“I’m glad to see you’re so happy about me almost getting shot.”
“Being ‘almost shot’ is part of the job. I’ll cry you a river when you actually do get shot.”
“That’s very reassuring. By the way, I heard a name I didn’t recognize.”
“Shoot.”
“Queen Bee.”
“Queen Bee? That’s the street name of the lady who runs most of the drug volume in South Houston. Los Familia is the name of her cartel.”
“I’ve heard the name of that gang.”
“Queen Bee owns a lot of local businesses, but it’s all a front for her cartel. Moore was a member of her organization. So was Miller. The dealer you met works for her?”
I nod. “What’s her real name?”
“Ebony Thorne.”
“Why isn’t she locked up?”
“The FBI has been after her for a while. They know where she lives—everyone knows where she lives. It’s half an hour west of Houston. I could even take you there if you like. But they can’t get anybody to confess against her and we have nothing to arrest her on. They’ve tried everything and so has HPD, but nobody can ever get any hard proof that she’s the head of Los Familia.”
“Maybe we can get the dealer I tagged today to confess?”
“I doubt it. She keeps her dealers and suppliers scared. And most of the people you’ll come across who work for her don’t know anything that could be of real use.” After a quick silence, Bryan changes the topic. “So, tonight.”
“What about tonight?”
“You have any plans?”
“I don’t have a life, Bryan. You know that.”
“Which is why I took the liberty of making a reservations over at Brenner’s Steakhouse for 7:30pm.”
“…what’s the occasion?”
“It’s your one-month anniversary today. Or have you forgotten?”
I’m slow to respond. “I guess I have… is this something worth celebrating with steaks?”
“Well, you haven’t died or quit yet. So yeah, I think it is.”
Chapter 9
The Line
It’s a pretty nice joint. Not a five-star place and not somewhere you’d catch James Bond eating, but not a cheap dump either. The waiter seems to know Bryan well. At least well enough that he gives us a free appetizer. You can’t go wrong with lobster shrimp.
Bryan is wearing a pair of black slacks and a dark grey blazer over his white dress shirt. I never imagined he would clean up so nicely. But I don’t look to shabby myself in my knee-length and short sleeved, emerald green dress. My partner gets a twelve-ounce sirloin and insists that I buy nothing less than a filet. It doesn’t take much persuasion for me to comply.
The restaurant is mostly empty as it nears closing time. I’m not a drinker, but I can’t say the same for Bryan. He puts it down quickly and has had a bit much in the way of drinks as our meal closes. Some people tend to start slurring their words when they get intoxicated, while others become bipolar. But it seems the more he drinks, the only thing that happens to Bryan is that he grows more open.
Setting his nearly empty glass of wine back on the table, he looks at me. “So how does your one-month-anniversary feel?”
I think about it for a moment. “Same as my first day. Only scarier.”
“Being scared is good. It keeps you alive.” Bryan glances down at his bottle. “And in our line of work, not everybody makes it out alive. Sometimes it’s your best friends who die.” His gaze returns onto me. “I’m sure you’ve figured out what happened to my last partner.”
I almost don’t know if it’s appropriate for me to answer that question. I’m not sure if he even wants a response. But my reply rolls right off my tongue. “…what was his name?”
“Jack... Jack Wise.” A slight smile forms on Bryan’s face as countless memories flash in his eyes. “He was a total pain in the ass when we first met. He’d only been in the force for two years when I joined up as a young hotshot. Saying that we didn’t get along at first is putting it lightly. I almost asked for a new partner after our second week together. Sound familiar?”
I smirk without replying.
“But our work made us soldiers-in-arms. And we soon became brothers. He was the best man at my wedding and was there for the birth of my child. He was the second person to hold my son after me. We were best friends. Our weeks would go by together at work, and our weekends would comprise of fishing and camping.” He takes a deep breath. “Those were the days… the best days…”
There is a pause.
“But one day, he went out to meet an informant—a trusted one. It was routine. I asked him if he wanted back-up. Something made me insist. Something inside told me not to let him go alone. He declined and I let him go without a fight… but he never came back. His body was found two days later. He’d been stabbed seven times and left to bleed out in some gutter.”
Bryan utters those words with complete disgust before looking down.
“They never caught the killer. Only a few people attended his funeral. Outside of my wife, everyone there was from the force. His parents were dead. He didn’t have any friends.” He takes another deep breath. “But that’s what this job does to you, Ana. It sucks the life out of you and then leaves you for dead. It makes you live two lives and you have to fight every second of every day for them not to cross into one another. But one day, you’ll find yourself letting go of your civilian life—letting go of everyone and everything you hold dear and fully embracing this… this darkness.”
I don’t know if I should ask the next question, but I can’t stop myself. “Is that what happened to you?”
Bryan solemnly nods. “Before this job, I didn’t do… this.” He holds up his glass. “I had a bright personality… just like you. I was a completely different man. I was the man that my wife fell in love with.”
“Does she know?”
