The Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 7)

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  “When Julio came to me for help, and told me what he was ordered to do, I still didn’t believe it. I figured he needed attention. I told him that it was his own damned problem now. But he said that this was serious. And if he didn’t kill Maria, then the gang would rape and kill our sisters and our mom. I mean, how the hell was I supposed to deal with that? I couldn’t just pretend that it wasn’t happening.”

  I saw the fire burning in his eyes as he spoke, and I began to understand a little of what he’d gone through. He’d been faced with an impossible decision.

  “Whose idea was it?” I asked. “To do it at the restaurant?”

  “Julio started following Maria, to try and figure out the best way to get her alone. He’s the one who decided that the restaurant was our best chance. No surveillance cameras. No street lights. The back parking lot is for employees only, and that’s where Maria would go on her frequent cigarette breaks. All I had to do was convince you to go to the restaurant with me. While we were there, I got a text from Julio, letting me know that she was outside. So I picked up a steak knife from the table, slipped it under my shirt, and headed to the men’s room. There’s a window in there, big enough for me to crawl through. It goes out to the back parking lot.”

  “So, you went out the window with your steak knife?”

  “Yeah. I had no idea how easy it would be. There she was, puffing away on her cigarette, talking on her cell phone. She never saw me coming. I was so hyped up on adrenaline, I don’t even remember doing it, you know? I just … it was like … watching someone else stab her. It wasn’t me. She didn’t make a sound, either. I really expected her to scream or do something. But then she collapsed on the ground. There I was, with a steak knife in my hand. I looked around for Julio because he was supposed to be watching. He was supposed to take the knife and bring it to his leader as proof. But he must’ve run away at some point, because I was alone in that parking lot.

  “Man, did I start to panic. At first, I just wanted to run. Then I thought about you, sitting in the restaurant, waiting for me to come back. I didn’t think. I just threw the knife into the dumpster and got back into the men’s room. I washed my hands and face, and flushed the paper towels down the toilet. I checked my clothes, but I didn’t see blood anywhere, so I went back to the table. And anyway, you know the rest of the story.”

  “Not really,” I said. “How did you know that I went to the police the next morning?”

  “After we left the restaurant, you got weird. I thought maybe you were freaked out about the situation at the restaurant. But then the next morning, you couldn’t look me in the eye. You said you had to leave early for some appointment, but I knew you were lying. So I followed you.”

  I glared at him. “You followed me?”

  “Yeah. When I saw you walk into the police station, I didn’t know what you had on me. Or that you had found any real hard proof. Either way, I couldn’t take any chances. I packed a bag and got the hell out of Miami on the first bus I could find.”

  “Why did you bring me to the restaurant? Was it because you needed my alibi in case you were ever implicated in her murder?”

  “I guess the thought had crossed my mind.” He reached out for me. “I’m sorry, Abbs.”

  I turned away, unable to look at his puppy dog eyes for one more second. “Do you have any idea how you’ve ruined my life?”

  “I know,” he said in a whisper.

  “You said you took the bus. Where did you go?”

  He shrugged. “I spent a few days in Jacksonville, then kept moving north from there. I had less than fifty bucks in my pocket.”

  “Where did you stay? On the streets?”

  “Here and there. Sleeping under bridges. Doing odd jobs for a little cash. Going from town to town every few weeks.”

  “There’ve been rumors that you were staying with an old girlfriend,” I said. “Is that true?”

  He looked at me with wide eyes. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Is it true?”

  “Hell, no. God, that would be stupid. I couldn’t stay with anyone I knew. It would be too obvious for the police to find me.”

  “How long have you been in Bridgeport?”

  “About a week. I found a cabin about twenty miles from here.”

  I couldn’t believe that Marco was sitting in my apartment. For over a year, I’d fantasized about all the nasty things I’d say to him. But now, all I could feel was immense relief that he wasn’t dead. Did that mean I still loved him?

  “You need to turn yourself in,” I said. “At least you’ll be in police custody. Then you can testify that it was the gang leader who ordered the hit on Maria. You’ll go to prison, but maybe the jury will feel sorry for you after you explain.”

  “No matter what I do, I’m screwed,” he said. “I’m royally screwed.”

  I went to sit next to him on the floor and we sat in silence for a few minutes, heads bowed. Finally, he took my hand. “You’re right. I know that I have to end this. Right now, I don’t even care about spending the rest of my life behind bars. I don’t want you to suffer anymore.”

  “So, it’s settled then? You’re gonna turn yourself in?”

  “I know this is selfish of me,” he said, still holding my hand, “but I want a few days with you. Just you and me alone.”

  “I don’t think ...”

  “Please? Give me two days to prepare myself, then I promise I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I need this, Abbs.”

  Part of me, a very small part, wanted it, too. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, the truth was I missed him. I missed his voice, his touch, his corny jokes, his laugh, and … his body.

  “We can’t stay here,” I said. “Do you have a car?”

  “I have a truck, it’s parked across the street.”

  “Did anybody see you come up here to the apartment?”

  “I don’t think so. Your landlord left about an hour ago.”

