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  “Some of those were for Miss Dithers.”

  “Who wasn’t nearly as lucky.”

  Margot was quick to point out. “I don’t feel lucky. If I’d showed up a few minutes later someone else would have found Miss Dithers and the shooter would have long gone.”

  “I guess it depends on how you want to look at it, but the important part is you’re still here among the living.”

  “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

  “You know, when you said next time, you’d be the one getting shot, you weren’t supposed to actually go and make it happen.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Can we both stop getting shot for a while?”

  “I’m good with that. Did they say how long I would be here?”

  “At least until tomorrow. They want to make sure the repair on your artery is going to hold before they send you home. Though maybe you shouldn’t go home.”

  “Where should I go?”

  “I was thinking my place, but Shaw seems to think his safe house where you guys stashed Cassie would be a better choice.”

  “Nothing against the safe house, but I’d prefer your place.”

  “Me too, but if someone is looking to kill you, my place isn’t a great place to hide.”

  “Who says I should hide?”

  “Everyone, except maybe the people trying to kill you. One of these times, a bullet is going to find you in a place they can’t fix.”

  Margot couldn’t argue with that either.

  “You could come with me.”

  “I thought the same thing, but apparently the safe house is female only. I’m not even allowed to know where it is.”

  “Considering its usually clients are women hiding from abusive men, I can see why. She doesn’t know you’re one of the good ones.”

  There was a knock on the door and Myers stepped into the room before anyone answered.

  “They told me you were awake. Can we talk?”

  “Why don’t you let her rest?” Radcliff said as Stafford entered the room as well.

  Myers looked at Margot. “We can come back, but if you’re up to it, it’d be nice to find out what you saw before the trail gets any colder.”

  “How long have I been out?”

  “They brought you here yesterday afternoon,” Radcliff told her.

  “I lost a day?”

  “All things considered, losing a day isn’t so bad.”

  Since she could have lost all her days, Margot agreed with that. She looked to Myers. “I can talk, but I don’t know how much I can tell you.”

  “Did you see the shooter?”

  “In a cracked mirror. I can tell you he was tall, built like a guy who likes to spend some time in the gym. He was wearing all black, could have been white or a light-skinned Hispanic.”

  “His face? Hair color?”

  “Never saw it. All I could see was from shoulders down. Once I saw he reloaded the guns, I quit looking and tried to get away. I can tell you he was sporting Mac-10s.”

  Stafford looked at Radcliff. “It looks like we have the only two survivors of this guy in the same room.”

  Radcliff nodded.

  “You knew the other victim?” Myers asked.

  Before Margot could answer, Radcliff said, “I’m pretty sure her boss gave you that information already.”

  “Just looking for confirmation.”

  “If Shaw said it, then it’s true,” Margot told him.

  “An honest private detective?” Stafford snarked. “I didn’t know such a thing existed.”

  Myers ignored the F.B.I. man’s comment and continued, “He said you met with Amanda Dithers yesterday afternoon?”

  “I did.”

  “What time did she leave?”

  “It was around one-thirty.”

  “She was murdered around three-thirty.”

  “If you say so.”

  “That seems to be the best estimate, but it’s only an estimate. That seems to be about the time you arrived at her house.”

  “It was?”

  “Yeah, according to her ring app, that’s when you rang the doorbell. We’ve got video of you ringing the doorbell, checking the garage, and ducking down when her murder went down.

  While you’ve been sleeping, we’ve been busy.”

  When Margot didn’t have anything to say to that, Myers asked, “Did she hire you?”

  “She tried.”

  “You refused?”

  “She’s not a good client.”

  “What did she want you to do?” Stafford asked.

  Margot was tempted to tell him that information fell under the “private” part of private detective, just because he seemed like a jerk, but decided there was nothing to be gained by antagonizing a federal agent. Instead, she said, “She wanted to hire me to find her ex-husband's murderer.”

  “Her husband was murdered? How did I not hear about this?” Myers asked.

  “Because it didn’t happen. I talked to him after she left.”

  “Why would she hire you to solve a murder that didn’t happen?”

  “I wanted to ask her the same question.”

  “You talked to Mr. Dithers?”

  “It was part of me determining he wasn’t dead.”

  “If you weren’t taking the case, why’d you want to talk to him?”

  “Curiosity, I guess. I overheard part of a strange phone call, and then I learned from Radcliff that no one had filed a missing person’s report despite what Miss Dithers told me.”

  “Has it occurred to you that your conversation with Mr. Dithers led to her death?”

  Stafford asked.

  “No, but that’s only because it wasn’t long after I found her that someone started shooting at me, and I’ve been asleep since then.”

  “You know, there’s no need to be a dick,” Radcliff told Stafford.

  “Are you saying I’m wrong? It sounds like she screwed him over using Margot once before and was at it again. I can see why he’d be pissed. He had ties to organized crime. He didn’t pull the trigger on his wife, but he may have set things in motion.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Margot told him, “it could have happened that way. The timing makes sense. This guy hasn’t operated in months, something had to make him stick his head up.

  What did Dithers say?”

  “Well, he may not have been missing before, but he’s made himself scarce.”

  “Are you sure you talked to him?” Stafford asked.

  “It was his phone number, and it sounded like him, but other than that? No.”

  “Do you think he was missing already?” Radcliff asked.

  Stafford shrugged.

  Radcliff looked at Myers. “Why don’t you tell us what the Hell is going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean there’s something you’re not telling us.”

  “You know, that’s not really your business, detective,” Stafford said.

  “I’ve got a bullet wound that says it’s mine,” Margot countered.

  “So do I, more than one,” Radcliff added.

  Myers rubbed his chin like he was thinking about it, and then said, “It’s pretty simple.

  There’s a huge shakeup going on in certain segments of the local black market. Someone is moving to take over.”

