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Ryder would give the Molinas one thing, they had balls. It took big stones to locate a smuggling cover operation dead in the local authorities’ysights. That either meant they were overly cocky or legitimately confident in their ability to get away with their crimes. Considering how the islanders reacted with either fear or guilt whenever she brought up the Molinas, it was probably the latter. Dirty cops were a reality all over the world. Still, as a cop’s kid, not notifying the police about a crime was akin to growing up with dentists for parents and never brushing your teeth.
She twisted in her seat to give Devin her full attention. “There’s a good chance the cops are on the family payroll.”
“Agreed.” He nodded. “Which is why this is a stupid move.”
She clenched her teeth and made it to five before exploding. When it came to her personal life her instincts were for shit, but when it mattered—when lives were on the line—her gut was good. “You’re not in charge of this investigation. I am. And I say we’re going to the cops.”
“Why?” He hurled the question at her like a hand grenade.
“Because shit is hitting the fan and I don’t like our odds. We won’t know for sure if the cops are bought until we get in there. We can’t assume. That’s how people get hurt.” Flames beat against her cheeks and she had to stop and take a deep breath. Calmer, she continued. “Keep everything close to the vest until we figure it out.”
Though he clearly didn’t like it, he grunted his assent and circled around to the back of the station, where he parked the Jeep in the lot bordering the alley. That would keep the hot pink vehicle out of sight from Dominga, who no doubt was on the lookout from her perch at the tea shop.
Devin turned off the motor. “You ready?”
Ryder glanced in the Jeep’s visor mirror at the bruises forming on the left side of her face and winced. “Why is it that cuts and bruises always hurt more once you actually see them?”
“Because life is a real bitch that way.” He wiped his thumb across the corner of his mouth, clearing away some of the dried blood, but a new trickle started as soon as he removed pressure. “Let’s get this winning plan over with.”
No longer
bathed in pain-blocking adrenaline, her body ached as they crossed the parking lot. Without even looking, she figured she could pinpoint at least fifteen bruises from her toes to her eyebrows. No broken bones, thank God, but enough hurt to slow her step and add a slight limp to compensate for a pain in her right thigh.
Devin wasn’t quite at his normal pace, either. Pea green bruises covered his swollen jaw. His left eye had puffed out, foretelling of a hell of a shiner tomorrow. What other injuries lay hidden under his white linen shirt and dark slacks, she could only guess at based on his deliberate pace and the way he held his right arm away from his side.
“Your ribs broken?” Ryder grabbed the handle of the glass door and pulled it open.
He shook his head. “Bruised. I’ll live.”
An overhead fan pushed stale, humid air around the barren front lobby. It was “decorated” by a few folding chairs, an empty desk, and large, full color portraits of The Andol Republic’s president and vice president. An older model computer monitor took up a third of the space on the desk, an empty wire in-and-out basket sat on the opposite side, and a hotel bell sat in the middle. A small folded note in front of the bell read: Receptionist at lunch. Ring for service.
She did. Nothing happened.
“Anyone home?” Devin’s voice boomed in the quiet room.
“I’ll be with you in one moment,” a voice called from the hallway to the right.
A second later, an officer wearing a light blue uniform shirt and tan khaki pants appeared in a wheelchair at the end of the hall. He rolled toward them. “Sorry about that, I just returned from lunch and the other officers on duty just left for theirs.” He stopped behind the desk. “Dios, what happened to you two? Shall I call for medical attention?”
“No, thank you.” Devin paused and looked at Ryder. “Unless you need it?”
Ryder shook her head. “No. Just banged up.”
The officer looked skeptical but let the idea of a hospital slide. “So how about you start at the beginning and walk me through what happened.” He pulled several sheets of paper from a desk drawer and retrieved a pen from a cup holder. “Let’s start with your names.”
She and Devin took turns explaining they were in The Andol Republic for the fashion week events, being sure to leave out that the old friend they were looking for had embezzled almost five million dollars, as well as exactly how they’d ended up at Sarah’s pineapple farm. The longer they told their story, the more the officer clammed up, and the more often he looked behind him as if waiting for the boogeyman to attack.
Ryder’s skin crawled. The officer might not be dirty but, judging by his nervous ticks, he wouldn’t going to be any help, either.
“And you just accidentally ended up at the Molina family farm…where thugs attacked you for no apparent reason?” the officer asked, a noticeable shake bouncing each syllable before it left his lips.
Telling him about the diamonds wasn’t going to do anything but give any dirty cops and the Molinas more motivation to hunt them down. As far as the Molinas knew now, she and Devin had never seen the stolen jewelry.
“That’s right,” she answered as she shot Devin a telling glance that she hoped yelled keep your mouth shut.
“They jumped us for no reason at all,” Devin all but growled.
The officer gulped and took a slow look around the nearly empty room, his eyes settling on the closed entry door before returning to them.
