“She’s a straight arrow, and one who’s kicking herself for not clueing in on Lino while she kept house for him. She’s going to think about all this, and think hard. If she comes up with anything, she’ll contact us.”
“That’s how I read her, too. Now try this. Lino and company routinely attend the dance deal where the bombing took place. But they’re not there when it gets hit. Just Joe’s there, in what you could call the line of fire. And days later, right before Lino takes off, he and Joe argue. No arrests. The cops look hard at members of the Skulls, but they can’t tie them. Maybe because there was no tie.”
“You think Lino was behind both? Wait a minute.” When they got out at the center, Peabody leaned on the vehicle, stared off into middle distance. “You want war, you want to be a hero-important. Retaliation’s sexier than unprovoked offense. The bombings kicked the level up from street fights. Bomb your own turf-school dance, plenty of innocents. Even people who don’t look kindly on you, on gangs, they’re worked up.”
“Spread the word that you were the target. They came after you. Now you hit back, hit harder.”
“Okay, but why leave?”
“You leave important, your name on people’s lips. You make sure word goes that you’ve left so no more innocent people are killed when the Skulls try for you again. And you leave a body count behind.”
Like Peabody, Eve leaned on the car. Across the street a woman swept her stoop, and beside it flowers made a colorful waterfall down a glossy white pot. The early morning rain still glittered on petals and leaves.
“The cops can’t hassle you,” Eve continued, “not only because you aren’t there, but because evidence says you weren’t. He’s patient, the son of a bitch was patient. You’re going to come back one day, come back rolling in it. Could be he didn’t plan for it to take so long. You’re seventeen, and full of yourself. You think, I’ll score, big score, in a few months, go back, live like a king.”
“Doesn’t work that way,” Peabody mused. “Plus, you’re seventeen, and you’re out of the box for the first time in your life. There’s a big world out there. You’re whoever you are, whenever you want to be. I like it.”
“So do I. Might be half bullshit, but some of it’s got to play in.”
They went into the center. Magda stood behind the counter making a ’link call. A couple of boys sat on bright yellow chairs, with expressions that indicated to Eve they were planning nefarious deeds. Another woman stood nearby, keeping an eagle eye on them.
Magda held up a hand, two fingers indicating two minutes. “I know, Kippy, but this is the third fight in two weeks. That’s an automatic suspension. Both Wyatt and Luis need to be picked up as soon as possible. I’ve already contacted Luis’s dad. Yes, that’s fine. I’m really sorry. Oh, I know.” Magda rolled her gaze toward the two boys. “I absolutely know.”
She clicked off. “Okay, sorry about that. One more second. Nita? Wyatt’s mother and Luis’s father are coming in. It’s going to take Kippy about an hour to arrange it. Can you hold them until then?”
Nita, a sturdy-looking woman with her back to the desk, nodded. “I’ll stay here. Do you need me to man the desk?”
“No, I-This won’t take long, will it?” she asked Eve, then angled back toward Nita. “Nita’s in charge of our six- to ten-year-olds, and our nurse. We’d be lost without her. Nita, this is Lieutenant Dallas and Detective Peabody.” Magda gave the boys a meaningful look. “In case anybody around here needs to be arrested.”
Nita turned slightly, a cold look in her eye. Eve started to speak, but the boys needed only that split second. They fell on each other like wolves.
Even as Eve started forward, Nita waded in. Eve had to admire the way the woman grabbed both kids by the shirt collars and yanked them apart.
“You there. You there.” She hauled them to chairs. “You think punching each other makes you strong? It makes you stupid. Fighting’s for those not smart enough to use their words.”
Eve might have disagreed-she liked a good fight-but the lecture had the kids staring at the floor.
“My partner and I can take them downtown,” Eve said casually. “Looks like a couple of assaults, disturbing the peace, and being general dumb-asses to me. Couple hours in a cage…” She let it trail off.
Both boys stared at her, jaws on the toes of their skids, which had been the intention. Nita, however, stared holes through her, with no trace of humor, for an icy moment before turning her back again. “It’s for their parents to deal with.”
“Sure. So…” She turned back to Magda. “I’m looking for Father López.”
“Yes, he’s in the gym. Marc told me he ran into you this morning, that you said you had some leads.”
“We’re working it. Gym?”
“Through that door, straight down to the end of the corridor, turn left.”
“Thanks. And, ah…” She jerked her head toward the boys. “Good luck.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Nita doesn’t like cops,” Eve commented as she headed down the corridor with Peabody.
“Either that or she took you seriously. If I didn’t know you, I’d have taken you seriously.”
“I thought scaring kids out of being little assholes was SOP.”
“Well… It’s a method.”
“Did you see the kid on the right. Little bastard can take a punch.”
And so, Eve noted when they went through the gym doors, could López. What looked like a portable sparring ring stood behind the center court line. A scatter of kids practiced on equipment on the other half, under the supervision of a couple of women in gym shorts. López-red boxing gloves, black face guard, black baggy shorts, and a white tee-sparred with Marc.
And Marc snuck one in.
Other kids grouped around the ring, called out encouragement. The gym rang with voices, the slap of feet, and the whop of padded gloves finding meat.
Both men had worked up a sweat, and despite the age difference appeared evenly matched to the casual onlooker. But Eve saw López was quicker, and carried that innate boxer’s grace.
An out-fighter, she noted, making his opponent come to him.
He weaved, jabbed, danced right, hooked. Disciplined poetry in motion.
Why, exactly, was fighting the answer of the weak and brainless? Eve wondered.
She watched until the timer rang, and both men stepped back. She’d counted two hits for Marc, six for López. And the way Marc bent at the waist to catch his breath told her he was done.
She walked forward. “Nice round.”
Puffing, still bent over, Marc turned his head. “The guy kills me.”
“You drop your right before you jab.”
“So he tells me,” Marc said bitterly. “You want a shot at him?”
Eve glanced up at López. “Wouldn’t mind, but I’ll rain-check. Have you got a few minutes now?” she asked López. “We have some questions.”
“Of course.”
“Outside maybe? We’ll wait for you on the blacktop.”
“He’s built,” Peabody said when they walked out of the gym. “Who knew that under all the priest gear he was Father Seriously Ripped.”
“Keeps in shape. And something’s up. Father Seriously Ripped had his sad eyes on, but there was more. There was dread.”
“Really? I guess I wasn’t looking at his eyes. He could have heard about Lino by now. Word like that starts traveling fast. Since he’s the man in charge, he’s going to have to explain, I guess, why he didn’t realize a man like that was working under him. Everybody needs a fall guy, right? Maybe the church brass is aiming at him.”
Since the blacktop was swarming with kids, Eve stayed at the side of the building. “Why aren’t these people in school?”
“School’s out for the day, Dallas. On the technical end of things, it’s nearly end of shift.”