  “Someone?” Radcliff asked.

  “Yeah, which is the problem. We haven’t been able to figure out who that someone is. At first, we figured the new leadership down south decided the cartel needed a bigger piece of the pie on this side of the border.”

  “At first?”

  “The muscle certainly seemed like them, but they’ve always preferred to run the export side since they have a monopoly on that side of the border, and all the intel we’ve got says that

  hasn’t changed. The best guess is they are backing whoever is making moves. The trick has been to flush out the person behind it all.”

  “Is that why Burke
was feeding Cassie Cole stories for her YouTube channel?” Margot asked.

  “You know about that?”

  “I do.”

  “Yeah, that was the idea. It got them making moves but not enough to reveal who’s calling the shots.”

  “Making moves? You mean, like murdering people?” Margot asked.

  “They reacted a little more extremely than we anticipated.”

  Margot took a deep breath to stifle her anger and then asked, “Why did you feed her stories about the Masterson Hot Tub Massacre? That had nothing to do with organized crime.”

  “Are you sure? The wife was sleeping with Harry Lee and the victim was in deep.”

  “He laundered money for Harry, but Harry wasn’t involved…”

  “He did more than launder money. He was in deeper than anyone let on, possibly because they didn’t know. Like his replacement, Masterson kept his cards close to the vest.”

  “His replacement?”

  “If we’re right, he was moving all sorts of contraband, just about everything but drugs since that’s Cartel territory. When he died, it created an opening. We’ve been trying to find out who not only filled the void but expanded his piece of the pie considerably.”

  “Mal told me he was doing something that would pay off, could it be him?” Margot suggested.

  “The thought has crossed our minds. He set up the first killer they sent with a car and a place to stay. We also talked to that kid, Heller, in county lock-up. Heller is just a punk, but he’s a punk who knows people. Someone taking up Masterson’s business would want to talk to him.

  The timing works out pretty well too. He was completely off the grid until Masterson got himself killed and then he’s all over the place.”

  “Mal isn’t the type to be in charge though,” Margot told them.

  “No, he doesn’t, but does he know it? People can get ambitious, especially if they see an opportunity.”

  “He told me he had a job that would let us run away together and be set for life. That doesn’t sound like somebody setting up shop.”

  Myers shrugged. “It’s not a perfect theory, but perhaps you should consider that he might have been lying to you.”

  “Wait,” Radcliff said. “If Masterson’s death started all this, was he murdered for this to get rolling?”

  “It’s not impossible, but everything we’ve found still points to Lucas Lau doing it to impress his boss. Like his boss, he didn’t know how much stuff Masterson was into.”

  “Harry Lee was under the impression Masterson worked for him,” Margot pointed out.

  “That was Masterson’s genius; no one knew how much he did. Everyone thought he was a front for somebody else.”

  “It looks like the new person, however, wants everyone to know they’re calling the shots,” Stafford added. “We’re guessing that’s what got Tommy killed. Harry wasn’t ready to go along with the program, and someone wanted to let him know they could get to him.”

  “And you think he was talking to Mal before he got killed?”

  “We do.”

  “So, Mal is out there trying to be the new import king.”

  “Or working for the new import king,” Myers corrected. “That’s why we were hoping you could help us with Harry. Since he’s a big part of that business, he ought to know.”

  “If killing Tommy was a message, it wouldn’t be very effective unless he knew who was sending the message,” Stafford added.

  “You know, you just could have told me that, and I would have just asked him.”

  “He’d tell you?”

  “Probably not, but it’d work just as well as trying to trick him.”

  There was another knock on the door and a doctor entered.

  The doctor looked at Radcliff, “You’re the police officer who is my patient's significant other?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you can stay,” he said. He turned to Stafford and Myers. “Are you the ones who wanted to question her?”

  “Yes,” Myers confirmed.

  “I think she needs a break,” the doctor instructed them, as though he expected resistance.

  Myers shrugged. “We’re telling her more than she’s telling us anyway. We’re going to talk some more later, Margot.”

  And with that, he and Stafford left.

  Chapter 6

  Margot spent another day in the hospital. She slept a lot but her sister, Melanie, spent a lot of time by her side, along with Radcliff. Apparently, they became best friends while Margot was napping.

  Shaw somehow arrived right when Margot was supposed to check out.

  “I’m taking you to Ms. X’s place until this is over,” he told her while she was waiting for the doctor to sign her out.

  “Mrs. X?” Melanie asked.

  “Yeah, for the purpose of this conversation, she’s Mrs. X. She doesn’t want her name out there.”

  “This is the woman who runs the shelter for abused women?” Radcliff asked.

  “Yeah, I like to call it a safe house though, since it is a house after all.”

  “Either way, but why all the secrecy?”

  “Her work has made some enemies. Some people have tried to intimidate her out of the safe house business, and she figured it would be harder to threaten her and her family if people didn’t know her real name.”

  “I guess that makes sense. Do you know?”

  Shaw laughed. “No, I don’t.”

  “I’m fine going back to my place,” Margot told him.

  “I think you should let him take you,” Melanie said.

  “As much as I’d like to take you home with me, I agree as well,” Radcliff added.

  “And do what? I can’t just sit around all day watching television.”

  “According to the Doctor, you’re supposed to take it easy anyway,” Radcliff pointed out.

  “He’s right. Even if you came in to work, you’d be limited to desk duty. Ms. X has Wi-Fi, so you can take your laptop and work from there. I’ve got plenty of potential workman’s comp claims they want us to look at, and most of that stuff is trolling social media anyway. I have to say, I kind of miss the days where you had to go watch the guy claiming to have a bad back to see if he’s going rock climbing. Just checking to see if he posted a video on Instagram doesn’t have the same thrill of the chase.”