Miguel snickered. “Come on out. All you’ll see is a bunch of car parts and old tires.”
“I won’t see the occasional auto-transport truck taking nicely rebuilt automobiles to the port of Miami?”
Miguel twisted his fingers together. “What are you getting at?”
“I’ve done some preliminary investigating of body shops on Seminole Trail, Miguel. And what I’ve uncovered points to the fact that Bobby Ray’s doesn’t exist. What does operate out there in the boonies might be a chop shop. I think Bobby’s got a gang of car thieves stealing vehicles and bringing them to an undisclosed location to be reconfigured into automobiles that are hot sellers in South America.”
Miguel’s face flushed, and Edward knew he was right. Basically, it was a lucky guess. The location was perfect for a chop shop. An old run-down warehouse in an area with no neighbors around. No paperwork had ever been filed under the official business name. And the best clue was Edward’s own background in stealing cars. Sometimes a checkered past helped to identify another person running afoul of the law. Definitely something crooked was going on at Seminole Trail.
“I don’t know anything about that,” Miguel said. “I’m just the guy who fixes the cars and paints them after the work is done.”
Edward gave him a serious warning look. “If you’re involved in a chop shop, Miguel, you’re going back to jail, and this time you won’t get parole.”
Miguel remained silent for a long while. Finally, he said, “If you’re so sure about this, why are you telling me? Why not just send the cops out there and raid the place?”
Edward sighed. “Oh, the cops are going to Seminole Trail to have a look around, believe me. But I’d like to save you from yourself, Miguel. I happen to like your family. I’d like to help your mother sleep at night.” He stared hard into Miguel’s eyes.
“Tell me what’s going on out there and what you’re so afraid of, and I’ll do my best to help you. If you don’t, then Bobby Ray and everyone who works for him is likely going down.”
Miguel licked his lips. “How can you help me?”
“First you have to help me. I need information. If someone is threatening you, I have to know it. Then I can protect you.”
“Can you keep me out of jail?”
“I’m not a miracle worker. There will still be consequences for what you’ve done. But I can guarantee you’ll be safe if you have to return to jail, though.”
Minutes ticked by while Edward waited. He now knew that what he’d suspected was true. Miguel was involved with some bad people. They were threatening him, and he didn’t have a way out. All the signs were there. Miguel’s nervousness, his body language, his lack of focus. Edward hoped the man would take the offer he’d handed to him.
“There’s one more thing, Miguel.”
Miguel looked at him. His hand in his lap trembled. “What’s that?”
“You should allow Monica to adopt Emilio.”
Miguel’s eyes widened. “You’re asking me to give up my kid?”
“You took that kid and then left him on his own at night. You haven’t tried to contact him or contributed a cent to his welfare for five years. What’s scarier is that you’ll most likely have to go back to prison soon. So, I’m asking you to think of Emilio first, his needs, and make Monica’s custody of your son legal. In spite of everything, I think you know that Emilio is in a good place with Monica and your mother. He’s happy. Can you make him happy? Can you care for him, given how this may play out?”
The air in Edward’s office grew tense. Edward knew he was asking Miguel to give up the last card in his hand. Emilio was the leverage Miguel could use to influence his mother and sister. But Edward was willing to bet that saving himself was more important to Miguel than anything else.
“These are really bad men, Eddie,” Miguel said. “Can you keep them away from me?”
“I can and I will.”
Miguel Cortez looked defeated. His hands dangled between his knees. His shoulders slumped. “Okay. What do you want to know?”
“Okay to both, Miguel?” Edward asked. “You’ll give me information and you’ll sign papers so Monica can adopt Emilio?”
“I’ll still get to see him sometimes?”
“Monica seems fair to me. I don’t think she wants to keep you from your son. It’s time you trusted someone, Miguel, and your sister would be a good place to start.” Miguel nodded but didn’t speak.
* * *
“I WISH I had better news, Edward,” Monica said on the phone late Tuesday night. “But once I found out that Ronald had been killed, I knew we had no avenue left for us. I realize you’re disappointed, but there’s not much I can do.”
“Disappointed doesn’t begin to cover how I feel,” he said.
He’d never sounded so disillusioned before, and Monica couldn’t help feeling that his bitter emotions were aimed directly at her. She’d failed him again and they were at the end of their investigation.
“How are things going at work?” she asked, trying to change the subject to something current in his life.
