez is a suspect. Christ, look here. They even have pictures of Dominguez’s apartment.”
Ramon tried to skim the text, but the pictures kept distracting him. One was of the Paraíso Motel, the other of Miguel Dominguez’s apartment. On the surface the picture could have been of anybody’s apartment, but Ramon had been there just yesterday. Had stood in the middle of the place. Smelled the dankness of the room. These pictures were legit.
Carlos said, “Remember our pimp friends from yesterday? They said they followed Samantha Lu to that building. The same building where the landlord was shot and killed and where those narco wannabes got beat up.”
Ramon forced himself to look away from the computer screen. He fixed his eyes on Carlos.
“Are you saying this Samantha Lu writes for La Baliza?”
“My gut says she doesn’t. But remember, when she came out of that building, she wasn’t alone. She was with another girl, who I’m betting is the same girl she was with at La Miserias. Speaking of which, should we tell the boss about what happened last night?”
“You mean getting our asses kicked?”
Carlos touched the side of his face again.
“My wife’s passed five years now. I can’t quite use the excuse that she punched me last night. Yours doesn’t look so bad, by the way.”
Ramon just nodded. He didn’t want to tell Carlos it was because his wife had touched it up with some of her makeup this morning. It was too embarrassing, though maybe not as embarrassing as being beaten up by a woman.
Before Ramon could say anything, Carlos’s desk phone rang. Carlos answered it, listened for a couple seconds, then said they would be right down and replaced the phone in its cradle.
Ramon said, “What’s up?”
“That was Jorge. He’s ready for us.”
Jorge was the medical examiner. He worked in the basement, examining the dead bodies that came in every day.
Carlos pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Ibarra and Serrano are downstairs waiting for us, too. Let’s hope they also want to act like last night didn’t happen.”
Ramon stood up and gestured for Carlos to go first.
“Age before beauty.”
Carlos snorted as he started toward the elevators.
“Says the guy wearing makeup.”
Down in the basement they found the two PFM agents already back in Jorge’s lab. The bodies were laid out on three tables, covered with sheets. Still, the smell of the charred flesh lingered in the air.
Jorge said, “Now that you’re all here, do you want me to show off my brilliance or just tell you my conclusion?”
Carlos said, “Which do you think?”
Jorge beamed a bright smile.
“My brilliance, obviously.”
He waited a beat, and when nobody laughed or even smiled, he sighed.
“Fine, I’ll jump right to my conclusion. Something that may or may not be pertinent to the case.”
Ramon asked, “Which is?”
“At this time there’s no way for me to identify the bodies.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m still waiting on the dental records, and without those, there’s no way I can make a match. Besides, we’re not even one hundred percent certain who the victims are.”
Jorge held up a hand before anybody could interrupt.
“Yes, yes, I know we believe we know who the victims are, and that may very well be true, but without one hundred percent certainty I won’t say one way or another. All I have right now is the woman’s jewelry.”
He gestured at a stainless-steel bowl on the counter behind them.
“One earring. That’s it.”
Carlos crossed his arms, impatient.
“And your conclusion?”
“Based on the fact that there was no smoke found in their lungs, their throats were cut before they were burned. All three of them.”
This caused the PFM agents to trade glances. They didn’t say anything, though, and just turned their attention back to Jorge.
Ramon said to the agents, “Anything you want to share?”
Ibarra shook his head.
“Not at the moment, no.”
Carlos heaved a heavy sigh.
“We’re all on the same team here, right? Don’t leave us in the dark. If you have information to share, share it.”
The two agents traded glances again. They stared at each other for a long moment, communicating silently, and then Serrano nodded.
He said, “This is new.”
Ramon said, “What’s new?”
“The Devil cutting their throats before burning them. From what we’ve learned about the past murders, he ties them up, douses them in gasoline, and sets them on fire. They burn alive until they die.”
Carlos drifted over to the counter and glanced inside the stainless-steel bowl at the single earring.
“So what does that tell you about these murders?”
Ibarra shrugged.
“We’re not sure yet. We’ll have to call headquarters and see what they think. One theory is that he had no choice but to cut their throats. That he was pressed for time.”
Still smelling the charred flesh in the air, Ramon asked, “How long does it take for somebody to burn alive before
