They got all the long lost brother, hugging and back-clapping crap out of the way and Chico offered him a drink. Jackson wasn't looking too bad, considering.

'You're looking good—in the circumstances,' Chico said.

Jackson shrugged and gave him a feral grin. 'Not much else to do inside apart from work out in the gym. That, and the never ending worry about whether today's the day it's your turn to get stabbed in the showers tends to keep the weight off.'

Chico nodded sympathetically. Despite the long years he'd spent on the wrong side of the law, he'd never spent a single night in prison. Nor did he plan to.

'Are you looking for work?'

Jackson shook his head. 'No.' His slate blue eyes flicked into focus. 'There's some things I want to get done first.'

Chico nodded again and waited for him to continue.

'I need to find out who set me up.'

As Chico had thought, no prizes for guessing what he was after. You couldn't blame him.

'Do you have any ideas about that?'

Jackson gave a slight tilt of the head. 'I haven't thought about much else every day for two years—and I'm still no further forward.'

'You think it was somebody on our side?'

Jackson shrugged again. 'No idea.'

'Because you're not the only one to give it some thought. I know you went to prison, but I wasn't exactly jumping for joy at what happened.' He touched his chest. 'It cost me a lot of money.'

Jackson gave a single chop of a laugh but Chico couldn't see any amusement in his eyes.

'I'm sure it did. Lucky there's plenty more where it came from, eh?' Jackson got up and started to pace up and down. 'Unfortunately I don't have an extra two years of my life lying around somewhere.'

Chico held up his hands in an acknowledgement of the minor loss he'd suffered compared to Jackson's.

'I know, I know. It's only money. By the way, if you need any, just let me know.'

Jackson had walked round behind Chico on his lap around the room and had stopped directly behind him. Chico felt a slight frisson of fear, but didn't want to spin round in his chair. He had nothing to worry about. Surely Jackson didn't blame him.

'So what was the outcome of your . . . investigations?' Jackson asked.

'Nada. Diddly Squat.' Chico turned to face him now, saw he was leaning against the wall. 'I don't believe anybody on our side had anything to do with it.'

Jackson smiled to himself at the use of our. There hadn't been much of that sort of thing at the time. 'That means it must have been someone from their side.'

Chico gave a small flick of the hand. 'That's the logical conclusion.'

Jackson pushed himself off the wall and sat back down in front of the desk. He just can't sit still, Chico thought to himself. He supposed two years in a six by eight prison cell might do that to you. But he'd been jumpy before, unlike his brother.

'So who should I talk to? Alvarez?'

That was the last thing Chico wanted. After the recent embarrassment of sending Dixie to question Alvarez about the current cock-up—and the information that resulted from that meeting—the very last thing he wanted to do was send Dixie's brother to question him about another cock-up two years ago. But it made him think and wonder about the accuracy of what Alvarez had told him. If Dixie really was a cop like Alvarez had said, how likely would it be that he would let his own brother go to jail for two years. He would have pulled him out, surely.

Chico looked at Jackson's hand and the strange tattoo he had on the web of flesh between his thumb and forefinger. Dixie had one just like it. And it was on the basis of rumors about a couple of guys with identical tattoos on their hands that Alvarez was pointing the finger at Dixie. Chico could feel his blood pressure rising just thinking about it. Somebody was going to pay. He had to find out the truth. But, in the meantime, he didn't want Jackson rocking the boat even more with Alvarez.

'No, I don't think that's a good idea,' he said, shaking his head emphatically.

Jackson crossed his arms, tucked his hands under his armpits. 'Why not?' he said, his tone querulous.

Chico gave an irritated head shake. He didn't need to get into this now. 'You don't need to know at the moment.'

Jackson's face reddened and leaned across the desk and pointed his finger at the middle of Chico's face. Normally Chico wouldn't have tolerated such disrespect, but the guy had just spent two years inside, so he'd cut him a little slack. Not only that, but Juan and José were downstairs somewhere, probably jerking each other off to porno movies or whatever else they did to pass the time.

'It would need to be a very special reason if it's going to stop me from finding out what happened.'

Chico stood up and walked around the desk and rested his hand on Jackson's shoulder. The gesture reminded him that he'd done the exact same thing when Dixie was sitting in the chair a few days earlier. He could feel the anger rising up inside him, a tight knot in his stomach, making him want to lash out. He gave Jackson's shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

'It's not going to stop you finding out. Trust me on this. Talk to his guy Miguel instead. He knows more than Alvarez anyway.'

Jackson didn't look convinced but he didn't push it. He stood up to go. He was a good six inches taller than Chico, just like Dixie. The sooner he was out of here, the better, as far as Chico was concerned. He didn't want to be reminded of Dixie every time he turned around.

'Let me know if there's anything you need,' Chico said.

Jackson's face said he'd already told him what he wanted, and Chico had disappointed him, but he'd take some cash and a gun instead. And he'd like to borrow a car for a few days until he got something sorted out. Chico told him to speak to Juan on the way out.

***

'Did you give him what he wanted?' Chico said to Juan after Jackson had left.

Juan nodded. 'Yeah, he took some cash and a gun. Did he say why he wants the gun?'

Chico smiled at him, muttering idiot through his teeth. 'I would think he's going to use it to shoot the bastard who snitched on him, wouldn't you?'

Juan nodded as if the thought had never crossed his mind.

'I thought he wanted to borrow a car as well,' Chico said.

'Yeah, that too. Just for a couple of days he said.'

Chico thought for a second. Alvarez had told him about the tracking device the previous day and given him the number to call, but then they'd caught Ellie and she'd told them where she'd moved the money, making the information redundant. Even so, the trackers seemed like a good idea and he'd sent one of the guys to buy a few. The horse might already have bolted this time, but he wouldn't be caught out again.

'Did you put one of those—'

'Don't worry. There's a GPS tracker hidden inside. He'll never find it even if he thinks to look.'

Chico smiled. At least he was going to get something out of it, although he didn't like to think about what Jackson would do when he realized he'd led Chico to his brother. 'Good. I'm sure he'll meet up with Dixie soon. They're pretty close. The more people we've got looking for him, the better.'

'He doesn't look like him, does he?' Juan said. 'But there's this strange feeling that reminds you of him. It's uncanny.'

Chico didn't need reminding.

'What about this investigator guy?' Chico said, picking Evan's business card up off the table.

Juan shrugged. 'You still want to talk to him? We've got Ellie and Jackson on the case already.'

'Why not? It can't do any harm. He's a professional, after all.'

Juan nodded. 'Okay, we'll drop by his office. See if we have more luck there.'