White Sister

Chapter 10.

FIVE MINUTES LATER, Tommy Sepulveda and Raphael Figueroa were in the living room. Two sets of angry cop eyes pinned me. While they glared, Stacy Maluga shouted accusations through porcelain-capped teeth.

"He was going through our stuff," she brayed. "I leave the room to see where Wayne and KZ be at, an' when I come back this motherfucker's searching through my picture albums. Stuff in books that ain't open an' in direct line of sight is protected from illegal searches without warrants or probable cause. And you ain't got no warrant. This here's an illegal search." She sure knew her Fourth Amendment.

"You want my side of it?" I said.

"No," Tommy said.

Lou Maluga was under control now, standing by the bar, uncapping a beer. His brown eyes looked sleepy, the craziness tucked safely out of sight.

"Let's go," Rafie said to me. "Tommy will take their statements. You and I are going to talk about this outside."

Rafie crossed the room and took my arm. What is it about bodybuilders that makes them think it's okay to put their hands on you and yank you around?

"Rafie, you need to hear me out. These people are directly involved in Alexa's disappearance and Slade's murder and I think I can prove it."

"Let's go. We're doing this out front."

Sepulveda stayed with the Malugas, while Rafie and I made the long walk down the drive to the car. No cart this time, but Wayne and KZ followed us, driving the miniature Rolls-Royce fifty feet behind, making sure we left the grounds.

When we got through the front gate, Wayne closed it on us and turned the cart around, heading back to the house. Rafie led me over to his maroon Crown Vic. The car was still warm from their drive up here. Rafie opened the back door and shoved me inside.

"Stop pushing me around, will you? Next time you grab me and yank on me like that, get your hands up, 'cause I'm tired a your shit," taking my frustration out on him, even though he'd done nothing but play by the rules. I was the one who was way out of line, but I was stressed and not thinking straight.

"Don't you think I get it, man?" Rafie said. "If my wife was missing like this, I'd probably be running around doing the same things you are. But what are me and Tom supposed to do? Should we just stand back and watch while you rip up and flush half the criminal code? This is a high-profile murder case. Tomorrow we're gonna be up to our necks in media. If there is evidence in that house, you just blew it with an illegal search. You know who that guy in there is?"

"Yeah. Lou Maluga. Some ex-con rap producer. I've read about him. He's not a player anymore. Since he got out of prison, he can't even get a CD distributed."

"Lou Maluga is CEO of Lethal Force, Inc. It's a huge rap label. And you're wrong, this guy is not out of it. He's got a pile of money and throws big fund-raisers for charity. He's put a lot of dough into politics. Real tight with U. S. Congresswoman Roxanne Sharp. I've run six cases on this guy. I know what the score is with this crowd. When people mess with the Malugas, people tend to disappear."

"So because they've got dough, they get to kill David Slade, maybe kidnap or kill my wife, and we can't say anything?"

"If you keep violating their rights and threatening them, you're gonna get hit by so much paper you're gonna think it's raining affidavits. So calm down."

"Okay, okay. I'm calming down." I took a deep breath. "Since you've worked this bunch, tell me about KZ and Wayne. Who are those two guys?"

"KZ is a Crip drug dealer turned bodyguard from Compton. He's a hitter. His yellow sheet is impressive because every witness to ever point him out didn't live to testify. The other guy, I don't know much about. Wayne Watkins. They call him Insane Wayne. He's new. The bimbo in the pink terrycloth robe is Stacy Maluga. She's Lou's estranged wife and the president of his record label. They're still married, but two months back, she filed for separation. Lou got himself some fresh trim, a hot-looking woman named Sable Miller. Before I had to pull my bugs out of his beach house, it sounded like they were thinking about getting married soon. Lou lives behind the gates in the Malibu colony. Stacy's got this place, which will give you an idea of what a tough, hard-nosed piece of work she is."

"She was having an affair with David Slade," I said.

"Prove it."

"There's a picture in there of the two of them, all wrapped around each other, swappin' spit."

"And your theory is what? That Lou Maluga shot David Slade because Slade was messin' around with his estranged wife who he doesn't even live with anymore?"

"It's been known to happen," I said, wondering if I had such a good theory here after all.

"These people don't play by the same rules you do, Shane."

I didn't say it, but I knew there were no rules for me anymore.

"Just try and answer two questions if you can," Rafie finally said.

"Okay."

"How did this all end up in Alexa's car and, assuming that Astra nine is Alexa's, why was Slade shot with her gun?"

"I don't know yet. But you tell me what an LAPD sergeant was doing screwing around with a gangsta rap producer's estranged wife. There's something here."

"Yeah, and a third-year law student could suppress everything you've turned up so far."

"Alexa didn't kill David Slade. And before I'm through, I'll prove it."

"You're not going anywhere. Put your hands out. I'm cuffing you to this floor ring back here."

"You and Sepulveda can play around with these Gs all night for all I care. I'm out!"

I pushed my way out of the backseat, stood, and Rafie rose up with me. We were now facing each other outside the Crown Vic. He was big and fit and obviously trusted his moves. For a moment, I saw something in his eyes that told me this was about to go physical.

"Don't do it, Raf," I said. "You and I have known each other ten years. I need some slack here. I'm asking for some understanding."

His hand moved, then fell to his side. He didn't want this any more than I did.

"I'm filing that one-eighty-one," he finally said.

"You know what? I think that's a good idea. It will cover you and Tommy with the dick squad at PSB."

Then I turned and walked to my car and got in. He watched me go. As I drove off, he shook his head and said something.

I'm not much of a lip reader, but it looked like, "Good luck, man."