Gone

CHAPTER 77

Emily and I immediately took out our guns.

“What is this? What’s going on in there? Tomás, are you OK? What’s going on in there? Open this door!”

“This is a police interview!” I yelled as I ripped the door open behind my gun. “Put your hands up now!”

I was surprised when I saw that the shocked-looking man standing in the doorway wasn’t a Hispanic gangbanger but a petite Asian guy wearing golf clothes and Clark Kent glasses.

“How dare you point a gun at me! I’m Terrence Che, Mr. Neves’s lawyer. Now, I demand that you tell me what’s going on this instant!”

“They’re framing me, is what’s going on!” Neves yelled. “They’re framing me, Terrence!”

Diaz rolled his eyes. “Shit,” he mumbled as he reluctantly uncuffed Tomás.

“Who are you people? Why are you harassing my client?” Che said as I put my gun away.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” Diaz said, handing the lawyer the wet bar of cellophane-wrapped soap as he gently pushed him to the side.

“And wouldn’t you know it? We’re late for a meeting,” Emily said as we exited the room.

“Wait, I’m not done with you. This is illegal,” the feisty, pocket-sized lawyer said, following us down the stairs, into the garage. “You can’t just go around assaulting people. What’s your badge number?”

“Oh, my badge number,” Diaz said, turning and giving him the finger. “LAPD Badge Number One. Got it? Super. Bye, now.”

“Well, that went well,” Emily said as we screeched out of the lot, hopefully before the lawyer could get the plates.

“It did go well, actually,” Diaz said, lazing in the backseat.

“What do you mean? What did Tomás say to you?”

“He said, ‘Please, man. Don’t do this. He’ll kill my family.’ ”

“So Tomás does know something,” Parker said.

Diaz nodded.

“Apparently,” he said.