wonder Belmont wants Mercy dead. That’s a lot to lose.”
“Yeah,” Tom said grimly, once again thinking of Liza in the monster’s sights. “This morning Molina asked if Belmont might be dead. I’ve wished it a thousand times in the month since he disappeared, but I didn’t think we’d be that lucky.”
Croft hesitated. “It was Gideon’s girlfriend who shot Belmont, wasn’t it?”
Tom nodded. “One of the shots, yes. Daisy Dawson is a sharpshooter. She climbed a tree to get the shot.” He glanced at his trainer. “Why?”
“Because he probably has a grudge against her, too,” Croft said. “Did you tell Gideon?”
“Nope.” He feigned innocence. “I told Molina that I wouldn’t feed them information.”
Croft snorted. “You didn’t have to tell Gideon. Rafe Sokolov has already filled him in.”
Tom grinned. “But I didn’t tell Gideon.”
She was quiet for a few beats. “I think I like you, Hunter.”
“I’m glad,” he said sincerely. “I’d hate to be stuck with someone who doesn’t. Tell me about the tattoo on Belmont’s back. Which gang is it?”
“It’s a gang out of San Fran called Zhonghua Yanjingshe, which translates to ‘Chinese Cobra.’ It was originally managed by one of the crime syndicates in mainland China, but a few years ago the gang was hit hard by the Bureau. The syndicate had purchased about a hundred houses in Northern California and turned them into grow houses. If you want more info, ask Rodriguez. He was part of the task force that took them out. They seized over four hundred pounds of pot, plus cash and weapons. Grow houses are still a problem around here, but it’s not as organized as it was.”
“I read about that when I knew I was coming to Sacramento,” Tom said, slowing to stop at a red light. “Folks think that illegal pot isn’t a thing in California anymore because it’s legal to buy, but the product seized by the task force was going to states where it’s still illegal.”
“Exactly. Homeowners who rent their houses continue to worry about grow houses. Renters look legit, some even show up with a prop family, then they trash the house, fill it with dirt, and grow weed until they’re caught. By then, they’re usually in the wind, and the homeowner is left with a ruined house.”
“I’m glad I know my renter,” Tom said lightly, turning left when the light changed.
Croft chuckled. “I guess so. Liza doesn’t seem the type to grow illegal weed.”
“I’d be shocked if she’s ever even tried it.”
Croft shot him an incredulous look. “Hunter. She was asking Irina for cannabis tea when we walked into the Sokolovs’ kitchen today.”
Oh. “That’s true, but I’m sure that was a onetime thing. Not that there would be anything wrong with her drinking Irina’s tea, especially now that she’s in between her job and school.”
“Or maybe you don’t know her as well as you think,” Croft suggested softly.
Tom’s head swiveled to stare at her. “What?”
“How long have you known her?”
He refocused on the road. “Seven years.”
“But most of that time she was in the military, wasn’t she?”
Tom shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “We e-mailed and Skyped at least once a week, whenever she could get screen time.” Until I met Tory. Then he’d forgotten about their calls, too wrapped up in Tory to pay attention to anyone else. And after Tory had died, he’d been too wrapped up in his grief. He’d left Liza with no one to talk to. God, I’m an asshole.
Maybe that’s why she’s upset with me. She certainly has a right to be.
Croft sighed. “All I’m saying is that you seem convinced that you know her. Maybe she’s changed.” She shifted in her seat, seeming as uncomfortable with this tangent as Tom was. “Anyway, the gang was hurt in the raids, but not destroyed. The management structure has changed, though.”
Tom was simultaneously grateful to Croft for getting them back on track and tempted to ask her what she saw in Liza that had driven her comments. Something was wrong with his friend, but he was either too close or too thick to see what everyone else did.
“Changed how?” he asked, pushing worries about Liza aside for the moment. “Like an internal shake-up, or someone came in from the outside?”
“Both. The gang has become more local, with fewer international ties. The letters tattooed on DJ’s back are part of the original name. Now they call themselves the Chicos.”
“Meaning ‘boys’? They jumped languages?”
“No. It’s short for Chinese Cobras. I guess there were too many gangs called the Cobras, so they