The Nephew

by Claude Bouchard

  “Try me, old man,” Alonso replied. “You’re coming with me.”

  “I-if I do that, I’m dead,” said Fernando.

  “If you don’t, you’re dead,” Alonso countered, grabbing hold of Fernando’s jacket. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

  “Maybe we can work something out,” Fernando suggested as Alonso pulled him along.

  Alonso shrugged. “Maybe. Let’s go talk in private.” He gestured toward the fake electrician’s utility van he was driving for the day. “Come on.”

  * * * *

  Upon arriving at the restaurant, Carlos had requested a free table by a window, wishing to know in advance when Fernando got there. Keeping his eyes peeled on the parking lot, he suddenly noticed Fernando climbing out of a black Explorer a few rows of cars away. Though he had aged, his longish hair grayer, his frame thinner, he remained easily recognizable. He walked behind a handful of vehicles parked to the right of his then turned into the lane leading to the restaurant. As Carlos watched, another man, younger, rapidly made his way toward Fernando from behind. Zeroing in on the man, Carlos noticed him reaching into his coat to grip something and Carlos immediately thought, ‘gun’.

  With growing concern, he watched as the man called out and Fernando spun around, obviously recognizing the newcomer. A short exchange ensued before the man grasped Fernando’s jacket and started pulling him back. Sliding out of his seat, Carlos made his way to the door, happy he had declined to order anything while he waited. He stepped outside, peering toward the two men in the distance while making a beeline to his borrowed vehicle. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do but he knew he had to get closer to the two men.

  Into the Rav4, he pulled out of his parking space and drove away from the restaurant, heading to the lane where he had seen the two men. He turned onto it and stopped as saw them a hundred feet away, standing behind a utility van. Still gripping Fernando’s jean jacket with one hand, the man opened the van’s rear doors with the other before shoving Fernando into the back. Carlos watched for a moment while the man remained standing behind the van as he addressed his prisoner within. Acting on instinct, Carlos released the brake and stepped on the accelerator.

  * * * *

  “Turn around and get up on your knees,” Alonso ordered.

  “Why?” asked Fernando, not pleased with the concept of turning his back on the man.

  “Wanna be sure you ain’t got a gun to pop me with,” Alonso replied.

  “I don’t do guns, Al,” said Fernando. “You know that. Hell, I don’t do knives.”

  “Maybe you changed since you disappeared,” said Alonso. “Do it.”

  Fernando rolled onto his knees and straightened up as Alonso started patting him down.

  “Okay, sit down,” said Alonso, satisfied Fernando posed no danger. He waited until Fernando was facing him again then asked, “So, what were you thinking when you said we could work something out?”

  “I don’t know,” Fernando replied. “Maybe I could pay you something, make it worth your while to forget you saw me.”

  Alonso nodded and grinned. “You mean give me a cut on what you stole?” The grin disappeared as he added, “Gabe and Dani will probably give me more than what you took them for just for bringing you back.”

  “Jesus, Al, have a heart,” Fernando pleaded as he shifted his position.

  “Watch what you’re doing,” Alonso warned, pulling his gun out and pointing it at Fernando, confident the van concealed him sufficiently.

  “I’m not doing –” Fernando had time to say before a red Rav4 slammed into Alonso, causing him to disappear from view.

  “Holy shit,” Fernando exclaimed as the Rav4 backed out of view then reappeared a few feet from the van.

  “Get in,” Carlos yelled through the open passenger window.

  Scrambling out of the van, Fernando glanced to his right to see Alonso sprawled motionless on the pavement, his gun still clutched in his hand.

  “Christ, did you kill him?” asked Fernando, opening the passenger door.

  “Get in, damn it,” Carlos bellowed.

  Fernando slipped into the vehicle which started moving before he had closed the door.

  “You just ran him down,” said Fernando, clearly in shock.

  “I know what I did,” Carlos snapped back, veering left past the McDonald’s then right onto Bradley Avenue.

  “Did anybody see you?” asked Fernando.

