‘And then what?’
‘Give me some time to get a plan. I’m going to figure this out, and I am going to take care of you, even if it means moving you and Anthony into one of my houses, putting a guard outside the door, to buy you some space to think about this.’
‘Oh Marcus.’ Jo sounded heartbreakingly hopeful. ‘Would you really do that? Could you?’
‘Just give me some time,’ he said. ‘I need to pray on it a bit, figure out the right thing to do.’
‘Thank you!’ Jo’s voice was almost euphoric. ‘Marcus, thank you.’
There was more kissing.
Again Jo pulled away first. ‘I need to pick up Anthony. Thank you, Marcus. Thank you.’
The door clicked open then shut as Jo left the room.
Angie heard her soft footsteps out in the hall.
‘Shhiiiit,’ Marcus whispered from the next room. The mattress squeaked. There were ten beeps as he dialed his phone.
Marcus Rippy might very well pray on the situation, but Angie knew exactly who he was going to call on to fix it.
‘Kip,’ Marcus said. ‘We got a big fucking problem.’
WEDNESDAY, 3:18 PM
Angie rode the elevator up to the twenty-seventh floor of the Tower Place office building. Not the twenty-eighth or -ninth floor, where 110 was located, but the one below that Angie had never been to. Dale had texted her to meet him there. He’d told her to come as soon as possible.
Paranoia teased up the hair on the back of her neck as she watched the lights announce the floors. Had Dale figured out that Angie was on Jo’s side? He had a weird sixth sense, especially where Angie was concerned. She didn’t like surprises. She held her purse tight to her body. She should’ve loaded her gun. This didn’t feel right. There was no reason for Dale to text her to meet him on a different floor.
No good reason, anyway.
The elevator doors slid open. Angie hesitated before stepping out. The floor was under construction. Lights dangled from their cords. Stacks of building materials and buckets of paint created a maze. Outside, the windows showed blue sky. Inside was ominous, filled with shadow.
If Angie was going to kill somebody, this would be as good a place as any.
She walked around the room, picking her way past the stacks of paint cans and rolling scaffolding. She thought about the iPad with the rabbit ears, the one that held a download of everything on Reuben Figaroa’s kitchen laptop. Angie hadn’t had time to search for the video that Jo had shown Marcus Rippy. She assumed that Marcus had told Kip about the backup and she guessed that Kip would find a way to wipe the machine clean. Whether or not that meant the iPad would wipe clean, she had no idea. Angie couldn’t call Sam Vera for help. He was Dale’s guy, like just about everybody she knew. In the end, all she could think to do was tear off the antennae, shut the thing down, and leave it in the safe at the OneTown Suites.
For five thousand dollars, she hoped like hell the manager really did know how to take a pay-off.
‘Progress,’ Dale said.
Angie almost jumped out of her skin. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’
Dale seemed to enjoy the effect. ‘Kip’s upstairs with Rippy.’
‘Then why are we down here?’
‘Because there ain’t no security cameras down here.’
Angie swallowed to clear the dust from her throat. She made herself walk toward him, open, nothing to hide. ‘Why the cloak-and-dagger?’
‘Something with Rippy. That’s all I know.’
Angie let go some of her tension. Of course that’s why they were here. She’d heard Marcus call Kip with the problem. She should’ve anticipated that Kip would call in Dale, who would call in Angie.
She glanced around the room, pretending like she hadn’t already scoped out the exits and hiding places. ‘What’s going on here?’
‘Progress,’ Dale repeated. ‘One-Ten is expanding. Now that the All-Star deal is going forward, they need a whole team to manage the branding, make sure the athletes are out front and center, keep all of their noses clean. Laslo’s gonna run it.’
Angie nodded, because that made sense. Sports management didn’t just mean negotiating contracts. They managed every aspect of the athletes’ lives.
‘You hear back from Denny?’
Angie had forgotten about Dale’s bookie problem. She looked at her phone. Denny had texted her back three hours ago. She scrolled through a long explanation about how much trouble he was going to get into for rounding up every whore on Cheshire Bridge before she got to the only part that mattered. ‘He says they’ll do it tonight.’
‘Good.’ Dale said, ‘I gave the lawyer that paperwork for the trust. It’s official.’
‘Have you told Delilah yet?’
He shook his head. ‘I want you to tell her.’
The last thing Angie wanted to do was tell a junkie she’d hit the mother lode. Then again, he could be lying just for the sake of lying. Dale liked to fuck with people. She asked, ‘How do I get in touch with her? Is she staying at your place?’
‘She’s moved into her mama’s old place. I figured Kip would clean out my pad at the Mesa the minute I’m gone.’ He coughed into his hand. ‘If the job falls on you to turn it over, don’t go into the attic. There’s just a bunch of papers up there. Old cases and shit.’
Angie wasn’t going anywhere near Dale’s house. ‘Sure.’
‘You’ll wanna stay out of the bathroom, too. Different reasons.’
The elevator dinged. Kip and Marcus were talking in low murmurs that drained away when they saw Angie and Dale. She tried not to think about the hope in Jo’s voice when Marcus mentioned putting up Jo and Anthony in one of his houses, protecting them from Reuben Figaroa with an armed guard if necessary.
The only person Marcus Rippy was ever going to protect was himself.
Dale asked, ‘Where’s Laslo?’
‘Not here.’ Kip told Marcus, ‘You should go back upstairs, bro. Let me handle this.’
Marcus shook his head. ‘This ain’t like those other situations, man. I’m not going to let you hurt her.’
Angie studied Marcus Rippy’s face. He looked conflicted, which made a sort of sense if you didn’t already know how this was going to end. Angie had spent most of her professional life talking people into doing things they knew were wrong, whether it was getting a suspect to flip on his buddy or bribing someone into changing their testimony before a trial. Without exception, everybody’s weak spot always ended up being some combination of self-preservation and money.
Dale asked, ‘Who are we supposed to not be hurting?’
Kip gave Marcus another chance to leave. When he didn’t, Kip answered, ‘Jo Figaroa has a video.’
‘Of what?’ Dale asked.
Marcus said, ‘None of your fucking business.’
Dale glanced at Angie. She kept her expression as still as she could.
‘It doesn’t matter what’s on the video.’ Kip crossed his arms. Angie realized this was one of the rare times she’d seen him without a bottle of BankShot or a basketball. He said, ‘Jo has the video on her phone. That’s all you need to know.’
Angie asked, ‘Are there copies?’
‘We’re taking care of that.’
That explained Laslo’s absence. Kip would’ve sent him to get the laptop before Jo could get home from school with Anthony.
Dale said, ‘There’s a computer—’
‘The copy isn’t on a computer,’ Kip interrupted. ‘Laslo has it handled. End of discussion.’
Angie considered the lie. Marcus would have already told Kip that the incriminating video came from Reuben’s laptop. The first question out of the agent’s mouth would’ve been to ask about copies. Kip was holding back as much information from Dale and Angie as he could, which actually benefitted Angie. Dale knew the laptop had been cloned onto the iPad. Apparently Kip did not.
Angie said, ‘I can hire a skell to apple-pick the phone right out of her hand. Problem solved.’