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“Updates?”
Garcia casually nods and puts his glass back down. “Woods’s case is slow but fairly open and shut. The dude he put down had defensive wounds on him – as though he had been in a fight – as well as gunshot residue on hands from recently firing the weapon he was killed with. Add those facts to his criminal record, which included but was not limited to charges of assault, harassment, and intimidation, and the shit’s basically a done deal. Woods actually did the world a heroic act. They might even give him a medal.”
“They won’t.”
“But they should,” my poker pal laughs off.
“What about my case?”
“Official complaint filed with the court on Monday – thanks to the amount of incompetence in this city I basically have a fucking template for civil suits – and we will be witnessing said complaint served to The Chief today.” He casually points a finger over my shoulder, wordlessly telling me to turn around to see the man who doesn’t know it’s coming. “That’ll happen around the time our check arrives here rather than at the precinct courtesy of that beautiful woman you saw me flirting with earlier. He’s been eye fucking her since he walked in here like I expected.”
“Isn’t he married?”
His head tilts condescendingly. “Aren’t they all?”
Rather than pull at that loose lug nut, I push forward for more information. “What about Davis and Northwood?”
“Clean.”
It’s me who suddenly displays a sarcastic look.
“Okay, dirty, but clean for them.”
“Meaning?”
“Northwood’s been known to let people off for small shit like speeding tickets or public intoxication or possession of a substance for a handful of bills while Davis has a similar relationship with quite a few number of high-class sex workers hence the reason his wife left him.”
Even if he wasn’t fucking around on her the guy’s not exactly fun to be in the presence of.
“Neither have anything out of the ordinary going on in their emails or bank accounts or movements.”
“What about the other cops that were there?”
“All clean. Except,” he lifts a finger to indicate more information is coming, “one of the officers actually switched shifts to be on the raid. The officer on the scene? Clean. The one who initiated the swap? Not so much. There’s footage of him taking calls on a burner phone during his lunch breaks. Picking up a package at a random mailbox that wasn’t his. And a large deposit pre the raid followed by another post. We’re looking deeper into him.” Garcia shakes his head in irritation as he leans back in his seat. “You know if you’re gonna take a payoff, be smarter about the shit. Small increments. Random amounts. Do it on different days. Do it near major sporting events. It’s a lot easier to pass off as gambling winnings.”
Amusement can’t be kept out of my expression. “You givin’ me tips?”
“No, I’m regurgitating common knowledge.”
“Is that common?”
“Depending on the circles you choose to swim in, absolutely.”
Light laughter bounces back and forth between us before I ask, “What about Rabbit’s case?”
To my surprise, his entire demeanor not only noticeably shifts, it has him retrieving his booze. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”
My hand gestures in his direction to continue.
To just rip the shit out like a bubbled-up tint job.
“Good news is Zero has managed to start collecting a shit ton of information against McAdams. Everything from ‘lost’ witness statements, to concerned citizens reports, to fired staff – both from work and home. Even the chick who cuts his hair says he’s a terrifying lunatic – off the record.”
“Of course.”
“Anything your woman has told you about him is far from an exaggeration as it can possibly be. Honestly? I’m feeling a little more like it was an undersell.”
New hunks of dread slowly begin churning, mixing with the ones that have been lingering since she first found the note. “And the bad news?”
“McAdams is actually here in Spike Village ‘on business’.” Garcia has one large gulp prior to quietly announcing, “He landed first thing this morning.”
***