  “I don’t think so,” Carlos replied. “I didn’t see anyone outside close by. Maybe some people inside McDonald’s.”

  “My truck’s back there,” Fernando whined.

  “Screw your truck,” said Carlos. “You can pick it up later.”

  “But where are we going?” asked Fernando.

  “Damned if I know,” Carlos retorted. “Right now, I just want to get the hell out of here. Now, shut up and let me think.”

  “Show some respect, boy,” said Fernando, offended. “I am your father.”

  Carlos glanced at Fernando for a second and said, “Shut the fuck up or I’ll pull over and beat the crap out of you.”

  They rode on in silence.

  * * * *

  Sheraton Centre, Toronto, Ontario, 1:47 p.m.

  Leslie raised an eyebrow as she looked at the screen of her phone. “It’s Karen, Carlos’ friend,” she announced before answering the call. “Hi, Karen.”

  “Hi, Leslie,” said Karen, her tone hushed. “I heard from Carlos.”

  “You did?” said Leslie. “I’m with my colleagues. Can I put you on speaker?”

  “Sure, go ahead,” Karen agreed.

  “Done,” said Leslie. “Go ahead.”

  “Hello, everyone,” said Karen. “Yeah, so Carlos called me a few minutes ago and I’m really worried about him.”

  “What wrong?” asked Leslie. “What did he say?”

  “He told me he hit someone with my car,” said Karen. “He just wanted to let me know in case the police contacted me and he told me to tell them he had my car if they did.”

  “A hit and run?” Leslie exclaimed.

  “That’s what I understood,” Karen confirmed.

  “Damn it,” Chris muttered. “Hi, Karen, Chris here. Did he tell you what happened?”

  “All he told me was he ran down someone to protect Fernando,” Karen replied. “I asked for more but, besides telling me the car had no damage, he just repeated I should tell the cops he had my car if they contact me.”

  “So he was with Fernando?” asked Leslie.

  “He didn’t specify but it seems so,” said Karen.

  “Did he tell you where?” asked Chris.

  “Yes, London,” Karen replied. “That’s all I know. Like I said, I’m worried.”

  “So are we,” said Chris, “But this may help us find him. Anything else?”

  “One more thing,” said Karen. “I have the number he called from. He didn’t give it to me but it showed on my phone.”

  She recited the number and ended the call after promising to let them know if Carlos or the police contacted her.

  “Stupid kid’s going to wind up in jail,” said Chris once the call was over. “Doesn’t even seem like it was an accident.”

  “I’ll make some calls to see what I can find out,” said Jonathan before heading into the other room.

  “I’ll see if anything’s been reported on the news,” Dave suggested, opening his laptop.

  “Les, can you look into that number Karen gave us?” asked Chris.

  “Already on it,” Leslie replied, busy at the keyboard.

  “Seems Carlos found Fernando so he must have found his number,” said Chris. “I’ll go through that damned file again.”

  * * * *

  Ingersoll, Ontario, 1:47 p.m.

  “You think that was smart?” asked Fernando.

  Carlos took a sip of his beer and gazed at his father. “What exactly are you referring to?”

  “Calling that girl and telling her what happene
d,” Fernando replied. “You confessed to a hit and run. For all we know, Alonso’s dead now. You could end up in prison, boy.”

  They fell silent as the waitress arrived with their pizza and served them each a slice.

  “First of all, don’t call me boy,” said Carlos once she had left. “Secondly, you’re a fine one to talk. Who the hell is running for his life for stealing dope and cash from a bunch of killers, Mr. Brilliant?”

  “Thought you didn’t know what I did,” said Fernando. “Least, that’s what you told me, and nice try to change the subject.”

  “She knows I have her car,” said Carlos. “I just warned her the cops might call. It doesn’t change anything.”

  “Except they might come looking for you,” Fernando argued.

  “They might do that anyway,” said Carlos. “So, how much did you take them for?”

  “How’s that your business?” Fernando demanded.

