Most Wanted by Michele Martinez Page A

I’ll find Bigga,” he said. “But so far the son of a bitch isn’t returning my beeps. I’ve been working terrorism, so I haven’t kept up with my old drug snitches.”
    “What about posting a lookout with the police in other jurisdictions?”
    “Already taken care of. I had my office teletype all known information about Slice and Bigga to every state law-enforcement agency as well as Immigration and Customs. If they come into contact with the law or try to leave the country, we’ll hear about it. But that’s a big if. It can take years for something like that to pan out. To find ’em fast, there’s no substitute for good old-fashioned shoe leather.”
    “I want to speak to the housekeeper and Benson’s wife right away,” Melanie said, “and his daughter the minute she’s able to.”
    “Write that down. Oh, and I’ll contact the lab to get copies of any test results. They already called me this morning. Apparently the crime-scene guys lifted a latent fingerprint from a can of kerosene left behind in Benson’s house. They can’t identify the print. It doesn’t belong to any of the Bensons, but it doesn’t match up with any violators in the FBI database either. If one of the perps left it, he has no criminal record.”
    “Was the print checked against our people?” she asked.
    “They don’t do that unless you ask for it special. It’s like you’re saying somebody screwed up the crime scene, mishandled evidence.”
    “They need to run that check. I like to know before the grand jury if the crime scene was contaminated. I can’t worry about hurting somebody’s feelings.” She made another note.
    “Okay. That’s your call.”
    “That’s all I can think of right now,” she said, shaking her hand to stop it from cramping.
    “That’s plenty for starters. Let me have that list so I can burn a couple copies, wouldja? I’m gonna get with Randall Walker and divide up the work.”
    She tore off the pages and handed them across the desk. As he stood up to go to the copy station, she stopped him.
    “Uh, can I ask you something about Randall?”
    “What about him?”
    “This investigation is gonna be pretty fast-paced. He’s definitely up for the job, right?”
    He sat back down, brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Um…well, Bernadette said Randall’s kind of burned out.”
    “Burned out? That nasty bitch. She has to bad-mouth everybody.”
    “So it isn’t true?”
    He sighed in frustration. “Look, normally I would never dignify bullshit like that with a response. But you seem like a nice person. I hate to see Bernadette poisoning your mind with lies before you even meet Randall Walker, who happens to be one of the finest detectives I’ve ever worked with.”
    “Okay, so he’s on his game? You’ll vouch for that?”
    “Maybe he has a little too much on his plate now, personal-wise, but he’s still a great detective.”
    So there
was
something to this. She looked Dan straight in the eye. “What’s the problem? Drinking? Marriage troubles?”
    “I don’t like to talk about my partner’s personal business.”
    “Just give me enough so I understand.”
    “Okay. But it stays in this room.”
    She nodded, feeling honored he would confide in her. “Cross my heart.”
    “Randall’s son died of a drug overdose about five years ago. His only kid. Randall’s okay, but his wife is a mess. Never got past it. She’s got a lot of problems, mental and physical. Diabetes, asthma, major depression. It really brings him down.”
    “That’s awful!”
    “Yeah. But seriously, Randall more than pulls his weight.”
    “Okay.” She stared into his eyes, trying to decide if he was telling her everything. He fidgeted under the intensity of her gaze.
    “And if for some reason he can’t pull his weight, I pull it for him.”
    “Okay. Now I get the picture.”
    He stood up again, shaking his head.
    “What?” she asked.
    “Nothing.” He broke into a