Several years before, he had bought back the land on which his family’s compound had been situated, and he had rebuilt some of the facilities. He had put in a private airstrip and would fly in there from time to time, and stay there all alone for a few days. He would walk the site, sleep in the facsimile of the house in which he had been raised, and imagine how life could have been had the law not destroyed the Buckleys. That was his therapy, his respite from a world that he had learned to dominate on his terms but also would never truly belong to.

  He had tried in vain to teach his brothers that real change meant playing the game until you got to the point where you controlled the game. Outsiders did not make real change. You had to become an insider, and you did so through a series of steps: ingratiate, annex, dominate, and then consolidate. Let the changes be so incremental that they would never see what really was coming until it was far too late.

  However, his ill-educated brothers had not listened to their older sibling’s advice. Since his teens Ken had been in prison. He had only been recently released from his last stint for another stupid and meaningless crime. Ken was particularly unteachable, his skin tatted with crap he probably didn’t even understand. He was a loser and not really worth worrying about.

  His sisters, like their mother, had abandoned the family when they reached adulthood. Buckley had never forgiven them. He had also never married or had a serious relationship with a woman, because he knew them to be totally untrustworthy. When he required sex, he paid for it. The night passed and the lady was not there in the morning. And that suited him just fine.

  But Ken was still family, so Buckley did worry about him. When he got the call about what had happened from a police officer who had found his phone number among Ken’s personal belongings, he had flown in on his jet two hours later. He had sat through Ken’s first surgery. And he had gone to the motel to find out what had happened, and had also spoken to the local police.

  A woman, of course, had done this to his brother. A tall, strong woman who had given no name and paid for her room in cash. She had told the woman at the motel that she was an undercover cop. Yet the police had no knowledge of her; Buckley, in his friendly, nonthreatening way, had asked for details about this, and the police had been very accommodating because Buckley was Ken’s brother and looked and acted eminently respectable. So the woman had lied. And she had nearly killed Ken. Buckley had also confirmed that the woman had done all this to Ken with her bare hands. A formidable woman, physically, because Ken was no lightweight when it came to a brawl.

  The surgeon had said that they would have to run more tests and do more imaging to make certain there would be no lasting damage to his body or his brain.

  Buckley would take care of his little brother, even if it meant hiring people to change his diaper and feed him through a straw. And the woman needed to be found and punished appropriately. In Buckley’s mind, there was no other possible outcome.

  He left the hospital, climbed into a rented Mercedes, and drove back over to the motel. He was a man who was usually driven places, but he had come here alone. This was family business. When others needed to be called in, he would call them in. First, he had to do some more digging.

  And a thought had occurred to him.

  Beth, the woman at the motel’s front desk, seemed pleased to see him again.

  “Have they caught her yet? I gave a description.”

  “Unfortunately, no. But when I was here last time I noted the camera out front. Is it functioning?”

  “Oh, damn, I forgot about that. Yes, it is. The cops didn’t even ask about that.”

  “May I see the film?”

  She showed him to a back room and had him sit in front of a computer. A few moments later scenes appeared on the screen, and Beth sped up the video until she got to a certain point. However, there were numerous blurry and totally blacked-out segments.

  “That’s her car,” she said in a triumphant tone, hitting a key to return the video to normal speed. “The gray Civic.”

  Buckley took out his phone and keyed in the license plate number and then took several photos of the car. “But where is the woman? If you have the car, you should have her as well on the security footage.”

  “It’s this lousy system,” whined Beth. “It jumps around and doesn’t film everything. And the camera is really old and half the time doesn’t even work.” She ran it back and then played it forward again. “You see there, and there? Where it’s all blurry and gray? That was probably when she came and went to the office. This is the only good shot of the car. But at least we got that.”

  He thanked the woman with a hundred-dollar bill.

  “I hope you get her,” said Beth, eagerly taking the money. “She’s a real bitch.”

  “And the woman with Ken whom you mentioned earlier?”

  “Rosa? Yeah, the bitch drove her out of here. Said she was taking her somewhere safe.”

  “Do you have a picture of Rosa? I hope we don’t have to rely on security footage again.”

  “We don’t. I have it on my phone.”

  Buckley looked intrigued. “And why is that, I wonder?”

  Beth looked embarrassed. “One day she…she had on a dress I liked. I was thinking of getting one, so I…I took her picture.”

  He looked over her frumpy clothes and pudgy frame. “I see.”

  She showed him the photo, and he took a picture of it with his phone.

  “Very lovely woman,” said Buckley. “Thank you.”

  “Are you going to try to find her?”

  “Yes, I want to let her know about Ken’s condition.”

  “I doubt she cares.”

  “I will do so anyway. Any ideas where she might be?”

  “Like I said, the big gal mentioned she was taking her someplace safe. Now, there’s a women’s shelter in town. You might want to try there. It’s on Everson near Fuller Street.”