  “I’m trying to get and idea what mom’s life was worth,” Carlos snapped. “How much? Ten thousand? Twenty?”

  “Give me more credit than that,” Fernando scoffed.

  “She’s fucking dead, you bastard,” Carlos hissed. “How much?”

  Fernando sighed. “About a hundred grand, and I never would have thought they’d grab your mother. Tore me up when I learned it. Got me a hell of a hangover to show for it.”

  “Don’t expect my sympathy,” said Carlos. “Why’d you do it?”

  “Drowning my sorrow,” said Fernando. “I never stopped loving your mother.”

  “I didn’t mean your drinking,” Carlos retorted. “Why did you rip off the gang?”

  “I’m sixty-two years old,” Fernando replied. “Got tired of being treated like a dumb-ass errand boy just because I don’t want to kill nobody. Got this far with no major trouble with the law so I figured maybe it was time to retire and decided to collect my pension fund.”

  Carlos shook his head in disbelief. “Did you actually think this through before doing it? Didn’t it cross your mind they would come after you?”

  “That’s why I’m laying low for now,” said Fernando. “Coming out to meet you wasn’t the smartest move but, hell, I wanted to see you, probably for the last time and you did deserve an explanation for what I did. I really am sorry for what happened to Donna, son. I never thought this would put her or you in danger.”

  Carlos shrugged as his eyes grew teary. “Can’t change anything now. I’ll just have to deal with it.”

  “Now I’m wondering if they’ll go after you,” said Fernando with concern. “I don’t want that.”

  “There again, it’s a little too late,” Carlos replied. “I’ve already thought about it. My best bet is to get the hell away from Toronto and get a fresh start.”

  “You mean quit your job?” asked Fernando. “And what about school?”

  “Do you have any better suggestions?” Carlos demanded. “I don’t want to be constantly looking over my shoulder, worried someone’s after me.”

  “Damn it all,” Fernando muttered. “Maybe I should just call Dani and give him everything back.”

  “You still have everything?” asked Carlos. “You didn’t sell anything?”

  Fernando shook his head. “Word would have got out if I sold anything that quick. It’s a small neighbourhood so I need to let some time pass before approaching potential customers.”

  “I’m surprised you stayed in the area,” Carlos admitted.

  “I didn’t want to be travelling with a stash of coke,” Fernando explained. “Also, I know people I can sell it to here, not so much if I head out of the province.” He shook his head and added, “What a mess. I should have never done it.”

  “Do you think Dani would let this go if you gave it all back?” asked Carlos.

  “I think maybe he’d leave you alone,” said Fernando. “He’d still want me to pay for what I did.”

  “Then how would you get it to him?” Carlos persisted. “I hope you’re not thinking I’d bring it back for you.”

  “Of course not,” said Fernando. “I could leave it somewhere safe and tell him where it is.”

  “Maybe one of those mini-warehouse places,” Carlos suggested, nodding. “Where is it now?”

  Fernando hesitated. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I’m trying to help fix the crap you made,” Carlos retorted. “Maybe you should just go ahead with your damned plans and never mind about anyone else. That’s what you’ve done so far.”

  “Aw, don’t get like that,” Fernando muttered in frustration.

  “I just asked a damned question,” said Carlos. “What’s the matter? You don’t trust me? You scared I’m going to rip you off? I saved your damned life two hours ago. Just never mind and figure out your shit yourself. I’ve had it.”

  “It’s in my damned truck,” Fernando snapped.

  Carlos eyes widened in shock. “Are you serious? You have a hundred grand sitting in your truck?”

  “That’s why I didn’t want to leave it back there,” said Fernando, glancing about to make sure no one in the near vacant restaurant was within earshot.

  “Sorry but hanging around after I hit that guy wasn’t an option,” said Carlos. “Couldn’t you think of somewhere else to hide it?”

  “Except for today, the truck is parked right outside where I’m staying,” Fernando explained. “It’s a very quiet area and I have a good alarm system on it. Also, everything is hidden in secret compartments I had installed in the side panels. They don’t even show.”

