Standing at the kitchen counter, Slater drank deeply from his coffee. “Why’s that?”
“He’s the man Frankie went to Crescent City to be near. She trusts – trusted – him. I’d like to check him out. He might give us some answers.”
“Maybe,” Slater said doubtfully.
“He’s known Frankie since her father went to prison. If nothing else, he can tell us about Roger Milano’s case and the trial.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Long as there’s a guard on Frankie’s door,” Cruz warned, and left for his apartment to pack an overnight bag.
Walt Steiner greeted them at check-in, and after surrendering their weapons and badges, Cruz and Slater followed the visitation officer to a shoebox of an office.
“You didn’t give me much information on the phone,” Steiner began, suspicion darkening his hazel eyes. “If I wasn’t so worried about Frankie, I wouldn’t have agreed to this meet.”
“I understand, sir,” Cruz began, only to be interrupted.
“Don’t bother with excuses, just get to the point.” Steiner was a beefy man, average height and broad, with weathered skin and a military-cut hair style. “Is she all right?”
Cruz and Slater exchanged glances. On the long drive to Crescent City, they’d discussed how much to tell Steiner about Frankie and the events in Rosedale.
“Yes,” Cruz replied. “Frankie was, ah, injured in a car accident, but she’s recovering and we have a guard on her hospital room.”
Steiner sat in his chair, leaned against the too-small desk, his thick arms covering the pad. “What happened? Wasn’t she in the Rosedale house?”
Cruz took the plastic chair opposite Steiner’s desk, although the man hadn’t asked them to sit down. “She was attacked in her father’s home.”
“She wasn’t injured,” Slater added quickly, “but we moved her to another place.”
“What?” Steiner jumped to his feet, like a boxer ready to face an opponent. “Nobody knows about that house. She’s changed her last name. The house is in her father’s name. No one knows that.”
“Her name?” Puzzlement crossed Cruz’s face. “What are you talking about?”
Steiner collapsed into his chair, sighing. “She didn’t tell you?”
Cruz shook his head.
“It’s not my place to reveal her secrets,” Steiner began. “Let’s just say that Frankie changed her last name about a dozen years ago.”
“Why?”
“Actually, it was her father’s idea. To protect her against anyone wanting retaliation and using Frankie to get it. He didn’t want her associated with him.”
Cruz kept shaking his head like an idiot. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to, young man,” the grizzly older officer snapped. “You just have to keep her safe.”
“I’m trying,” Cruz snapped back, feeling the sting of Steiner’s words.
“Frankie can tell you what she wants you to know,” Slater advised Cruz trying to cool down the heated conversation.
He addressed Steiner directly. “We’re also here about another matter – the Lords of Death.”
If Steiner was puzzled by this statement, nothing showed on his face. “What about them?”
“We figure they’re into some kind of new – let’s just call it – enterprise. Something to do with a loyalty ritual for incoming gang members. ‘Blood in and blood out?’ We want to know who’s in bed with them.”
“You figure this has something to do with Frankie’s attack?”
Cruz decided Steiner wouldn’t help them if they didn’t tell him everything – well, almost everything. “Frankie was attacked and threatened in the prison parking lot, right here, before she fled to Rosedale.”
“Ah hell, I knew it was something bad.”
“Then why didn’t you go to her, check up on her?” Cruz accused the older man.
The man shifted on his chair, his eyes hooded. “I told her where to go, but then I – I got tied up with something.”
“Well, she’s had two attacks on her, not counting the one that’s landed her in the hospital right now.” Cruz wondered belatedly if he should be so frank with the man.
“We think it has something to do with an investigation she was making into the medical records of inmates who were members of the Lords of Death,” Slater continued.
Walt frowned in confusion. “She told me nothing about that. What trouble has she gotten into?”
“You’ve got some C.O.’s on the take, Steiner,” Slater warned. “And it’s related to two homicides in my county, maybe a third one.”
After a long moment Walt stood, clearly dismissing them. “I can’t help you. We have confidentiality issues here at Pelican Bay.”
“My ass,” Slater said, as they left. “He’s covering for something.”
“Or someone,” Cruz added, thinking they’d might never know who.
Chapter 63
November, Present Day