“If it weren’t for the fact that my father died a short while ago, I might never have believed I’d left my desk. But as it is, I’m having trouble concentrating.”
She almost told him that it would get easier, but then she remembered folks saying the same thing to her when her father died. In truth, the pain became less intense, but missing her dad had never become easier.
Edward’s simple statement stung. They’d only just met and become close, and yet now he sounded as if nothing in his life had changed. His pain was still great. His determination to uncover the truth wavering. In Monica’s life, everything was different, certainly better, until now. Edward was bitter. She couldn’t blame him for feeling that way. She just wished she could have helped him. She wished he had something positive in his life to think about.
“Oh, there is one thing,” he said.
Hopeful, she asked, “What? Tell me.”
“I spoke to your brother this morning.”
“And was Mama right? Is he in trouble?”
“Yeah. He’s involved in illegal activity at a chop shop. Apparently the owner is coming down hard on him.”
“Were you able to make him see sense?” Monica hoped Miguel would change his ways, but that didn’t mean she wanted him back in Sweet Pine.
“I think so.” Edward explained that Miguel was going to help the police in exchange for a lighter sentence when arrests were made. “He’s not in the clear, Monica,” Edward said. “But I will do all I can for him.”
“I appreciate that, Edward. And Mama will certainly think your halo is shining more brightly.”
“Oh, and Monica...” he said, and then stopped.
“What?”
He cleared his throat. “Nothing. I’ll tell you later.”
“Okay. Talk to you tomorrow?”
“Sure. And if I forgot to say it, thanks for contacting the police in San Diego.”
“I wish it had turned out differently,” she said.
“So do I.”
They disconnected, and Monica went into the kitchen to help her mother with dinner cleanup.
“How is Edward?” Rosa asked.
“He’s fine but disappointed that I didn’t have promising news for him about what happened around his father’s death.”
“Can’t you keep looking for more people, ’Nica? Edward is our good friend now. Friends help each other. He’s going to talk to Miguel for me.”
“I know he is, Mama. In fact, he’s already spoken to Miguel. I have news for you. We’ll talk after Emilio has gone to bed.”
“You seem sad, too, chica. Are things not well between you and Edward?”
Truthfully, Monica didn’t know. Something had been uncomfortable during tonight’s phone call. Nothing person
al had been said. No sentiments of missing each other. No promises of getting together again soon. The phone call had almost seemed like a discussion between two colleagues. But to her mother, Monica said, “It’s okay, Mama. Distance can make things difficult sometimes.”
* * *
EDWARD THOUGHT ABOUT why he hadn’t mentioned the adoption to Monica. He had started to, but something stopped him. He knew she would be thrilled to learn that Miguel had agreed to allow Emilio to finally be hers in terms of the law, but he’d kept the news to himself. Had he been too cautious in not mentioning the arrangements he’d made with Miguel? Did he worry about disappointing her if Miguel changed his mind? Did he want to wait until the papers on Miguel’s end were finalized before telling her? All of that was part of his decision to stay silent for now.
Though the real reason he’d kept the news to himself was that he wanted to see her face when he told her. He imagined her bright eyes lighting up, her smile glowing with happiness. Telling her over the phone was not how he wanted to give her the news. And besides, distance made things difficult sometimes. Had she felt the same thing during tonight’s conversation?
His phone rang once more before he went to bed. He recognized the number. Brooke.
“Hello, Brooke. How are you?”
“Fine. We’re all well, thanks. Cammie and I were hoping you could come to Charleston. Maybe this weekend? Catch a flight up on Friday and stay until Sunday. It’d be great for you to meet everyone since you’re family now. What do you think?”
“Now isn’t such a good time,” he said. “I’ve just gotten back to work, and I have a backlog of cases to catch up on.”
“That’s understandable. You’ve had so much to deal with recently,” she said. “If you do decide to visit, I’ve got some friends I’d like you to meet.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said. He appreciated Brooke’s acknowledging his reluctance to come to Charleston right now. Although, maybe a change of scenery would help alleviate the bitterness he was experiencing at another dead end with respect to the judge’s death. He hoped Brooke wasn’t referring to any single girlfriends when she offered introductions. His thoughts were on one woman only and he wanted to see her again. If he’d made Monica feel as though he blamed her for the dead end with the case, he needed to change that.
