Agent Ren Bryce Thriller Series Books 1-3: Blood Runs Cold, Time of Death, Blood Loss

Gary looked at him. ‘Jesus, in the ladies’ room.’

‘Should we wait for her?’

‘Yes, we should,’ said Gary.

Colin made kissing sounds. Robbie threw him a look that would never have an impact on him.

Ren stuck her head in the door. ‘OK, I’m outta here.’

‘What?’ said Robbie.

Gary gestured to her to sit down.

Shit.

‘I’ve been going over these bank jobs,’ said Gary. ‘I’ve made some calls, spoken with some people, and it looks like these all could have organized crime links.’

‘Definitely?’ said Robbie.

‘I said “looks like”.’

‘Based on what?’ said Cliff.

‘Based on the MO,’ said Gary.

‘Links to who?’ said Colin.

‘You’ve all heard of Domenica Val Pando?’ said Gary.

They nodded.

‘I know the name,’ said Robbie.

‘Yeah, you’re what? Twenty-nine?’ said Cliff. ‘You’re too young.’

Gary took a breath. ‘Right, OK. Val Pando was head of one of the most successful organized crime operations in the south. She worked out of a compound in New Mexico. She ran a violent, highly efficient gang that made hundreds of millions in everything – drugs, prostitution, people smuggling, arms dealing –’

‘She lectured at universities,’ said Ren. ‘All across the US – You and Your Fucked-up Mind: Capitalizing on the Crazy.’

Gary stared at her. She flashed him a smile.

He went on. ‘Ten years ago, we put a UCE in there for one year –’

‘I still don’t know how you pulled that off,’ said Colin.

‘With great skill,’ said Gary.

Ren made a sweeping movement with her arm. ‘Why, nothing but the best from the Federal Bureau –’

Gary turned to her, ‘Ren, can you put a sock in it? Can we all focus here?’

Ren looked down.

‘Anyway,’ said Gary, ‘the operation was shut down. But there was a time delay going in. The SWAT teams – LA and Albuquerque – panicked, went in unprepared to pull out the agent, who was in fact caught in the middle of a rival gang’s assault on the compound. At the very end, it was a mess. The buildings were lit on fire by the rival gang. And Val Pando got away.’

‘Wow,’ said Robbie. ‘Where is she now?’

‘Off the radar,’ said Gary. ‘But her perfume’s been left in the air in these latest banks.’

‘Really?’ said Robbie.

‘Not literally,’ said Colin.

Robbie nodded. ‘I thought that would be pretty amazing …’

Gary continued. ‘Val Pando is all smoke and mirrors. One of the world’s biggest fashion designers? His entire operation is a front for a multi-million-dollar narcotics operation, and Val Pando’s his backer. He loves the hiding in plain sight, the glamour, but he could give two shits if he never sold another dress. His heirs will inherit a drug fortune, not a fashion house. Nice thing to find out when you hit eighteen.’

‘My father left me his fishing rod,’ said Cliff.

‘Yeah, you wish you got some dresses,’ said Colin.

‘Which designer is it?’ said Robbie.

‘One of the ones you can’t afford to wear,’ said Colin.

‘Right, OK,’ said Gary. ‘So, based on her MO, based on talking to some of the players involved at that time, we could be looking at Val Pando. She is an extremely intelligent woman, she plans everything, she only hires people who can understand and implement these plans. She is like one of those organizations that employs over-qualified staff. She has people with Masters degrees, PhDs, side by side with the illegals she brings in from South America.’

Ren could feel Robbie digging a pen into her ribs.

Ow. Shit. She shifted in her seat and refocused on Gary.

‘So,’ said Gary, ‘what she does is plan everything, then get the gang to do something sloppy. It took a while for us to work this out before, she did it so well. Local police departments would come to us saying a bunch of mouth-breathers had done the job; we’d go back in and realize it was planned right down to the last.’

‘Oh yeah, here we go,’ said Robbie. ‘It’s always the PDs’ fault.’

‘One hundred per cent,’ said Gary.

‘Woo,’ said Ren. ‘Young Robbie risks a little joke. Brave.’

Robbie blushed.

‘So,’ said Gary, ‘any of the sloppy shit was done for a reason – any reason except one that would lead them to actually getting caught, obviously. Which leads me to our discarded mask. It’s come back from the lab, and the saliva on it? Was traced to a cow.’

‘Livestock Building. Cow. Great,’ said Ren. ‘Did they get a match? Truax, maybe you could look into that …’

By midnight, most of the Safe Streets team had been in Gaffney’s for six hours. Gary and Cliff had left an hour earlier. Robbie was sitting in a booth between two fifty-something blondes, all three of them laughing hysterically. Ren and Colin were on their only common ground – a sea of alcohol.

‘So,’ said Colin. ‘What sorrows are you drowning tonight?’