[Georgia 03] Fallen

ruefully, “Which is a very, very long time.”
    “You’ve worked cases against them?”
    There were fifty chairs in the room, but she sat down right beside him. “Ignatio Ortiz and Roger Ling didn’t just vault to the top. There are bodies they climbed over. Lots and lots of dead bodies. And the sad part is that they were human beings once. They were nice, normal people who went to church every Sunday and clocked into their jobs during the week.” Amanda shook her head again, and Will could tell that her words invoked memories she’d rather forget.
    Still, she told him, “You know the word underbelly refers to the part of society that’s never seen, but it also means the vulnerable part. The weak part. That’s what monsters like Roger Ling and Ignatio Ortiz prey on. Addiction. Greed. Poverty. Desperation. Once these guys figured out how to exploit these people, they never looked back. They cut their teeth doing carhops for dealers when they were twelve. They murdered before they were old enough to legally buy a drink in a bar. They’ve slit throats and beaten old women to death and done whatever it takes to get to the top and hold on to that power. So, when you ask me why I’m on a first-name basis with them, it’s because I know them. I know who they are. I have stared into the darkness of their souls. But I guarantee you it doesn’t go the other way. They don’t have a damn idea who I am, and I’ve spent my career keeping it that way.”
    Will was finished treading carefully. “They know Evelyn.”
    “Yes,” Amanda allowed. “I think they do.”
    He sat back in his chair. It was a stunning admission. He didn’t know how to respond. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—she didn’t give him the chance.
    She clasped her hands together. Sharing time was over. “Let’s talk about this cop who confronted Sara in the hospital.”
    Will was still trying to wrap his brain around what had just happened. For just a moment, he’d forgotten all about Sara.
    “Chuck Finn,” she prompted.
    Will leaned his head against the wall. The concrete block felt cold against his scalp. “He used to be a cop. You don’t lose that no matter how much heroin you shoot up. He’s tall. He’s probably lost a lot of weight from his habit. Sara wouldn’t have recognized him from his mugshot. I’m assuming he’s a smoker. Most junkies are.”
    “So, at the hospital: you think Chuck Finn discerned from Sara that Marcellus Estevez might live, so he sent Franklin Heeney in to kill him.”
    “Don’t you?”
    Amanda wasn’t quick with her response. He could tell what she’d said about Evelyn Mitchell still weighed heavily on her. “I don’t know what I think anymore, Will. And that’s the God’s honest truth.”
    She sounded tired. Her shoulders were slumped. There was a sort of detachment about her. He went back over their conversation, wondering what had finally made her admit that Evelyn Mitchell wasn’t squeaky clean. He had never in his life seen Amanda give up on anything. Part of him felt sorry for her, and another part of him realized that he might not ever have this chance again.
    He struck while her defenses were down. “Why didn’t they shoot you outside the warehouse?”
    “I’m a deputy director with the GBI. That’s a lot of heat.”
    “They’ve already kidnapped a decorated police officer. They shot at you inside the warehouse. They killed Castillo. Why didn’t they kill you?”
    “I don’t know, Will.” She rubbed her eyes with her fingers. “I think we must be caught in the middle of some kind of war.”
    Will stared at the Meth Project poster on the wall. A toothless woman with scabby skin stared back. He wondered if that was what the junkie had looked like, the woman who had told Sara that there was a guy laid out by the Dumpster. How long had it taken before Marcellus Estevez was dead and Franklin Heeney was struggling with Sara on the floor, threatening to cut open her face with a scalpel?
    Minutes. Maybe ten at the most.
    Will couldn’t help it. He put his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. “You should’ve told me.” He could hear a distant voice in his head screaming at him to shut up. But he couldn’t. “You had no right to keep that from me.”
    Amanda gave a heavy sigh. “Maybe I should have. Or maybe I was right to hold it back. If it’s the first one, I’m sorry. If it’s the second, then you can be mad at me later. I need you to talk this