Bullseye (8 page)

“You got it.” A loud, satisfied sigh sounded through the speaker. “There’s your connection.”

Mason’s finger tapped a yellow spot on the tablecloth while he digested the information Brent had unearthed. The pieces were all present, but there were so many layers it was hard to make sense of the whole.

After a moment Brent’s voice broke the silence. “Listen, it’s after midnight here and I have an eight o’clock meeting in the morning. Do you need anything else from me?”

Mason jerked out of his musing. “No. You’ve been a big help. Thanks, dude. I owe you.”

Laughter sounded through the speaker. “You sure do. I had to cut short an evening with my gorgeous wife to play computer jock for you. But don’t worry. I’ll find a way for you to return the favor someday.”

“I’m sure you will.” Mason grinned as he disconnected the call. He was so fortunate to have a guy like Brent as a F.A.S.T. partner, and especially as a friend.

Karina placed folded hands on the table and leaned forward toward him. “I don’t understand the purpose of all those companies. Why doesn’t Maddox just have one corporation that owns everything?”

“Distance,” Mason answered. “He isn’t hiding the fact that he’s involved in them, but to know it, someone would have to dig for it.”

She shook her head, confusion creasing her forehead. “But why?”

He pursed his lips, his brain busily trying to come up with reasons. Maddox was involved in something illegal, of that he was certain. But he’d been certain four years ago, too. Then it had been a hunch. Now he had a little more to go on, but not much.

There were only two reasons to put so many layers between an owner and a business operation. First, to lengthen the connection. If his name was not easily associated with a business, then he wouldn’t be immediately held responsible by public opinion if something went wrong. An accusation of food poisoning, maybe, or a dispute with a renter. If a highly visible person like Maddox was identified as the owner, the press would be all over even an insignificant situation and turn it into a circus. The information was there, a matter of public record, but someone would have to do research to find it.

The only other reason Mason could think of was to share blame if something went wrong. If he had a couple of partners in every corporation, there were a lot of people Maddox could point his finger at, people who had far more day-to-day dealings with managing the businesses.

Karina waited patiently, her expression expectant.

“I can think of only two reasons,” he finally said. “And both of them point to some sort of illegal activity.” He rubbed a hand across his mouth, shaking his head. “The problem is, I have no idea what.”

ELEVEN

A
t nine-fifteen on Wednesday morning, a knock sounded on Karina’s door. Nerves taut after a long and anxious night during which she’d jumped at every noise in the area surrounding her apartment, she lifted a slat on the mini-blind and peeked outside. The sight of Mason’s rental car should have relieved her. Instead her temper flared. He was forty-five minutes late.

She swung the door open with one hand, the other planted on her hip, and greeted him with a glare. His pleasant expression wilted the moment he caught sight of her face.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“You said you’d be here at eight-thirty.” The words ground out through gritted teeth.

He lifted a shoulder, obviously unconcerned. “Sorry. I overslept.” The insolent smirk he’d worn much of yesterday returned. “You can deduct an hour from the generous fee you’re paying me.”

Of course he would take the opportunity to remind her that he was doing her a favor. Her temper flared beyond the point of control.

“I should have remembered what I used to do. If I wanted you to be on time, I’d tell you to be there an hour earlier.”

“And I should have remembered what a foul temper you have early in the morning.”

The comment stirred her irritation even further, but while she was trying to come up with an appropriately scathing reply, her phone rang. She swung the door open wider and left him to close it while she headed for the kitchen and her phone. During the short distance, her conscience raised its head. Mason was right. Mornings were not her favorite time of the day. Never had been. Especially after she’d spent the entire night expecting a huge, scary man to kick her door down and murder her in her own home.

But that wasn’t Mason’s fault. Why did he seem to bring out the worst in her? He really was doing her a huge favor by flying to Albuquerque at his own expense. The least she could do was act grateful.

Lord, I need Your help here. He’s Your child, and I know You love him. Help me not to want to slap his face every time he gives me that annoying smirk
.

She reached for the phone, but before she pressed the button to answer the call, she cast a quick glance at him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It was a long night.” Without giving him a chance to reply, she pressed the button. “Hello?”

An unfamiliar voice on the other end. Male. “Is this Karina Guerrero?” Though there was no hint of an accent in his English, her name rolled off the man’s tongue with all the appropriate emphasis, as only someone fluent in Spanish would do.

“Yes, it is.”

The high, thin voice continued. “Ms. Guerrero, my name is Hector Navarro. I’m an attorney, and I’ve been assigned to your brother’s case.”

Hope washed away any residual irritation. She whirled and caught Mason’s eye as she answered. “Yes, Mr. Navarro. I’m so glad Judge Carter finally assigned my brother an attorney.”