  “You know who my landlord is?”

  He bit his lip. “Well, yeah. I’ve been following you for a few days. I wanted to make sure that you didn’t have a new boyfriend.”

  “A new boyfriend? Are you friggin serious? You and I were engaged to be married. How the hell could I just hook up with some other guy?”

  “So, you have been waiting for me to come for you?”

  I turned away from him, feeling too vulnerable. He’d be able to see it in my eyes. That I had been waiting and hoping he’d find me. But in my dreams, he’d tell me that he never killed the girl. That it was some horrible misunderstanding. Now that he had confessed, I didn’t know what to think or how to feel.

  “We can get in my truck right now and go to the cabin. We’ll have complete privacy.”

  “And what are we going to do for two days out in the middle of nowhere?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “I can think of a few things.”

  I slapped his knee. “I should’ve known you were looking to get laid.”

  “I dream about you every night, Abbs. And, you know, it’s been over a year now ...”

  I felt my face get red. I had to admit, our chemistry was still alive and kicking. A swirl of emotions churned in my stomach. Damn it, I still wanted him, even after all the crap that had gone down.

  “Just two days,” Marco said with his soft, come-hither voice, “please.”

  “OK. But you realize that I can get in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out. They can track me with my cell phone.”

  “Keep your cell phone turned off and leave it here in your apartment. I doubt anyone is going to get concerned after only two days. You don’t have to check in with anyone, do you?”

  “No,” I said. “Do you have a cell phone?”

  “No. There’s nobody I can call, anyway. I haven’t been in touch with my family, nobody. You’re the first and only person I can trust right now.”

  “That’s pretty scary,” I said, “considering I’m the one who went to the police. How can you
say you trust me?”

  “Because we’re both in a heap of trouble. The Vice Kings have a hit out on you and me, too. We have only each other to rely on.”

  Marco didn’t seem to understand that I was being protected. He was a wanted fugitive. We were not exactly in the same boat, but I didn’t mention that.

  “Come on,” he said, “pack a bag. We need to get to the cabin before it gets dark. There’s no electricity out there.”

  “No electricity?”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “it’s just like camping in the woods, you’ll see. What do you have for food?”

  “I don’t have much,” I said. “Some peanut butter and crackers. There might be some leftover pizza in the fridge. While you get the food together, I’m gonna jump in the shower.”

  I went into my bedroom and gathered a few items of clothing, toothbrush, toothpaste, and stuffed them all in my backpack. When I checked my cell phone, I noticed that Sarah had called two times and left a voice message. I was about to listen to the message when Marco came in the bedroom and grabbed the phone out of my hand.

  “Who are you calling? I told you, we need to shut this thing off.”

  “Sorry.”

  He removed the SIM card from the phone and tossed both on my bed. Then he guided me toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna join you in the shower, if you don’t mind.”

  * * *

  We were on the road by 7:00 p.m.

  Marco kept the speed limit in check as he took back roads heading south, as if he knew these roads like the back of his hand.

  Signs of towns whizzed past me in a blur for about twenty minutes and the longer we drove, the more rural the area became. “What town are we in now?” I asked. “Are we still in New Hampshire?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “This is Northwood. Not much exciting goes on around here unless you like to hunt.”

  We passed an abandoned gas station, then Marco took a hard right turn onto a dirt road. “Where’s the closest house?” I asked.

  “No real houses for miles in both directions,” he said. “Just hunting cabins. Since hunting season is months away, this place is deserted. Don’t have to worry about neighbors.”

  When Marco parked in front of the cabin, he took my hand reassuringly. “I know you’re having doubts about this, Abbs, but the place is kind of romantic in a rustic way. You’ll see.”

  I exited the truck with my backpack slung over my shoulder, and the first thing I noticed was the smell. And it didn’t take long for me to see why. “Is that an outhouse? That’s disgusting.”

  The outhouse looked like it had overflowed, with brown muck oozing out from underneath the door. I almost gagged.

  Marco cringed. “Yeah, sorry. Whoever owns this property hasn’t taken care of that and I’m not about to try, either. If you have to go, just drop trou behind the cabin, nobody is around to see you.”

  I was beginning to think I had made a huge mistake.

  Marco opened the door of the cabin, and I followed him inside. “There’s a kerosene lamp over there, plus a few flashlights scattered around. In another hour, this place will be pitch black so you want to keep a flashlight nearby. There are a few in the bedroom, too.”

  “Do you have any idea who owns this place?” I asked, letting my eyes slowly roam the cabin, taking in the sparse furnishings. Just a few rusty looking lawn chairs and a cardboard box for a table.

  “No idea. I found this place by accident. It was pretty clear nobody had been here for a while. I had to get a few things to make it bearable.”

  Marco lit the kerosene lamp, and I went in search of the bedroom. I was pleased to find that the bed actually had clean-looking sheets and pillowcases. “Is this where you’ve been sleeping for the past week?”