“Mary knows what I do for a living. But even still, our relationship went downhill right after marriage because of this job. Our son is the only reason we didn’t get a divorce. But one day, she told me that she needed time away. Worst part is that she took our son.” He shuts his eyes for a moment. “That was four months ago… six months after Jack’s death. It’s what this line of work does. It kills you or it leaves you dead inside. And when your death does come, you die alone. There’s nobody to mourn you except for the comrades you leave behind.”
I remain silent.
“And no matter what we do, no matter how hard we fight, we can never win. For every criminal we lock up, another pops up to take their place. No matter how many screws we take out, we can’t stop the machine. Nobody cares about the sacrifice we make. The public seems to despise our uniform no matter what. It’s like we’re not even human to them. We can never be good enough. Bad cops make the headlines while good cops are cast aside without a second thought.”
There is an uneasy stillness before he continues.
“You want some real advice, Ana? Get out. Get out of this while you still can.”
***
Nate Hopkins does get locked up. However, like Bryan predicted, he doesn’t say a word against Ebony Thorne. Turns out, most of the dealers I’ve been busting work for the same cartel—Los Familia—but none of them ever confess. Bryan wasn’t exaggerating when he said Ebony keeps her people trapped in a clench of fear.
Days turn to weeks. Bryan and I continue our one-two-punch combo. The more we work together, the more he really starts to open up. He tells me about his childhood, his son, and, occasionally, his wife. His son just started playing Little League and turned six a few days ago, but Bryan did not attend the birthday party.
And in return, I tell him about myself. The more we learn about each other, the better we become in our work. Bryan and I seem to possess the same kind of relationship I have with my own brother. We’re from two different worlds, but our duty links us together.
We average three or four deals a week, which is double the a
verage for the normal narcotics officer. Cap loves it. Mark Davidson hates it. He tries to push my buttons every once in a while, making excuses as to why I’m having the success. He says it’s because I’m a woman or because I’m Hispanic. But the truth is simpler than that.
Bryan and I are simply better at our jobs.
The more time that passes, the more I hear about Queen Bee from the dealers I come into contact with. But even though they’re in her organization, none of them possess any real dirt on her. All the dealers we make exchanges with are busted within two to four weeks after the exchanges. They plead guilty almost every time. However, none of them are willing to work with us to help bring Los Familia down, even after the promise of no jail-time.
During these weeks and months, I start to compile my own list of suspected dealers that operate on our turf. I have our informants keep an eye out for them. And when they do spot them, I make contact and do what I can to bring them down. As time goes, ‘Ana’s Most Wanted List’ slowly shrinks in size. But every once in a while, I add another name to the list.
On the anniversary of my third month, I receive a letter from Texas’ Attorney General congratulating me on my work. Apparently, Captain Scott was bragging to his superior. My first instinct is to show it to my mother. I even pick up the phone to call her.
But then I remember. The life of Officer Rocha is separate from the life of Ana Rocha. Officer Rocha’s life is full of guns, crime, and drugs. Ana’s is full of smiles, warmth, and sunshine. The thing I fear more than anything is the day the line between them breaks and they mix. And with that fear in mind, I don’t make the call.
***
Bryan’s advice from my one-month anniversary hits home soon after I receive the congratulatory letter.
I jolt up from another nightmare. It’s almost a nightly habit now. I’m drenched in my own sweat and my heart rate is out of control. The nightmare was just like the one that has been haunting my dreams for a while. There was chaos in the streets. Destruction surrounded me. And so did corpses.
Calming myself down after several moments, I finally get myself off of my bed. The morning routine goes like any other: brush my teeth, eat breakfast, and freshen up. But then I open my bedroom’s closet.
And what I see makes my partner’s words all the more clearer. As I stare at the numerous outfits hanging there, I notice something. Something that I’ve failed to notice before. It’s been slowly happening over the past months, but I never realized it until now.
The clothes of Officer Rocha outnumber those of Ana.
Chapter 10
Bryan
Bryan and I don’t have any meets today, and none of our informants call either. That leaves us with only two options: paperwork or meeting ‘new friends’ at local hotspots. And for me and Bryan, there’s only one right answer here. After some of the recent excitement, I don’t mind the slower day. It’s long overdue. A part of me actually wishes that we don’t even run into any potential dealers and end up just driving around town all day. Sometimes those are the best kinds of days.
As always, Bryan drives. He’s the typical man who won’t let anyone else drive his car no matter what. He could be in a full body cast and coma, but still wouldn’t let me even think about touching the wheel. This car is his kingdom. But what else can you expect from a good ‘ole country boy like him?
I resign to simply staring out the window as we move along the famous 610 loop. Everything inside is Houston, and everything outside the loop is a wanna-be-Houston. I look out at the towering skyscrapers of downtown and of the Medical Center that nearly touch the clouds. Whenever it gets really cloudy, you can’t even see the tops of these lofty buildings. Driving quietly with Bryan is always one of the best relaxers; in some ways, it’s almost as effective as visiting Angela’s tomb. Bryan usually lets me get lost in my thoughts and entertains himself with a sports channel or country music. Today is no different.
However, after a few minutes of a peaceful drive, he breaks the silence. “What did you think about the letter?”