Mason’s eyebrows arched, and she awarded him an excited smile.

“The juvenile court dockets are overflowing, so it sometimes takes a while.” She heard papers shuffle in the background. “I understand you are Alexander’s legal guardian?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ve been reading over his file, and I’d like to go down and talk to him this morning. Because he’s a minor, I’ll need you to either be present or give me permission to speak with him alone.”

She glanced at the clock on the microwave. The morning traffic should be winding down by now. “I can be there by ten.”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you there.”

The call ended. She cupped the phone in her hand and spoke to Mason. “We’re supposed to meet him at juvy in forty minutes.”

He made a show of looking at his watch. “Gee, looks like I’m right on time, huh?”

That comment would have irritated her ninety seconds before, but now she was able to smile. The situation suddenly didn’t look so dire. Finally Alex would have legal representation, someone to help them prove his innocence.

“Let me grab my purse.”

* * *

Mason parked the car in a space directly in front of the building. He glanced at the place where the black Impala sedan had sat yesterday. Hopefully the goon wouldn’t risk a second attempt in broad daylight, especially in front of a row of windows with police officers on the other side.

His call to Parker on the way to Karina’s house this morning hadn’t been very enlightening. Parker hadn’t been to work yet, so he didn’t know anything about the car fire.

“What have you stepped in, buddy?” his old partner had asked.

“I don’t know, but it sure stinks. It looks like your 411 about gang activity is accurate, no matter what Karina thinks.”

“The family is always the last to know,” Parker had replied. “I’ll check the report, ask a few questions and give you a call back. In the meantime, stay low, okay?”

“You know it.”

Mason had hung up feeling better about their chances of discovering something helpful. Parker was a terrific ally, with access to information Mason could never get on his own. Not anymore, anyway.

He hadn’t mentioned Maddox to his former partner, though. He’d started to, but something had stopped him. A hesitation down deep. Four years ago, Mason had been positive that Maddox was somehow responsible for Margie’s death. Parker had remained unconvinced, and had even gently suggested that Mason was letting his personal situation interfere with his judgment. Well, yeah. Who wouldn’t? Try though he might, he could never convince Parker of Maddox’s involvement. If he brought the guy’s name up now, Parker would probably think he was simply nursing a grudge.

Heck, maybe he was. But it was a grudge based on gut instinct, and he intended to dig up some hard facts before he said a word against the person who was arguably the most powerful man in New Mexico.

And who knew? If he could tie Maddox to José’s death, he might uncover something about Margie’s death as well.

A man stood just on the other side of the metal detector, watching dispassionately as they passed through the frame. Mason took his mettle at a glance. Young, probably barely out of law school. Short, slender, and dressed in a dark gray suit one size too big for him. The jacket cuffs brushed his knuckles, and the hem of his trousers lay wrinkled atop his polished black shoes like an elephant’s ankles.

A rookie. What else?

Mason schooled his expression as he emptied his pockets into a white plastic bowl, then followed Karina through the frame that looked like a doorway to nowhere.

“Ms. Guerrero?” the young guy asked, a polite and faintly dispassionate expression on his face.

“Yes.” Karina’s answer was pathetically eager. “Mr. Navarro?”

“Call me Hector.” He offered a slender hand, which she shook. Then his polite gaze fixed on Mason. “And you are?”

“Mason Sinclair. A friend of the family.” Mason attempted to shake the man’s hand, but instead found his fingers encased in a delicate grip, his hand shaken once and then released.

Mason disliked him instantly.

A polite smile tightened the man’s thin lips. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to wait outside while I speak with Ms. Guerrero and Alexander.”

Karina rushed in. “It’s okay. Mason is a close family friend, and I’ve asked him to sit in on our conversation.”

The news appeared to hit Navarro like a lead pipe upside the head, but he managed to contain himself. His gaze flicked toward Mason’s face, but never quite connected. “All right. If you say so.”

With that he turned and headed toward the doorway, beyond which lay the visiting rooms.

What a jerk. He doesn’t want me around because he’s afraid of being caught out as an amateur.

Mason managed a confident smile for Karina, and gestured for her to follow the attorney.

They were led to a different room than the day before, identical to the other even down to the plastic chairs. The guard let them in and left them alone for a few minutes. Then another guard brought Alex in. Mason and Hector averted their eyes while Karina, crying quietly, embraced her brother.

Then they broke apart and Alex gave Mason a guarded, jerky nod of greeting.

Karina looped a hand through her brother’s arm and tugged him toward the lawyer. “Alex, this is Mr. Navarro, your attorney.”

The kid towered over the little man, and Mason bit back a smug grin at the way Navarro had to tilt his head back to look the fourteen-year-old in the face. He couldn’t help notice that Hector gave Alex’s hand the same smarmy little four-
fingered shake.