  “Thank you again.”

  He got back into the car, and texted the images of the license plate to an associate and asked him to run down information on it. Then Buckley drove off to look for Rosa.

  He had a great many other things of importance on his plate right now. But he had set all of them aside for this. His family, granted, wasn’t much. Yet it was still his family. And in Buckley’s world, family could not remain unavenged. After his father’s death, his whole life philosophy had revolved around one concept: You can never turn the other cheek. So Ken’s attacker had to be found and beaten badly enough to be hospitalized.

  In Buckley’s world it was as simple as that.

  Chapter 25

  BETH’S INFORMATION PROVED TO BE SPOT-ON. However, Buckley hadn’t been able to enter the women’s shelter and directly talk with Rosa due to their visitor safety protocols.

  He sat in his car for several hours and watched women come and go from the shelter. Finally, his patience was rewarded when Rosa walked out, turned left, and entered a café a block down from the shelter. He got out and followed her in. She had taken a table at the back, and he walked over and introduced himself.

  She looked frightened when he told her that he was Ken’s older brother.

  “I’m not supposed to be talking to anybody like you. They said I could come here for a few minutes just to stretch my legs, but I have to go right back. They know where I am and if I’m not back—”

  He interrupted her to say disarmingly, “Please, I wish you nothing but the best. I know my brother is an idiot and dangerous. He always has been. He’s been getting into trouble for so long I have given up on him. I really have. But he called me and told me what happened and I came in to see him. I was close by, you see.”

  “He called you, so he’s okay then?” she said nervously.

  “He was beaten up pretty badly but, yes, he’s okay. He, of course, disclaimed all responsibility, but I know better and I talked to the people at the motel. They were very clear that he was at fault and that the young woman who came to your aid was quite the heroine.”

  “She was. She saved my life probably.”

  “May I sit down?”

  She hesitated for a moment, but then looked at the crowded café and probably decided it was safe enough.

  “Okay, sure.”

  Buckley sat across from her. “I have made it very clear to Ken that if he ever comes near you again, you will press charges and have him sent to jail for a long time.”

  She looked at him wide-eyed. “And you’d be okay with that?”

  “Ken belongs in jail.”

  “How did you even know where I was?”

  “The woman at the motel mentioned this women’s shelter. It was a shot in the dark, but, quite by luck, as you were coming out, I was pulling up in my car.”

  “But how did you know what I looked like?”

  “Again, the woman at the motel described you in detail. She said you were quite lovely, and she was right.”

  Rosa looked down and a smile crept across her lips. “Thank you.”

  Buckley ran his eye over the woman and quickly summed her up, having known dozens just like her. Sexy and she knew it, feisty, not well-educated, capable of being physically dominated, and also susceptible to just the right sort of talk, encouragement, and flattery, but with a red line that could not be crossed. He marveled at how his obtuse, one-dimensional brother had managed it with her. Probably through brute strength, which only worked for a time with women. Then the woman either wised up and fled or pissed off the man enough to where her death followed.

  Or his.

  The waitress came over and they ordered coffees. Buckley waited until they were delivered to start speaking again. “I do have a question. Ken is not subtle or complex. His anger issues are quite apparent. With that in mind, why were you even with him?”

  Rosa shrugged. “He was different, in the beginning. He was nice and treated me nice. Then he changed. Like overnight. I was going to leave him. Nobody deserves to be treated like that. I gave him lots of chances.”

  “I’m sure you did. I gave him lots of chances as well. So it was fortunate that this woman showed up when she did.”

  “Yeah. See, Ken was beyond pissed because he said I’d looked at another guy for a couple seconds. I mean, as if. I’d never do that because he’d kill me.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. So what can you tell me about your savior?”

  “Why?” Rosa said cautiously. “Look, I don’t want her getting into trouble. She told Ken to cool it and walk away. But he was going to knife her and then he pulled his gun.”

  Buckley spread his hands in a disarming gesture. “I’m not here to get her into trouble. But the police are looking for her. I want to make sure that she knows Ken won’t be pressing charges against her, because I also made that clear to him. As you also pointed out, Ken was going to hurt her.”

  “Hell yes he was. He said he was going to kill her. He fired two shots from the pistol before she knocked him out. So why are the police looking for her then? If she didn’t do anything wrong and Ken isn’t pressing charges?”

  “There is one small problem that goes outside of anything having to do with Ken. She apparently told people that she was an undercover cop. The police frown on that. I believe that’s why they’re looking for her. For identifying herself as a police officer.”

  “She only said that to get that witch at the front desk off her case.”

  “Nevertheless, I’m just telling you what I’ve been told. So do you have any idea where she is, or what her name is?”

  “No, she never told me her name. And I didn’t ask. But I think she was from around here. I mean, she knew where the women’s shelter was. We drove straight there.”

  “Do you believe she might have stayed there at some point?” asked Buckley.

