Page 20 of Shadows of Justice

“You ever have a run-in with a girl named Mary-Ann? Goes by Chica Blanca?” Sugar bursts out laughing, standing up straight to turn around so I can check her front.

“Nah, never heard of her,” she says, still snickering at the name.

“Well, maybe you have,” I say, raising my eyebrows pointedly. Her brow scrunches for a minute, and then her eyes brighten. She looks down at my hand as I discreetly hold the clear baggie of coke that I pulled out of the lining of her skirt. “In fact, maybe you’ve heard of her a few times, an associate of Frankie ‘The Crank?’” She watches as I tuck it back into her skirt and then her bloodshot eyes meet mine, full of understanding.

“Yup. She’s a nasty bitch, that Chica Blanca,” she says loudly, and Carlos looks at her thoughtfully, listening.

“You hear that, Fernandez?” I say, my blood pressure rising. “Our sweetheart Sugar here says that she buys her shit from a Chica Blanca now, and that she has way better shit than her dead boyfriend ‘The Crank’ ever did.” I raise my eyebrows enthusiastically, and Carlos’s purses his lips. “Isn’t that interesting?”

“Sugar, you’re buyin’ baggies off of a bigwig like ‘The Crank?’” Carlos asks, and my stomach falls. “How does that figure? And what do you mean, ‘dead’ boyfriend?”

Sugar looks at me, worry crossing her makeup-caked face, and then forces a smile, her jewel-encrusted incisor glinting.

“I’m a big girl, officer. I do things with the big guns!” She lifts her hands, making finger guns and “shoots” them, making a pew pew sound with her mouth.

Fucking junkies.

Carlos takes out his cuffs and starts to handcuff the younger girl, but Sugar starts to protest. “What the fuck, Schaeffer?” she shouts, and I cut her off before she can run her mouth.

“Los, come on, let’s give them a pass tonight,” I say. “I want to look into this Chica Blanca shit.”

He quirks a brow at me, because in the four years that we’ve been partners, I’ve never given someone a pass like this, but he shrugs.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day ladies,” he says. “Don’t let us catch you out here again. And get this girl some real clothes and some water, Sugar. She looks like she’s about to keel over.”

Sugar shoots Carlos a jaunty salute and grabs the dark haired girl roughly in a hold, giving her a noogie.

“Stay safe out there!” Sugar calls joyfully after us and then oinks a few times, like a total asshole. I roll my eyes at Carlos and he laughs.

We climb into the car, my pulse racing. I’m so close to closing in on Mary-Ann. Sure, I let Sugar off, but she’s harmless—unless you count venereal diseases.

I pull the SUV laptop around on the mount to face me, and start typing as fast as I can. I search Mary-Ann and cross reference the alias “Chica Blanca.” A mugshot of an overweight caucasian woman pops up, her hair dyed black and blonde and face layered in makeup. She did some time ten years back for assault, and was brought in on numerous possession charges—one six months ago with intent to distribute that got thrown out on a technicality before it went to trial. I’m practically salivating.

“This has gotta be her!” I exclaim, showing the screen to Carlos. “Mary-Ann Lewiston.” He nods.

“Yeah, Schaeffer, she sounds like a baddie. Not sure what it’s got to do with us, though.”

“What do you mean? There’s an address here, let’s go drive by and see if we see anything that gives us probable cause!” Carlos looks at me like I have ten heads.

“That’s not even close to protocol, what are you talking about?” he asks me. “That address isn’t anywhere near our sector. You want to go driving around in a random neighborhood, on the clock, based on the word of a strung-out prostitute? Sugar would probably tell you Captain Jennings sold her her shit if she thought it’d get her out of trouble.”

My face falls. Shit. I’m losing him. My palms start to sweat and my thoughts spin. I didn’t think this far into my plan.

“I need this, Los. I’ve gotta get in good with the captain or I have no hope for that shield after my fuck-up with my report on the third.”

His expression softens. I’m getting to him, I can tell.

So, I go in for the kill.

“You didn’t see my dad,” I say quietly. “He was so pissed at me. I’ve gotta do something good so they’ll forget about the whole thing.”

He mulls it over as the girls disappear around the corner, faux leather shining in the street lights.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says. “Call it in, and see what the overnight lieutenant says. If he clears us, we’ll go.”

“All right, I’ll take it,” I say, but I bite my lip. Cranston is on tonight, and he’s a mean old bastard. He never says yes to me for anything. Besides, Carlos is right. I need to do this by the book and not fuck around any more than I already have.

This has to work, though. The new and improved Viv is going to fix this.

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