“Not now,” William replied. “Maybe in a few days. Leave me your card, and I’ll let you know when my client is ready to talk.”
As we rehearsed, I put my head back and closed my eyes just as William finished his scripted reply. I heard Detective Lawton let out an exasperated sigh. Since I wasn’t under arrest, there was really nothing he could do.
He pulled a card from his coat pocket and handed it to William.
“Don’t take too long. I won’t be the only one looking for answers.”
With that, he turned and left the hospital room. When the door closed behind him, my eyes sprung open and I propped myself up on my elbows.
“What does that mean?!” I asked. “Who else will be looking for answers?”
Chapter 12
The two brothers clinked their glasses together. Neither of them particularly enjoyed champagne, but the occasion seemed to call for it.
“The son of a bitch did it.”
“I told you.”
“I have to hand it to you… you were right, about everything. About Carlos, about the doc, about the bank, everything.”
“All that matters is Carlos is dead and we didn’t have to kill him. Now we don’t have to worry about retaliation.”
“Nope. That’s the doctor’s problem now. Although, I have to admit, I would have enjoyed putting that bullet in Carlos’s head.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Where is the doc now?”
“In the hospital. He’s no concern of ours.”
“How long do you give him?”
“If he survives the weekend, I’d be amazed.”
“Phase two?”
“Phase two,” and they both raised a glass.
Chapter 13
“Who’s gonna tell her?”
“I’m not telling her. You tell her.”
“Fuck that. You tell her!”
“Let’s shoot for it.”
“Fine. Ready?”
“Rock, paper, scissors... shoot!”
“Dammit.”
“Nice knowin’ ya.”
Raul stood and started walking toward the double doors that led to Christina’s office. Before he got halfway across the floor, her voice pierced the air.
“Cisco! Ven aca!” she shouted. Come here.
Raul turned around and smiled. “Looks like you get to tell her after all.”
Cisco stood, a concerned look plastered on his face. He slowly made his way to the office doors and knocked once before entering.
He gave Raul one last look as he closed the doors behind him.
She waited for him to walk over to her desk and take a seat. She stood up, walked around to the front, and sat on the edge of the desk to address Cisco.
“Carlos starts his rehab program on Monday. I want you and Raul to keep him company until then. See that my brother doesn’t get into any trouble, and make sure he stays off the coke. If anything happens to him before he gets to rehab, I’m going to hold you personally responsible. Is that clear?”
“Ummm…,” Cisco sputtered nervously.
Raul sat in the foyer just outside Christina’s office, waiting. He was drumming his fingers on the armrest of the small sofa, and tapping his foot nervously when he heard her ear-piercing scream. He jumped up from his seat, knowing full well what was coming next.
Seconds later, a gunshot and the sound of a body hitting the floor.
Nice knowing you, Cisco.
Chapter 14
Sara answered on the second ring. She was waiting to serve dinner and was beginning to wonder where I was. When I told her what happened, she freaked out. I wasn’t able to give her much detail, mainly because she kept interrupting me and wanted to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.
“Oh my god! I’m coming right now!” She hung up before I could protest.
With William making calls out in the hallway, I tried to take a short nap before she got here, but I was too wired. After fifteen minutes of tossing and turning, I gave up. My body was still shaking, my ears were still ringing, and I’d felt queasy since I’d arrived at the hospital. I don’t know what they gave me in the ambulance, but it wasn’t working. The nurses were nice enough to give me something stronger, for both the anxiety and the nausea, and I eagerly anticipated the moment the meds would kick in.
From the sounds of the TVs coming from nearby rooms, the shooting at the bank was all over the news. Even though the police were keeping my identity quiet for now, all the nurses on the floor seemed to know it was me. Between the cops streaming in and William shooing them out, the cat was out of the bag.
I heard whispers and hushed tones just outside my door, and every once in awhile, I’d see a face peeking through the small window.
“Think I should set up a press conference for the nurses?” William had joked.
“Not just yet,” I had replied.
“I don’t know. There are some pretty cute nurses out there.”
William was still single. He claimed it was because his work kept him so busy, but I think it was because he liked to keep his options open. He didn’t seem the type to be tied down by one woman. But he was right about one thing, he was always working. His typical clientele required his services at all hours of the day and night. Not exactly a schedule conducive to a normal home life.
He walked back into the hospital room and saw I was still awake.
“No luck?”
“No. My mind is racing and I can’t seem to stop shaking.”
“Give the drugs a little time to kick in. Then you’ll have no problem sleeping.”
“Here’s hoping,” I said.
William chortled.
“Why don’t you take off, William,” I suggested. “It’s getting late.”
He looked at his watch. “Umm, it’s seven-thirty.”
“Oh,” I said with an awkward laugh. “It feels a lot later than that. Well, whatever. You don’t need to babysit me. Sara will be here in a minute, anyway. I’ll be okay.”
