cops arrested him. Now he’s dead—killed by his own people.” They didn’t know that for a fact, but it was a logical guess.
“That’s what I care about,” Nate continued when Rosa didn’t say anything. “I want the killer. You help me there and I’ll pretend I was never here.”
“And if I don’t help you?”
He didn’t say anything. This wasn’t someone who would care about threats. According to Aggie’s research, the Merideses had owned this house for some time under a corporate name. The only thing that tied them to it were utility bills. They might have other property in other names. They hadn’t been killed by their supplier for losing the sixteen kilos, which told Nate they were high up themselves, had the resources to weather the storm, or had the ability to make it up.
“Hypothetically, if someone stole from me, I wouldn’t give a shit about them if they were arrested by the cops. But I’m not going to put a target on my back so you all can come in here and nail me and my boys. I’m not an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. You’ve been in this business too long to be stupid.”
“Why thank you,” she said, almost humored.
“So I’m going to tell you something I shouldn’t, but I really need the name of the people with Mitts that day two weeks ago.” Nate made sure Rosa was looking him in the eye, then said, “I’m suspended. I shouldn’t even be here. Anything you tell me can’t be used against you because technically, I don’t have a badge today. I want those people because Mitts’ isn’t the only life they destroyed.” He didn’t know if they killed anyone else, but if he didn’t figure out what the hell was going on with the planted drugs, if he couldn’t clear his name and find Elise Hunt and save Brad, then yes, more people would die. And Rosa Merides was not party to that. She was a high-level drug supplier. Bad news, and Nate hoped the DEA could eventually make a case against her. But it wasn’t his job, and he wasn’t arresting anyone today.
“Oh, you’re being a bad boy, aren’t you, Agent Dunning?” she said with a smile.
Aggie was tense next to him. The dogs had inched closer to her and Aggie had inched closer to Nate.
“Names, and we’re gone.”
“Mitts is a fucking asshole, he used to work for me, when the Saints got whacked and arrested a couple years back. There were only a few of them around, and Mitts was desperate. And what does he do? Bites the hand that feeds him, that’s what. He’s dead? Good. Deserves worse, the fucking traitor.”
Nate didn’t say anything.
“Not saying what’s what, but if Mitts came over, he doesn’t have a lot of friends. His best friend is Pablo Barrios. Not the sharpest tack in the box, but surprisingly, been off the grid for two weeks,” she emphasized. “No fucking way could Mitts and Pablo have done anything like what you said they might have done, just telling you that straight up. Not on their own.”
“Who do they run with?”
She stared at them, weighing what she should say. Whether she wanted to screw them. Aggie shifted as if she were going to speak, and Nate took a half step in front of her.
Rosa would tell him what she knew, but one misstep and she’d laugh in their faces.
Aggie picked up on his subtle hint and froze.
After a tense ten seconds Rosa said, “Word has it that Pablo is being led around by his dick. Couple months ago, he hooked up with this looker named Clara. What a looker like Clara wants with a buffoon like Pablo, what the shit do I know? And if Pablo and Mitts were to do something stupid like steal from me, they might have brought the looker with them. And she ain’t no dumb bitch, I’ll tell you that right now, because stupid fucks can’t steal from me.”
“I need more.”
“Like her full name and address? Fuck. Don’t have that shit. But let’s just say that if she had a gun on my boys, and if I saw her, I might have seen a colorful skull and snake tat on her wrist.”
Aggie perked up.
“And that’s all the fuck I know,” the woman said. She whistled and the dogs ran to her; Aggie jumped and unconsciously grabbed Nate’s forearm. Rosa laughed. “Don’t like my pups? They won’t hurt you … unless I tell them to. You have thirty