ROBINSON WAS BEHIND THE WHEEL AS THEY crept along the block. Cristina pointed Flip out. “There he is,” she said. “Hurry up.”
They pulled up fast by the corner where Flip waited. Cristina twisted around in the seat to get the back door open and Flip got in. Robinson immediately put the accelerator down and they were off, turning north away from the Segundo Barrio and toward the airport and Fort Bliss.
“Flip?” Cristina asked.
“Yes. Felipe.”
“I’m Detective Salas. This is Detective Robinson.”
Flip looked young, though Cristina had pulled his records and knew he was twenty-six. He had strong features and his eyes were quick. When he looked at her, she could see he was a thinker. She had dealt with dull-eyed gang-bangers with nothing behind them. He was not that way.
“How long until anyone notices you’re gone?”
“I just have to be back to my house by dinnertime. A half hour? I have to walk back.”
“Okay, we’ll be quick.”
“Where are we going?”
“Out of the neighborhood,” Robinson replied. “We use this car when we work and someone might recognize it. Or us. Better if we take a little drive.”
Flip nodded, but said nothing. Cristina thought he had learned that on the inside.
“I talked with Reverend Harcrow,” Cristina said. “He told us what you did at Coffield. He vouched for you, but I still have to ask: why call us?”
“I can help you out.”
“You were active with the Aztecas in prison?”
“Yeah. I met a dude named Javier. Javier Davila. He saw I was a stand-up guy, gave me an invite into the group.”
“It couldn’t have been that easy.”
Flip cast his eyes down for a moment, looking at his hands. “I had to stab a dude. White boy giving one of the other Aztecas some trouble. I did it and they blooded me in.”
“How’d you skate on the stabbing charge?”
“Nobody ratted me out. Must have been twenty people saw it, but nobody said nothing.” He looked up again and whatever dark shadow had been there was gone. His eyes were clear.
“Harcrow said you were close to the boss at Coffield.”
“Yeah. Enrique Garcia. He’s the one in Coffield. One of the Originals. He’s been inside thirty years or something. Aztecas come and go, but he stays. Everybody listens to him. He got me set up out here.”
“Set up with the Aztecas in El Paso?”
“Yeah, that’s right. He talked me up to one of the capos out here. His name is José Martinez. Don’t you want to write this down?”
Cristina glanced at Robinson. She could tell he was listening. “We know José.”
“Are you watching him?”
“Maybe. That’s not important right now. Tell me: Garcia sponsored you, said you were okay. José took you in?”
“I think so.”
“What do you mean, you think so?”
“I haven’t done nothing for him yet. We just met up, did a club, that kind of thing. He hasn’t set me up with a job or anything.”
“But you’re coming to us now?” Robinson put in.
“I want to make sure I’m covered.”
“Why take the risk?” Cristina asked. “Nobody knew you were dealing information at Coffield. You could just go along and get along.”
Flip took a deep breath. “Look, I got in with the Aztecas at Coffield because they could protect me, all right? I know you saw my rap sheet; I’m not some marijuana cowboy. I’m not going back to prison for nobody.”
“Makes sense,” Robinson said. “You’re on the inside, so why not use that?”
“Right, man.”
Cristina looked out the window and couldn’t tell where they were. Robinson was making a lot of turns, speeding up and slowing down, checking the mirrors to see if anyone was following them. He was doing everything right. “You understand being a CI doesn’t mean you get a free pass,” Cristina said.
“I know that.”
“If either one of us feels like you’re playing games, we’ll cut you loose.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Cristina said.
“Swing back around?” Robinson asked.
“Yeah. We’ll drop him off right where we found him.”
“I need to get your numbers so I can contact you anytime,” Flip said.
Cristina gave him her number and Robinson recited his. Flip did not enter them into his phone, but just nodded when they were done. There would be no record in his phonebook to compromise him and that was smart.
Robinson drove them back to the spot. Even as he slowed down, Flip was unbuckling himself and prepared to get out fast.
“We’ll be in touch,” Cristina told him.
“Me, too.”
They rolled to a stop. Flip bailed out and started walking in the opposite direction as if nothing unusual was going on. Cristina watched him as they pulled away. He didn’t look back, even when they reached the corner and turned out of sight.
“What do you think?” Cristina asked Robinson.
“I’m willing to try him out. The worst thing that happens is he doesn’t give us any good tips, screws up on the outside and goes back to prison. Then he can start snitching on his boys inside again.”
“He’s got balls,” Cristina said.
“Definitely. But if he can put us next to José, then I think we’ve got something. No more sitting on the street taking pictures.”
“You think he’s going to get that close? He’s just off the bus.”
“If we push him, maybe he can.”
Cristina looked back, but there was nothing but city street to see. “I guess we’ll see how it goes. I’ll write up the paperwork.”