“Iss,” he began and twisted his lips a few times. “Iss still remembers the sixteen-year-old that told him everything. I’m not that boy anymore.”
“Not that naïve, you mean?” I was hoping he’d grin and remember when he called me that. I was right about the first part.
“Been a long time since I was wet behind the ears, Detective. If I ever was.” He smirked, but it appeared more sad than anything else. “Anyhow, no, I didn’t mean it that way. You’re naïve. Me? I was just taken with Iss. We talked about everything.” He jerked his chin up at me. “What’s he supposed to have done?”
That was my cue to throw a question back, because it was never a good idea to answer that question. Lawyers filed lawsuits for maligning a person’s character. So naturally, I did it anyway. “He’s been charged with human trafficking involving forty-seven Mexican nationals ranging in age from eight to thirty. The feds might add charges when they take over the case. Who was he after?”
“Iss? You’ve got the wrong guy, Detective,” he replied. It was deliberate avoidance of my question.
“Sounds like someone still taken with him.”
“No. I told you I’m that boy anymore. I’m just telling you that Iss isn’t ambitious enough to do anything like that.”
The indifference in his voice was what convinced me he wasn’t a lover trying to defend his boyfriend. “What makes you say that?” The thing that had me intrigued was that there was almost a puzzle piece clicking into place with Peter’s statement. Based on Alvarado’s previous petty arrest history, he didn’t seem capable of running such a complex scheme as human trafficking on his own.
“He didn’t even deal anything stronger than weed or party favors when we were together. And Joe let him hang around after we stopped hooking up. No way he’d even let him in the door here if he was that shady. They were together just a few days before Joe died.” I locked that tidbit of information away. Something about the way Peter looked out the window again almost made me doubt his veracity. Almost.
“What about Terrelle Gaines?” Peter began laughing. I thought that was my answer. I would have been blown away by the way he brightened, but I was too busy computing how our case was going to hell.
“Terrelle? Terrelle shakes down the older trannies because he has zero game. Even the younger boys have kicked his ass. Janine once beat him over the head with her shoe. Chased him down the street hobbling on one high heel and trying to hold her wig on with the other hand. No way would Iss deal with Terrelle other than to beat his ass.”
The problem with this statement was that Terrelle had recently given us several strong leads. He’d developed a trust with Luis and me. And he had given us Alvarado. But I trusted Peter. Probably because I was so fucked in the head right now.
“Why was Joe meeting with Iss?”
“Iss was like me, way back when Joe started on Vice. Joe took him in, tried to set him on the right path.” He tapped my card a few times, read it, and then flipped it again. I waited as he fell silent, trying not to push. Yet. “Joe doesn’t give up. Didn’t. Joe didn’t give up. Even after eighteen years, he still tried with Iss.”
“But you don’t think Iss wouldn’t be into anything big.”
“Iss deals some E, sometimes the new stuff at the clubs, nothing hard. Not ever. Not even meth.” He opened his mouth to add something, but then his lips disappeared behind his teeth.
“There’s something else,” I nudged.
He nearly broke my mind again when his fingers dragged through his hair. My physical response was so intense, my lips parted to expel a harsh breath. Christ, I wanted him. “I told him some of what I heard you say on the phone Saturday.”
Oh, fucking shit hell. “About how Gaines had sold him out?”
“About how he should maybe go away, do nothing for a while. I didn’t mention Terrelle. I just told him not to meet up with anyone.”
I had to ask. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“Why wouldn’t I? There’s been a few assholes here trying to… But most of the cops have been decent. And I liked Joe. He wouldn’t want Iss going down for something he didn’t do. Okay? Now, that’s as much as I know about Iss and anything he’s done. I’m done with all of this, detective. Leave me alone.”
“Give me a name. Someone that might clarify things. If it’s not Iss, then I need someone who is ambitious.”
He was already half out of the booth, but he considered my request as he stood there, flicking my card against his fingers. “I’ll ask around.” I slid out of the booth and caught his wrist as he pushed the doors to the kitchen open. He turned and regarded my hand, then schooled his expression into ice. “I said I’d—”