Bounty(124)
“You all right?” he asked.
“Are you a wizard?” I asked back, swaying out a bag to indicate the space.
Another cocky grin.
God, the man killed me.
“Lunch!” I shouted.
“Right on!” Bubba shouted back, also in coveralls, mask at his throat, but no offense to Bub, he didn’t make it hot.
“Bub, paper plates in the laundry room. Can you get ’em?” Deke asked as Bubba made his way off the ladder and Deke turned to follow him down.
“I can get them,” I said.
“I got ’em, darlin’,” Bubba replied and took off across the space.
I looked to Deke, having a weird feeling about Bubba’s exit, which seemed pre-planned.
He finished climbing down the ladder and I slowly approached him as he not-so-slowly approached me.
“Is everything cool?” I asked.
He stopped in front of me and ordered, “Give me a kiss, Jussy.”
I rolled up on my toes, he curled a hand around my jaw and we touched lips.
I rolled back and he didn’t take his hand away.
“Okay, uh…kinda freaking here, honey,” I whispered.
“Deck called.”
Oh shit.
“And?” I prompted.
“Bianca and Anton Rojas left on a flight at ten thirty yesterday morning bound for Costa Rica.”
“Oh shit,” I said out loud.
Deke kept the information flowing.
“Thing that’s sure was what freaked your girl Lacey’s old man, Anton Rojas, when you knew him, had a very illegal business.”
“Oh fuck,” I breathed.
“Slow, steady growth, the guy played it smart,” Deke shared. “When he got on radar with bigger fish who’d eat him whole, he made a wise decision that he didn’t want things to turn messy. He merged operations with a very big player and took a mid-level management position.”
“Tony,” I said disbelievingly, because I could kind of believe it, I also just couldn’t.
“Time in between, he worked his way up and he’s heavy now, Jussy. He’s also sharp. Everyone from the cops to the Feds know he’s neck deep in some serious shit but they got nothing to tie him to anything.”
“Right,” I muttered just for something to say, totally flipped out at all Deke was saying.
“Now, they still got nothin’,” Deke went on. “Those tickets were not bought yesterday morning. They were bought a week ago. Last Monday, precisely, the day after the shit went down with you.”
I nodded, thinking this was not a coincidence.
Deke kept going.
“Anton’s prints are in the system. Where they aren’t is anywhere in that apartment. Only thing places him there is an eye witness and he’s only one. No one else saw him or has ever seen him there.”
“Okay,” I said, again just for something to say because Deke stopped talking.
He started again.
“Sayin’ that, no one saw Caswell go in. No one heard shit. No shell casings left behind. No signs of struggle. No mess like someone was getting out in a hurry. No one saw either of them leave. And no one can place those two there when Caswell was done. Outside the witness, who did confirm it was Rojas he saw entering the apartment, they got nothing else to put him there. Cops haven’t approached Rojas’s people but they suspect, when they do, they’ll get alibis for him and Bianca. He lives closer to LAX. She could have spent the night at his place before they took off in the morning. Or someone could say that’s the way it was even if it wasn’t the way it was. And Bianca left clothes and other shit like she was coming back, just packing for vacation. Their tickets are return. They’re set to come back next Sunday.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered, figuring my girl was going to step right into a shit storm when (if) she got off that plane.
Deke slid his hand down to my neck and bent closer to me.
“What I’m sayin’, gypsy, is that good or bad, way it is right now, they got nothing to pin on either of them.”
“Except opportunity and motive,” I pointed out. “And them leaving the country right after the murder.”
“Except that but, baby, that’s dick without any physical evidence or eye witnesses. And those tickets were not purchased on the fly and they aren’t one-way. They could say their vacation was planned.”
“Caswell is linked to Bianca and me,” I reminded him. “And his dead body was found in Anca’s apartment.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “But just because she’s got motive doesn’t mean they can do shit about it. Deck says at this point, they don’t even have enough to do anything but bring her in for questioning. She got bored, she could walk right out. They have nothing on either of them to hold them. As far as the registers go, your friend doesn’t own a gun and never did. It’s suspicious a known associate she owed money got dead in her apartment but that’s all it is. By the time they get back, they’ll have their stories straight, their alibis tight, and my guess, you’ll hear from your girl who’s clean and healthy and with a guy who does it for her. He’s just a sharp-dressed man who’s way the fuck dirty.”