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"Connect me, Álvaro. Right now, my prime lead involves two women."
"Seriously?" He's surprised, but he never questions her dedication.
"Seriously. And I need you to get an order for the bank to give us all transactions from that bar between midnight and 3 AM."
"Judge Herrero is on duty. Shouldn't be a problem," he replies.
Álvaro snaps his fingers to grab the attention of a corporal, phone pressed to his shoulder, awaiting instructions. The lieutenant signals him to pass the call to Sergeant Cruz, and the young man adjusts the phone to his ear.
The lieutenant retreats to his office, leaving Cruz to take a seat. She grabs her notepad, jotting down the bar's name, La Tapia, in bold letters. Circling it, she signals to Corporal Gustavo Molina, part of her team since the case was assigned this morning.
"As soon as we have the order, get data on any woman who paid with a credit card at this place last night," she instructs, handing him the note.
"I'll get on it right away," Gustavo replies.
"Any more images?" she asks.
"In all the images we've got so far, nothing relevant. Same old story – license plate and model, but no occupants. As for the assailants, the vehicle's plate matches a stolen SUV reported two nights ago. It turned up near the port. We're analyzing it, and I've sent a couple of agents to check the area's cameras."
Cruz Ortega, in any other circumstance, would be furious. Yet, not this time. She restrains her anger, knowing they can track down the woman once they get the bank's data. She's aware that even with the order today, it'll take time – offices shut on weekends, and no matter how many calls they make, they won't get anything until Monday. As for the assailants, she holds a potent tool – her two informants. A supposedly retired car thief with connections to the city's underbelly through his strategically located bar in a troubled zone. Cops always have their own sources, people with charges still roaming free in exchange for valuable intel when needed. Her other source is a small-time drug dealer who deals grass on a minor scale. He'll pay them a visit when he takes the call.
Chapter 15
"Still there?" the agent asks Abigail a long minute later.
"Yes," she replies, nerves strangling her voice.
"I'm transferring you to Sergeant Ortega, she's in charge. Don't hang up, please."
Abigail and Gretel exchange glances, nodding with sighs of relief. Gretel holds Abigail's hand again, not just to offer comfort but also because she's grateful Abigail is the one making the call. If it were Gretel, stammers and potential slips would have already revealed them.
"I'm Sergeant Ortega. Who am I speaking to?" the woman on the other end responds.
"Who I am doesn't matter; what matters is what I can tell you," Abigail replies, a confidence that freezes Gretel, whose left leg moves compulsively.
"Fine, I'm listening," Cruz Ortega says, pen in hand, despite low expectations for the call.
"I know what happened to Mikel Blanco."
"Listen," the sergeant interrupts, exhaling. "I've got a lot on my plate, can't afford to waste a second. If you're calling to tell me something I already know, do us both a favor and hang up."
Abigail feels her heart race even faster.
"You haven't let me finish," Abigail protests.
"Then make it quick," Cruz presses.
"I know where that man is. Does that sound better?"
"It depends on whether you can prove what you're saying is true."
"Alright, I'm listening," Cruz Ortega responds, pen in hand, though not holding high expectations for the call.
"I know what happened to Mikel Blanco."
"Listen," the sergeant interrupts with a sigh, "I've got a lot of work ahead, and I can't afford to waste a second. If you're calling to tell me something I already know, do us both a favor and hang up."
Abigail feels her heart racing even faster.
