Chapter 2 Best patner

Aria

The body was still warm when we got there.

"Female, mid-twenties," Chris muttered beside me, crouched near the dumpster behind the club. "Neck snapped. No visible weapon."

"Or blood," I added. "Which means she died here, fast."

The stench of booze, piss, and cheap perfume clung to the alley walls. I pulled the collar of my jacket higher and exhaled through my nose. The night pulsed with muffled bass from the club's back door. No one inside even realized a girl had died ten feet from their VIP line.

I stared at her face still twisted in shock. Her eyes wide. Her mouth slightly parted. She was wearing a sequined mini-dress, torn on one side. One heel was missing.

"ID?" I asked.

Chris stood, snapping off his gloves. "Jasmine Vega. Twenty-three. Worked here. Bartender."

I nodded. "I'll check the cameras."

He gave me a look. "You sure you're up for this?"

I didn't answer. Just kept walking toward the rear security door.

Because the truth? No I wasn't.

I hadn't slept since Dominic Virelli walked out of prison. I kept seeing his face in the rain, that smirk like he knew something I didn't. Like he was already ten moves ahead. My hands had trembled all morning. My gut had been twisted since sunrise.

But murder doesn't wait for me to get my head straight.

And Jasmine Vega deserved someone who gave a damn.

2:27 a.m. – Back Office Security Room

I fast-forwarded through the footage with a slow-burning headache behind my eyes. The club's manager a twitchy guy named Neil who reeked of weed and Axe hovered awkwardly in the corner.

"Go wait outside," I told him without looking up.

He left in a hurry.

Chris leaned over my shoulder. "Anything?"

"There," I said, pausing the frame. "That's her Jasmine. 1:38 a.m. Walking into the alley. Alone."

I pressed play.

Jasmine stepped outside. She was on the phone. Pacing. Agitated. She hung up fast. Started crying. Then she stopped suddenly. Looked behind her.

Another figure entered the frame.

Male. Hood up. Gloves. Tall.

He grabbed her by the arm.

She struggled.

He snapped her neck like it was second nature. Cold. Efficient. Then he dropped her like she was trash and walked off camera.

I froze the frame. Rewound. Froze again.

Chris leaned closer. "There pause it."

We both stared at the frame.

A split second. His hood shifted. Light from the overhead camera caught part of his jawline, and a tattoo behind his left ear.

A chess knight.

I exhaled. "That's Leo Ortega."

Chris's eyes narrowed. "You sure?"

"Positive. He was picked up two years ago for assaulting his ex in Koreatown. Same tattoo. I was on that case."

Chris nodded. "Let's bring him in."

4:46 a.m. – South L.A. Apartment Complex

We banged on the door twice. The lights were on. A baby cried somewhere on the floor above us. The building smelled like mold and old noodles.

"Leo Ortega!" I yelled. "LAPD! Open the door!"

No response.

Chris raised his brows. "Want to bet he's running?"

I kicked the door in.

We moved fast cleared the living room, bathroom, kitchen.

Bedroom door locked.

"Leo!" I shouted. "You're making it worse!"

Silence.

Chris stepped aside. "Your turn."

I kicked the bedroom door in too.

He tried to climb out the window. Didn't make it far.

"Down!" I barked. "Hands behind your head! Now!"

He hesitated, breathing hard. I raised my gun. My hands were steady now.

Chris cuffed him while I read him his rights.

7:20 a.m. – Interrogation Room 3

Leo Ortega wasn't crying. But he wasn't far off.

"She was gonna go to the cops," he muttered, eyes darting across the table. "Said she was done lying. That she'd tell 'em what I did to the other girl."

Chris leaned against the wall. "So you killed her to shut her up."

"She was gonna ruin everything. I'm on parole. You know what happens if they send me back inside?"

I stared at him. "You murdered someone. You deserve to go back inside."

His jaw clenched. "She said she loved me."

"You don't kill someone you love," I snapped. "You choke on their name for the rest of your life."

He didn't answer.

Chris slid the confession form toward him. "Sign it. We already have the footage."

9:02 a.m. – Downtown Precinct

Case closed.

Chris tossed the final report on the file stack and dropped into his chair. "We're good at this," he said.

"Yeah," I murmured.

But my mind wasn't on Leo Ortega anymore.

It was on Dominic Virelli.

Because if someone like Leo sloppy, impulsive, stupid could almost get away with murder in a matter of minutes... what could a man like Dominic do with sixteen years of planning?

He was out there. Breathing free air. Watching. Waiting.

And I knew, deep in my bones, that Dominic didn't forget about me.

He didn't forget about my father.

This city had no idea what kind of storm had just been unleashed.

But I did.

And I wasn't going to stop until I put Dominic back in a cage no matter what it cost me.