The Competition

57

Shane rolled his head and stretched his neck. “You can take the cuffs off, guys. I’m obviously not going anywhere.”

He did look uncomfortable. But I was fresh out of sympathy for gunrunners. “Who’s your connect?”

Shane stared straight ahead. “Internet.”

He might as well have been wearing a neon sign that said I’M GOING TO LIE NOW.

“Let me help you with those cuffs.” I walked around behind his chair and held up my hand to Bailey for the key. She tossed it to me with a smirk. I unlocked the cuffs. Then ratcheted them down two notches tighter and relocked them. Shane let out a yelp of pain. “Not much better, huh? Sorry ’bout that.”

I walked back around and faced him. “Let’s try that again. Who’s your connect?”

Shane lifted his head defiantly. “I told you, I buy my guns on the Internet.”

“Is that right? Then why’d you burn off all the registration numbers?” That was a separate charge unto itself, and I could file one for each gun. Shane’s sentence could add up to serious double digits real fast.

“That’s how they were when I bought ’em.”

I stared at him. “Seriously, what makes you think I’ll believe such obvious horseshit? Because I’m female?” I folded my arms. “Or is it just that you’re that bad at lying?” Shane opened his mouth to protest. “No. Stop it. We don’t have time for this nonsense. That kid you called a maniac is out there planning his next massacre at this very moment. So start talking, and this time, go with the truth.”

Shane squirmed in his handcuffs, trying to find a comfortable position. I could’ve told him not to bother. When I first joined the DA’s office, I asked a bailiff to cuff me to one of the chairs at counsel table so I could feel what it was like. He was happy to oblige. And then he and the clerk took off for lunch. Such funny, funny guys. For the next hour, I tried to wriggle my way out of them. I learned two things that day: those cuffs are damned uncomfortable and never trust a bailiff.

Shane tried to flex his shoulders, but the electrical cord didn’t leave him any room to move. “You can’t do this. It’s gotta be, like, against the law.”

“That’s cute. A lesson on the law. From the man who sold illegal weapons to a minor. Do you know how many years you’ll get just for bringing those assault rifles into California? Let alone for selling them to a kid? And then we can talk about burning off the serial numbers. By the time I get done stacking up all the charges, you’ll be facing close to a hundred years. And trust me, there isn’t a judge in the county who won’t max you out. Know why? Because you’re going to be Public Enemy Number Three. Right behind the two shooters. They couldn’t have done it without you, and I’ll make sure no one forgets it. In fact, some might even believe you knew that’s what Logan planned all along. That makes you a coconspirator. So tell me, who do you think is going to give a shit that your cuffs are too tight?”

“Coconspirator! You’ve got to be kidding me. I didn’t know!” He looked from me to Bailey to Todd. “I didn’t! You’ve got to believe me!”

“Actually, we might. But I can’t speak for anyone else. Probably another DA will handle your case. And if they decide to charge you with conspiracy and you wind up in front of a jury? Conservatively speaking, I’d say you’re toast. Try to imagine how badly they’re going to want to string up anyone who so much as gave Logan directions to the bathroom. Now imagine how they’ll feel about the guy who gave him the guns.” Shane was shaking his head. “You paying attention? It’s important you stay with me here, because I’m talking about hundreds of counts of conspiracy to commit murder and attempted murder.”

Shane’s breath was coming fast and shallow now. “I didn’t know shit! They can’t convict me!”

“Well of course they can. And my guess is they will. They’ll bury you so deep you’ll still be in prison when you reincarnate. So you can talk now and buy yourself a little goodwill. Or you can keep fucking with me and roll the dice with the twelve-headed monster. Your choice.”

Shane shook his head slowly. “I can’t tell you. I’ll be dead.”

“Oh, please, Priscilla, spare us the drama. You’ll be plenty safe. You didn’t think we were just going to take a statement from you and let you trot on home?” I shook my head. “You’re going down for those gun sales no matter what-”

“You think they can’t get to me in prison?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Shane pressed his lips together. His face looked pinched.

