isn’t great.”
Tage gasped, and Jackson chewed his lower lip. “Where do they usually do business?” he asked.
“Well, Dima’s a branch manager. There’s human trafficking everywhere, and we’ve got all the vices here in Sacramento, right? Casinos, wineries, drugs? But LA and Vegas are bigger, and it’s easier to lose the victims in the crowd. As best as we can figure, Dima’s a lieutenant. He supplies the buyers down in Sin City and LA. In fact….” She frowned.
“What?” Jackson asked.
“I heard about something….” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, we work with a federal task force. You name the alphabet and someone’s got a hand in it. It seems like I just heard some of the guys gossiping about something weird going down between LA and Vegas. There was a shipment that was intercepted or a rogue special ops something or other. God. I was listening as hard as I could too.”
Jackson grinned. “Yeah, Mira, that’s completely legit.”
She wrinkled her nose impishly. “Hey, when these heroes with all the Kevlar think of you as just the secretary, you gotta have your parabolic mic on at all times.”
“That’s my girl,” he said with admiration. “So if you hear something or remember something—man, it sure would be great to know if this group of kids has something to do with my boy here.”
Tage was staring at her hungrily, like she’d somehow produced hope from a magic bottle.
“You think so? You think you know where they are?”
Jackson was going to caution him not to get too excited, but Mira beat him to it. Her life when the two of them had hooked up hadn’t been easy. She’d been getting out of an abusive relationship that had dogged her since high school and had despaired of ever getting through college to be a paralegal. She knew about hoping for the best and having the hope just smacked the fuck out of you. He needn’t have worried.
“Honey, I can’t promise anything. It would be wonderful if we managed to get a hit on where they might be, but it’s only nine thirty in the morning. I’m betting Jackson here has six zillion different stops before he’s done today. Let’s hope we have something a little more concrete before you get your hopes up, okay?”
Tage nodded, looking so dispirited that Jackson shoulder bumped him. “It’s a good lead, though,” he said softly and then looked back at Mira. “Look—I was going to talk to Eleanor and Ethan, if they have time.”
She shook her head. “Eleanor’s in court all day, and Ethan’s taking depositions. I might get a chance to talk to them at lunch, but it’s going to be a drive-by conversation. Tell me—as specifically as possible—what you need.”
Jackson grimaced. “Okay. Dima Siderov lives in Tage’s building—”
She blinked at him. “You lie.”
“No, but let me finish. We think his boy set Tage up for the murder of one James ‘No Neck’ Cosgrove and then snatched Tage’s brother and sister for insurance that Tage wouldn’t talk until they could off him.”
Mira stared at Tage. “And you’re standing here breathing free air? Boy, you have a guardian angel, and you’d better give thanks to her every night.”
Tage regarded her through sober gray eyes. “I would rather she look after my brother and sister,” he said, sincerity in every syllable. “They are….” He swallowed. “Young. Sophie looks older, but she’s only twelve. Max is older, but he’s so gentle. I….” His voice trembled, and Mira nodded.
“Okay, baby. I hear you. So, Dima’s on the move, and you would like any help we can give you.” She chewed her lip. “Do you know why he ordered the hit on this No Neck person? I remember reading about the murder, but there was no motive, not even when—” She held her hand to her mouth. “You’re the ‘juvenile in for questioning.’ Baby, you’re not even eighteen?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Jackson! Why was he in jail? Look at him! What did they do to him?”
“The guard beat me,” Tage said simply. “But Jackson and Ellery turned him in to his superior. They are trying to find out who paid him.”
Jackson gave the boy a faint smile. “You’ve been paying attention.”
“Knowledge can keep you alive,” Tage said with no irony and no play in his voice whatsoever.
“True that.” Jackson looked at Mira. “Someone wanted him not to tell us what happened, and someone is paying people to keep track of his file. Did you hear about the gunman at the public defender’s office?”
“That was this?”
He nodded.