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find him. With your help we can bring him to justice.”
    Torres made a sound halfway between a laugh and a grunt.
    “Justice, huh? Is that what you are offering?” His tone was mocking.
    Beth stood straighter, bringing herself to her full height. It was a futile effort because Torres still towered over her but the small gesture made her feel less small, less vulnerable. “Yes. Together we can find the man that tried to kill you. We can bring him to justice.”
    Half of Torres’ mouth curved into a smile. “No thanks.”
    Beth’s eyes narrowed. She expected him to at least hear her out before he rejected her. He was supposed to be upset when she mentioned the shooting, get choked up and then she would use that emotion against him to get him onside. But Torres’ response was far from emotional. He rejected her with the same indifference given to a salesman peddling encyclopaedias door to door. “No thanks?” she asked. “Don’t you want to hear me out?”
    Torres gave his dark head a single shake.
    Beth took a deep breath. She was losing him. With her foot she traced a line in the dusty ground. She didn’t lose. Nothing came easy to her, but she never lost, what she lacked in finesse she made up for in tenacity. “Giving up. I expected more from a soldier.” She held her breath and waited for his response. She expected anger.
    But Torres did not respond. Half of her was relieved; physically she was outmatched. He could snap her like a twig, but he did not appear angry. He didn’t even appear interested.
    Beth traced the groove her toe had created in the dirt, tracing it over and over. Time to change tactics. “As you know, the man who shot you is a member of Los Treintas. My job is to find their leader – El Escorpion.”
    “Good luck with that.”
    At least he looked at her, if only for a second. It was a start. “The drug trade is the tip of the iceberg for Los Treintas. They are heavily into arms dealing. They pose a grave danger to national security. As a Marine—”
    Torres’ head snapped round. His gaze bore down on her. “As a Marine what?” There was no mistaking the edge to his voice. She had a hit a nerve. She took another breath to try to steady her already frayed nerves. She felt uncomfortable with him, off balance and back-footed. It didn’t make sense; Beth stared down criminals for a living. But this was different, he wasn’t a criminal…yet…but what she was proposing would take him there. Beth licked her dry lips, suddenly forgetting where she was going with this argument.
    “Is this the part where you appeal to my patriotism? Maybe bring up the fact that as a son of immigrants I know better than most the importance of preserving the American dream. Trust me darling, I’ve done my bit, got the scars to prove it.”
    He also had a Purple Heart, but he didn’t mention that. Beth’s shoulders dropped. She wasn’t getting through to him. Maybe Patterson was right; this was a lost cause. Maybe her time would be better off sweet-talking jailbirds. She sighed. The only thing she had left was honesty. “Yeah it was, but clearly it’s not going to work. So tell me, Torres, what would work? What do I need to say to you to get you onside?”
    “You’re wasting your breath, Ms. Thomson. I’m not buying what you’re selling.”
    Beth shook her head. “Your best friend was murdered in front of you. I thought you would be more vested in getting justice for him.”
    His jaw tightened, tan skin stretched over taut muscles.
    The movement was subtle but she saw it. It was something; there was the emotion she was looking for. She remembered what Frazer had told her – use his emotion against him. Beth latched onto it. Moses Archila was the key. “I saw you with his sister this morning at the funeral. I get that you don’t care about getting justice for yourself, but Archila was your best friend. He saved you, don’t you owe it to him to bring his murderer to justice?”
    Torres stared at