  “At least there’s that,” said Carlos. “Still, we don’t want to leave your truck there too long. I’m just not sure I want to drive back to that exact spot too soon. There might still be some cops around.”

  “You can drop me off nearby,” Fernando suggested. “I can walk the rest of the way.”

  “We’ll do that,” Carlos agreed then gestured to their hardly eaten pizza. “Let’s just take our time and finish lunch.” He picked up his empty beer mug and added, “I’ll have another one of these. You sure you don’t want one? Might help the hangover.”

  “What the hell,” Fernando agreed, looking up to locate their waitress.

  “I’ll just go get rid of the one I drank,” said Carlos, standing from the table. “Back in a minute.”

  * * * *

  Sheraton Centre, Toronto, Ontario, 2:09 p.m.

  “Carlos called Karen from Ingersoll,” Leslie announced. “How close is that to London?”

  “Half an hour or so,” said Chris. “Makes sense. Got his butt away from his crime scene.”

  “He also made a call this morning,” Leslie continued. “He was in Cambridge and the call went to somewhere in Blenheim.”

  “Fernando?” Dave suggested.

  “If yes, we now have his number,” Leslie replied.

  “I have some news about what happened in London,” said Jonathan as he returned from the other room, “And you’re going to love this. First off, the cops haven’t identified the vehicle involved. Small red SUV, maybe a Honda, maybe a Toyota, according to a couple of witnesses who actually saw it happen. Neither could really describe the driver though both agreed it was a male. Here’s where it gets interesting.

  “The victim is Alonso Amaya, a known member of MS-13. He was still unconscious when police arrived. No word on his exact injuries barring multiple fractures but it seems he should survive. The man had an unregistered gun in his hand and the cops found an impressive quantity of cocaine and a bunch of cash in the van he had been driving.”

  “That is interesting,” said Chris with a smile, “And nobody knows who ran him over?”

  “Not so far,” Jonathan replied. “The two witnesses saw Amaya shoving an older man into the van in question. Next thing they knew, the SUV sent him flying, the older man climbed in and the SUV disappeared.”

  “Is Carlos helping Fernando?” asked Leslie just as Chris phone chirped, signalling an incoming text message.

  They watched his expression chan
ge from curiosity to astonishment as he read the text before looking up them and saying, “You’re not going to believe what I just read.”

  * * * *

  London, Ontario, 3:44 p.m.

  “We’re getting close,” Fernando warned as they headed north on Wellington Road.

  “I’m curious,” Carlos replied. “I just want to have a look as we drive by. I’ll turn on Bradley and drop you off at the McDonald’s to get to your truck.”

  Fernando shrugged. “If that’s what you want to do.”

  “I doubt they have roadblocks up looking for me,” said Carlos. “It was almost three hours ago.”

  He slowed a little as they drove by Jack Astor’s and they both scanned the parking lot, noting the absence of any police activity.

  “I guess you were right,” said Fernando as they turned on Bradley.

  “I figured I’d be in no more danger here than anywhere else,” said Carlos. “If someone got the plate number, the cops will track me down sooner or later.”

  “Let’s hope nobody did,” said Fernando as they pulled up by the McDonald’s. “So, whatcha gonna do now?”

  “Lay low for a couple of days,” Carlos replied. “Check with Karen to see if the cops do contact her. Past that, it depends on what you decide to do and how Dani reacts. I’m not convinced he’ll leave me alone even if you do return everything.”

  “You’re probably right about that,” said Fernando. He hesitated then added, “Also, losing that hundred grand would kinda screw up my plans. I need something to live on, at least for a while.”

  Carlos nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I can look after myself one way or the other.”

  “I hate to put you in a bind, son,” said Fernando.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Carlos. “We can’t change what’s done so let’s just move on.”

  “Are we gonna talk again?” asked Fernando, “Or see each other?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” Carlos replied. “Let’s see how things play out.”