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“Yeah,” I murmur since I’m not sure what else to say. “It’s me. I wanted to talk to you about Gregory Vallejo.”
Silence hangs for a loaded beat and drags on long enough for the elevator doors to open again on the maternity ward. Stepping out, I start in the direction I walked this morning.
“Henry?”
“What about him?”
I flash my badge at the uniforms on Eleanor’s door, before stepping through and finding the woman asleep in her bed, curled in and small, scarily similar to how Aurora sleeps.
“You know he’s back?” I lower my voice, so I don’t startle the sleeping woman, and pulling out the chair Rory sat in earlier, I lower down and simply watch. “You heard?” I clarify.
“I heard about the hit in Copeland City, and that his name has come up. How do you know about it?”
“Because I’m in Copeland City,” I respond easily, predictably pulling his attention and his breath to a stop. “The hit was made. The primary detectives caught my name rolled up in all his files, so they called me to ask questions. A girl witnessed the murder, and I just so happened to know the girl.”
“So you hopped a plane and went off to find him yourself,” he bites out. “Didn’t think to inform your team and brief them on the new intel?”
“Did you call and brief me?” I settle back in my chair and lift my ankle to rest it on the opposite knee. “You’d heard, Henry. You knew something was brewing. My phone didn’t ring with your name on the screen.”
“We haven’t confirmed his involvement yet.” He gives me the party line and treats me like a fucking street walking nobody. “You left, Drake. You chose to abandon the DEA.”
“They abandoned me!” I snarl quietly. “I was inside that club, Henry. My partner was murdered. I was left to fucking rot, and when I said I wanted out, you stripped me of every clearance, rank, and accolade I’d ever earned. Don’t talk to me about teamwork!”
“You don’t get to leave the agency but take the perks with you. You know that, Drake.”
“I wasn’t looking to keep the fucking title and badge. But I’d like to have been kept updated on the Vallejo file. I’d have liked to be informed if the motherfucker I thought I’d killed, was actually alive.”
“And like I already said,” he bites out, “we still have not confirmed such. We’re working on a five-year belief that Vallejo is dead. Nothing in those five years has indicated anything else.”
“Well now we have a witness who saw the shooting and heard his name.” Dropping my foot and leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and scrub my free hand over my jaw. “It’s not like Vallejo to hyper-focus on someone like this, Henry. She doesn’t know anything we don’t already know. She didn’t see anything others haven’t already seen. So why her?” I grit out, pressing my thumb against my temple. “Why are they so intent on taking her out?”
“How intent?” His voice evens out, now that we’ve taken shots at each other. With that out of the way, he’s happy to talk business, but only if it’s me offering information. “What’s he doing?”
“She was chased through the streets on the night of the murder. Her home was raided a couple nights later. And she was hit this morning in the hospital parking lot.”
“She was hit?” He drills down on that one detail. I can see him in my mind sitting forward just like I am. “She’s in the hospital?”
“No. She’s in a safe house. Flesh wound.”
“What safe house?” he demands. “Where?”
I choke out a soft laugh and sit back again. “You’re dreaming if you think I’m gonna tell you. All you need to know is that she’s secure, and she’s safe.”
“Withholding this information is illegal, son. As your special agent in charge, I demand—”
“But you’re not my special agent in charge,” I drawl. “You’re actually not shit as far as my career goes. You don’t have the authority to demand answers. And even if you try to go through my captain,” I click my tongue, “well, he doesn’t know where I am, either. I’m on personal leave right now, and short of you walking your ass over here and cuffing us together, I doubt you’re gonna get this information.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he snarls. “I have reach far wider than you know.”
“Power is an illusion, Henry. You have a badge and a rank and a big shiny gun. But so do I. We each command respect on the streets, but it’s all a crock of shit when it comes down to it. The second someone stands up and says no, well…” I glance across as movement pulls my attention. Eleanor smacking her dry lips. Her eyelids, fluttering. But she remains asleep, and her heart rate monitorsbeep-beep-beep. “I guess what I’m saying,” I continue, quieter now, “ismake me.”
“Drake!”
“What do you know about Vallejo? What of his movements over the last five years? What happened with Gord’s investigation? Give a little,” I add, when he sucks in a breath and preps to shout that he doesn’t answer questions, “and I’ll give a little.”
“Gordan Fuller’s death was filed as murder in the first,” he bites out. “In the line of duty. Vallejo and his men were pinned as suspects. Vallejo died that day, and Fuller’s shooter was apprehended. He’s currently five years into a thirty-to-life.”
“Still behind bars?” I demand. “Are you watching his comms?”
