Illegal

SIXTY-TWO

Exhausted by an endless day that began at Wanda the Whale's stash house in the desert, continued with gunfire in Hellhole Canyon, and concluded in the heart of the San Joaquin Valley, Jimmy and Tino checked into the Rutledge Arms Hotel.

Jimmy ordered from room service. Pork chops for Tino with mashed potatoes, onion rings, applesauce, and a chocolate milk shake. Payne crashed, leaving a burger half-uneaten. He fell asleep watching the news on a Sacramento station, then awoke at three a.m. to find the kid engrossed in porn on the pay channel. Jimmy gave him hell, then watched a few minutes of action between a pizza delivery boy and a bored housewife. He dozed off again just as Tino said, " Buenos noches, Himmy."

They slept until nearly noon.

"Where we going?" Tino asked as Jimmy got out of the shower.

" I'm going to the police station. You're going to the Rialto to see Indiana Jones and his Kingdom of Goofy Plots."

"No way, Jose. We're a team."

Payne tried to give the kid a stern look. Tino responded the way a sixth grader treats a substitute teacher who demands quiet. He laughed.

"C'mon, Himmy. You know I'll just show up at the police station, anyway."

Payne had expected an old-fashioned courthouse in the town square, something built of sturdy limestone by the Civil Works Administration in the 1930s. The police station and coroner's office would be a block away in nondescript brick buildings.

Instead, the Municipal Center stood on the edge of town, a series of modern one-story buildings with brown shingle roofs. Courtyards bloomed with roses and rhododendrons. A fountain generated a stream that meandered from the Zoning Department past the City Commission Chambers, toward the Police Department.

Jimmy and Tino crossed a wooden footbridge that arched gracefully over the stream. They followed flagstone steps through a rock garden planted with bonsai trees. It looked like a dandy place for afternoon tea.

They found Police Chief Javier Cardenas sitting on a redwood bench along the stream, chewing a sandwich. A handsome man in his mid-thirties, he had a cocoa complexion so smooth it appeared he'd just shaved and slapped on cologne. Dark hair fashionably cut. Black trousers and a crisply pressed white shirt with epaulets and a gold badge.

"I hear you two caused a stir over at the Rutledge office yesterday," the chief said, even before Payne introduced himself.

"Not our fault," Payne replied. "They treat strangers like weevils in a cotton field."

"Next time that cabron with the fuzzy lip grabs me, I'll kick him in the cojones, " Tino said.

"Quiet, Tino," Payne said. "Chief, don't you think it's suspicious they guard the place like it's the Pentagon?"

"Nothing suspicious about it," Cardenas said. "The Patriot Patrol put a price on Simeon's head, so the company beefed up security." Cardenas took a bite of his sandwich. Bacon, lettuce, and tomato on whole wheat. "Now, why don't you tell me what you need, Mr. Payne? It is Mr. J. Atticus Payne of Van Nuys, correct?"

"Ay, he's messing with you, Himmy," Tino said.

"Yeah, I'm Jimmy Payne. And I'm trying to help this boy find his mother." He summarized the story of Marisol becoming sepa rated from her son and as much as he knew of her harrowing crossing and the two stash houses she'd passed through.

"So you want to file a missing persons report?" the chief asked.

"She's not exactly missing. More like she's working for Simeon Rutledge but his people won't let me get to her."

"Working for my tio Sim?"

Payne felt as if he'd been sucker-punched. "You're shitting me. Rutledge is your uncle?"

An easy smile. The guy had a politician's set of teeth.

"Not a blood uncle," Cardenas said. "More like my godfather. It's a long story."

Tino nudged Payne in the ribs. "And you gabachos say Mexico is all dirty politics."

"Why do I feel like I'm playing a road game?" Payne said to the chief.

"More like you're the Washington Generals and you're playing the Harlem Globetrotters," Cardenas said.

"So how the hell can you investigate Rutledge's business?"

"Didn't know it needed investigating. Did I mention Tio Sim bought me my first gun and my first car?"

"What about your badge? He buy that, too?"

Cardenas let out a soft train whistle of a sigh. "You work hard to get under people's skin, don't you, Mr. Payne?"

"Nah. It just comes naturally."

The chief was silent a moment. He seemed to be figuring out what to do with his unwelcome visitors. Then he gestured with his sandwich. "You want a B.L.T., Mr. Payne? And what about you, young man? Donna over in Planning and Zoning made a bunch today."

"No thanks," Payne said.

"Me, neither," Tino said.

It was the first time Payne ever saw the boy turn down food.

"Suit yourselves. But it's mighty good. Rutledge lettuce. Rutledge tomatoes. Bacon from Rutledge hogs. All courtesy of Tio Sim."

"All Rutledge, all the time," Payne said. "You're sending a message, right?"

The chief's smile gleamed like the blade of a knife. "If that's what I wanted, I'd lock you up right now on all those outstanding warrants."

That stopped Payne, who took a moment to think it through. Once Rutledge learned about the cluster fuck in Hellhole Canyon, he would have wanted a dossier on J. Atticus Payne, Esquire. Enter Cardenas, who had to do something to earn his bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes.

"You're a one-man crime wave, Mr. Payne. Grand larceny in L.A. County. Resisting arrest and assaulting an officer in Imperial County. Importing drugs from Mexico into San Diego County."

"The drug rap's bogus," Payne said.

"And that cop," Tino said. " I'm the one who resisted and assaulted."

"So why aren't you gonna arrest me?" Payne demanded.

"And deal with all that paperwork?" Cardenas said. "Three different jurisdictions fighting over your sorry butt." The chief let his eyes twinkle. "I'd miss the County Fair over in Hanford."

"But if Rutledge told you to do it, you'd throw my sorry butt in jail."

The chief laughed, showing those good teeth. "Mr. Payne, you and Sim are more alike than you realize. You both overlook the fine print of the law. Hell, you overlook the large print. And you both go out of your way to help people."

"No, I don't. And I doubt he does."

"Don't be modest. Sim respects what you're doing for the boy. So do I."

"But you refuse to help."

"What makes you say that? I arranged lunch for you tomorrow with Sim."

"No way."

"He might try to poison you, Himmy," Tino said.

"Happens on telenovelas all the time."

"Sim said he'll have his people do everything they can to find the boy's mother. He'll have a report for you by lunchtime tomorrow."

"Great," Payne said, not sure he believed the chief. "Sorry about what I said before."

"Not a problem. There's one more thing Sim said. What was it, now?"

"Yeah?"

"Oh, I remember." The chief's smile turned sly. "He said, 'Javie, ask that persistent little pissant if he likes sheep balls in coyote gravy.' "