“Who did it, Renaldes?Quien?”

“No conozco.I don’t know-”

Again the gun was shoved down Pepe’s throat. Decker counted to ten. “Let’s try it again.Quien tiene un carro-a bronze Nova?”

Renaldes’s eyes rolled back. My heart was beating a mile a minute, adrenaline pumping through my system. Fuego was damn near hysterical. “He’s losing consciousness!” I called out over the barking. “Ease up!”

My father regarded my face, his eyes as feral as any zoo animal I’ve ever seen. I think he forgot about me.

“Ease up!” I repeated louder.

Decker lessened his grip and took the gun out of Pepe’s mouth.

“Sit him up,” I told my father. “I’ll get a glass of water.” I patted Pepe’s red and sweaty face. “I can’t control him for too much longer. Don’t piss him off.”

I went into the kitchenette, banging on the closet door as I walked past it. My chest hurt and I could barely catch my breath. The sink was filthy, filled with crusted dishes from the Jurassic age. Little black ants were crawling on the countertop. I opened a cupboard and searched for a clean glass. I found a couple of blue plastic mugs and filled one with cloudy tap water. I debated taking a drink myself but nixed the opportunity to hydrate myself, fearing unseen microbes. I brought it back to Pepe, again banging on the closet door as I passed it.

I think Fuego started to get the hint. His resumption of barking was slow on the uptake.

Pepe was sitting on the couch next to my father, his bald head down, hands clasped and shaking. My father was standing over him, the gun still in his right hand. I gave the small man the water. He drank greedily and actually thanked me.

“You okay?” I asked Pepe.

Renaldes eyed Decker. “Heescrazy!”

“Excitable,” I corrected.

Decker growled at me. “You want to ask him about the Nova, hotshot?”

“Take it easy,” I responded testily.

“My finger’s getting itchy.”

I rolled my eyes at Pepe. His eyes said thank you. Somehow Decker and I had fallen into “Good cop/bad cop,” except it wasn’t completely playacting. I sat next to Pepe.

“Sunset and Marchant… a little after twelve o’clock last night. Bronze Nova, tinted windows, primer on the driver’s door, dented hood, stolen plates.” I gave him the numbers. “They shot out a ’92 black Toyota Corolla. There was a cop inside the car. Big trouble, Pepe. You don’t want anything to do with it.”

“I don’t know nothin’.”

Decker shoved him against the back of the couch, water splashing all over his bare chest. Renaldes’s face went white with fear.

“Will you stop?” I scolded. I got up to get a towel, banging the closet door as I went. I found several napkins purloined from Tasty Taco and gave them to Pepe to wipe off the droplets.

Again I sat next to him. I said, “Renaldes, we have a credibility problem.”

He gave me a blank look.

I said, “I don’t believe you.No creoyou.”

Decker smiled.

I said, “Look you are in very serious trouble.Mucho problemos, usted tiene. Comprendes?” I glanced at my father. “Could you translate this?”

“No need. He understands perfectly.”

“You’re a big help.” I turned to Pepe and pointed to Decker. “He’s crazy.” I pointed to myself. “I’m not. Work with me, Pepe.”

“I was no drivin’ last night. I here.”

“Who can alibi you other than Fuego?”

A blank stare.

My eyes went to my father’s face. “Please?”

Dad asked the question in Spanish.

Renaldes shrugged, shook his head. “I here,” he repeated.

“Alone?” I asked. “Solo?”

“Sí, solo.”

“Bullshit!” my father spat out. He placed his gun on the top of Renaldes’s head.

Gently, I pushed it away and touched my forehead with an index finger. I studied Pepe’s face. His complexion had gone from fire to ice; it was now holding a sickly blue pallor. I said, “Renaldes, I believe you. But he doesn’t and that’s a problem.”

Pepe’s eyes darted back and forth. “I no there. I don’ know!”

Again my father showed him the gun. I chided him with a wag of the finger. To Pepe, I said, “Look, I got an idea. Tell me who owns the car and maybe I can get this guy”-a thumb in Dad’s direction-“maybe I can get him off your back.”

His eyes went from my face to Decker’s. I’m not sure he understood everything, but he sure understood the tone. Dad translated what I had told him. Renaldes turned his attention to me.

“Wha’ car?”

“A Chevrolet Nova. Bronze. Primer on the driver’s side. Tinted windows. Dented. Old.”

Renaldes said, “I don’ know decarro.I don’ know who drive… I no there.Pero si el carro es caliente… if eet’s hot, I know de peoples dat… de peoples dat chop.”

My father and I exchanged glances.

Pepe sensed a reprieve. “I give you denumeros… de address.”

Dad said, “No, you’re going toshowus the address.”

Renaldes looked at me. I regarded my father. “We’re driving a two-seater.”

“So give him a thrill. Sit on his lap.”

37

Pepe told Deckerthat he kept his clothes in a box under his bed. I pulled it out and the Loo selected a couple of items, keeping the gun on Renaldes as he got dressed. I took the opportunity to look around the place, periodically knocking the closet door to keep the dog quiet. I was beginning to feel sorry for the beast, but then I seemed to recall some trivia tidbit stating that a pit bull’s jaw could apply around two thousand pounds of pressure. The image of half my face gone kept me honest.

Rifling through his drawers, I found a bag of pills and a pistol-a Colt.32, fully loaded. I showed it to my father while Pepe tied his sneakers.

“Amigo,”Decker said.

Pepe looked up.

“You’ve got a permit for this?”

No response.

“Didn’t think so. We’re going to borrow it.”

Knowing I was more familiar with the standard police issue Beretta, Decker and I exchanged weapons. He said, “You ever fire this thing, Renaldes? Because I’m going to take this into the lab and it could give you problems if it was used in a crime.”

“I fin’ it,” Pepe told him.

“Yeah, like you found these pharmaceuticals?” I held up the bag of pills.

Renaldes regarded me with tired eyes.

“Hey,” I said. “You play nice, we place nice.”

Decker took one of Renaldes’s belts, pulled the small man’s hands behind his back, and secured the wrists together. “Don’t take it personally.” He held one arm, I took the other, and together we spirited him to the door.

“Wha’ ’bout my dog?”

“If it doesn’t take too long, he should be fine,” Decker answered. “Let’s go.”

The Porsche had a micromini backseat. I squeezed in as best I could lengthwise; then Dad placed Pepe in the passenger’s bucket. We undid Renaldes’s hands, then retied them around the seat back. I had a gun, so did Dad. The Loo started the car and we were off.

In frank talk, we were kidnapping Pepe and that didn’t sit well with my inner child. It also gave me insight-just how easy it was to justify jumping the line. My father wasn’t crooked-I was sure of that-but he seemed to have no problem disregarding due process when it served his purposes.

So where did that leave me?

I stood loyal to my father, and to justify my uneasiness, I convinced myself that I was his imaginary angel sitting on his right shoulder, telling him when to rein it in.

I was holding a gun, prepared to use it if I had to, but the guy wasn’t giving us a lick of problems-just the opposite. He was a passive kind of guy who had lived in the same unit for almost three years. I was beginning to doubt that this wimpy guy was really involved in raping Sarah Sanders. I wondered if maybe Germando El Paso had reversed it for his convenience. Maybe Renaldes had been the lookout while Fedek and El Paso did the nasty. I kept that filed in the back of my head, should we ever make progress on the case.