Carlos flew back into the open closet as Griffin ran from the adjoining room. Griffin tackled him and the two men went down.
“Get the hell off me, you oaf.” A glare my way. “It’s your brother, idiot.”
It was the first time I’d heard Carlos call me that. He’d say mockingly a “little bro” or “baby bro,” but in serious reference I was always his half-brother-if he had to admit to any relationship at all.
He struggled against Griffin’s restraining hands, but he was no match for the bigger man. With one hand, Griffin tugged plastic wrist straps from his pocket and glanced at me. I nodded.
“What the hell are you doing?” Carlos said. “You’re supposed to be rescuing me!”
“We need to escort you to headquarters,” I said. “If you’ll-”
“Headquarters? The fuck you are, you traitorous son-of-a-bitch. I wouldn’t trust you to escort me across the road.”
From brother to traitor in twenty seconds. If one angle didn’t work…
“I need to take you back. Hector-Hector’s dead.”
“Hec-?” He lifted his gaze to mine. “Bullshit.”
When I didn’t answer, he searched my face.
“Ah, shit,” he said. “What was it? A car accident? Heart attack? I know his heart had been-” His expression hardened. “If it was a heart attack, you better believe I’m holding you responsible, Lucas. You traipse into the office this afternoon, with no warning-”
“He was murdered.”
His surprise seemed genuine.
“So was William.”
His look turned to shock. “No way. No fucking way.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah? I’ll bet you are. I’ll bet you’re just rubbing your hands right now. Finally got rid of them, and now the way is clear. You can take over the company and run it into the ground, screw Dad over and call it a public service. Well, I’ve got news for you, baby bro. I’m still around. And while I am, you’ve got competition.”
That was it. His shock and grief had lasted exactly thirty seconds before his true concerns took over.
Griffin made a move, as if to lead him away, but I shook my head. There was still one more test.
“They attacked our father,” I said.
“Is he dead?”
There was no hope in his voice, but no concern either. I paused, giving him time to contemplate, to react, but his expression didn’t change.
“He’s fine.”
“Oh.”
“Griffin will escort you to headquarters.”
Carlos lifted his bound hands. “Not like this.”
“If you’ll go willingly-”
“This isn’t a request, Lucas.”
My phone vibrated. It was the SWAT team. They’d already secured the area and were requesting permission to enter the building. I granted it and hung up.
“Lucas?” Paige nodded to the young woman on the bed and I realized, with no small amount of regret, that I’d forgotten all about her.
“Untie him, please,” I said.
“Taking your sweet fucking time, aren’t you? You like seeing me tied up?”
I was inclined to say I wasn’t the one who liked seeing people bound and helpless. “No, Carlos, surprisingly, I have other concerns on my mind. Our father has charged me with seeing you safely delivered into protective custody. If I need to do so with you bound hand and foot, so be it. Before you go, though, I should ask what happened here.”
“You think?”
We locked gazes.
“They came after me too,” he said finally.
“Who?”
“Well, duh. Obviously the same people who killed William and Hector.”
“You think?” Paige murmured, too low for anyone but me to hear.
“And the young woman. Is this your handiwork?”
I waited for him to object, outraged, but Carlos gave me one last unreadable look, then turned to Griffin.
“Home, Jeeves.”
“Did they kill her to find you?” I asked.
“I gave you an order, Sorenson. Take me to my father.”
“Did you see or hear what happened?”
He turned to me. “You’re the detective, little bro. Detect.”
CARLOS’S SURPRISE AT hearing of Hector and William’s deaths seemed genuine, but he’d shut down when I’d hinted he might have played even a corollary role in tonight’s events. In my experience, the innocent either proclaim their innocence or are too shocked by the allegation to intelligently respond. Carlos had done the Cabal equivalent of lawyering up-take me to my father.
I spent the next thirty minutes examining the crime scenes-the alley, the bedroom and the sniper’s roost on a building a block over-and overseeing the technicians’ work. They needed little guidance, but they indulged me, knowing I wouldn’t contaminate evidence.
I focused on the young man. Identifying him and his role would help me understand what had taken place here.
He had no identification. He wore a cargo vest and pants, both with many pockets. When they were emptied, we had two cell phones, two radios, a handheld computer and two devices we couldn’t recognize. The extra radios and cell phones seemed to be backups.
Paige took the handheld computer. “It’s a homemade job. GPS maybe? Probably more. It’s password protected and something tells me if he knows how to build it, he knows how to protect it. If I start trying to crack the password…”
“It could trigger a program to erase the contents.”
“If I can use the lab at the offices, I can do more.”
She checked one cell phone as I examined the other. All incoming and outgoing call records had been deleted. Both contained identical lists of eight contacts by initials only.
“GB,” Paige said. “The gang leader is Guy Benoit, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“JD, SR, BS…The missing guys are Jaz and Sonny. The dead girl is Bianca. Maybe a coincidence, but something tells me if I press FE I’m going to wake up Hope.”
“I suspect so.”
With that one call we could almost certainly identify the young man. But if I woke Hope to send her pictures of a dead comrade-after the night she’d had-I could safely wipe Karl’s name off my contact list.
I’d have the team run prints, photos and DNA of the victim against Cabal records. I was certain my father would catalogue such information. The completeness of those records was another matter-the gang members were a transitory lot.
My phone rang.
“Mr. Cortez? It’s Tyson, at the hospital? Guarding Troy’s room? You saw me there earlier?”