Fractured by Kate Watterson Page A

to see if he would really go ahead and buzz them up, but Santiago seemed confident enough, and in the end, he was right, though it wasn’t very reassuring when he commented in the elevator, “Make sure the safety is released on your weapon. Paulo will be polite, but his friends are not as predictable. I’m hoping he’ll be alone.”
    Now she was too. She glanced at her companion. “Sounds like this is a great idea.”
    Santiago’s eyes were a particular shade of vivid blue she’d never seen before. Something between sapphire and a summer sky on a clear day. They reflected casual amusement, as if they weren’t about to visit a drug dealer, who just happened to be an old friend. He checked his weapon as if to emphasize he wasn’t kidding. “I just said it was an idea. I never said great. Don’t worry. Paulo will like you. He’s partial to blondes.”
    â€œPerfect.” She did the same thing with her Glock. “Remind me to get specifics next time you have a suggestion.”
    â€œWill do.” His grin was cheeky, but faded quickly. “If we’re careful, we should be fine. He likes to dance under the law and not draw attention. Smart guy.”
    The hallway was polished and lit by sconces, lined by discreet doorways with embossed numbers. Jason obviously knew just where he was going, which she might question later, but for now, they were there and if there was a chance he could help with the case, then maybe it was worth it.
    The moment Santiago rapped his knuckles on the door, it opened.
    A man in a robe stood in the doorway, supporting the claim he might still be sleeping even though it was past noon, but Ellie was getting used to talking to people in their sleepwear on this particular day. He was dark-haired, with a fox-like face full of angles around a pointed nose, and eyes that reminded her of a doll, inexpressive and unblinking. His voice sounded like he’d swallowed a pail of gravel. “Jace, buddy. I’m kinda hopin’ this is a social call, you know what I mean? Especially now.” He looked Ellie up and down. “Nice. Who’s the friend?”
    To say she and her partner were friends was stretching it. Ellie took out her badge. “I’m Detective MacIntosh, Mr. Astin. We were hoping maybe you could help us out on an investigation as an expert, if you will. Can we come in?”
    â€œExpert? I like that. Pretty diplomatic. Never been called that before.” He stepped back. “Come on in. Babes are always welcome here even if they are cops. You should have called first. I would have picked up the place and put on some pants.”
    Santiago walked into the condo in front of her, and she didn’t mind that at all. His warning was exactly what was on her mind when she realized who and what might be behind that door. Luckily, it was clear and it appeared they were alone with Mr. Astin.
    The main living area was all about chrome and glass and Astin had what she suspected was a pretty great view at night, but otherwise there was no personality at all. No pictures, no art, nothing but a place he could probably walk away from without any regret.
    Good idea. In his line of work it was best to have an exit plan handy.
    Jason said, after a swift pointed survey of the main room, “We alone?”
    Astin moved over to a couch and sat down. “We need to be? I was just having coffee. You want some?”
    The last question was directed at her and the double entendre not subtle at all. Ellie had dealt with more than a few like him, so it didn’t faze her. “No, thanks. We’re here to ask if on a theoretical basis you might know where someone might purchase the drug that is known on the street as rufilin.”
    Those flat black eyes stared back at her. “Now why would I know that, sweetheart?”
    â€œBecause you’re a drug dealer.” Santiago sounded exasperated. “Jesus, Paulo, if this