different. And Eva didn’t have to reach too deep to find the fear, to make a compelling case for why she might need details to reassure her.
In the distance, two women walked toward them on the path, deep in conversation, and Eva continued. “Everywhere I go, I wonder if I’m being followed. The man in line behind me, the woman on her phone…” Eva gestured toward the two women, closer now. “Even them. How do I know they don’t work for Castro?”
Dex took her arm and pulled her closer, hissing, “Calm down, Eva. Fuck.”
They stepped to the side and let the women pass, and when they were out of earshot again, Eva said, “So tell me. What does it mean, ‘Fish took care of it’? How? Because there’s a difference between a duty officer losing some paperwork and a sergeant or lieutenant calling off a federal investigation.”
Information about how Fish’s people operated inside the department wasn’t Eva’s end goal. It would be useful, but Eva was using it to warm Dex up. To get him to start talking. Like a crack in a wall, it would grow wider with time and pressure.
Dex looked away from her, his voice low, and Eva stepped closer to him. “The woman you met in the park was freelance,” he said. “Your instincts weren’t wrong. She was an addict, trying to curry favor in exchange for a lighter sentence. Fish’s people inside the department have successfully neutralized her as a source. Because you didn’t sell her anything, and no money exchanged hands, they have nothing to go on. They’re gone.”
They’d resumed their slow stroll, shoulder to shoulder, the wind now at their backs, the green hills of Berkeley rising in the distance. Eva picked out the Campanile, the stadium, and the white shape of the Claremont Hotel, and let Dex think she was absorbing what he told her. “So what happened to her?”
“No clue,” Dex said. “Jail or rehab, probably.”
Eva turned to face him, placing a hand on his forearm. “Look, you know me. I’m not prone to hysteria. But there’s no way I’m handing over drugs out in the open like this. Not until things settle down.”
Dex’s eyes narrowed. “You have an obligation. You don’t get to set the terms.”
“I think I do,” Eva said. “I’m the one with the skills.”
Dex peered down at her, anger radiating off him. “This isn’t a fucking game. Brittany might be dealt with, but it isn’t over. Now the cleanup starts, the deconstruction of what happened. Who else was involved, what they knew, and when. You being difficult right now puts me at risk too.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes, the wind whipping and grabbing the edges of her coat, before Eva asked her next question. “What happened to the chemist Fish had before me?” Dex looked at her, surprised. “You told me he was leaving the business. But that wasn’t entirely true, was it?”
“He refused to do what he was told,” Dex finally said. “I don’t want the same to happen to you.”
Again Eva let the panic she felt bubble to the surface, where Dex could see it, and pressed her lips together, as if she were battling to stay calm. “That body you showed me at the motel? Was that him?”
Dex shook his head. “No, that was someone else. The chemist was gone before you even came on board.” He lowered his voice, and Eva stepped closer to catch what he’d say next. “You’ve got to pull it together. For me as well as yourself. This is how mistakes are made.”
Eva nodded, as if she were making her peace with how things were going to be. She had enough for now. They’d reached the outer edge of the park, with nothing but black asphalt littered with trash between them and her car, and she reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Football tickets for this Saturday,” she explained. “We’re taking things in-house for now.”
In-house was a term she and Dex used when they felt it was too risky for Eva to pass him his weekly supply in a park or restaurant. Many years ago, Eva had begun buying season tickets to football and basketball, though she rarely used them. But the purchase also included access to elite club-level venues that gave its members a sense of entitlement and security. Access to places an undercover cop couldn’t easily follow them.
At this point, she couldn’t stop making drugs for Fish. But if Castro was