Chapter Four - Maddie
I take the card from Tyler and read it again just to make sure I’m seeing this right. Yup. DE fuckin’ A.
And then I swing, and my little fist crashes into Ricky’s tightly-clenched jaw. And there’s this weird moment when Tyler looks at me in surprise, and Ricky looks at me in surprise, and I have to collect my thoughts so I can put into words what that punch really meant.
But I do it. I smooth an imaginary wrinkle out of my dress, raise my chin, and say, “Eso es por mentir.”
Ricky rubs his twice-punched jaw.
“What?” Tyler says. “What’d you just tell him?”
But I ignore Tyler and take another step towards Ricky. I point my finger in his face and say, “I hate liars.”
“I get that,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“We spent like eleventy-billion hours together driving back to Vegas. You couldn’t tell me this then?”
“I can’t risk talking in one of Carlos’s cars. I’m risking enough by even being here now and having the damn card on me.”
“And then—” I’m so angry, I’m seeing red. “And then you threatened to kill me if I didn’t have the money in time when you dropped me off.” I swing again, but Tyler catches me by the wrist before I can make contact.
“What?” I snap, turning my head to glare at him.
“Why are you mad at me?” he asks.
“I’m not mad at you,” I snap again. I walk right over to the couch, plop down, causing my dress to flounce out over the sofa cushions, and I hug a pillow to my lap. I’m so mad.
“OK…” Tyler says. “Can we try again? Without the Spanish this time?” He points to both of us with two fingers forming a V-shape. Ricky nods. “So, OK. So, you’re a fucking DEA agent?”
“I am. And, just so you know, nobody knows I’m here today,” says Ricky.
“How’d you know we were here? Were you fucking trailing me?” I ask him.
“I was. I read that Pete’s wake was happening and assumed you’d be there.”
I am so, so mad.
“OK. Good for you,” says Tyler. “So whattayou want? If you’re so goddamned worried about blowing your cover, then why are you here now?”
“Because it’s important.” Ricky takes a breath, then says, “So I work out of the San Diego field office. I’ve been inside the Castillo organization, working my way up, for the last eighteen months.”
He looks at me like I should care. Fuck him. He threatened to kill me. A threat I took seriously. I made decisions based on that fucking threat. Like stripping in the morning at Pete’s.
Ricky continues, “And it’s been tough. Like real tough. We’re getting shit.”
“Why?” asks Tyler.
“Because Castillo’s crazy but he’s careful. You know why he won’t fly? It’s not because he has some innate fear of flying, it’s because he thinks the US government will shoot him down.”
“What? Why?” I ask. “Would you guys really do something like that?”
There’s a pause before Ricky says, “Probably not. But it’s what he thinks.”
Jesus. This whole thing is insane.
“Point is, he doesn’t trust anyone.”
“What about his nephew? Unlucky Logan?” Tyler asks. I look at him to explain himself. He shrugs and adds, “My nickname for him. How I keep people straight. This guy was just T-Shirt until a second ago. Now he’s Ricky DEA.”
“Logan’s his own thing,” says Ricky.
“Fuck do you mean, ‘his own thing’?” I snap at him. “You know he burned down the club and killed Pete, don’t you? On his uncle’s orders.”
Ricky hangs his head and says, “Yeah. Yeah, I know what he did.”
“So then fucking arrest him!” I shout, standing up. Tyler puts a hand on my arm to hold me back. But I’m about two seconds from being able to be held back by anyone.
“We can’t. I can’t. If Castillo goes down on a murder charge, which is a state charge, then we blow up our whole investigation. Not to mention the fact that he’s not a US citizen. Trying to extradite him would take months, or longer, and in the meantime, he’d move pieces around so that we’d have to start our work with him all over again. It’s… We can’t. I’m sorry.”
I pull myself free of Tyler’s grip and get right in Ricky’s face. “Fuck. You.”
“OK, OK,” Tyler says pulling me back. I jerk free again and throw myself back onto the couch. Tyler goes on, “Look, what are you doing here today? What do you want?”
Ricky looks around then spies a chair across from the couch. “May I sit?”
“Whatever,” I say, panning my hand to the chair.
Ricky places himself in the chair and looks at me. “Maddie, I’ve been working this thing for a year and a half. And in that time, I’ve known Carlos to be singularly focused on running his business and keeping his competition in place. He eats, drinks, and sleeps work. Talks about nothing else.”
“So. What does that have to do with—?” I start.
“Until you,” he interrupts.
If Ricky Ramirez-Martinez-Whatever-His-Last-Name-Is wanted my attention, he has it now. “What are you talking about?”
“Yeah,” says Tyler. “Fuck are you talking about?”
