“Always fun to work with you, Rogan.”
“Likewise.” Sean hung up. He loved working with tech people. He understood them far better than cops.
“He’s probably briefing her about the gang shooting,” Barry said.
It was an obvious ploy to get Sean to talk, and it almost worked.
“Donnelly is a friend,” Sean said. He wanted to ask what shooting, but stopped himself. He would find out soon enough what Crawford was talking about.
“I figured he was, since he wanted Lucy to work the case with him.” Crawford stood and stretched. “We’re not on opposite sides here, Rogan.”
“I didn’t think we were.”
“Good.”
Sean didn’t know what Barry’s game was, if any. Maybe he wasn’t being calculating, but he was acting like the all-powerful fed, which irritated Sean. He recognized that it was his own biases that sometimes rubbed cops the wrong way. He’d had a few run-ins over the years, particularly in his youth. He’d seen cops abuse their authority more than once.
But he wasn’t going to say anything to jeopardize the respect that Lucy had earned in her office, or to risk the job she loved. So he kept his mouth shut.
They walked out together and Sean, against his better judgment, said, “Do you want to come over to the house? It’s not too far from here, in Olmos Park.”
Barry looked marginally surprised. “No, but thanks. Maybe next time. It’s already eight and tomorrow is going to be another early day.”
*
Sean walked into his kitchen fifteen minutes later. He dumped his laptop on the counter and breathed in the smell of barbecue coming from the warming oven.
“Sean,” Lucy called, “we’re in the living room.”
He walked down the wide hall and into the large, sunken living room. The pool lights automatically turned on at eight, and the setting sun cast an array of brilliant colors across the evening sky.
Brad rose and shook Sean’s hand. “Good to see you, Rogan.”
“Likewise. You look a million times better than the last time I saw you.”
“I’d feel even better if I can convince my doc to look at me tomorrow rather than Friday. He just needs to sign the damn papers so I can go back into the field.”
Sean leaned over and kissed Lucy, then motioned for them to follow him to the kitchen. “I’m starving, and I know Lucy probably hasn’t eaten since lunch. Have you eaten?”
“Cold pizza in the break room,” Brad said.
“Then join us.”
Sean and Lucy liked eating at the big island in the kitchen. There were six stools and plenty of room, so while Sean took out the food, Lucy distributed plates and utensils. Sean handed Brad a beer and took one for himself. After light conversation, Sean asked, “So what really brings you by tonight?”
“There was a shooting last night,” Lucy said. “Ryan’s working with Brad on it.”
Brad said, “Nine people, several with a direct connection to Sanchez, were murdered late last night. The killers left drugs worth a million behind. Ryan found a surveillance tape with an image of the escape van, but the quality sucks and the license plate is filthy. There are some distinguishing characteristics, so we’re putting out a BOLO and working on an enhancement.”
“Who’s going after Sanchez?” Sean asked. “He’s dead. His operation is toast.”
“Actually, your brother thinks Tobias took over the remnants of the Sanchez/Trejo operation.”
“You talked to Kane?”
“He gave me the heads up this morning,” Brad said. “It could be that Tobias was always the one in charge and Trejo worked for him. The conversation Lucy overheard two months ago at Trejo’s compound suggested that Tobias was either equal to or in the hierarchy above Trejo. If that’s accurate, someone else could be going after Tobias since he’s now in a weak position.”
“Or,” Sean countered, “Tobias is taking out the rest of Sanchez’s people after Sanchez screwed up his operation. If they hadn’t kidnapped you, Brad, we wouldn’t have raided his compound. We might never have found the guns. That’s all Sanchez’s doing.”
“We still would have gone after the boys,” Lucy said quietly.
Sean took her hand. “Yes, we would have.”
“Kane thinks the hit was retaliation. I half expected him to call me back to find out what I learned, but I haven’t heard from him, and I don’t know how to reach him.” Brad drained his beer. Sean got up to fetch another, but Brad shook his head. “I’m good.”
Sean grabbed himself another beer and leaned against the counter. “Who are the other players?”
“That’s the thing—there’s no chatter on this. Nothing. I need to talk to Kane. Do you know how to reach him?”
“I can leave him a message. No guarantee he’ll call me or you back. He’s annoying that way.”