****
Genie hugged her jacket to her frame, the cool wind of the emerging spring causing her to shiver. She kept her hood low, passing all late-night stragglers without a glance. A few more blocks and she would be at the meeting place — a familiar alleyway in the heart of the roughest part of the city. She hated coming to this part of town; most of the domestic violence calls were from this area, the worst grade schools in the county weren’t far from where she was, and the liquor stores outnumbered the convenience stores two to one. But officers of the law serviced the whole community, and not just the affluent.
Genie stifled a yawn. Perhaps she should have followed her own advice. Right now, Rafael Santiago would be at his mother’s house, snoozing. Well, she couldn’t sleep — wouldn’t sleep — until she solved this case. She had her career to think of.
Rafael Santiago.
Genie shook her head in disbelief. He hadn’t left her thoughts since she abandoned him in a dark conference room. She stifled a chuckle, wondering what he thought of her now. He had never noticed her in school, but they were paired on this case, so he’d have no choice but to acknowledge her now. Genie couldn’t help the feeling of pleasure that shot through her at the thought of Rafael Santiago being aware of her.
Stop it, Genie.
And just like that, the elation deflated.
He may look even better than he did some odd years ago, may even be more intelligent than he obviously let on in school, but a cheetah doesn’t change its spots. Can’t change its spots. She considered what he'd said earlier about not being proud of his former actions. It had surprised her that he would confess at all to the infractions he made as a minor. Rafa alluded he’d done more than what she knew of when they attended school together. What had those actions been? How much more of a train wreck had he become? Rafa left Virginia shortly after graduation and she hadn’t seen or heard of him since, except in the prayers of a fervent mother in church.
Maria Santiago.
She hadn’t seen his mother in quite a while. Her work as a detective, and the disagreement she had with God over Jeff, left little room in her life for church. She still attended, but only if she didn’t have a pressing investigation.
And every investigation was a priority.
Still, she knew she should return with more regularity. Her best friend Audrey Hughes had encouraged her to attend a weekly Bible study. Perhaps she could sit in for a class or two. She had questions that needed answering and what better way to get those answers than from the source.
The source.
She had to meet hers tonight. The Snakes were a gang of drug addicts and money launderers, or so Rafa had mentioned. She’d meet with the gang unit after the autopsy, but right now she’d talk to her eyes and ears on the street. She hadn’t heard of any new packs forming in the city and now this group had killed four people? Her precinct needed to be ahead of the game, not behind it.
A whiff of smoke and Genie knew her source was near. She recognized his preferred brand of cigarettes. The heavy, dank odor hung in the air and Genie swallowed a groan; she would have to wash her clothes twice to get the smell out. The stronger the scent became, the more she wrinkled her nose.
She rounded the corner of a small strip mall and caught sight of her source, Ricky, against the brick wall of a coin-operated laundry. The light from his cigarette appeared and disappeared like the soft glow of a lightning bug. His rapid drag of the butt troubled Genie. He was nervous.
He straightened and closed the distance between them. “Why you drag me out here at three a.m.?” he seethed.
Genie held her breath against Ricky’s rank breath, choking the cough in her chest, but she didn’t retreat.
Ricky continued his rant. “Don’t you gotta crime scene to be at?”
“So you know about the stabbings?” He took a step back and mumbled something under his breath. Genie leaned forward. “What’s that? I didn’t hear you.”
“I don’t know nothin’!”
Genie snatched her source’s collar, yanking him towards her. “Lower your voice,” Genie warned. She glanced around to see whether his exclamation had drawn attention. Satisfied it hadn’t, she released him, but stayed close. “Listen, there’s a killer running around. What do you know?”
He licked his lips, the shine of saliva gleaming in the moonlight. He flicked his cigarette farther into the dark of the small alley. Genie watched the light of the butt fade. She walked over to the discarded litter, raised one pointy-toed heel, and crushed the cancer stick into the cement. She strode back to where her source slouched. “Are you finished? Now, tell me what you know, Ricky.”
He jammed his hands in his coat pockets. “Alright, alright. Look, I heard about dem murders, but I don’t know who’s doin' it.”
“Do you know why?”
He shook his head. “Don’t know that neither.”
“Then what do you know?”
“Peoples are scared, that’s what I know. That ol’ man that worked at that Mexican restaurant? Why would anybody wanna kill him?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Ricky shuffled his feet. “I don’t know, man… I don’t know.” He sniffed, shaking his head.
Genie made it a practice not to disclose sensitive investigative information to protect the credibility of the case. But with four bodies in two weeks and no suspects, she had to rethink the rules. If the community’s fears were manifesting themselves in the nervous tics of her usually static source, then she was making the right choice. “Okay, listen carefully.”
Ricky angled in.
“The stab wounds are in the shape of a snake. It’s kind of a gang tag.”
“A snake?”
Genie swallowed another yawn. Not even being out here this late at night in a dangerous part of town could muster enough adrenaline to keep sleep at bay. And if she had to repeat herself, they would be out here all night — and her bed was calling. “That’s what I said.”
“I ain’t heard of nothin’ like that.”
“This is new. Don’t go blabbing it around or you’ll alert the killer, and I want to catch whoever’s doing this.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t wanna get stabbed.”
“Good. Get with your regulars and see if they’ve heard anything. And be discreet.”
Ricky nodded and then disappeared into the night. Genie drew in a deep breath before beginning the trek back to her car. She decided on an alternate route to her vehicle to detect any possible surveillance.
As she trudged on, the exhaustion making her muscles numb and her eyelids heavy, her thoughts strayed to Rafa. With ten years on the case, he had to be invested. She was sure his career was riding on the outcome and having someone new, like her, would threaten any promotional opportunities. He all but accused her of not caring about the victims — a deflection to hide his own greedy ambitions for glory and advancement — two main goals of every detective. But she was no fool. He might have been a source in the Snakes organization but this was her town. She had her own sources. He’d have little pull here, unless he planned to join up with his old crowd from high school, and most of them were either gone, dead, or in jail.
Genie quickened her steps, her car in view. She smiled. Rafael Santiago wasn’t the only one who could get information. She’d discover who the killers were before he had a chance to say “promotion.” Then his perfect hair and delectable dimples would be back on a plane to California. Her life would return to normal.
Just the way she liked it.
Chapter Four