“He’s… obsessed. With Maddie. He talks about her all the time. Maddie, he doesn’t care about the money you owe him. He wants you.”
“Well, yeah,” I say. “I kinda figured that out when he tried to abduct me.”
“No, that’s my point. He doesn’t try. He doesn’t negotiate with anyone. Nobody leaves unless he wants them to. That he let you walk away…? Like, I’m saying he’s in love with you, Maddie.”
Holy. Fucking. Hell. This cannot be happening. And suddenly, I have a very bad feeling that I know where this is all headed.
“So… What do you want from me?” I ask, suspiciously.
“I’d like to ask you to help the United States government build its case against the Carlos Castillo drug cartel. By telling Carlos that you couldn’t get together the money you owe him, and that you’re willing to make good on your promise to… be with him.”
There’s a faint ringing in my ears, like something loud just happened next to me and it’s going to take a while to get my hearing back. The next thing I can make out clearly is Tyler’s voice saying…
“Um, I’m sorry. You think you’re gonna get my girlfriend involved in your little government scheme to bring down a Mexican drug lord?”
That’s exactly what Ricky thinks. Clearly. And—wait. Did Tyler just call me his girlfriend?
“It’s neither little, nor is it a scheme,” says Ricky. “It’s a massive government operation that has already cost us millions of dollars and thousands of man hours. And what’s missing for us to make our case is how Carlos is transporting his drugs.”
“Whattayou mean, how?” Tyler asks.
“He’s not flying anything, he doesn’t use tunnels like his competitors, or at least none that we’ve been able to ID, and—”
“And what? Maddie is a fucking expert in drug trafficking methods all of the sudden?”
“No. But Maddie might be the one person we’ve found who’s in a position to get the critical intel we need.” Then Ricky takes a breath and says, “Look, I know it sounds ridiculous, but sometimes to catch the bad guys, we have to paint outside the lines. It’s not ideal, I get it, but she’ll be providing a service to her country and I’ll be there the whole time in case things go sideways.”
“OK,” Tyler says, walking over to Ricky and staring down at him like he’s gonna… I dunno, choke him until he dies, maybe. “First of all, this card,” he says, holding up the business card, “is bullshit. I need a badge and then I need a supervisor, and then I’m gonna need a meeting with the supervisor, and then… maybe, if all that shit checks out, we can talk about how I, not her, but I, might help you. But until that happens, fuck you.”
“Well,” Ricky says, “I appreciate that, but unfortunately that can’t happen. The deal is that I’ve got a lot of latitude to run this operation, so this is my call. Buck stops with me.”
“OK. Then get the fuck out.” Tyler is serious. Like, I haven’t seen him in soldier mode or anything, but I’ve gotten glimpses of that particular side of him. And this is that side. This, right here, is who he’s become since he left home all those years ago. Dead-fuckin’-serious I-will-kill-you Tyler Morgan.
“Wait,” I say, throwing the pillow aside and standing up. “You’re trying to take down Carlos?”
“We very much are,” Ricky says, still calm.
“And Logan?” I ask.
“I mean, certainly he’ll also go down if we can get Carlos.”
I chew on my lip, thinking about this.
“No,” Tyler says, coming to stand in front of me. Blocking my view of Ricky with his body. “No, Maddie. Not happening. We already agreed to just pay these nut-suckers the money you owe them and have that be the end of it.”
“It won’t be the end of it,” says Ricky. “I assure you. Sorry. But that’s the truth.”
I step to Tyler and put my hands on his chest. “They killed Pete, Tyler. And Jeff. And who knows how many other people.”
Tyler looks into my eyes, then says, “Fuck this,” and starts pacing. “Fuck this. Fuck this.”
“We need you, Maddie,” Ricky says. “And if you—”
“Fuck this!” Tyler yells.
“—can get him to trust you—”
“Get the fuck out!”
“—and get him to think you’re on his side… We can get him, Maddie. We can get him, and Logan, and all of them. All you gotta do is—”
Tyler jumps at Ricky, grabs him by his sweater and pulls him up out of the chair. Ricky doesn’t resist. Just looks like he’s bracing himself for another punch. Tyler screams at him, “The fuck are you talking about? No! The fucking answer is no!”
And then, out of nowhere, the Devil pops up on my shoulder. Smiling. Dancing a little jig. Yes, he hisses in my ear. Yes. This is perfect.
And he’s right. It is, isn’t it?
“Payback,” I say, redirecting my gaze from Ricky to Tyler.
Tyler, still holding Ricky’s sweater, looks at me. “What?” he asks.
“This is how we get our payback for Pete. And for Jeff. And for all the other people Carlos Castillo has fucked with and killed over the years.”
“No, no, no,” says Tyler. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying…” My eyes shift back to Ricky. “My answer is yes.”