Bryan’s words bring me back into reality, causing me to look his way. “The Attorney General’s?”
“You receive any other congratulatory letters lately?”
I slightly smile. “It was… unexpected. I didn’t think he’d notice us little people.”
“He normally doesn’t. Actually, almost nobody does.” He shoots me a quick glance. “But I think I would have appreciated a raise more than a letter. Or at least a bonus.”
“I wouldn’t get my hopes up too much for that.”
“Yeah… a letter is probably as good as it’ll get.”
Bryan turns the car onto the exit for 59 South, which will lead us to Sugarland. With the suburb’s building ordinances, you can hardly tell any of the red-bricked strip malls or buildings apart. Even with all the wealth in the city, it’s not hard to find drug dealers in the suburb. But maybe the area’s wealth is what attracts the dealers. Who knows?
The sports radio is lowly playing throughout the beat-down car. The last three days have been country music. It’s made me sick to my stomach, so I’m grateful for the change-up today. Two men are going on about the Astros. Apparently, this 1999 season will be their last season in the Astrodome. Next year, they’ll be playing in Enron Stadium. It sounds so weird for a stadium’s name. Hopefully it doesn’t stick too long.
As the regular season starts its final stretch over the next couple of months, it looks like the Astros have a good chance to edge out the Reds for the NL Central Division Title. But with the Astros, you can never count our marbles until it’s all over. However, with people like Biggio playing the way they are, the Astros have a good chance to make a playoff run. I’ve never been much of a baseball person myself, but after listening to so many talk shows with Bryan, I know enough to debate an expert. I could probably hold my own against these two whack-jobs on the show right now.
The Houston skyscrapers are far behind us as we continue south towards Sugarland. The highway is mostly empty this time of day. During rush hour, this trek would take us nearly three times as long. Driving past a few empty baseball fields, I see Bryan cast them a long look.
“Missing your baseball days?” I ask.
“Oh, no.” He focuses back at the road. “I only played because of my father. I was always more of a football man myself. Sadly, I could never really get Kevin into chasing pigskin. Believe me, I’ve been trying to turn him into a star quarterback ever since he could walk. He has a heck of an arm. But he loves baseball. Always has. All he ever talks about is Little League and the Astros. And he’s good too.”
Bryan hardly ever mentions his son, Kevin. Maybe it’s because he’s barely seen him these past few months, being that his son stays with Bryan’s estranged wife.
“Kevin can pitch, field, and bat. That’s a rare combination nowadays,” Bryan continues. “Nobody on his team can even come close to him on anything.”
“I’m sure he appreciates that.”
“Appreciates what?” With a quick movement, he switches off the radio.
“You getting into baseball just for him. I take it that’s why you listen to this talk show with those two goobers.”
“It gives us something to talk about when I’m with him. At least for the few times I get to see him now.” When he talks about his son or even mentions him, a joyful light flashes in Bryan’s eyes.
I’m always hesitant to ask about his son, not wanting to stir anything up. But with him mentioning his son first, the moment feels right. “What’s his team’s name?”
“The Katy Sharks.”
“How’s his season going?”
“It’s good… it’s going good.” Bryan doesn’t look my way. “Kevin’s team isn’t much of a… well, team. Not too much support talent there. But he’s the best player in the group. Definitely the most talented. Hardest working boy too.”
“Have you been to any of his games?”
“I’ve watched them… but not from th
e stands.” Bryan is quiet for a long moment. “I don’t think my… uh, wife would appreciate me being there. And I want the games to be about him… not me.”
“Does Kevin see you when you’re there?”
Bryan nods as he slightly smiles. I can see memories of his son flashing through his eyes. “He loves it when he sees me. He puts that extra effort in when he notices me standing on the other side of the fence watching him. He dives for balls he otherwise wouldn’t and runs faster than I’ve ever seen any kid run. He’s carried them to some wins, but there’s only so much one player can do.”
“Just like how I carry our team.”
Bryan’s memories fade back into his mind as he grins at me. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ana.”
“Trust me, I need all the sleep I can get these days.”
His smile slowly disappears. “Trouble sleeping?”
“You could say that.”
“Is it your sister?”
After Bryan’s son, Angela is the second thing that’s off-limits in our conversations. I’ve only ever mentioned her a few times before and each time was more of a vague reference than a statement. He’s never really pushed about her. He’s even gone as far as to not read the file on her, even though he has every right to as my partner. But I guess since I brought up Kevin, Bryan has the go-ahead to bring up my sister. “…sometimes it’s her. Those are usually the worst nights.”
“How often do you visit her grave?”
“Honestly, probably as often as you visit Jack’s.”
Hearing the name of his old partner, Bryan lets out a sigh. “That makes it too often.”
I pause before replying, “Is that a thing? To visit a loved one’s grave too much?”
“It can become an addiction. One that is almost impossible to break without losing your sanity.”
“If that’s the case, then I’m already addicted.”
“That makes two of us, Ana.” He lets out a soft sigh. “Two crazy people who can’t stop flirting with death.”