Free Land of Entrapment by Andi Marquette Page B

“Okay, next topic. About your Mister Sorrell. Turns out he does have a record. Basic stupid juvie shit. He’s from Denver originally and got into trouble there while he was in high school. Vandalism of school property—
    I’m waiting on the incident reports—petty theft.
    Sounds like your garden-variety candy bars and beer from the convenience store stuff. Comes from a broken home and grew up with his dad. No word on where his mom went. He moved here in 2003 after completing his GED and enrolled in a few classes through UNM continuing ed. He does have an aunt here in town, whose address is the same as what’s listed for his. You might want to have a chat with her.”
    Chris provided the aunt’s address, which was on Albuquerque’s east side. I had an image of what the neighborhood looked like. Run-down suburbia, filled with bored teenagers who sat on front stoops at night smoking and drinking cheap beer, talking about who was doing whom, who was pregnant, and who might be running with gangs.
    “Thanks, Chris. That’s a huge help.”
    “No hay problema. I’m working on the others and should have some more info about Cody in the next couple of days. I can also get you in with our gang division. They’ve got files on tattoos and for the past few years at least, they’ve been tracking racist groups, too. They might have a line on the artist who worked on Cody’s back.”
    “Jesus, Chris. You are a total godsend.”
    “That’s a lot of spiritual talk for one sentence, esa,” she said teasingly. “Let me call somebody down there to see if they’ll let you have a look. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
    “I so owe you.”
    “And I will so collect.” She laughed. “You’re a good friend and it’s the least I can do. You okay tonight?”
    “Yeah. I’m tired. I’ll crash here and check in with you tomorrow.”
    “Sounds good. Buenas noches.”
    “ ’Night.” I hung up and used the remote to turn the TV on. With some inane reality show on in the background, I made a list of all the angles I wanted to pursue. Tomorrow, I’d finish going through Megan’s files and if I had time, I’d cruise over to Cody’s aunt’s place and see what I could scare up over there. I’d also call Judy. I put the tablet down and closed the inner front door and opened a window in the bedroom a crack. The place stayed fairly cool, but I still flipped the switches for the swamp cooler to drive the rest of the heat out of the house. I turned the TV off and put on a pair of boxers and a clean tee, then went to the bathroom, where I washed up and spent some time flossing and brushing my teeth.
    I was pretty tired and didn’t feel much like reading, so I called Grandpa to check in with him.
    Luke answered. He said everything was fine. We chatted a bit and then signed off. I called my folks as well. They didn’t answer so I left a message, telling them I’d call back in the next day or so. I then turned out the light and climbed into bed, staring into the dark and listening to the hum of the cooler.
    I thought about Cody and Megan, and about what might draw her to a guy like that. He was good-looking, and he was probably charming and had that
    “aw, shucks” thing that attracted people to James Dean. He was kind of a bad boy and Megan had flirted with that sort of lifestyle for a while. She was still trying to figure out who she was and Cody probably flattered the hell out of her, telling her how proud he was of her for getting off drugs and for trying to make something of herself. If he was Megan’s primary recruiter, chances were that he figured out pretty quickly what she needed to hear to draw her to him.
    I’d have to go through her e-mail files to see how they interacted. I was not looking forward to that so I thought instead about Melissa and what Chris had said about closure. I definitely could use some of that, especially since we were working together to find Megan. It struck me, suddenly, how jarring it was to