Personal Demon (9 page)

“You’ve never met Lucas’s brothers, have you?” he said. “Hector, William, Carlos…?”

“No.”

“Let’s just say that anyone who knows them and Lucas doesn’t think Mr. Cortez’s idea is completely crazy.

Not that the others couldn’t run the Cabal—Hector and William, that is. But the
best
person to do it?” He shook his head. “If Benicio Cortez didn’t care about the Cabal, he’d pass it on to Hector and say, ‘good enough,’ and it’d run just fine. You know anything about Cortez Cabal history?”

“Not much. They were the first Cabal, and they’re still the most powerful—”

“Not ‘still.’ They’re the most powerful
again
.” He leaned back, stretching until his leg brushed mine. “Now this is all way before my time, but I’ve heard the stories. When Mr. Cortez was growing up, the Cortez Cabal was locked neck-and-neck with the Boyds for third place, meaning they sometimes slipped to fourth out of four. And it wasn’t because things had changed but because they
hadn’t
. For a couple hundred years, the Cortez Cabal kept chugging along, doing what it always had, not changing with the times. Benicio Cortez changed that. And that means he’s sure as hell not passing the Cabal over to Hector and saying, ‘good enough.’ It also means he’s not going to hand it over to Lucas just to…what, win over his rebellious son?” He laughed and shook his head. “You know Lucas. How would Mr. Cortez have a better chance of winning him over? Handing him the Cabal? Or promising never to bug him about it again?”

He was right. So in trash-talking Lucas, had I only added fuel to the fire? I told Troy what I’d said.

“You did the right thing. If you said any different, it would definitely put you on the ‘no-invite’ list when they’re Cabal-bashing. If they ask you for more on Lucas, you should tell them—” He stopped. “No. Your instincts are good. Stick with them.”

“Thanks. There
is
something you might be able to help me with. An incident with the gang that Mr. Cortez may have…forgotten.”

“Forgotten?” His lips twitched in a barely suppressed grin. “Or neglected to tell you?”

“Sorry. I’m not implying—”

“If you aren’t, then you should be. The chances of Mr. Cortez
forgetting
to add something are near zero.

Intentionally withholding information that he’d consider sensitive? I’d count on it. What seems to be missing?”

I told him what Jaz said about recent trouble between the gang and the Cabal.

“Dustups?” he repeated.

“Encounters, altercations—”

“I know what you mean, but I have no idea what
they
mean. Sure there are dustups. All the time. Always have been. They’ll pull a job that gets too much attention or gets too close to our operations, and we’ll flex our muscles, give their chain a tug, and remind them they
are
on a chain, operating in this city with the Cabal’s permission.”

“Has there been an increase in those sorts of encounters?”

“If there has been, I’d know about it. All security alerts come to me.”

Troy promised to investigate further and I trusted he would. I was also inclined to believe him when he said that a sudden increase in Cabal-gang problems wouldn’t be the kind of thing Benicio would keep from me. Yet, as I knew from experience, just because something doesn’t cross Benicio’s radar didn’t mean it wasn’t being done by a Cabal employee, using Cabal resources and the Cabal name. I’d have to work on Jaz some more.

TROY LEFT FIRST.
I presumed he was watching my exit, but knew better than to look for him as I hailed a cab. I’d just given the driver my address when my cell phone rang, the gang one Rodriguez had given me.

“Faith? It’s Jaz. I didn’t get you up, did I?”

I checked my watch. I couldn’t remember the last time I hadn’t been up by ten—awake, showered, dressed, done breakfast and moving on with my day. Being in the gang, though, meant late nights and, probably, late mornings. Like being back in college. Well, being back in college for the kind of kids who skipped morning classes and stayed out at the bars all night, which hadn’t been me.

“No, I’m awake.”

“Good, good. You took off last night before I got a chance to ask your plans for today. I figured, being new in town, maybe you’d like some company. We have to be at the Rider by three, but—”

“Three? I thought it was five—oh, you mean you and Sonny.”

“No…” A moment’s pause, then, “Shit. Guy hasn’t called you yet, has he? Better keep this quick, then, or I’ll get hell for tying up the line. Short version is, you’re in.”

“In?”

“On the job tonight. The one I mentioned. I talked to Guy last night, told him how well you did.”

“Great. Thank you.”

