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“And exactly what trouble am I in?” I asked tiredly.
No one had an immediate answer. As the silence drew out into something awkward, I let out a laugh of my own.
“Let me guess,bigtrouble?” I teased. “Reallybig trouble?”
“Fuck off, asshole.”
“Oh yeah,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Good one.”
I frowned, cursing myself silently. If I wanted to know what they knew, I should be playing along, at least a little. But I’d been here for four or five hours. My patience was wearing thin.
The cop who’d scowled at his partner earlier swung into one of the empty chairs. With one grubby finger, he tapped the paper in front of me.
“We intercepted this last night. Apparently it’s an internal message between members of the Lozano crime family.”
“Apparently?” I chuckled.
The cop grumbled but maintained his composure. He shoved the paper at me.
“It talks about someone with your last name,” he pointed.
“Lots of people have my last name.”
“Yes, but—”
“In this city alone,” I interrupted, “there’s probably hundreds.”
My response made him fidget even faster with his own folder. I could tell by the way it moved there was nothing inside it.
The tall cop who’d laughed at my initial joke shifted a little to catch my attention. When he had it, he made a sympathetic face.
“Look man, we’re trying to help you.”
“You are, huh?”
He nodded eagerly. “That message talks about what you did the other night. Pretty crazy shit.”
God, could their fishing expedition be any more obvious? I sighed in irritation, scanning the paper without trying to let them know I was. As it turned out, my name actually was there. Either they were surprisingly thorough, or maybe they were telling the truth.
“It also goes on to say you’re a problem that needs to be resolved,” the tall cop said.
“So?”
“So we thought maybe you could tell us about it. If you give us good enough reasons to do so, we might be able to protect you.”
I folded my arms, wondering what, if anything, I should tell them. As the seconds ticked by, the cop with the grubby fingers scowled again. He began waving his folder in my face.
“Look asshole, we know what you did,” he seethed. “We’re not waiting all day for you to—”
In one smooth movement I snatched the folder from his meaty hand. I upended it, showing that it was empty, then shoved it back in his face.
“He’s the good cop and he’s the bad cop,” I snarled, pointing between the tall guy and crew-cut. “So which one are you?” I demanded loudly. “Dumb cop? Waste-of-everyones-time cop? I gotta say, this is all new territory.”
The man’s face went a scarlet, crimson red. The folder I’d thrown fluttered for a moment before landing face-down on the floor.
“I don’t have any fucking idea why you dragged me in here,” I said, standing up. “But if you’re finally through wasting my time—”
“Serrano, Weiss,” the tall, skinny cop said suddenly. He jerked his chin toward the door. “I’ve got this.”
