Page 39 of Fatal Strike
“Right.”
“Said he never heard a thing.”
“I want to talk to him.”
“Hold on. Not like I’m sitting behind my desk.”
Jon chuckled without any humor.
“Here’s the officer’s number.”
Leah jotted it down.
Jon continued. “Dylan Ortega arranged to turn himself in, but he escaped during the chaos. We’ve got two dead menhere—one of them Aaron Michaels. The second man hasn’t been identified.”
Everson swore. “Michaels squeaked when he walked.”
“Not anymore.” Jon wrapped up the call and turned to Leah. “Would you contact the officer on protection duty at the Mendez house? I might unload about him not doing his job and get written up.”
“Funny you should ask the agent with the panther rep to be the pacifier here.” The officer assigned to the Mendez home responded on the second ring. She introduced herself and informed him her partner was listening in. “I’ll get straight to the point. How did thieves break into the garage and steal the SUV?”
“No sign of breaking and entering.”
“Was anything else stolen?”
“She had a 9mm in the glove box. Registered. I reported it missing.”
“You can tell her the SUV’s been found and possibly the weapon. The vehicle was involved in a crime.” She ended the call and laid the phone on the glass-crusted hood.
“I want a background on the officer. How do you not hear someone breaking and entering?”
“The interior of the house is monitored by security cameras. If he fell asleep, we’ll find out.” Leah wondered briefly if the officer had been bribed.
Jon opened his truck door and proceeded to pull out their possessions. “Unless the Venenos have an army behind them, coming after federal agents shows a lack of brains,” he said.
Leah turned to him. “Are you thinking about the cover-up theory?”
“The magnitude of this operation. And Aaron Michaelsdoesn’t fit the Veneno profile. I’m convinced whatever’s going on has nothing to do with areconquistawar cry. It’s a front.”
She wrapped her brain around the brewing concept. “If so, were Ian Greer, Marcia Trevelle, and Judge Mendez onto them?” She drew out a breath and picked up her phone. “I need to call Silvia.” But the woman didn’t answer. “Guess I’ll text her.”
Someone tried to stop Dylan from talking to us. Please tell him we want to talk.
“How far do you think that will get you?” Jon said, looking over her shoulder at the message.
Leah shook her head. “Who else knew about the meeting?”
26
IN A RENTAL CAR,Leah and Jon returned to the busy crime scene outside Willie G’s, where police wove through the crowd asking questions and gathering intel on the firefight. Three ambulances flashed their lights, but she didn’t see any paramedics in action. Good. The rain continued to assault them.
She spotted Everson by a cruiser under an umbrella. He reminded Leah of a football coach whose team was down in the fourth quarter.
They made their way through the crowd to Everson.
Water dripped off his poncho, and no eye contact. “The only good thing that came out of tonight was Aaron Michaels bleeding out,” he said.
Leah resolved to be civil. “We’re talking about a human being here, a young man whose life is gone.”
