Illegal

EIGHTY-TWO

Wired and edgy, Sharon believed it would be a sleepless night. She was holed up with a twelve-year-old boy in the hotel room. Jimmy was out there in the dark somewhere, playing lumberjack with some old peach trees.

Trespass.

Malicious mischief.

Destruction of property.

And just maybe, getting a young woman and himself killed.

She hadn't been able to talk him out of it.

Foolish. Reckless. Dangerous. Pure Payne.

Her job tonight was to keep Tino safe. They had talked for hours, the boy chattering about going to a Dodgers game with Jimmy and enrolling in some school Jimmy had picked out, and Jimmy somehow getting them immigration papers, even if he had to fudge the truth a little.

Jimmy. Jimmy. Jimmy.

Tino was the president of the Jimmy Payne Fan Club. Maybe its sole member. The boy worshiped him. But would he still, after tonight? What if Jimmy didn't rescue Marisol? What if his actions led to her death? Sharon couldn't help but think of all the horrible possibilities.

Tino couldn't sleep, either. Together they watched television. Sharon made microwave popcorn. In typical male fashion, the boy asked for the remote, then hop-scotched through the channels. Just like his hero.

Sharon couldn't keep her mind on the programs. Jay Leno's jokes seemed duller than usual. Sports Center 's nightly baseball clips all looked the same. Tino clicked through one channel after another, settling on a shopping network that sold diamond rings for thirty-nine dollars.

Tino stared into space, his attention wavering. Sharon could only guess what fears plagued him tonight.

Then he surprised her. Without warning or prelude, he said softly, "Himmy told me what happened. To your son."

"Oh."

"Himmy's really messed up about it."

"I know."

Tino picked up his baseball glove-the one Jimmy bought him-and pounded a ball into the pocket. "Maybe the two of you will get back together. You know, help each other with all that bad stuff."

"Did Jimmy tell you to say that?"

"No way. I just see how he feels about you."

"I'm hoping he'll get over that."

Tino gave her a look. Too serious for a twelve-yearold. "But will you get over him?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you didn't love Himmy, you wouldn't have come up here."

Before she could process that, the door burst open, splintering off its hinges.

Sharon dived for her shoulder holster, slung from the bedpost.

"Freeze!" Rigney in the doorway, aiming his Glock at her.

She obeyed, hands inches from her gun.

Tino jumped out of bed and pivoted like Omar Vizquel at shortstop, sidearming the ball straight into Rigney's chest. The cop howled and staggered a step backward but didn't drop his gun. "Punk! You little punk greaser."

"?Chingate!"

"No, fuck you, kid."

"Put the gun away, Rigney." Sharon glared at him. "Jimmy's not here."

"No shit. He's out playing Paul Bunyan." He gave her a gotcha grin while using his free hand to gingerly touch a rib where the ball had nailed him. Moving toward the bed, he grabbed Sharon's holster from the bedpost.

"What are you doing here?"

"Enforcing the law." He flipped over a badge hanging around his neck. "Duly appointed deputy, named by the chief himself."

Sharon felt like spitting at him. "How much they paying you, Rigney?"

"Take it easy, Detective. I'm saving your ass."

"What about Jimmy? You saving him, too?"

"Your ex is dead meat. But I got nothing to do with that." Rigney turned to Tino. "C'mon, kid. Let's go."

"No fucking way," Tino said.

"Relax. I'm taking you to your mother. The chief's gonna send both of you back to Mexico. With some cash, for all your trouble."

"Is that what Cardenas told you?" Sharon said.

"He's a cop, for Christ's sake. What do you think he's gonna do-kill them?"

"You are so dense, Rigney. Cardenas works for Rutledge."

"So what? Who do you think we work for, the Red Cross? Money buys everything and everyone. Rutledge is no different than the bigwigs in L.A. He just wears cowboy boots instead of Italian suits."

"We're supposed to fight corruption, Rigney."

"Losing battle." He reached into a jacket pocket and tossed a pair of handcuffs to Tino. "Cuff her to the bed frame."

"Chingate," Tino said for the second time.

Rigney grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck and shoved him toward the bed.

"Go ahead, Tino," Sharon said.

Tino hesitated. Rigney clopped him on the side of the head with an open hand. "Now!"

"Do as he says, Tino," Sharon said.

The boy snapped one cuff around Sharon's right wrist, and the other to the metal frame.

Rigney pulled out a roll of duct tape and tore off a piece. "Someday you'll thank me, Detective." Before she could reply, he covered her mouth with the tape. Then he grabbed Tino by the arm and said, "C'mon kid, smile. You're headed to a family reunion."