Page 106 of Facing the Enemy
When neither man responded, I took the lead. “With the murder charges filed against you, there is no way I can recommend life.”
Bui stiffened. “Either way, we’re dead men.”
I nodded. “I get it, guys. You give us a name, and you’re dead. You head to prison and wait for the injection, you’re dead. Add to that, you failed tonight. I bet your attorney doesn’t show because Florakis won’t foot the bill.”
Both men shifted in their seats.
“Life sure sounds better than a needle.” I studied them. “In my opinion, Florakis took advantage of two young guys who only wanted a few extra dollars in their pockets.”
Duong and Bui exchanged glances. Bui took a deep breath. “We don’t know who pays us. We get a phone call with instructions. We do the job and then another call tells us where to pick up the money.”
“Neither of you had a phone. Where are they?”
“Crushed,” Bui said. “The pieces are in different places.”
“Your no-name boss provides a phone for each time he needs you to run an errand?”
“Yes,” Bui said.
I pressed my lips together and stared at them. “Bui, you’re twenty-one, and, Duong, you’re twenty-four. Is protecting this guy worth it?”
Duong swore. “We don’t have a name, or we’d tell you.”
“All right,” I said. “Any of the other guys I saw you with a part of this deal?”
“No. We are the only two.”
These two guys were scared and in over their heads.
I viewed the interview video for the fourth time in my office. Duong and Bui played the tough-guy role, but their fear of spilling their guts or facing a judge and jury was real. They were dead men no matter what the future held. Lam Giang, their attorney, never showed. Upon Duong and Bui’s request, I asked for a court-appointed attorney. If the two weren’t involved in multiple murders, I’d feel sorry for them. In my mind, a plea bargain for life in solitary confinement kept them alive. I’d wait until Monday to arrange another interview. Let them sweat the weekend to see if their stories changed.
Risa stayed fixed in my mind. We were wading knee-deep in the mud of unsolved murders and chasing down a fraudulent adoption agency, and I wanted to take her to dinner. A date. Made little sense even to me.
Should I have waited? Spending time with Risa without the case seemed selfish. But I didn’t care.
59
RISA
At 4a.m., SAC Dunkin told Gage and me to go home and not show up until Monday morning, the week before Christmas. While these orders sounded good in theory, Gage and I planned to attend Luke’s memorial and work the case over the weekend. I drove home, craving sleep and expecting to be pulled over for driving like a drunk.
I woke at 8:30 and grabbed my phone to text Gage.
You’re picking me up at 9:30 for the memorial?
Yes.
I hurried to the shower and dressed on time. Standing room only filled the church—many of them agents like at Trenton’s service. Luke’s brutal death had hit everyone hard. Senseless. Mrs. Reardon endured the memorial in tears with her sister right beside her.
In the receiving line, I took the widow’s hand, remembering the two times Darlene had comforted me. “I’m here for you. Call me anytime. You can shout or rant at the unfairness, or we don’t need to talk at all. Is anyone staying with you during the holidays?”
“My sister will be with me until January 1.”
“I’ll check on you January 2.”
She nodded and bit into her lower lip.
Afterward in Gage’s car back to my apartment, I questioned himabout the evening’s plans. We could go to dinner when we weren’t exhausted.
