The Last King of Texas - Rick Riordan Read Free Page B

lead."
    Hernandez stared at me until I supplied a name. "Gene
Schaeffer?"
    Hernandez nodded almost imperceptibly, then looked at
DeLeon. "There was an aggravated assault case about the time you
transferred out to sex crimes, Detective. Local crackhead had been
terrorizing a neighborhood of senior citizens over by Jefferson.
Everybody knew who was doing it, nobody would testify. Along toward
Christmas, this crackhead got a little too excited, beat an old lady
almost to death. Again, nobody would testify, nobody saw anything.
Then, a week later, said crackhead is found with two broken arms,
hanging duct-taped upside down from a railroad crossing gate on
Zarzamora. He's about half dead, eyes pounded so bad he looks like a
raccoon. We cut him down. He gives a full confession for the assault
on the old lady, says please will we put him in jail and let him give
some money to the victim's family. Real heartwarming. He also refuses
to ID his attacker, so we know we got a vigilante out there. A couple
of interesting names came up in the case. Some Christmas cards and
goodies from that neighborhood got mailed to an interesting address
on Queen Anne Street — jam, preserves, fruitcakes."
    "Jellied fruits," I added.
    "Jellied fruits," Hernandez agreed. He
clamped a very strong hand on my shoulder and didn't seem to mind at
all that he was stopping my blood flow. "So what I'm saying
here, Mr. Navarre, is, things change. Friends move on, the paperwork
keeps coming across my desk, favors get depleted, my patience gets
thin. You understanding me here?"
    "Clear as Cuervo," I promised.
    "Outstanding. I hope the rest of the semester
goes well for you, Professor."
    Hernandez gave my shoulder one more crush, nodded to
DeLeon, and went to see about the media who were gathering outside
the police tape by the elevator. The other way down the hall, the
bomb squad was still hanging out, drinking Dr Peppers, talking about
the length of their respective pipe bombs and TNT Ping-Pong balls and
occasionally weaving in references to DeLeon's legs and her probable
lingerie preferences.
    "First case?" I asked her.
    It took DeLeon a few seconds to focus on me. "I
worked agg. assault for a year, Mr. Navarre. Sex crimes for two. I've
seen plenty."
    "First time primary on a homicide?"
    Her jaw tightened.
    "Hell of a case to cut your teeth on," I
agreed.
    "Don't patronize me."
    I held up my hands. Even that much movement made the
soreness in my left arm flare. "Kelsey seems pretty sure the
Feds will take a pass."
    She stared down the hallway. "Like I said, Mr.
Navarre, you've got no special privileges."
    "He mentioned somebody named Sanchez. Who would
that be?"
    DeLeon almost smiled, thought better of it. "I'll
see you around, Mr. Navarre."
    The paramedic got up, began packing his kit, and said
he should be getting me to the hospital. DeLeon nodded.
    She turned toward the bomb-squad guys, who were still
leering at her, then took something from her blazer.
    She hefted the thing in her hand for a split second —
long enough for the bomb squad to register what it was and notice
that its weight was too heavy, but not long enough for them to
rationalize that DeLeon wasn't really that insane. I'll be damned if
I know where she got the Ping-Pong ball, or what she'd filled it
with. Maybe she'd lifted it from the student rec center when she went
to wash up. Maybe she'd been carrying it in her pocket for months for
just such an occasion. Police are nothing if not resourceful.
    DeLeon said, "Hey, Hills, catch."
    Then she did a fast underhand pitch at the chest of
the blond sergeant. You've never seen a bomb squad scatter with so
little room to maneuver and so much Dr Pepper spraying into the air.
The Ping-Pong ball hit Sergeant Hills in the chest and bounced
harmlessly to the floor.
    Hills' face went the color of chalk dust as he looked
up at DeLeon. "You crazy fucking bitch."
    His fingers splayed open. A large Dr Pepper stain was
seeping into his crotch and down his left