  “I guess it’s possible. I mean, why else would she know where it was?”

  “Unless she worked there at some point?” suggested Buckley. “Or had a friend who stayed or worked there?”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

  “What are your plans?” asked Buckley.

  “I’m not sure I have any right now.”

  “What is your line of work?” Buckley asked.

  “I used to be a receptionist. But I can do nails. And I did some personal fitness training.”

  “Yes, you look very fit. So you did that before Ken came into your life?”

  “I…I had some problems with stuff that sort of messed me up for a while,” Rosa replied, averting her gaze. “Ken and I met at a party. We hit it off, so…”

  “Were they substance abuse problems?”

  “Why do you say that?” she asked, giving him an offended look.

  “Because that’s the problem most people have that messes up their lives. But I’m not judging you. Lots of people get addicted for all sorts of reasons.”

  “Well, I kicked it, at least I’m pretty sure I did.”

  He took out his wallet, counted out a thousand dollars, and handed them across.

  “What’s this for?” Rosa asked with a stunned expression.

  “Call it a down payment on financing your post-Ken life.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “No, I feel that I do.”

  She quickly put the cash in her jeans pocket. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She gazed admiringly at him, obviously attracted by his good looks and expensive clothes and cultured and generous manner. “I can’t believe you’re Ken’s brother.”

  “We were always very different. But if he had made better choices, he could have become what I did. Or perhaps even better. He had some talents.”

  “I wish I’d met you instead of him,” she said coyly, gracing him with a smile as she toyed with a lock of her hair and leaned forward to show a flash of cleavage. “Look, I’ll leave you my number, in case you have any more…you know, questions. Maybe we could have a drink?”

  “Maybe we could. Shall we head back?”

  He walked her to the shelter and watched as she disappeared inside after giving him a smile and a little wave.

  “Saw you give her that money, mister.”

  Buckley turned to see a woman standing there. She was in her fifties and had clearly suffered a hard life. Her clothes were dirty and disheveled and her eyes unfocused and her body wobbly. She said, “I live here, too.” She pointed to the shelter. “I heard you talking to that pretty Mex girl over coffee. I was having coffee too, with my last dollar.”

  “I see,” said Buckley. “Perhaps you can earn some money, too.”

  The lady looked at her falling-apart shoes. “I was here when El brought her in.”

  “El?” said Buckley.

  “El Cain.”

  “Is El short for something? Ellen, Eleanor?”

  “Don’t know about that.”

  “Exactly how do you know her?”

  “She used to be here, years ago. I come here off and on. You don’t forget El. Tallest woman I’ve ever met. And tough. She don’t take shit from nobody.”

  “What else do you know about her?” asked Buckley.

  The woman eyed him funny. “Saw you give her money,” she said again.

  Buckley produced ten twenty-dollar bills and passed them to the woman.

  She pocketed the money, looking warily around as though to check who might be watching, and said, “She’s a good person. Helped me.”

  “Do you know anything about her background? Where she came from? What she does for a living?”

  The woman thought for a moment and then snapped her fingers. “She does that kickboxing stuff. You know? That MM-something.”

  “MMA? Mixed martial arts?”

  The woman pointed at him. “Yep, that’s it.”

  “Where does she fight?”

  “There’s a place on the south side of town. Old shoe factory or something like that. Went there one time to watch two gals near kill each other. Never saw El fight, but I bet she was good. Don’t take shit off nobody, like I said. She told me she fought there.”

  “She apparently is a very good fighter. When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Well, when she brought in the Mex gal.”

  “Anything else?”

  “She’s a good person,” she said again.

  “I’m sure she is. Thank you.”

  Chapter 26

  BUCKLEY MADE SOME CALLS AND FINALLY located the old shoe factory. There was a fight scheduled the next night. He spent the day with his brother at the hospital after he’d undergone another surgery. As he stared down at his unconscious brother, Buckley had the sensation that this might be as good as it got for Ken. And that saddened him more than he thought it would.

  The next night Buckley headed to the fights. The venue had an invitation-only list that he circumvented by passing the bouncer out front a hundred dollars.

  “Go right in, sir” was the bouncer’s immediate reply as he tacked on a big smile.

  The place held about two hundred people, who were both fired up and drunk. The fighters were two men with shaved heads and chiseled physiques, and tats that covered more of their exposed bodies than not. Buckley did not care about the fight. He made discreet inquiries among the staff and quickly focused on the man named Sam.

  After the fight was over he cornered Sam in a back hall.

  “El Cain?”

  “What about her?”

  “I’d like to know more about her than I do right now.”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “I’m a curious man. I understand she’s a good fighter.”

  Sam shrugged. “Yeah, although she’s past her prime if you’re in the business and thinking about taking her on. But she’s sneaky. And do not get in range of her kicks. Man or woman, it don’t matter. She brings a load.”