Lock and Carl Galante watched Ty consume a meal that could easily have fed an entire family. Occasionally, Galante threw a glance back over his shoulder at the parking lot.
Every time a new customer pulled up they would give the Honda a long look before walking in. A young couple who seemed like they’d just finished a night of partying took a tour around it, the young man almost admiringly pointing out the bullet holes in the bodywork to his female companion.
Galante, Lock figured, was almost certainly looking at replacing his car rather than having it repaired. Lock’s experience with vehicles that had come under hostile fire was that, much like people, they were never the same afterwards. In the meantime, though, Galante’s bullet-ridden whip would be a useful prop for at least one part of their investigation.
“So, what do we think?” said Lock.
Ty held up a fork speared with a piece of sausage and a corner of waffle. “Pretty good. I’d hit this place up again,” he said approvingly. “Breakfast definitely. Not sure it’s a lunch spot.”
“Good to know,” said Lock. “But I was talking about the reception you and Carl got back there in the ’hood.”
Ty smiled. “I know what you meant. I was just attempting to lighten the mood.”
“Consider it lightened. Now, what do you think?” said Lock.
“Regular neighborhood static, or someone who thought we were too close?” said Galante, reframing the question.
Carmen’s phone chimed. She picked it up. Lock turned to her to see if it was anything case-related. She waved him off. “Go on with what you’re talking about,” she said, getting up from the table, and walking towards the entrance to make a call.
Lock watched her go with a sudden jab of anxiety. He’d swept her into this without thinking. Now he regretted it. If their relationship was to stand a chance, especially if they were going to be living together, it was better they kept their work lives separate. Too late for that with this, but it was something he needed to be mindful of in future.
“Ty?” said Lock. “What’s your take?”
Ty shrugged. “Hard to tell. But if I had to make a call, I’d say we were getting close.”
Lock shifted his attention to Galante. “Carl?”
“Same,” said Galante. “They took a good long look at us before they made a move. Made sure we knew they were there. Waited to see if we’d leave.”
Ty nodded his agreement as he mopped up some maple syrup from the corner of his plate with a piece of waffle. “Exactly. You drive on the block and some cat’s going to object to you being there. That shit goes off from the jump usually. Car rolls up behind you, takes its time about it, that’s a decision being made.”
“So at least we know we’re fishing in the right pond,” said Lock.
Galante nodded. “I’d say those two kids are within a ten-block radius.”
It narrowed it down, but not nearly enough for Lock’s liking. A ten-block radius could encompass hundreds of houses. They needed to narrow it down further, and fast. Assuming that the kidnappers hadn’t already been spooked, and decided on a move, there was still too much ground to cover.
“So what do we think? Door to door? See if anything pops?” said Ty.
Lock shook his head. “Too risky.”
A door wouldn’t even need to open. Someone could be waiting for them and fire straight through without even opening it.
“I agree,” said Galante. “It’s too big an area. It’s not like people are going to invite you inside their home so you can check they don’t have a couple of Chinese kids tied up in the basement.”
Galante was right. To search the area effectively, they’d need warrants. They weren’t official law enforcement, so that wasn’t going to happen. And even if they’d been cops, they’d still require probable cause for a warrant. All they could do now was poke another stick into the hornets’ nest and see if anything broke. Maybe throw some of the cash that Li had given Lock into the mix for good measure.
“So what do we do?” asked Ty. “Keep riding the car angle?”
Before Lock could respond, Carmen walked back to their table, and scooted in next to Lock. “I got a steer on what was being discussed on that clip you gave me.”
Lock had almost forgotten about the footage Ty had shot of Li on the phone with his boss, Emily’s father, and the heated conversation they’d had in Mandarin. “Anything good?”
Carmen tapped her smartphone and passed it to Lock. An email from the translator gave a rough breakdown of the conversation that had taken place. Or, at least, Li’s side of it.
Lock read it over.
“She said that’s a rough translation into English. She can be a little more precise if she has more time to go over it, but I’d told her it was priority and that I didn’t need the exact wording of everything that was said.”
Lock nodded. He read the email again. It would have been useful to have both sides of the conversation, but there was enough from what Li said to give him a handle.
Ty and Galante were staring at him across the table.
“Well?”
“What does it say?”
Lock shrugged. “It seems like they knew something bad was coming but they didn’t think it was this.”
“What does that mean?” said Ty.
Lock looked at Carmen, then handed the phone to Ty.
“Go ahead,” she said.
Ty began to read the email.
The cell rang with an incoming call. He handed it back to Carmen.
A split second later Galante’s phone rang. He snatched it and got up from the table.
“Wait. What?” said Carmen. She shot Lock a thumbs-up.