  “Yeah. That’s an airbed I picked up at Goodwill for a few bucks. It had a hole, but I patched it up with some duct tape. Sheets are used, but clean.” He cleared his throat. “No running water, but I have a cooler of bottled waters in the back of the pickup. Want one?”

  “Yeah, I’m parched.”

  As he went outside to get the water, I tried out the bed. Not too bad, really. When he came back inside, he handed me a bottle and we sat on the bed together.

  I guzzled the water. It occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten anything. Not that I was hungry in the least. The smell of the outhouse was hard to ignore, even from inside the cabin

  “Marco, are you scared? To go back to Miami and face the music?”

  He put on a brave face. “A little, I guess. But I can’t live like this anymore.”

  “Why didn’t you go and turn yourself in sooner?”

  “Because I needed to find you, Abbs. I needed to tell you what happened, from my point of view. I knew if you could look into my eyes, you’d see that I’m not the monster. It’s that gang, the Vice Kings, they are the monsters. Not me.”

  I raised my hand to touch his cheek. “I know you’re not a monster. But you realize that things can’t ever go back to normal.”

  He kissed my hand and held it to his cheek for a long time. “Why don’t you lie down for a bit and relax,” he finally said. “I’ll make a fire. The smoke will help keep the mosquitoes from eating us alive. They’re vicious out here.”

  I was so exhausted, I could have slept on a bed of nails. “OK. Maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a few minutes. But don’t let me sleep too long.”

  Chapter 13

  Sarah

  Molly wasn’t safe. I could feel it in my gut.

  I jumped in my car and headed over to her apartment, praying to God that she would be there.

  I parked my car a block down the street and sat there as I tried Molly’s cell again with no luck.

  It was almost 6:55, and there was no way I could initially tell if she was home, since she didn’t own a vehicle. There didn’t appear to be any lights on inside the second floor apartment. All the shades were drawn.

  So many questions were rattling around in my head as I sat in my car, keeping an eye on the apartment building. Did Marco have a vehicle? If he did, he wouldn’t have gone through the proper channels of registering it. More than likely, he had stolen a vehicle or borrowed one from a friend. Unless, he’s been traveling on foot and using public transportation. Maybe even hitchhiking.

  I exited my car and crossed the street, then ascended the outside stairs to her apartment. No doorbell so I knocked and waited. After thirty seconds, I knocked again. Maybe she was taking a nap, or listening to music with headphones, or in the shower.

  Or, she just wasn’t home.

  I went back to my car and sat there. I made the decision to wait for another half an hour, and if she didn’t call me back or show up, I’d figure out something else.

  In the meantime, I read a few online articles about the murder of Maria Consuello. I wanted to get a better idea of what actually went down in Miami on June thirteenth, over a year ago.

  The seventeen-year-old girl worked at her parents’ Mexican restaurant, Taco Grande, located in Coral Gables. According to one of Maria’s co-workers, she was a high school dropout and only worked a few days a week. She was often drunk when she showed up to work, if she showed up at all, and sometimes stole bottles of liquor from the bar.

  However, a different article touted Maria as a responsible, bright young woman who was being primed to manage the family business someday. The picture they used of her in most of the media coverage showed a baby-faced girl with pimples on her forehead. Looking very innocent and, well, young.

  In yet another article, what appeared to be a more recent picture showed a different story. Maria looked strung out. In one hand she held a bottle of Jack Daniels, the other hand was giving the finger to the person taking her photo.

  Several of Maria’s friends had been interviewed. They all basically admitted that Maria had been sleeping around with various gang members and had multiple abortions since the age of fourteen. The medical examiner confirmed this during his autopsy, also stating that Maria ha
d been fifteen weeks pregnant when she died.

  I couldn’t find much information on the Vice Kings, but what I did find made my skin crawl. The police believed that the notorious gang was responsible for over twenty deaths in the past six years, though they didn’t have enough proof to make any arrests. It was unknown how many members were in the Vice Kings because the number was always changing. According to a gang expert the press interviewed, new gang members must go through initiation. Usually, the gang leader ordered the newcomer to perform some act of violence to prove his loyalty.

  I was able to find an article that transcribed the confession of Julio Diaz. He told the police that he had been ordered to kill Maria Consuello by the gang leader. The deed had to be done within two days, and he needed to present the murder weapon with Maria’s blood. If Julio refused, he would be killed and then Julio’s sisters and mother would be raped and killed by the gang members. Since Julio had never killed anyone before, he asked for his brother’s help.

  Looking up from my phone, I saw movement across the street. Two figures emerged from Molly’s second story apartment and went down the stairs.

  Molly’s hair was wet, and she was carrying her backpack over her shoulder, which seemed rather full. When I saw the guy walking beside her, I was 99 percent sure it was him. Marco Diaz.

  Molly didn’t seem frightened or alarmed. In fact, they were holding hands as they crossed the street and got into an old pickup parked on the side of the road. Marco slid into the driver’s seat while she got into the passenger’s side.

  Where were they going, and why did Molly seem so willing to go with him? Unless, Molly had been lying to me the whole time. But why would she do that? No, I got the sense that Marco’s appearance had not been expected.