Don't Let Go (Dark Nights #2)

“We’re working the Laguardia case, sir, and it’s vital that we speak with Mrs. Martinez regarding any information she may have on the matter,” Lance said.

I stared at him, a bit surprised that he’d be so insistent when he was so laid back in the office. Then again, this was probably his first piece of fieldwork, even if it wasn’t strictly sanctioned. It made sense he’d want to make the most of it.

“She’s already given a statement,” Martinez said curtly. “Several.”

“The pages on her are mostly blacked out,” I murmured.

Martinez raised an eyebrow, his piercing gaze falling on me. “Then you don’t have high enough clearance. So I have to ask again, why are you here?”

I decided to answer honestly. “If things go well, we’re going to confront him soon. I’d like to know what we’re up against, so my partner and I don’t get killed when we do.”

Martinez’s gaze switched back to Lance. He looked him down and then up again, clearly unimpressed. Between the two of us, we weren’t an extremely imposing team. But then, Lance wasn’t really my partner. Hennessey was.

And he’s going to be pissed.

Damn, I wished I weren’t going behind his back like this. I still felt a niggling resentment that he’d turned on me in Brody’s office, that he hadn’t given me a heads up if he’d been planning to ferret out information. But it didn’t make sense to berate him for that if I wouldn’t give him the same level of trust.

Martinez sighed, and I could see we’d won him over. Maybe it helped that we were such a ragtag team. We clearly needed all the help we could get.

“Ten minutes,” Martinez said. “So ask the important questions first, because I’m cutting you off a second longer.”

The woman, Mia Martinez, peeked around the man’s shoulder, an amused expression on her face. “Now that you’ve negotiated for my time, could I make one small request?”

Something flickered in Martinez’s face at her words. Negotiated for my time could have a different, darker meaning in Laguardia’s circles. Had she been pimped out? Passed around? If so, it would make sense she’d be sensitive to things being decided for her. But if Martinez regretted his heavy-handedness, he didn’t show it. He’d do anything to keep her safe, I realized, even hurt her.

Martinez murmured for her ears only, but I still heard him say, “You don’t have to talk to them at all, if you don’t want to. I can send them away.”

“No,” she said. “I want to. They should know what they’re going to be facing. But…only the girl. Okay?”

“Done,” Martinez said.

She sent Lance an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing personal, just that—”

Lance cleared his throat. The tips of his ears turned pink. “You don’t have to explain, Mrs. Martinez. Our goal as agents is to make you comfortable.”

Right out of the student handbook, kids.

Mia led me to a picnic table in their backyard. We left the men up front for what I imagined included a lot of glaring and posturing. In the shade, I got a better look at Mia. She was younger than I’d expected. I pictured the file…she would be twenty-eight, with wide eyes and porcelain skin that hinted at twenty.

But her eyes told a different story. She could have been ancient for all the weary knowledge in her eyes. It was a strange juxtaposition, one I recognized from Hennessey. I wondered how much they had in common. Another pang of guilt hit me. He should be here with me, interviewing her right now. He would know the right questions. Unlike me.

“Mrs. Martinez,” I began.

“Mia,” she corrected. “Please. I’m not so formal among friends.”

She was putting me at ease, and it worked. A slight blush heated my cheeks. She was really far too subtle for a guy like Laguardia, except she’d stayed with him for so many years. And then I knew what to ask.

“How did you meet Laguardia?”

She slanted me a look, as if trying to gauge my sincerity. I kept my expression still and open, because I was sincere. Unlike Hennessey, I wanted to understand the man behind the proverbial Wanted poster.

“He picked me up off the street,” she said finally. “I was young. Too young. He gave me food, clothing. Medical attention. Education. I would have died out there, starved or been beaten to death by a guy three times my age. But he took me in.”

He sounded like a saint. But we both knew better. “And he had sex with you.”

She nodded, unsurprised at the dark turn of the conversation. “He had sex with me. At the time, it seemed fair enough. Like payment. Nothing is free on the streets.”

“You said at the time. How do you see it now?”

“I’m not sure…” Her lips pressed together. “You’ll probably think I’m romanticizing it, and maybe I am, but I felt like we understood each other. It’s not easy, in that life, to open yourself up to someone, to become vulnerable. Even sex isn’t always intimate.”