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“But Hector said he didn’t know about the robbers or the jackets.”
“‘Hector said, Hector said,’” Fordham whined mockingly. “Here’s a hint, Pollari: Reyes is a fuckin’ scumbag. Maybe you need to not take fuckin’ scumbags at their word so often.”
“Amen,” Sid piped up.
“Look, it’s not what he said,” Jack argued (after a pissed-off glance at Sid), “it’s how he said it. I’ve got a good radar for when people are lying to me.”
Sid cleared his throat as he looked at me. “Maybe not so much.”
I shot him an eyeful of daggers. Shut UP.
The whole thing just pissed Jack off more.
Get in line, asshole, I thought.
“Ask yourself something else,” Fordham said. “The Santa Muertes have the biggest distribution network this side of the Mississippi. Who else is Lou going to offload all that meth to, huh?”
“He’s not selling it himself?” I asked, surprised.
“Pollari – you got any intel on a bunch of meth hitting the streets in Richards?”
“No,” Jack admitted.
“Neither do we. So yeah, he’s probably offloading it somewhere else.”
“Why didn’t you tell us all this an hour ago?” I demanded.
“Because my job is not to give you information I already have. YOUR job is to give ME information I DON’T have, which I can then use to put these fuckers away for a couple of thousand years. So go out and fucking get it.”
“By any means necessary?” Sid asked.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that question.”
“Is this one of those ‘ask forgiveness, not permission’ kinda things, or one of those ‘plausible deniability’ kinda things?” Sid persisted.
“What do YOU think?”
“Both.”
“I like your boss, Christenson. His head’s not as far up his ass as the two of you. Let’s just say don’t do anything you’d have to bribe a police chief to get out of, since HOPEFULLY that won’t be an option anymore.”
My anger flared at Fordham for using Ali’s murder and Jack’s betrayal so cavalierly, but I bit my tongue.
“Don’t call me again unless you’ve got cold, hard proof. Or unless you get a line on Eddie,” Fordham said, then hung up the phone.
57
We sat in the car after the call with Fordham, stunned.
Well, Jack and I did. Sid didn’t seem to have the same problem.
“Whatta dick,” he grumbled. “I kinda like him.”
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“We go over there and take down the meth lab guy,” Jack said.
“And do what?” Sid asked.
