My cellphone buzzed on the nightstand next to me. I closed the case file and gazed over at the clock—two in the morning. Pretty late to have somebody calling. Must be important. I pried my glasses off and answered.
“Agent Swift,” I said, my voice calm and monotone.
“It's Malarkey. The local sheriff thinks he has something for us.”
I sprung out of bed, my eyes alight with excitement. “Where are you?” I asked.
“San Giovanni's restaurant. Do you need the address?” Malarkey was excited too.
I had followed Dark Steel members to that Italian restaurant before. “No, I'll be there in ten minutes.”
I ran to the closet and pulled out a black suit that was an exact copy of the other four suits hanging. I didn't care much for fashion and wearing the same thing every day made getting ready in the morning that much quicker. I didn't even bother with my makeup or hair as I rode the elevator down to the parking garage.
I made it to San Giovanni's with one minute to spare. The entire police department was parked outside the place with their lights flashing. Yellow caution tape had been set up as a perimeter. A crowd was growing and cops guarded the area. I strolled up to one of the officers. His uniform barely fit and his eyes scanned the crowd nervously—obviously a rookie. He was about to turn me away when I flashed him my FBI badge. His demeanor changed instantly, rolling his shoulders back and straightening his back. The Bureau had that effect on people sometimes. He raised the yellow tape for me and I ducked under.
I spotted Malarkey and caught up with him. “What do we have here?”
Malarkey pointed to a portly man trying to look important. “Agent Swift, this is Sheriff Gillory.”
The sheriff was chowing down on a burrito and he wiped his disgusting hand on his pants before shaking mine. “Not every day I get the FBI in our town,” he said with his mouth full. I'd be completely grossed out if I wasn't so distracted by the crime scene.
“What do we have here,” I repeated, skipping the small talk.
The sheriff pointed to the restaurant. “We got a call around 11:30 of shots fired. We arrived on the scene to find two bodies and two witnesses.”
I put on white latex gloves and surveyed the scene. Two pairs of skid marks on the street indicated that two cars were involved. The front window of the restaurant was completely destroyed and a body lay outside.
I looked over at the closest intersection, searching for any traffic cameras. Next door was a small clothing boutique with a camera pointed toward the restaurant. Bingo.
“Sheriff, can I get the footage from that camera?” I asked pointing up.
He finished the burrito and threw the wrapper on the ground. I don't know what irked me worse: the contamination of the crime scene or littering. It was equally both. “I'll get one of my guys on it right away,” he answered.
I got a closer look at the body—male in his early thirty's, Mexican, and very dead. I pulled down a red bandanna that covered half his face. A small black mustache hid under his nose. I pulled up his shirt sleeve and a tattoo of a red devil and pitchfork covered his arm—Los Diablos MC. Blood stains on his chest and leg marked where the bullets entered his body.
I stepped into the restaurant through the broken window and shattered glass crunched beneath my feet. A table had been overturned and a waiter lay a few feet from it. Large amounts of blood and brain matter stained the floor. I looked back at the overturned table and noticed a bunch of food on the ground.
People were eating here when the gunfight started.
I turned towards the sheriff who was watching me closely. I pointed to the open back door. “Did one of your men open that?”
The sheriff shook his head. “My officers didn't touch a thing.” He didn't seem very competent nor trustworthy. I couldn't know for sure who opened the back door.
“Can I speak to the witnesses?”
“You can...but good luck with the chef, he doesn't speak a lick of English. And the other won't talk until he sees a lawyer.”
I went up to the nicely dressed man being looked at by an E.M.T. “Hi sir, I'm Agent Swift.” I flashed my badge at him and he didn't care to check it. “I'd like to ask you a few questions.”
He tried to fix his disheveled hair but it was no use. “I already told the cops, I'm not going to talk to anyone until I see my lawyer.”
I nodded. “I can understand that. I'd do the exact same thing in your position. But I know your not to blame for this. We already know who did the shooting. It was the Los Diablos Motorcycle Club. There's Mexican blood all over the streets. You don't want to talk to us because you're trying to protect someone. What time does your restaurant close?”
“We normally close at ten.” The man realized that he had spoken and quickly shut his mouth. Start off with an easy question and a witness will find it hard not to respond.
I hid a smile and continued. “So you close at ten and the cops get a call an hour and half later that there was a shooting. What were you doing open so late?”
The witness turned his head. He wasn't going to speak anymore but I didn't need him to. I could tell everything from his eyes.
“How about I tell you what happened. You stayed open late to let a special customer eat alone and then the Los Diablos shot the place to shit. The Los Diablos are about to lose their only drug supplier: the Dark Steel MC.” The witness's eyes darted away when I mentioned Dark Steel. I continued my story, “Los Diablos killed the waiter and the Dark Steel member took out a Mexican before running out the back door. Does all that seem about right?”
The witness shifted his feet. He avoided eye contact but I could tell by his slouched posture that he confirmed my story.
“What do we do now, Swift?” Malarkey asked me, placing a bullet with tweezers into a bag.
I waved the sheriff to take the maitre d' away and turned my attention to Malarkey. “We know that this was revenge on Dark Steel and that they're supposed to have a meeting tomorrow afternoon with Los Diablos. Reach out to your contact and find out if they're still planning a meet. Otherwise contact the sheriff and let him know that there will a lot more blood in the streets.”
Malarkey chuckled. “You got a funny look in your eye. What is it?”
“I know how we can finally get Dark Steel.”