“Tell you what… you’ve had a long day. I’ll head over to the bank and poke around a little bit. See what the cops are saying. The FBI is probably there by now too.”
“The FBI?!” I asked, and sat up taller in my bed.
“Of course. The banks are federally insured, so a crime against them is investigated on the federal level. With a shooting happening inside a bank, there’s no question the FBI will be on scene.”
“Oh, man,” I said as I fell back against my pillow, eyes closed.
“Simon, relax.” William put a hand on my arm, trying to reassure me. “You didn’t do anything wrong. No one is after you. They’re all just doing their jobs. Now let me do mine, and let the nurses do theirs. Trust the process. Stay here and relax, if you can. We’ll take it one step at a time. A week from now, you’ll be sitting around the dinner table with Sara and the boys, and this will all be a distant memory.”
I doubted that. I wouldn’t forget today for a very long time, probably ever.
“Okay,” I said with a sigh.
At that moment, Sara came bursting into the room. She rushed to my side and took my hand.
“Oh my god, Simon! Are you alright?! What happened?! Why are you in the hospital?!”
“I’m okay.” I wanted to explain, to introduce William, but she didn’t give me the chance.
“Are you hurt? What happened? Who is this?” she said, gesturing in William’s direction.
“Well, on that note…” William said, and began collecting his things.
“Sara, this is William Alter, my attorney. William this is Sara, my wife.”
“A pleasure,” William said, extending a hand.
“Attorney?” she asked, without taking his hand. She turned to me and said, “Why do you need an attorney? What’s happening? Ar
e you in trouble?”
“No, he’s not,” William said, retracting his hand as it became clear Sara had no intention of shaking it. “I’m just here to make sure everyone does their job and no one says anything they shouldn’t.”
He gave me a look when he said that last part. He offered Sara a reassuring smile, but I didn’t think she was buying it.
“Anyway, I’m off. I’ll check in with you later, Simon.”
“Thanks, William. I appreciate everything.”
William smiled again at Sara. “A pleasure meeting you, really.”
Before he got halfway through the open door, he turned to me, pointed a finger in my direction and said, “Remember, you speak to no one.”
“Got it,” I replied with a nod.
He turned and left. When the door closed behind him, Sara turned to me, gripped my hand a little tighter and said, “Oh my god, Simon! What happened? Tell me everything.”
Chapter 15
Special Agent Paxton Stamper made the hour-long drive from the FBI’s Miami field office to the bank in Boca in just under forty minutes. When he arrived on scene he flashed his badge, thrust a piece of paper at the closest cop, and immediately took over the investigation.
A few minutes later, he kneeled over the body of the victim, and examined the gunshot wounds that had been inflicted. After a long moment he said, “You’re telling me an optometrist did this?”
“Believe it or not.” Detective Lawton had returned from the hospital after it was made abundantly clear he would not be getting any information from Dr. Spero tonight.
“I’m leaning towards not at the moment,” Agent Stamper replied.
Lawton nodded. It was hard to imagine.
“From what distance?” Agent Stamper asked.
“That guy was standing on the desk over there, and the good doctor was crouched behind that table there.” Lawton turned and pointed to each spot as he spoke.
Kyle Lawton had been on the force for twenty-two years, seventeen of them as a detective with the Palm Beach Sheriff’s office. He’d made first-grade a few years after becoming a detective and was widely considered one of the best in the department. On the short ride back to the bank, he’d received a call from his captain. He was given strict instructions to cooperate with the FBI. “Whatever they need,” he’d said.
Great.
In the past hour, he’d been booted from the hospital by an attorney who represented scumbags and lowlifes, his investigation had been poached by the FBI, and his captain had ordered him to suck it up and like it. It wasn’t the first time, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.
Lawton had briefly considered applying for the FBI a few years ago, but decided against it. He was a cop, not a politician, and didn’t want to deal with the bureaucratic bullshit he’d witnessed on a regular basis. So here he was, once again playing second fiddle to the FBI, and he hated every minute of it.
“Looks to be about twenty to twenty-five feet,” Agent Stamper surmised. “How many shots did he fire?”
“We found three nine-millimeter shell casings near the doctor’s location.”
“He fired three shots and managed to land two, one to the chest and one to the head? While taking return fire and under tremendous stress? From twenty-plus feet away? An optometrist…?”
They were more statements than questions, like he was talking to himself.
“Hey, you there...,” he said to the closest police officer. “Hop up on that desk right there. No, that one there.” He pointed to the one the bank robber had stood on. “Okay, good. Just stay there.”
Agent Stamper walked over to the table where Dr. Spero had crouched and took position behind it. He knelt down, leaned against the edge of the table, and mimed holding a weapon in his hands. He pointed the imaginary weapon up and in the direction of the officer standing on the desk and assessed the shot.
“The headshot was an impressive one. Either the optometrist got extremely lucky or he knew what the hell he was doing.”
Detective Lawton just watched and listened.
“Tell me about the victim,” agent Stamper said.
