Pyramid Deception by Austin S. Camacho

Ray’s hand settled on his shoulder for a moment.
    â€œYou take care of my little girl, Paco.”
    Hannibal nodded and hustled outside. He tossed his bag into the trunk and got into the driver’s seat without looking back. He didn’t want to know if Ray had followed him and saw Cindy in the car.
    â€œThat was quick,” Cindy said as he started the car.
    â€œNot as quick as I hoped.”
    â€œSo what now?” Cindy asked. “I still don’t see how we’re going to find the people who took Jason away.”
    â€œOur best hope is that Irene’s killers tried too hard and left some evidence of their crimes,” he said, pulling away from the curb. “They left quite the trail of breadcrumbs to lead detectives to the conclusions they wanted, but it’s damned difficult to make it perfect. So we pick at the clues and try to pull them apart. We found some things that didn’t look right at Jason’s house. And according to Rissik, left Jason’s car at the Alexandria train station. Let’s go see what might not look right there.”
    In the life of a private detective, things are seldom as simple as they should be. Hannibal reflected on that idea while he and Cindy wandered the Alexandria Union Station, the city’s historic train station. From the small parking area of the tiny way station, built just after 1900, they looked up at the Masonic Washington Monument at the Western end of Alexandria’s Old Town. It took less than a minute to ascertain that Jason’s silver Toyota Prius was not parked in the little lot. They explored the nearestrestaurant parking lot. They even walked the streets a block in each direction before accepting that it was nowhere in the area.
    Hannibal could not rule out the idea that Carlton, or even some members of the Fairfax County police, were part of the Irene Monroe conspiracy, but he didn’t see any good reason for them to lie about Jason’s car. He knew lots of way to try to find out what had happened but he always favored trying the easy things first. So, he let his eyes wander to the three people waiting on the benches outside the train station.
    The young guy at the far end of the nearest bench was only outside to get a smoke. Probably not there for very long. The Latin man on the middle bench had rough hands and wore working clothes. He was very likely illegal. He would not see anything and would not want to answer any questions. The older black woman at the far end wore mules over nylon knee highs that ended just below the hem of her black skirt. She was travelling with a shopping bag full of stuff. She was outside because there was nothing to look at inside. He waved to Cindy to follow and walked over to her.
    â€œExcuse me ma’am. Could you help us? We can’t seem to find our car.”
    â€œWell I didn’t take it.”
    Hannibal chuckled a little. “No, I’m sure you didn’t. My friend borrowed the car to drive to the train station and said he’d leave it parked in this lot. It’s not worth stealing, it’s a little thing, a silver Prius .”
    â€œThat little silver thing?” the woman asked. “Child, they towed it away almost an hour ago. You going to have to pay to get it back. You better get on your friend for that money.”
    â€œTowed it?” Hannibal looked shocked. “Oh no. How am I going to find it? Did you notice the name of the company?”
    â€œNope. But there was a police car here at the same time, and the cop was kind of directing them. Was your friend dealing drugs or something? I figured there must have been something important in the car.”
    Hannibal looked at Cindy in horror, thanked the woman, and rushed into the train station. Once inside his expression returned to its usual calm acceptance.
    â€œYou really got into character for that one,” Cindy said.
    â€œThat was only half faked. It sounds like the county towed