Out For Justice by Vicki Taylor

“We ain’t talking to no cops.”
    Tough guy image, Karen thought.
    “Suit yourself. We can have a nice conversation here, or we can all go down to the station and talk there.” Sam spread out his hands to include everyone. “It’s your choice.”
    The other men murmured among themselves in Spanish. Karen understood enough to know that they were not thrilled about going down to the station and wanted the first guy to shut up. Dissention in the ranks. A perfect opportunity to use them against each other.
    “Hey, you.” Karen pointed to one of the men. His eyes shifted away from her then back. He tucked a hand into his pants pocket then pulled out a pack of cigarettes. With hands that weren’t quite steady, he lit one, and then put the pack back into his pocket. His pants slid low on his hips. The ragged cuffs dragged along the ground. His shirt hung on his thin frame, untucked, dirty, and worn. “What’s your name?”
    “Juan,” he mumbled.
    “Juan?’
    “ Si . Yes.”
    “Juan, we’re looking for one of your buddies. Raymond. Have you seen him around lately?”
    “No.”
    “No, you haven’t seen him?”
    “No, I haven’t seen him.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “What do you mean, ‘are you sure?’ He said he hasn’t seen him.” Karen turned back to the tough guy.
    “Was I talking to you? I don’t think so. You just stand back and be quiet.”
    The other men laughed. Karen had a feeling tough guy didn’t like to be laughed at and especially didn’t like being told what to do by a woman.
    “Now, Juan. When was the last time you saw Raymond?”
    Juan looked hesitantly around at his friends. Some shook their heads. Juan turned back to Karen. “I don’t know. A week. Two.”
    “Where’d you see him last?”
    “Here.” Juan pointed to the storefront. “He was bragging about his new girlfriend again.” The other men muttered broken comments in Spanish.
    “Girlfriend, huh? Karen asked as she exchanged a look with Sam. “A crazy bitch with little ta-tas?” Some of the men’s heads lifted quickly when Karen repeated their comments back to them in English. She knew they were going to be more guarded about their comments from then on. “Did this girlfriend have a name?”
    “We just called her ‘crazy bitch’.”
    “Do you know where I can find Raymond and his crazy bitch?”
    A chorus of “I dunno” answered her back. Karen sighed. She needed to change her tactics. She was getting nowhere with this group. “All right, Sam. Call dispatch to send a few patrol cars and have them come and pick these guys up.”
    “Hey, we’re not doin’ nothin’—”
    “What for?”
    “I’m outa here.”
    “Hold on there.” Sam grabbed the man’s arm to keep him from leaving. “We’re looking for a little cooperation. If we don’t get it, we’ll take you down to the station and charge you with loitering and then maybe obstruction or aiding and abetting a known felon. Now, does anyone want to change their answer?”
    “Don’t be such a hardass man.”
    “Yeah, man. It’s too hot to be comin’ down so hard. Be cool.”
    “Look,” Karen said, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Do you know where I can find Raymond?”
    The men looked at each other as if to weigh their options. An unspoken agreement spread between them. “Yeah, man. He lives about ten blocks from here, down that way.” Tough guy pointed down the same road they had parked their car. “Blue house.”
    “There are little dwarf statues in the yard.”
    “Nah, man. They’re not dwarfs, they’re elves.”
    “Gnomes, asshole. How many times does that crazy bitch have to tell you?”
    “All right, we get it. There are little statues in the yard.” Karen pulled out her notebook and made a few notes. “Thanks.”
    While Sam drove, Karen keyed the address information into the computer and waited to find out if there were any prior calls. Sam parked across from the blue house. One domestic disturbance showed up on the screen as