Page 36 of There Once was a Dancer
“Monroe, who—”
“I know the valet, sir.” I could hear the tremor in my voice.
“Keep an eye on Castillion until we have the cuffs on him.” Through the scope, I could see Candy moving toward the left side of the car. He’d nearly caught up with Nash who was only ten feet from the rear of the car. When Mars suddenly roared into the coms, everything seemed to happen all at once.
“We’ve been made!” Mars shouted a split second after I saw Castillion reaching into his jacket and pulling out a gun.
“Monroe! Clifford! Take the shot!” Candy ordered. I knew what I had to do. A bullet fired from the rifle in my hand would instantly stop the Peruvian in his tracks. But the way in which I was angled, meant there was a high probability that the high-powered round would pass right through Castillion and into Cachi, standing only a foot away. I froze as Mars squeezed off a round.
The reverberation of the gunshot echoed through the hills as I watched the top of the cartel thug’s head explode. Brains and pieces of skull blew backward and a second later, I was looking atCachi’s beautiful mouth as it opened wide, forming a perfect oval as he was drenched in blood.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as I held my breath, watching Castillion’s body hit the ground. Cachi reached up to cover his face with both hands, and Agent Steele, drew his weapon, pointing it at the vehicle’s other occupants as my team converged on the scene.
Patsy and Napoleon rushed for the drivers of two more vehicles idling behind Castillion’s car, pulling them out and forcing them to the ground, checking them for weapons. Agent Wallace stood next to the guard kiosk, boot on the neck of Castillion’s driver who lay with his face pressed into the asphalt driveway. Two other cars who’d been in the left turn lane immediately reversed and tore down Roscomare Road at a high rate of speed. Someone—I don’t know who—was yelling into a radio that the FBI needed LAPD backup and an airship.
I let out a long breath, then shut my eyes, flipping the trigger lock onto my rifle as I put my head down on both hands, sucking in air and blowing it out rapidly, barely able to catch my breath as my heart pounded in my chest. I felt like I was going to faint.
“Good shot!” Candy said, sounding elated.
I lifted my head and peered through the scope. The captain was standing over Castillion’s body but staring up at us. I thew back the ghillie suit and glanced over at Mars who was waving to the boss. I watched as Nash pulled a woman out of the backseat of the car and frisked her. She was screaming and sobbing. I couldn’t understand half of what she was saying since Nash’s earwig was only picking up snatches of the tirade.
McCallahan was standing beside Cachi, with his head bent, speaking to him. A sudden flash of terror for what had almost just happened, filled my chest, making me shudder.
What in the fuck was Cachi doing down there? He was a go-go dancer, so what on earth was he doing working as a valet for cartel thugs? I was shaking my head in confusion as I heard the crunch of boots. Mars walked over, carrying his rifle case and a folded blanket. I sat up and looked around. How long had I been spacing out? I pulled out my earwigs.
“Planning on staying up ‘ere all night?” Mars asked, pulling out his own coms. I glanced back at the scene, noting that McCallahan was handing some kind of towel to Cachi who immediately began wiping his face with it. “Rex? ‘Oo’s that kid?”
I whipped my head up. “What?”
“Right before Castillion pulled the gun, I ‘eard you say something. Am I wrong? Ya know that kid?”
I looked away, unable to meet his penetrating gaze any longer. Besides, it was a lot easier not to look him in the eye when I answered. “Yeah, it’s Cachi and he’s not a kid. He’s twenty-five.”
“Oh, shit,” said Mars. I glanced up at him, watching as he squatted in front of me as I opened the case and began dismantling my tripod. “Is that the guy ‘oo—”
I nodded, not wanting to hear him say it. I knew what he had to be thinking. He was probably wondering if the valets were affiliated with the cartel. At the very least, they’d be questioned about their involvement, so I guess Mars would have answers to his questions soon enough.
Right now, I didn’t want to think about it. I pulled off the scope, then started to disassemble the rifle, working methodically. When I felt a hand on my shoulder, I startled, looking back at Mars. “What?”
“Rex, is ‘e—could ‘e be cartel?”
I swallowed, staring at one of my best friends in the world. I didn’t want to think it could possibly be true. “No way. If you knew him, you wouldn’t ask me that.”
Mars nodded, still staring at me. “Rex, Candy ordered us to take the shot.”
I felt tears burn behind my eyes, so I looked away. “If I’d shot Castillion, the round would have passed right through him and hit—” My words cut off as my throat choked up. I felt Mars squeeze my shoulder hard before he dropped his hand. He stood as I placed my rifle in the case, fastening the locks and then folding the blanket.
“Rex?”
Mars stood there with his hands on both hips. “Yeah?”
“Rex, I ‘ad the shot. Your friend…’e’s alive, mate. Ya did the right thing and as long as ya tell Candy the truth, I’ll back ya up.”
I felt my eyes brimming with tears as I nodded jerkily. “Thanks, Marshall. That means everything to me.”
He stepped forward, slapping me on the back and squeezing my shoulder. “Come on, matey. Let’s get down there. We can’t know anything until we do.”
And he was right. Right now, everything was speculation.
