The coffee shop was quiet. The two FBI agents sat in the back, away from curious eyes and ears. They already drew enough attention with the standard, staid, dark suits. Each had a government-issued badge fastened at their waist and a shoulder holster that left no doubt in the minds of any onlookers of what the two did for a living. The last thing they needed was someone hearing their conversation. Enquiring minds always wanted to know. Always.
“How much do you already know, Rene?”
“Seriously!? I know you’ve been busy gathering Intel on all the organized crime organizations with a presence in Louisville. What I don’t know is why you’re gathering it for your own personal use, David.”
“Agent Turner, on the job.”
“Don’t fuck with me, David.”
“Okay…” He leaned back in his seat, settling in for what promised to be an unpleasant conversation. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure yet. Right now, I’m looking at it as an investment. Insurance, I guess.”
“Really. What all do you have, exactly?”
“I have a flash drive on Jericho Cage.”
“You kept a flash drive on one of our colleagues? What the hell?”
“Don’t you mean the Angel of Death team? Those two have got more twisted shit going on; they don’t need me to take them down. I have the flash drive so I can hold it over their heads if I need leverage. I know for a fact that Glazov already has something on them. I’m just getting in line. Which means…I may have a possible unexpected ally with the Russians. I’m not sure how I’m working that angle yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out.”
Rene was slack-jawed, her words coming slowly as she shook her head in disbelief. “Who are you, and what the hell have you done with my partner?”
He leaned in and took her hand in his on the table. “I’ve spent years doing the right thing, Rene. I’ve followed the rules. I’ve listened to the FBI’s bullshit when they don’t want to accept a profile I’ve given them, only for them to find out I was right -- and then some ass in brass comes in and takes credit for my work. Who’s to say they won’t turn on me? Who’s to say I won’t need help from the bad guys one day? You expect me to trust an organization that has repeatedly fucked me over for years? Well, I can’t. I won’t.”
The only thing she could do was squeeze his hand as a show of support. How the hell could she do anything but that, when everything he was saying was true? She patted his hand reassuringly, much as a mother might. “Okay, okay, I get it. Just no more secrets.”
“No more secrets,” he agreed, smiling. He had the support of the most important person in the world to him. That was all he needed to get through these turbulent times. Everything would work out. He’d make sure it did.
“What’s good for the gander is good for the goose, I suppose. So, I expect to have your support in what I’m about to tell you.”
“Oh, boy,” he exhaled heavily as he released her hand and leaned back in his seat.
“That would be ‘Oh, Mistress’ to you,” she couldn’t resist reminding him of the true nature of their relationship. Her look was clear and direct…and unsmiling. “You and I both know that Luis Jimenez followed Valentina Vargas here from Guatemala--”
“What is this all about, anyway? It isn’t like you to fangirl like this,” he said uneasily.
“—let me finish! Luis following her that far got me thinking… There’s got to be more going on than she’s telling the Ramirez family. I did some homework on him and there have been allegations he’s gotten too close to some of his teenage clients.”
“Why hasn’t anyone pressed charges?” Turner’s face was grim as his instincts kicked into high gear, the way they always did when he felt a criminal case start to come alive.
“You know how it is with bribes and payoffs. Nobody can find Valentina’s mother. It’s like she disappeared.”
“What do you think happened?”
“I think Valentina has had to raise herself. He couldn’t manipulate her because she was more mature than her years. Maybe she stood up to the son of a bitch and it turned him on? Who knows? You know how child predators are—they groom their victims, for years sometimes. Valentina probably couldn’t be groomed because her mother stripped her of any innocence she may have ever had.”
“So, you’re thinking he’s making a habit of committing statutory rape? Maybe Valentina went to her mother and Mom swept it under the rug, but confronted Luis. Then Mom was paid off and now she’s on some island drinking Mai Tais?”
“I’m thinking I don’t know. All I know is something isn’t right with that talent agent and I have every intention of finding out what it is.”
“He forfeited a lot of future income when Victor brought her over here. Maybe he doesn’t want to let go of his cash cow,” Turner shrugged. “Or maybe he’s just plain stalkerish like the rest of the cartel men are.”
“Coming all the way from Guatemala for one client is a bit excessive. Doesn’t he have other clients?”
“Well, look at who she is. I mean, really, she was probably a major chunk of his income. I will say this, something’s off with the guy or he would know better than to follow Victor Ramirez’s woman anywhere. She’s under Ramirez family protection. Whether the allegations are true or not, that guy is going to get himself killed messing around with Victor’s woman.”
“I know that’s right,” Rene said. “So, what’s next?”
“Let’s do what we do best: investigate.”
“So, you’re backing me up on nailing this guy and protecting Valentina?”
“Sure. But should I be jealous?” When she looked at him with no answer and her poker face firmly in place, he figured it would be better to humor her—for now. “If you want me to be perfectly honest, my only concern is you and not having to keep secrets from you. On another note, this dovetails perfectly with the matter of the ‘insurance’ we discussed. If Victor thinks we rescued his woman from her evil, moneygrubbing agent, then we’ll have the Colombian cartel’s favor. And they may end up owing us a favor. If it doesn’t work out this time around, that’s okay. We’ll just bide our time. It’s not like they’re going anywhere. And I don’t care what the Ramirez boys say about going legit. They’re going to fuck up sometime. And we’ll be there waiting, to save the day.”
“You’re playing with fire, David.”
“Well, as Nina Simone says, it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, and I’m feelin’ good.”
It was the truth, too. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.