Munoz didn’t even blink. “Who knows? Perhaps he owed you a favor.”
“Prime Montgomery and House Baylor have a complicated, often adversarial, relationship,” I said. “Oddly enough, he did once come here as one of us.”
“Who?” Giacone asked.
“Me,” I said. “He made it past all of our defenses.”
“Before my time,” Patricia said.
“Which is why we have taken certain measures to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
Patricia fiddled with a tablet and put it in front of the cops again. This was turning out to be the ballad of dueling tablets.
A brightly lit interior of the security booth appeared on the screen. Two guards manned the console. A large German shepherd lay on a pillow by their feet.
“This is Cassius. This is what happens when one of us approaches the booth,” I said.
On the screen the dog rose and sniffed the holes in the glass. A separate feed in the corner of the screen showed Leon outside of the booth.
“Note the time stamp,” Patricia said.
6:33 p.m., yesterday.
Patricia fiddled with the tablet again and returned it to the table. “This is what happens when an illusion mage attempts to gain entry while impersonating a member of House Baylor.”
On the screen Grandma Frida walked up to the booth. Had I not known that this was a hired mage, I would have sworn that it was my grandmother. She walked with the same bounce in her step. Her clothes were right, her smile was right. Even the engine oil stains on her coveralls were right.
She approached the booth. She was five feet away when Cassius snarled, baring his teeth, and exploded into barks.
“As you’re well aware, an illusion mage can change their appearance but not their biochemistry. We have four canine sentries,” Patricia said. “They work six-hour shifts. We test them every month. They have never given a false positive.”
“I don’t know who that is on your recording,” I said. “But it’s not my cousin. Leon would never kill Audrey. Nor would he have a relationship with her or lead her on. He is a Baylor.”
“Are you implying that he’s too good for her?” Munoz asked, a faint warning in his tone.
“I’m implying that, as a member of an emerging House, Leon understands discipline and obligation to his family. He works fifty hours a week on average. Sometimes, especially in the beginning of a new case, he works more. He still resides with the rest of us here, he logs his every move, and he doesn’t sleep with clients. That would be against our policy. He doesn’t have the time, opportunity, or the energy to commit to a relationship, all of which he explained to Audrey. You can listen to the recording if you wish.”
“And he just happened to record this conversation?” Munoz asked.
“No, but she did. You can view it on her YouTube and Instagram, video #468. Titled ‘Should I give him a chance?’ She recorded the phone call and inserted chunks of it into her video with her commentary while doing her makeup. This was over a month ago.”
Munoz looked like he wanted to say something. I would drag him over to our side. Whatever it took. Very well. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.
I turned to Giacone. This would have to be done just right. I looked at him as if he were a dog. A loyal, but stupid, dog.
“How is Amanda, Henry?”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nevada frown.
Giacone pulled himself ramrod straight. “She’s well, thank you.”
“I understand she’s made quite a lot of progress with her violin.”
Giacone offered me a shy smile. “Yes. She has a recital later this month.”
“Are you considering the Mayflower Academy?” The Mayflower Academy was a high school for gifted students, private, exclusive, hellishly difficult to get into and far out of a typical police sergeant’s range.
“We thought about it,” Giacone said.
Of course you did. “My grandmother believes your daughter would be a good fit.”
Giacone turned slightly whiter. “Thank you.”
“Give us a few minutes, Henry.”
“Yes, Ms. Tremaine.”
He rose, walked out of the room, and shut the door. Next to me on Patricia’s tablet, Britney Hays, one of our security people showed Giacone to a room across the hall and followed him in there.
If Munoz could be any more inscrutable, he’d turn to stone, but I knew he’d caught that “Tremaine.” Henry had slipped. And that’s after he hit his own professional impartiality over the head with a shovel and buried it in his backyard.
I dropped the mask and looked Munoz in the eye. “Detective Giacone is my grandmother’s creature. He’s been bought and paid for. This is a show of trust on my part. I’m giving you a chance to transfer a mole out of your department.”
Munoz leaned back, the nonchalant expression gone. “As long as Giacone is my partner, he’ll be keeping tabs on you and reporting to her. You want Victoria Tremaine out of your hair and you’re using my hands to do it.”
“She’ll know it’s me.” And she won’t like it.
Munoz fixed me with a heavy stare. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can manipulate me, Ms. Baylor.”
Everyone had a pressure point. I knew Munoz’s, but that was the difference between me and Grandma Victoria. I would never use it.
“You don’t believe Leon did it either. If you did, you would have gone about this meeting in an entirely different way.”
“What I believe isn’t as important as what the evidence tells me.”
“Sabrian Turner will shred that recording in court and you know it,” Nevada said.
“Sergeant Munoz, in the last forty-eight hours we’ve been attacked three times. We are in someone’s crosshairs. I don’t know who is behind this series of unfortunate events, but I’ll find out. I have no reason to manipulate you. I just want you to be aware of what’s happening, and I don’t want Houston PD to jump to conclusions, because I expect more trouble. A lot more. I’m asking you to trust me and offering evidence that I’m trustworthy.”
I had served him Giacone on a silver platter. Munoz was too smart not to recognize it as an overture to the alliance. I gave him the mole. In turn, when the next piece of weird evidence involving us crossed his desk, he would view it more carefully.
“Consider me aware.”
“I’m not asking for special treatment. Just a little patience.”
He shook his head. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“I have to protect my family, Sergeant.”
He nodded, stood up, and left.
I waited until the camera feed on my laptop assured me that the two officers exited the building under Patricia’s watchful eye and then tapped my keyboard. An image of Bern nestled in the computer room expanded on the screen. Arabella was behind him and Grandma Frida sat on his left, while Mom was on his right. They woke her up. Figured.
Patricia came back and sat in the chair across from me.
“We are being targeted because of Linus’ case I’m working on. Originally I thought I was the primary target, but it doesn’t seem to be the case.”
I told them as much about Arkan as I could without betraying Linus’ confidence.
“Whoever Arkan sent is smart and knows way too much about us. As of this moment, we’re going to proceed as if we are in a feud. Bern, please check our networks, the servers, the cameras, everything. Arabella, please review our financials. Liquidate anything that can potentially result in a crippling loss if someone starts manipulating the market.”
“That would be about thirty percent of our portfolio,” she warned. “We’ll take a hit.”
“Do it,” I said. “We don’t want to be financially vulnerable.”