A laugh. “While I’d love to claim credit, I don’t have that kind of pull. Once he saw what you could do—

that mind-reading stuff—he decided we could use you on the job. He was just double-checking with me, making sure everything went okay. So, you’re in, but before that, I was wondering if you had lunch plans.”

I didn’t. We agreed to meet at the club.

HOPE: PLANS

A
t one, a cab dropped me off at Easy Rider. I was about to ring the side bell when a voice called from behind me.

“Hold up, Faith. I got it.”

Footsteps thundered down the sidewalk. I turned to see Rodriguez jogging toward me, waving his key.

Rodriguez was the youngest member, no more than twenty. An average-looking guy, but there was a sweetness about him that made me want to fix him up with someone’s little sister. Maybe it was the shy smile or the hair that flopped in his eyes or the big dark eyes that dipped away the moment they touched mine. When he’d given me my phone yesterday, he’d taken me through everything step-by-step, patient but never condescending, explaining everything in simple English—a far cry from most tech support guys I’d dealt with.

“Guy will give you a key soon enough,” he said as he unlocked the door. “Until then, if no one answers the bell, ring Guy’s office phone. The number’s on your speed dial. He’s usually in by noon.”

He held the door open, then darted past me to the security panel and punched in a code.

“Even when someone’s already here, this will be armed, and Guy expects you to rearm it after you come inside.”

“Got it.”

“Ask him for the code later. He should give you that, even if you don’t have a key.” He pressed the last button, then paused before shutting the panel. “That reminds me. You have some experience with alarm systems, right? Ex-boyfriend thief or something?”

I nodded.

“If you’ve got a second, would you mind taking a look at something? Jaz and Sonny ran into a system on a job last week that totally stumped them. It’s not anything I’ve ever seen and I can’t find schematics on the Web.

They did some sketches for me.”

“I’ll take a look. If it’s new and high-tech, I’ve probably seen it, but almost certainly can’t crack it.”

“No, that’s fine. Just looking for an ID.”

We’d gone three steps when his cell phone rang. He checked the number, hesitated, then motioned for me to wait.

“Did it come?” he asked as he answered. A pause, then he shifted his weight, one hand shoved into his pocket. “Okay, I’m ready. What does it say?” Another pause. Then a sharp laugh. “Haven’t opened it? Are you trying to kill me, Nina? Come on, come
on
.” A rueful look at me, then his eyes widened. “
¡Qué fuerte!
Seriously?

Okay, okay. I gotta go. We’ll talk tonight.”

He hung up, grinning. “That was my sister. My college acceptance letter was late, and I was sure that meant I hadn’t made it and…” His color rose. “And you have no idea what I’m talking about and I’m babbling like a moron. Sorry.”

“No, that’s great. You got in, I take it. Which college?”

The grin sparked again. “California Institute of Technology.”

“Caltech? Wow. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I have to make a few calls. Oh, about that security system, are you going to be around later?”

“As far as I know. We’ll look at it then.”

He pointed me toward the front rooms. He’d just scampered off when the side door opened again. Bianca. I waited to walk with her.

As we cut through the dimly lit back rooms, she asked whether I’d been comfortable doing a job with Jaz and Sonny. From her tone, I gathered
she
hadn’t been comfortable with it—a new recruit sent out with the next two newest members. I assured her everything had gone fine.

We found Sonny reading a novel in a near-dark booth.

“You strain your eyes, you won’t be much good to us tonight, Sonny-boy,” Bianca said, flicking on the lights for him. She turned to me. “If Sonny’s here, Jaz won’t be far.”

“He’s in the storeroom with Guy,” Sonny said.

Bianca’s lips pursed and she headed toward the back. I followed, leaving Sonny at his table.

Clearly Guy’s friendship with Jaz wasn’t something Bianca approved of. Did she think he was after her job? Anyone could see that Jaz’s ambitions stretched no further than securing a place in the gang with minimal responsibilities, and burrowing in for as long as he could.

She asked about our lunch plans. Who’d suggested it? Was I going with Jaz and Sonny, or just Jaz? I wondered whether Guy had a policy about crew members dating, and Bianca was hoping to get Jaz in trouble.

In the storeroom, Jaz was counting boxes, Guy marking them down. Jaz was retelling some adventure, and Guy was laughing. It all seemed very normal, but there was a note in Guy’s laugh, too rich and too loud, trying too hard to show his appreciation for the tale. And there was something in the way he was looking at Jaz, and the way he quickly glanced away when he saw us watching.

