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I pulled out a chair at the table, across from Muñoz. I raised my hand, waving my guys to be at ease. They could rest, but still keep their eyes, and guns, on the four goons around us. Muñoz and Santos did the same and we all became one happy fucking family.
“Tell me what you have. Who bailed out your nephew?”
Santos turned over an 8x10 photo in front of him and slid it my way.
“His name is—”
“Byron Schindler…” I finished, my eyes wide and staring at the glossy photo. It was a picture of Miguel talking to Byron next to a large black SUV. They looked to be engrossed in conversation. Santos floated more pictures my way of them coming out of a warehouse that I knew belonged to Santos, talking, conspiring.
“You know him?” Santos asked.
I kept staring at the photos he gave me.
“Yeah, I know him.”
“I take it you know about the shit he’s into then?”
I glanced up and met his eyes.
“Probably, but assume that I don’t and tell me,” I answered, my face void of the shock I felt. I had no fucking clue what Schindler was into. From the reports I got, he was clean. I made eye contact with Ivey, silently telling him something wasn’t adding up and I had a bad feeling.
He sent a nod my way showing me he agreed.
Santos began to tell me just how right I was, “Schindler has been working with my nephew for months now. He’s the source of the shipments of women we have. My idiotic nephew has been using Schindler to supply him with women to sell. According to a reliable source, Schindler supplies the women, trains them and gets them ready to be sold.”
Frowning, I asked, unconvinced, “And you had no idea?”
“Hey, I’ve been out of that game for a long time. Seriously. I had no idea my nephew was still trading. My primary focus has been fighting. Training women yes, selling them into slavery, no.”
I didn’t believe him for a second. The way this son of a bitch ran his operation, you couldn’t tell me he knew nothing about what his nephew was doing under his nose.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I know it’s hard to believe, but I had no idea. In fact, Muñoz has told me a lot of things my nephew has been doing behind my back. Despite what you might think, my business interests expand very wide. I don’t have time to babysit his sorry ass.”
“Looks like you fucked up then,” Ivey bit out shaking his head.
Santos paused for a second before nodding.
“Yes, it looks that way.”
“So you have no idea where he is, your nephew?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“No, I don’t. But I have my guys out looking. I will find him.”
I grunted and stood.
“Not before I find him first.” I told him, stepped from the table and was about to leave when Santos’s phone began to vibrate next to him. He glanced down at the screen and his eyes widened.
“Who is it?” I asked, moving closer to the table.
“It’s Miguel.”
“Answer it.” I instructed, then added, “Put it on speaker.”
Santos answered the phone and placed it back on the table.
Silence ensued for a few seconds then a very familiar voice boomed from the speakers of the phone.
“Hello, Detective… wonderful weather we’re having, wouldn’t you say? Kind of hot for my taste but none of the humidity.”
