Blood Money

Chapter Nineteen

Jack took an afternoon ride into Little Havana.

Every available minute after his meeting with Andie had been devoted to legal work for paying clients, but at two P.M. he had a follow-up with Rene, who had promised there was more to the case against BNN. He needed all the ammunition he could get. He took Theo with him, knowing that if he was to stay off the FBI’s “unwanted” list, there should be no more one-on-one meetings with old girlfriends.

Theo drove with his usual disregard for speed limits. They reached San Lazaro’s Cafe fifteen minutes ahead of schedule and grabbed the same table that Jack and Rene had shared, the old map of Cuba right behind Jack’s head. Theo ordered a double espresso. Jack’s adrenaline was already pumping, no need for any more caffeine.

“Where’s Bejucal?” asked Theo, studying the map on the wall.

Bejucal was the birthplace of Jack’s mother. He turned and pointed. “Right outside Havana. I’m impressed you remembered it.”

“Got a history lesson from Abuela the night you were in the emergency room.”

“Really. How did that come up?

“Mostly her carrying on about how the threat against ‘someone you love’ couldn’t possibly mean her.” Theo put on a sad face, speaking in Abuela’s broken English. “Jack no call me. He no visit. Mi vida no love me no more.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. I call her every day.”

Theo chuckled as he stirred a pack of sugar into his cup. Jack loosened his tie, reached inside his collar, and massaged his neck. The bruises were fading, but it still hurt at times.

“You packin’ a Glock these days?” said Theo.

“No.”

“I am. Just give me the word, dude. I’ll find that guy and give him a lot more than a pain in the neck.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Sort of.”

“I’m leaving things to the FBI. For the time being, anyway. But now that you mention it, there is someone I need to track down.”

“Who?”

“This morning I found out that someone actually did hire Celeste Laramore to show up at the detention center looking like Sydney.”

“No shit?”

“Totally serious. I spoke to Ben Laramore on the phone over the lunch hour, and he fully believes that it wasn’t me who hired her. But we agreed that we need to find out who did. I was thinking you could maybe help with that.”

“You want me to interview a girl in a coma?”

“No, moron.”

“Cuz I can do it, you know. Had many a conversation with your ex-wife.”

“Low blow, Theo. There was a guy who flew out of Opa-locka with Sydney. You got any contacts over there?”

“Opa-locka,” Theo said, searching. “A buddy of mine got arrested flying in there from the Bahamas with about two kilos of-”

“That’s not the kind of contact I’m talking about.”

“Actually, it is, dude. Lobo-that’s what we call him. It means ‘wolf.’”

“I know what it means. I speak some Spanish.”

“Not according to your grandmother.”

“Will you back off, please?”

“Anyway, Lobo took the rap himself, refused to cut a deal and testify against a half dozen dudes who worked in baggage. They love him. Even better, they owe him.”

“Could be promising,” said Jack. “See what you can find out.”

“No problem.”

Jack checked his watch. Ten minutes past two. “Hope I’m not being stood up.”

Theo was actually quiet for a minute or two, which Jack savored. Until his cell rang. It was his new iPhone-he’d cut himself loose from the old one and its spyware over the lunch hour-so he almost didn’t recognize the ring tone. But he did immediately recognize the incoming number. It wasn’t entirely rational, but the mere sight of it made Jack feel like a cheater.

“It’s Andie,” he said.

Theo snorted so hard he nearly coughed up his espresso.

“Quiet,” Jack said, and he answered. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

“Thank God you answered,” she said, her voice filled with urgency. “Where are you?”

“Little Havana. Having coffee. Just me and Theo.” Literally true, but the obvious omission made him feel even more like a cheater.

“Get in the car and meet me at the medical examiner’s office.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Listen to me. Don’t stop anywhere or for anyone on the way.”

“Did something happen to Celeste?”

“Don’t even stop at traffic lights if you can avoid them.”

“Damn it! I didn’t think she needed a guard so long as she was in the ICU.”

“Jack, I don’t care if this is your new phone, that’s all I can say on your line.”

Of course it was. Nothing short of surrendering his privacy to the FBI would make an FBI agent trust the security of his phone lines.

“Just go!” said Andie.

“Right,” he said. “I’m on my way.”