together, I felt guilty for the first time for what I'd asked Mateo to do.
Chapter 4
One of Mateo's errands earlier had been collecting my things from Crimson, so my bag was stowed in the back of his car. I gave him a quick hug when I saw it. Frankly, I'd written it off as a loss because there was no way I'd survive a return trip to Crimson's camp to collect it.
"I thought you might need that." He smiled, but it was a little tighter than normal.
I nodded and climbed into the car. The quicker we left, the better. I didn't need someone catching a glimpse of me and starting all sorts of havoc.
We left the racing fields and turned west toward L.A., then circled back. Driving with Mateo, all that alone time, should have been comforting, but it wasn't. He held my hand, swiping his thumb across the same half-moon patch of skin over and over. With every crossing, my tension grew. I never worried this much about what I do for a living. This stage, closing in on the bad guy, was when I got fucking excited. This time instead of excitement, a growing knot of dread settled in my belly.
Just past the California-Nevada border, Mateo pointed at an overgrown fueling station, a throwback to Route 66 in its prime. It was a small by modern standards, with the glass boarded up and the roll-up door to the service bay so rusted it would likely never open again. The red and white paint was faded and worn to the point where gray cinderblock was showing through in most places. The gas pumps sat off-kilter to the broken down blacktop and one another. All in all, it looked abandoned.
"That's it." Mateo didn't slow as we drove by.
"Are you sure?" I squinted to get a better look in the rearview mirror. That's when I saw one lone car parked behind the building, mostly obscured by sagebrush and a dilapidated shed. "Never mind, I see it."
"It sure looks empty."
"How did you find out about it?" I knew Mateo had sources that he probably didn't want to tell me about, but I was still curious. There was no way he just walked up to Crimson and said "Hey, I just fucked your girl. Oh, and by the way, could you tell me where you're cooking meth?"
"I went to school with a couple of guys in Crimson's group. They tend to talk too much ," he replied, but it was guarded.
"That's why they're not with you?" I decided not to push. Realistically, once I had the locat ion, I wouldn't need to supply the source of that information to my boss.
"Guys like that don't do well with Luis." He shrugged but didn't elaborate. I was glad.
"So what's the plan?" The service station had faded out of sight and we were still headed east.
"Find a hotel. Come back later."
That worked for me. I needed to report in and I wanted a shower and a change of clothes.
"Hey." I rubbed the backs of my fingers over Mateo's cheek. He had a pretty healthy five o'clock shadow working and it scratched against my skin. He glanced at me, then looked back at the road. "Thanks a lot for this."
He looked at me harder then. Thank God we were on a straight stretch of road because having the driver focusing away from the road for that long was fucking unnerving. "Don't make me regret it."
I nodded, not at all sure it was a promise I could keep.
#
Mateo went in search of food while I called my lieutenant. The motel was one of those creepy dingy roadside things that they show in movies, too cliché to be real. Yet, there I was, standing on the stained carpet next to the window, so I knew it was more than just bad Hollywood writing. No wonder Norman Bates went all crazy. This place was fucking creepy. And nasty. I was afraid to lie on the bed, so I paced and listened to the phone ring.
"Liverton." My boss snapped in that irritated way that said he hated his phone and would prefer if I fucked right off and stopped calling.
"It's Roni."
"Where the fuck have you been? You're over two hours late." From
Chapter 4
One of Mateo's errands earlier had been collecting my things from Crimson, so my bag was stowed in the back of his car. I gave him a quick hug when I saw it. Frankly, I'd written it off as a loss because there was no way I'd survive a return trip to Crimson's camp to collect it.
"I thought you might need that." He smiled, but it was a little tighter than normal.
I nodded and climbed into the car. The quicker we left, the better. I didn't need someone catching a glimpse of me and starting all sorts of havoc.
We left the racing fields and turned west toward L.A., then circled back. Driving with Mateo, all that alone time, should have been comforting, but it wasn't. He held my hand, swiping his thumb across the same half-moon patch of skin over and over. With every crossing, my tension grew. I never worried this much about what I do for a living. This stage, closing in on the bad guy, was when I got fucking excited. This time instead of excitement, a growing knot of dread settled in my belly.
Just past the California-Nevada border, Mateo pointed at an overgrown fueling station, a throwback to Route 66 in its prime. It was a small by modern standards, with the glass boarded up and the roll-up door to the service bay so rusted it would likely never open again. The red and white paint was faded and worn to the point where gray cinderblock was showing through in most places. The gas pumps sat off-kilter to the broken down blacktop and one another. All in all, it looked abandoned.
"That's it." Mateo didn't slow as we drove by.
"Are you sure?" I squinted to get a better look in the rearview mirror. That's when I saw one lone car parked behind the building, mostly obscured by sagebrush and a dilapidated shed. "Never mind, I see it."
"It sure looks empty."
"How did you find out about it?" I knew Mateo had sources that he probably didn't want to tell me about, but I was still curious. There was no way he just walked up to Crimson and said "Hey, I just fucked your girl. Oh, and by the way, could you tell me where you're cooking meth?"
"I went to school with a couple of guys in Crimson's group. They tend to talk too much ," he replied, but it was guarded.
"That's why they're not with you?" I decided not to push. Realistically, once I had the locat ion, I wouldn't need to supply the source of that information to my boss.
"Guys like that don't do well with Luis." He shrugged but didn't elaborate. I was glad.
"So what's the plan?" The service station had faded out of sight and we were still headed east.
"Find a hotel. Come back later."
That worked for me. I needed to report in and I wanted a shower and a change of clothes.
"Hey." I rubbed the backs of my fingers over Mateo's cheek. He had a pretty healthy five o'clock shadow working and it scratched against my skin. He glanced at me, then looked back at the road. "Thanks a lot for this."
He looked at me harder then. Thank God we were on a straight stretch of road because having the driver focusing away from the road for that long was fucking unnerving. "Don't make me regret it."
I nodded, not at all sure it was a promise I could keep.
#
Mateo went in search of food while I called my lieutenant. The motel was one of those creepy dingy roadside things that they show in movies, too cliché to be real. Yet, there I was, standing on the stained carpet next to the window, so I knew it was more than just bad Hollywood writing. No wonder Norman Bates went all crazy. This place was fucking creepy. And nasty. I was afraid to lie on the bed, so I paced and listened to the phone ring.
"Liverton." My boss snapped in that irritated way that said he hated his phone and would prefer if I fucked right off and stopped calling.
"It's Roni."
"Where the fuck have you been? You're over two hours late." From
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