Read Rafael (The Santiago Brothers Book One) for Free Online Page B

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