Page 100 of Violent Attraction

“Well, shit. He looks just like Madden.” Same eyes, same facial structure, just change the mouth and take away the small bump and you have the Special Agent.

“I asked Ronaldo about it for weeks, but he never gave me an answer. That picture tells me that Ronaldo and Madden Sr, were friends and close ones at that. Given what’s on the table they also had to be working together.”

My eyes travel to the edge of the picture and see what Leo’s referring to. There are wads of cash just sitting there like they just got paid.

“You talk to Madden about this?” I hand the picture back to Leo, who shakes his head.

“No. Our conversations have been strictly about Ronaldo’s everyday life and some of the stuff he’s done in the past, nothing about the picture or why he has a vendetta against the Muertos.”

Leo has been giving information to Madden for a few months now. You would think that the DEA would move faster in arresting Ronaldo, but that’s just me.

“Where you able to get any information on Madden Sr. and what he did for a living?” If Drake was able to find the picture, he must have been able to find out where the man works.

And also, who in the actual fuck names a kid Drake? Were his parents thinking that he was going to become a famous rapper or something?

“He worked for the FBI until his death.”

Well color me surprised.

“I guess like father, like son.” Leo doesn’t realizes just how much he and Madden are alike.

“I guess so.” Leo looks down at the picture in his hands and inspects it as if something new is going to jump out.

My mind is still on the fact that Madden Sr. was FBI until his death.

“Does that pretty file of yours say how exactly the man died?”

Leo puts down the photo and grabs the file and shuffles through the papers until he finds the one that he is looking for.

“Car accident about thirty-two years ago.” He hands me the sheet to look at.

“How old is Madden?” I ask as I look over the paper that so happens to be a police report.

“Thirty-four.”

My eyes scan the police report, and right away I notice two things.

The French wording, and the fact that the car accident took place in Quebec, Canada.

Where my father met my mother. Where he lived for months before moving her down to San Pedro.

There’s no way.

I scan the document again, this time looking for a date. In the right-hand corner the date written in pencil.

The date is right around the time that my father was sent to Canada to cross over some cocaine.

Fuck.

“Leo, why did you show me that picture?”

I look up at him and his dark brows bunch up in confusion.

“For you to see if maybe you saw something that I didn’t.”

I nod, not saying anything, just going back to reading the police report.

Madden Sr. was in a car accident caused by a faulty brake like. Not only was the brake line faulty, but the gas line was also punctured.

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