CHAPTER 56
When they came out of the diner a police car was zipping past. It screeched to a stop and Cheryl Landry leaned her head out.
“You’re not going to believe this,” she began, before her gaze came to rest on Carson.
Puller noted this and said, “General Julie Carson, Officer Cheryl Landry.”
As Puller’s gaze swiveled between the two women he felt a pang of guilt. He had been out twice with Carson, though the first time was not a real date. However, he sensed the general was interested in something deeper than mere friendship. Landry clearly wanted a relationship with him. Thus having the two women together was deeply discomforting.
Carson nodded and said, “Nice to meet you, Officer Landry.”
“I’ve never met a general before.”
“Well, now you have, and we don’t look any different from anyone else,” said Carson.
“I won’t believe what?” said Puller.
“Two more murders. At the Plaza Hotel two blocks down. Two guys in a bedroom stabbed to death, it appears.”
“Two guys,” said Puller quickly.
Landry nodded. “I know what you’re thinking. I don’t know if it’s the same two who you think have been following you.”
“You want us to come?” asked Puller.
Landry glanced at Carson and then at Puller. Puller, sensing her indecision, said, “Make the offer to Bullock. He can make the call if he wants.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you pick up Jane Ryon?”
But Landry had already hit the gas and the car had sped off.
Puller looked at Carson. “Two more dead.” “Who knew Paradise could be so damn bloody,” said Carson. “And of course it can’t be a coincidence,” she added, raising her eyebrows at him.
“Don’t think so.”
“So we wait until we get the okay from this Bullock guy? And what about Ryon?”
“We can check her out. But while we’re here I want to find out something else.”
She followed him down the street and away from the beach. The sun seemed to be fighting its way to the top of the sky with astonishing speed. Carson wiped a bead of sweat off her brow and picked up her pace so she was walking next to Puller.
“What’s this place we’re heading to?” “Diego’s.”
They passed the Sierra and Puller arrived at the building with the blue awning. He marched up to the second story and knocked on the door. No one came.
He knocked again.
And then a third time.
He heard footsteps and relaxed slightly as Carson looked at him expectantly.
The door opened. Puller had thought it would be one of two people. Diego or Isabel. Well, maybe three if one counted little Mateo.
It was none of them.
The woman standing there was in her sixties, short and plump with brown hair streaked heavily with silver. Her face was thickly lined and a prominent mole had grown in the crevice between her cheek and nose. She was dressed in sweatpants, cheap sneakers, and a dark top. She looked curiously from Puller to Carson.
“Si?”
So this was the abuela, thought Puller, the grandmother.
“Habla inglés, senora?” asked Puller.
“Yes. Poquito”
“My name is John Puller. I know Diego and Isabel and Mateo. I helped them out the other day. They might have told you.”
“Yes, they tell me.” Then her face collapsed and her shoulders started to shake. Puller put a hand under her arm to keep the woman from
slumping to the floor.
“What’s wrong?” he asked her.
“Los nińos, they no here.”
“Where are they?” asked Puller.
“Donde estan los nińos?” amended Carson.
“No sé. Desaparecido.”
Puller looked at Carson. “They vanished?”
Carson nodded. “That’s what she said.”
Puller said, “Have you called the police? He llamado a la policía?”
She shook her head. “No policía. Nunca la policía.”
Carson said, “Doesn’t sound as though she likes the police very much.”
“She could be undocumented. And the kids too.”
“Right.”
Puller looked at the sobbing woman and said to Carson, “it could be the guys I beat up. But something feel me it’s not. But Diego did help me track down the two guys.”
“So the two guys made them disappear?”
“I guess that’s the most likely answer. Diego was following them. Maybe they spotted him and Isabel and Mateo were with him.” Puller felt sudden guilt for involving Diego in this.
“Unless the two guys are lying dead at the Plaza.”
“Still could have been them. Diego and his cousins might have escaped from them.”
“After killing the two guys?” Carson said skeptically.
Puller looked at the woman again. “Lo siento. Podemos ayudar de alguna manera?”
The woman shook her head and told Puller that only God could help her now. She shut the door and Puller stood staring off over Carson’s shoulder.
“Should we report it?” she asked.
“We might do more harm than good if the kids are okay. They might end up getting deported.”
“Better than being dead, John.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“We can ask around. Maybe someone has seen them.”
“That’s a good idea. Diego has some friends around here. They might know something.”
It took them twenty minutes to locate two of Diego’s friends. The first had not seen Diego for two days. The second one had seen him yesterday.
“Was he with anyone?” asked Puller.
The boy held out his hand.
Puller put a five-dollar bill in it.
“Yes.”
“Who?” asked Carson.
The boy held out his hand again.
Carson put a dollar bill in it. The boy said nothing.
Puller said, “You tell us something useful there’ll be more. Otherwise, the ATM is shut down for the day.”
The boy looked around and said, “He is with the dueńos de la calle.”
“The street kings?” said Puller.
“Yes. The street kings.”
“What is he doing with them?”
The boy held out his hand and Carson put another dollar bill in it.
“I think he is trying to join. If he is, he is stupid. They are a very bad gang.”
“What about Isabel and Mateo?” Puller asked. The boy withdrew his hand and put the cash in his pocket. He shrugged. “I do not know about them.”
“Where do we find the street kings?” asked Puller.
“You do not want to find the street kings, sewor,” said the boy.
“Actually, yes, I do. Where?”
Puller held out a twenty. “Ahora!”
The boy gave them an address and then ran off.
Puller looked at Carson. “You don’t have to go with me.”
“The hell I don’t. This is just getting interesting.”
“You have any weapons?”
“You’re asking a one-star if she has any weapons? Other women might like shoes and nail polish. I grew up on Winchesters and Colts on a farm in Oklahoma. So I brought some goodies with me.”
“Okay. So we might want to gun up for this.” “Hell, John, I don’t think there’s any ‘might’
about it.”