“Sure,” Zach said clasping it and taking a huge hit.
“You’re aware it’s illegal in public,” Kelly said.
“Ah, people don’t worry about it around here,” the computer guy said taking it back. “I’ll go see how my boy is getting on.” As he walked out back they heard him asking where the Doritos were.
They took a seat in a small waiting area that contained two black leather chairs, a small table covered in computer magazines, and a retro gumball machine. Kelly had just squatted when the owner came out again. “All right. All done.”
“You managed to save the data?”
“Yep but the computer is a state. Now if you’re looking for a new computer…”
“We’re not. How much do I owe you?”
He rattled off a figure and she paid up and they headed out eager to discover the secrets the data held.
Chapter 17
A large crowd had gathered beneath Cosmo’s apartment. Black-and-white cruisers blocked off access as did yellow police tape. Cops went in and out while local media set up their equipment to capture a sound bite. Jack stood among the curious onlookers, a slight hunch to his posture with the hood up. He was taking a big risk but whoever was responsible for Cosmo’s death and calling the police had to have been in the area at the time. Was it possible they would still be there? Could he spot them? Jack surveyed the many faces: young, old, the wealthy, and the homeless. Everyone stopped, hoping to catch a glimpse. People had a natural curiosity especially if death was involved. He saw one gal snap a selfie with a smile as if it was something to be proud of. A couple of officers were taking statements from those who were in the Laundromat at the time. An elderly man made gestures as if to indicate height. With so much attention, both of them would need to stay low for a while. Jack reached into his back pocket and pulled out the necklace belonging to Dana. He clutched it and stared down, hearing her voice in his head.
A siren wailed a few times, and lights came on and the crowd parted to allow a dark sedan through. Jack kept his head low but eyed it as it crawled through the crowded street and parked at a 45-degree angle near a cruiser. The driver’s door opened and a dark brown cowboy boot emerged. As the driver got out, Jack noticed he was a burly man dressed in a dark pinstriped suit and bolo tie. He removed his shades and gazed up at the hard sun, wiping sweat from his brow. The second he did, Jack recognized him. It was the man from the video. The 200-pound man swept his hand back across his jacket to reveal a badge on his waist and a handgun before thumbing his waist.
He’s a detective?
Jack moved through the crowd trying to get closer, trying to hear what an officer was saying to him. The detective put his aviators back on and looked out at the crowd and barked out a few orders to the officers stationed near the yellow tape. Jack froze avoiding eye contact and running a hand over the lower half of his face as if he was wiping drool away. Between the heads of onlookers he studied the detective as an officer led him up the steep steps to the apartment. He disappeared inside and Jack glanced over at his Ford sedan and memorized the plate number.
Keen to get a closer look at the car, he made his way around walking with a slight limp. Squeezing through the crowd of locals and tourists he peered into the vehicle, glancing every so often up at the apartment windows to make sure he wasn’t being watched. If there weren’t such a large police presence and so many eyeballs he would have ducked into the back and waited for the detective to return. Instead all he could do was glean what he could from the inside. A coffee cup sat in the center console, a newspaper on the passenger seat, and a packet of cigarettes on top. Beyond that the car was immaculate. No dust, no clutter. He took pride in what he owned, and by his appearance that crossed over to what he wore.
“Step back,” a cop bellowed at the crowd.
EMTs emerged from the apartment with Cosmo’s body in a black bag. Jack hung around for another ten minutes before the detective came out and stood at the top of the stairs looking out over the crowd. If Jack wasn’t mistaken he was scoping out the faces, possibly searching for anyone who might stand out, like him. Jack remained still. Movement would only draw his eye. He hunched down and waited until the detective descended before shifting behind two onlookers. As the detective got closer to his vehicle an officer called out to him. “Detective Garcia, a quick word.”
He stepped away from the car and chatted with the officer but was too far away for Jack to hear. When he returned he raised a hand. “I’ll be at the office.”
Jack moved quickly through the crowd heading for three cabs that were parked in a turnoff waiting on tourists. He hopped in the back of one, banged the door shut and glanced over his shoulder waiting for the sedan to drive away.
“Hey, no bums.”
Jack turned to see an oversized Mexican looking at him in the rearview mirror. His gut was pressed up against the steering wheel making it look like he was trapped.