“We’ll make sure you’re housed in a safe place. Maybe federal custody. Trust me, by the time you finish your sentence, they’ll have forgotten all about you.”

Shane dropped his head and sagged in his chair for several long moments. No one said a word. Finally, he cleared his throat. His voice was a hoarse whisper. “You got my cell?”

Bailey held it up. “Give me the name.”

“Jax. Jax Esposito.”

Bailey started to scroll through his contacts. “How’d you meet him?”

“At a gun show. He had a couple of guns that needed fixing. I fixed them and he paid me in cash on the spot. After that, he asked me if I wanted to help him get rid of some extra inventory. I thought, what the hell? Sell a few guns here and there, but man, I had no idea. Crates of the shit.”

“What kind of guns?”

“All kinds. You name it, he had it. Rifles, shotguns, AKs, revolvers, semi-autos. Dude even had a flamethrower. It was crazy.”

“So how did you wind up buying enough to make a living?” Bailey asked.

“Because I wound up providing…extra services. He was looking for a drug connection in the States-”

“The States?” I asked. “Where’s he from?”

“Mexico.”

“And he was looking to buy?” Bailey asked.

“No, to sell.”

“What kind of drugs?” I asked.

“Weed, yayo. I think pills too, but I’m not a hundred percent. Drugs aren’t my thing.” I raised an eyebrow. “Anymore.”

“Yayo?” Todd asked.

“Cocaine,” Bailey said. “Slang, taken from the Spanish word for ice, hielo.”

“So what was the deal?” I asked.

“I’d hook him up with a buyer in the States and he’d give me a sweet deal on guns.”

“Sweet enough to let you resell for a fat profit.”

Shane nodded. “I’ve been saving up to buy a place in Camarillo. I’ve almost got enough for a little two-bedroom near the airport.”

“Had, Shane,” I said. “You mean had.” Shane sank in his chair and nodded. “How did Logan meet up with this Jax guy?”

“How’d you know he met Jax?”

Because Logan and his buddy had dropped the assault rifles Shane sold them at the school. Because they’d had two more when they did the theater shooting. Which meant Logan had to have bought two more after the Fairmont shooting. If Shane was telling the truth and he hadn’t sold Logan any more guns, then Logan had to have had his own connection. And being a Valley boy, as opposed to the son of a Mafia don or Yakuza oyabun, his opportunities to find gun connections were pretty limited. “Just answer the question. How did Logan meet this guy?”

“The first time I met up with Jax to make the exchange-”

“Guns for you, the name of a buyer for him,” Bailey said.

Shane nodded. “I was nervous. I mean, I’d done some repair work for the guy, but this time we were making a deal, and it was pretty big, so I wanted backup. Someone else around just in case…”

In case Jax decided to take the name and blow Shane off-or blow him away. “You brought Logan,” I said.

“Yeah. Logan knew about my gun business already so I wasn’t worried about him going to the cops or anything. Plus, he was real tall, and with shades on he looked older-and kind of scary.” Shane stopped and shook his head. Even he couldn’t miss the irony of that statement.

“Weren’t you worried Logan might cut you out? Get rid of the middleman and make his own deals with Jax?”

“Of course. That’s why I never left them alone.”

“Never? Your back was never turned? Logan never had a second to slip Jax his phone number, or vice versa?”

Shane frowned. “No…well, I guess I can’t say for sure.”

Bailey and I exchanged a look. Logan was a lot smarter than this nimrod. Plus, he knew that he’d need to restock his arsenal after the school shooting and wouldn’t be able to go back to Shane. “Whose idea was it to bring Logan to that meeting with Jax?”

“Uh, mine. And his. I told him I was about to score the guns he wanted but that I needed some backup, because the guy was kind of shady.”

“And Logan said he could be that backup.”

Shane nodded. “Yeah.”

I inclined my head-Get it?

He expelled a long breath and turned his head away as he muttered, “Fucker played me.”

Big-time. I took Shane’s phone from Bailey and looked at the entry for Jax. The area code was for Riverside, a few hours south of La Conchita. “You know what, Shane? You need more guns. And right away.”