From Galante’s surprised reaction, Lock sensed he was getting the same call.
Lock’s phone rang. It was Li. He answered as Ty stood up and headed towards Galante. “Can someone tell me what’s going on?” said Ty.
“This is Lock.”
“Mr. Lock, it’s Li Yeng. The LAPD just called me. Someone used Charlie’s cards to withdraw money from an ATM in East Los Angeles.”
The cross street was roughly a mile from where Ty and Galante had been looking. That didn’t mean much. For a start, poorer neighborhoods didn’t have the same number of banks or ATMs. And no self-respecting criminal was going to hit up a stolen card a few blocks from where they lived. The fact that they had done it at all was surprising.
A kidnap for ransom could net a six-figure sum, with the payment made in a manner that was hard to trace. Using a kidnap victim’s credit or bank card involved more risk. When it happened, it was usually done immediately after the abduction, not a day or more later when authorities were on the lookout.
“What else did the cops say?” said Lock.
“They have the person who used the cards on camera. That’s good, right?”
“For us, probably,” said Lock.
“Probably?” said Li, apparently surprised by Lock’s on-the-fence reaction.
“Yes, it’s good,” said Lock, quickly backtracking. “But let’s be happy when they’re back safe with their family.”
For Lock, in these types of cases, it was always important to manage a client’s expectations. Things could go wrong at any stage, and fast.
It was good in as much as they had someone they could look for. Dime to a dollar this was an individual who had already been arrested, no doubt more than once. With a little luck a cop working the area would recognize them.
The reckless nature of it was a worry. Ask any law-enforcement official or person who dealt with kidnap for ransom and they almost all preferred to deal with criminals who exhibited a certain level of professionalism. It was much easier to resolve a situation when those involved saw it as a business transaction.
Amateur criminals killed people. So did professionals—but only when they had no other option, or it made business sense. Not on a whim. Not because they were panicked. Not merely because they enjoyed the act of killing another human being.
“What now, Mr. Lock?” said Li.
“I’ll keep working on our end of the investigation, and you tell me the second the LAPD give you or the family any kind of an update.”
“You think we’ll get them back safe?”
Lock thought again about managing expectations. “We’re closer to that than we were. But can you do me a favor?”
“Of course. Name it.”
“Don’t raise the family’s hopes too much.”
“I understand.”
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“I’ve already had to allocate some of the cash you gave me. Ty and another investigator had a fender-bender and we’re not sure if the insurance company will cover it.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Lock. It was a token sum. Use it as you see fit. Of course we’ll need some kind of accounting, but no one will be looking too deeply at how you use the money.”
“Okay. Let me know as soon as the cops update you, and I’ll do the same if anything breaks at our end.”
Lock finished the call. He was hoping Galante, with his law-enforcement contacts, would be able to put a little more meat on the bones of what was going on. “Everyone hear the news?” he asked.
They all had.
“What do we think?”
“Damn amateurs,” said Ty. Coming from the area of Long Beach that he had, Ty looked down upon badly executed criminal acts more than others around the table.
“Carmen?” asked Lock.
“It worries me.”
“Me too,” said Galante.
“You don’t hit an ATM for a few thousand bucks if you’re waiting on a big payoff like this,” Carmen added.
Lock turned his attention to Galante. “Carl? What are your cop buddies saying?”
“That was someone I know from Robbery Homicide. They already have a name on the asshole who used the cards, and a couple of addresses for him that they’re going to hit as soon as they pull everything together.”
“We should back off that neighborhood then,” said Ty.
Galante nodded. “Want to know the best thing about it?”
“Go on,” said Ty.
“We were about a block away from where his mom lives when we got shot up.”
“No wonder you got a hot reception,” said Lock.
“I just hope we didn’t spook them,” said Ty.
“We should know in a few hours,” said Galante, getting up.
“I’m going into the office,” Carmen said to Galante. “You want a ride?”
“What about my car?”
“We’ll take care of it,” said Lock.
Lock settled the check as Carmen and Galante headed out to her car, leaving him with Ty. He could tell that his partner felt bad for the potential misstep. It was possible that his and Galante’s presence had spooked the kidnappers sufficiently that they had already moved Charlie and Emily.
Or worse.
“Come on,” said Lock, slapping Ty on the shoulder. “Let’s go see if we can find some auto shops who don’t ask questions about bullet-hole repairs.”
Ty seemed reluctant to get moving.
“What?” said Lock.
“I’d rather be knocking down some doors.”
“Me too,” said Lock. “But that’s best left to the cops.”
Ty rose slowly. He turned his head to look at Lock. “You think they’re still alive?”
“I have no idea. But I do know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re worth a hell of a lot more alive, and that has to count for something.”