A laugh and a look didn’t prove anything, but I wondered whether there wasn’t a very different cause for Bianca’s jealousy. That might also explain why she’d been so eager to know whether Jaz was taking an interest in the new girl. When Jaz saw me, though, his grin said that if Guy was interested in Jaz, it was a one-sided attraction.

“Is it—?” Jaz checked his watch. “Shit. Sorry, Faith. I meant to meet you at the door.” He turned to Guy.

“Mind if I skip out on the rest, boss? Got a hot lunch date.”

Guy muttered something about being left with all the work, but waved us out good-naturedly. So maybe I was reading too much into a laugh and a look.

We were just stepping out the door when Tony barreled past, jokingly elbowing Jaz into the wall.

“Rod got his college letter,” he said to Guy and Bianca. “Max and I are springing for pizza.” He glanced back at us. “You guys in?”

Jaz hesitated, and I could tell he was torn. I reminded myself why I was here. I couldn’t turn down any opportunity to hang out with the gang, and get them talking about the Cabals.

“Uh, sure.” I looked at Jaz. “If that’s okay with you?”

“We’re in,” he said, then lowered his voice to me. “Rain check for tomorrow?”

I smiled. “Definitely.”

WE ATE IN
the bar, Max and Tony having dragged a small table over to a booth so we’d all fit. They’d brought the pizza, but Guy sprung for a twelve-pack of beer, taking it from the back and carefully noting it in his accounts. The beer was a local microbrew, Jaz said, and ribbed Guy about “springing for the good stuff for a change.”

As for Rodriguez’s news, Guy had known about his college hopes and seemed genuinely pleased for him, only joking that he’d better give him a special deal on technical consultation after he left.

“So when do we get to wager on how fast you’ll be back?” Tony said, peeling a pizza slice from the box.

“College was cool, but after one month sweating my ass off in a cubicle, I was so out of there. You don’t get pizza and beer parties in a suit job.”

“Once Rod’s gone, he’s gone for good,” Jaz said. “If school doesn’t keep him there, the California girls will.” He winked at Rodriguez, then took a slug of his beer, his dancing eyes lifting to mine. “Though personally, I’m partial to East Coast girls.” He leaned back. “But as for why anyone would give up this gig to go to college?

Totally beyond me.”

“I hear ya,” Tony said, lifting his bottle. “To the sweet life. No worries, Guy. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jaz and Sonny hoisted their bottles and chimed in their agreement.

“Great,” Guy muttered. “Come fall, Bee and I will be stuck with all the loafers.”

I turned to Max. “You’re leaving too?”

He shrugged. “Probably following Rod out to Cali. That’s the plan anyway. No college for me, though. I’ve got some other business out there.”

“Five foot two with eyes of blue,” Tony sang. “His girlfriend moved to L.A. last year.”

“Ex-girlfriend.”

“Yeah, the
ex
you still text ten times a day.”

Max colored under his tan. “We’re friends, okay? Sure, Jess is working in L.A.—”

“For the Nast Cabal,” Tony interjected, to hisses and boos from Jaz and Sonny.

“Only until she gets her MBA,” Max said.

“Like getting your education from the military. You gotta bet they’re not going to let her waltz away when she’s done.”

Max shrugged. “She knows that. She’ll pay her dues.”

“And pay and pay and pay,” Jaz said.

Tony nodded. “Face it, buddy, she’s in and she’s not getting out.”

Max’s eyes flashed, but Guy cut him off.

“Enough. Max knows what I think.” Guy cut a look his way. “If Jess can pull it off, all the power to her, but Cabals don’t give away free educations. As long as she knows that, and she’s careful…” He shrugged. “Maybe it’ll work out.”

He passed around the pizza box as Jaz and Tony grabbed a second beer, and I could tell the conversation was going to shift away from Cabals.

“So if you work for a Cabal, they’ll pay for college?” I asked.

“Uh-uh.” Guy wagged a finger at Max. “See what you started?”

“Hey,
I
didn’t start—”

“Yes,” Guy said, twisting to face me. “A Cabal will pay for your degree, in return for years of indentured servitude slaving in their cubicles. If you decide you don’t want to have Mommy and Daddy pay for your education, then we’ll talk about extending your stay. You’d be better off earning your tuition here than getting yourself indebted to a Cabal. Working for me is a whole lot safer.”