The attorney took immediate charge and pointed toward a chair pushed beneath the table. “Have a seat, please. I have several other clients to meet with, so I’d like to get on with this.”

Get on with this.
Mason clamped his teeth together on a sarcastic reply about brusque public defenders who don’t bill their clients by the hour. He selected a seat across the table from Karina and Alex, and scooted the chair away from the table to create a distance between himself and the others. In this conversation he’d be an observer, not a participant. After all, he wasn’t here in any official capacity.

Hector set his briefcase on the floor and fished a slender folder out, which he opened on the table in front of him. Then he extracted a spiral-bound notebook, the kind kids bought at a department store for twenty cents apiece during the back-to-school sale, opened it to a clean page and poised a pen above it, ready to write.

“Alex, I’ve read the police report, but I’d like you to tell me what happened last Friday night.”

Haltingly Alex recounted the same tale he’d given Mason the day before. Exactly the same, even using the same phrases and words.

Almost as if he’d rehearsed it. Interesting
.

Mason steepled his fingers and held them in front of his mouth, his chin resting on his thumbs, and studied the kid as he talked. Though the delivery was a little smoother today—he’d had a couple of chances to grow comfortable with the tale, after all—it was still obvious to him that Alex was lying right up to the part where he insisted he didn’t kill his friend.

Throughout the entire monologue the attorney never looked up from his note taking. His pen hurried across the paper leaving a scribbled trail of blue ink. Three full pages of it.

He’s recording Alex’s story word-for-word
.

For some reason that irritated Mason even further. Though it made perfect sense to take notes rather than record a session with a client and risk someone getting hold of the tape, the guy was missing half the conversation. Even people who hadn’t been trained in interrogation techniques understood about body language, didn’t they? Seventy percent of a person’s meaning was relayed through nonverbal means. Facial expressions, the position of the hands, the way someone’s shoulders were angled either toward or away from the person they were talking to—those all said far more than words, even to an untrained eye.

Not only was Alex’s body sending some contradictory messages, but Hector’s body was practically screaming. It was saying, “Yeah, whatever. I don’t really care what you say, and I’m not paying much attention. I’ll do the job I’ve been paid to do, but don’t expect me to get personally involved.”

By the time Alex finished, his arms were folded tightly across his chest and he had scooted around in his chair until his back was pressed against the hard plastic to put as much distance between the attorney and himself as possible.
He doesn’t trust him. Smart kid.
Beside him, Karina watched the scribbling pen with an almost trancelike stare.

Navarro kept writing for almost a minute after Alex finished, then set his pen down. He finally looked up into his client’s face. “All right. I’ll contact the district attorney’s office and find out how they’re going to proceed. Then we’ll make plans from there.” He tore the pages from the spiral notebook, laid them in the folder, and closed the flimsy cardboard cover.

Karina sat upright in her chair. “Wait a minute. That’s it?” Her head turned to glance at Alex for a second, and then back to the lawyer. “What are we going to do
now?
”

Hector slid the folder back into his briefcase and answered without looking at her. “I told you. I’ll speak with someone at the D.A.’s office and we’ll figure it out from there.”

“But does Alex have to stay here? What about bail or something?”

“We can’t even ask the judge for a bail hearing until he gets more information from the D.A.” The man got to his feet. “I promise I’ll get in touch with you soon. Hopefully by the end of the week.”

“The end of the
week?
” She cast a glance across the table at Mason, though what she expected him to do, he couldn’t imagine. Much as he hated to admit it, the guy was right. The judge wouldn’t release a kid with suspected gang involvement without knowing more details. Still, Navarro could pretend to be more sympathetic, the little jerk.

Mason didn’t bother to get to his feet, though Karina and Alex did. Looking shell-shocked and a lot younger than he had ten minutes before, Alex let his attorney shake his fingers.

“Alexander, I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to move this along as quickly as possible. In the meantime, the best thing you can do is be cooperative and get along with everyone here. If you cause trouble, word will get back to the judge.” He paused and waited for Alex to look at him. It was the first time Mason had seen the little weasel look the kid in the face. “Do exactly as you’re told and everything will work out okay. Do you understand?”

Though the advice to get along and be cooperative here was sound and completely logical, Mason was surprised by Alex’s reaction. He jerked back like he’d been slapped, eyes suddenly round. The pair exchanged a long, weighty stare before the kid nodded.

Interesting.
Something had just happened between the two, a private communication of some kind. Mason rested his elbows on the plastic arms of his chair, his mind busy.

Navarro waved at the window and the guard on the other side hefted himself out of the chair to open the door. The
lawyer started to move toward it, then stopped suddenly as though he’d just remembered something.