“He came in spraying the place with bullets. He fired shots all over, but mainly into the ceiling and the walls. His weapon is over there. He dropped it when he was hit the second time,” Detective Lawton said.
“Ya think?” Agent Stamper replied sarcastically.
“We counted thirteen .40 caliber shells, and the slide is back on his weapon. He must have run out of ammo during his exchange with the doctor.”
“Hmmm,” mumbled Agent Stamper.
“What?” Lawton inquired.
“Nothing.” He stood and rubbed his chin. “Get me a copy of the surveillance video. I want every camera, all angles.”
“You got it.”
“Did we get names and contact information from every witness?”
No, we didn’t, Lawton thought, but said, “Yes.”
“I want to interview every one of them.”
Knock yourself out.
The lawyer was right. As far as Detective Lawton was concerned, this was an open and shut case. Some asshole decided to shoot up a bank, and someone who was clearly more skilled with a gun put his lights out. No investigation necessary. Give the guy a medal and call it a day.
Agent Stamper gestured for the officer to get down from the desk, and walked slowly around the room.
“Do we have an ID on the victim?” he asked as he surveyed the scene.
“He didn’t have one on him, but we ran his prints through the database and it came back as one Carlos Escalante.”
Stamper stopped in his tracks and turned to look directly at Detective Lawton.
“Say that again...?”
“Carlos Escalante.”
Stamper went pale and his eyes opened wide.
“Shit! Where is the doctor?!”
“He’s at the hospital, just a few miles from here. Why?”
“Come with me!”
Agent Stamper raced out the door, Detective Lawton close on his heels.
Chapter 16
“Where the hell are we going?!” Detective Lawton clung tightly to the handle on the passenger door as Agent Stamper weaved through crowded streets, screeching the tires at every turn.
“Carlos Escalante. That’s what you said.”
“Yeah? So?”
“Carlos Escalante is the younger brother of Christina Escalante, the head of the largest crime family in Miami. Some call them the Cuban Mafia. They’re into everything from gambling to drug smuggling to extortion and murder. I’ve worked a number of cases where the Escalante family were the prime suspects, but every case fell apart before they even began. There’s never enough proof to merit an arrest warrant, let alone prosecution. Witnesses disappear, evidence vanishes, judges are coerced… Nothing ever sticks to them. They’re untouchable.”
“And…?”
“And, the second Christina finds out her brother is dead, she’ll be out for blood. This optometrist, this Doctor….?”
“Spero,” Lawton finished.
“Spero. As soon as Christina finds out where Dr. Spero is, he’s as good as dead. The Escalantes are ruthless killers. They’ll kill him, his family, and anyone that gets in their way.”
“Jesus,” Lawton said.
“Yeah. Get on the horn and call for backup. Have two police units meet us at the hospital right now. Tell them we’re five minutes out. And send two more units to their home.”
“Do you really think she’ll go after him this quickly? Is she that impulsive?”
Stamper shot a look at Detective Lawton out of the corner of his eye.
“Christina once shot a guy in the middle of the street because he rear-ended her Mercedes at a traffic light. Yeah, I think she’ll get to him as soon as she possibly can.”
>
“My god. How did she get away with that? There must have been witnesses.”
“There were. But at the preliminary hearing, Christina’s attorney presented a dozen of their own witnesses who testified that she was on a yacht fifty miles offshore at the time of the shooting. And the one witness who actually saw what happened never showed up in court to testify. No one has seen or heard from him since.”
“I’ll make the call.”
“Tell them to hurry.”
They sped across dark streets, running lights and taking hard turns, barely slowing down. As they were pulling into the hospital parking lot, two black and whites sped in just ahead of them, lights flashing. They all screeched to a halt in front of the emergency room entry and jumped out.
They raced inside, hoping they weren’t already too late.
Chapter 17
I press the trigger and the bullet slowly emerges from the gun. It inches its way through the air in painfully slow motion. Finally it reaches its target. The bullet strikes his right eye and blasts straight through to the brain cavity. The impact causes a bone chilling scream, followed by a horrific eruption of blood.
I awake with a jolt, covered in sweat, my heart pounding.
The dream was so real, I wasn’t sure if it really happened or if I’d imagined the whole thing. But one look around, and I knew better.
The hospital room was dark, and it was quiet out on the floor. The only sounds were the soft beeps of machines monitoring vital signs in neighboring rooms. The clock on the wall read 7:49 p.m. Sara was curled up in a chair at the corner of the bed. She could fall asleep anywhere. I envied her that. I told her to go home and be with the kids, but she insisted on staying with me. I’d never seen her so worried. Her parents went over to the house to be with the boys, not knowing why or what was happening.
We both hoped to be going home tonight, or tomorrow at the latest, but I knew William would never go for it. He wanted me tucked away, quarantined from the police, the FBI, the media, and anyone else waiting to ask questions. For how long, I wasn’t sure. But I knew one day wouldn’t be enough.
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