He cleared the air with his sister with one question. “You’re not thinking of introducing me to a potential girlfriend, are you?”
“What would be the harm?” she asked and smothered a chuckle. “Unless you and Monica have grown closer? You’re the best-looking brother I’ve ever had, and in Charleston, you’d be quite the catch.”
He laughed, too. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
His sister obviously hadn’t picked up on the fact that he and Monica were already close. He would have to make that clear very soon. Because he hoped Monica was his future.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MONICA AND EDWARD continued to phone each other the rest of the week, but since Edward had decided to go to Charleston, he couldn’t tell Monica that he would see her over the weekend. He had carefully thought about Brooke’s invitation and could find no good reason to postpone a trip to meet the rest of his family. Besides, Edward needed a diversion, and connecting with his sisters and nieces and nephews seemed a welcome and necessary break.
He dialed Monica’s number on Friday morning as he was preparing to leave for the airport. He hoped she would understand his reason for the trip, and he hoped he could convince her that he would be looking forward to seeing her the following weekend, when he would return to the marina and check with A.J. about how things were going.
Unfortunately, Edward connected with Monica’s voice mail. In as few words as possible, he told her about the trip to see his sisters. “I’ll definitely be down next weekend to see you and Emilio. In fact, I can’t wait to see you. Maybe we can take Emilio snorkeling if it’s not raining. Would you like that? I’ll have to look in on A.J., but it shouldn’t take up much of my time...” Edward halted in midsentence when his breath caught in his chest. “I’ve just thought of something, Monica. I’ll call you back.”
It was a wild thought and probably wouldn’t lead to anything, but when A.J. became part of his conversation with Monica, Edward couldn’t ignore a possible theory that had taken root in his brain. If it’s not raining...
Monica said she had talked to A.J. soon after his father’s death. A.J. had said he was not in the bait house that night—he only stayed in the shed on rainy nights. Had he been lying? Did he stay in the shed more often than he’d indicated? What had the weather been like on the night of the death? Had A.J seen something, after all? Edward called the weather station in Monroe County and asked what conditions had been like on that fateful night.
When he disconnected, he called the airline and canceled his flight to Charleston. Then he called Brooke to tell her something important had come up. He’d have to reschedule.
* * *
FRIDAY MORNING WAS busy at the sheriff’s office. Monica had taken several calls, but none more important than the one from Officer Criswell in San Diego. She was speaking to him when she had to ignore a call from Edward.
“I have some interesting news, Detective Cortez,” Criswell said. “I had some spare time this week and I followed up on that case we talked about.”
“The case about Ronald Blaine?”
“Yes. I pulled the file and looked over the paperwork. Remember I told you Blaine had no family except for his mother in the nursing home?”
“Yes, of course, I remember.”
“Well, I cross-referenced Blaine’s name with birth certificates, and it turns out Blaine did have a relative, a son born almost thirty years ago.”
“A son?” Monica was stunned. Her hand holding the phone receiver began to shake. “Then Blaine also may have had a wife and—”
“No. He never married the mother, a woman named Karen McGinnis. But McGinnis listed Blaine as the father on the kid’s birth certificate. Consequently, the records have cross-matched.”
Monica’s heart started to beat rapidly. A connection to the judge existed. Maybe Judge Smith never knew about a grandson, but if Criswell was correct, the grandson definitely existed. “Were you able to locate Karen McGinnis?”
“I was. Talked to her late yesterday. She still lives in the area. Found out some details that might help you. She stayed in contact with Blaine for a few years. Blaine and his son had a sketchy relationship. They knew of each other’s existence but weren’t close. And when Blaine had a streak of bad luck and ended up on the street, that was the end of his contact with the kid, who at this point was in high school.”
“Did McGinnis tell you the grandson’s name?”
“Sure did. His name is Andrew Jefferson McGinnis. She said he lived with her until a year or so ago and then he took off for Florida. As far as she knows he still lives there in the Keys somewhere. Since your jurisdiction is the Keys, I thought that could be a pretty interesting connection.”
Monica had been taking notes as fast as Criswell talked. She wrote the name Andrew Jefferson McGinnis on a piece of notepaper. While she was still on the phone with Criswell, the capital letters in McGinnis’s name stood out from the other letters. A.J. Andrew Jefferson.
“I hope this helps you, Detective,” Criswell said. “Like I told you, I was just fishing around for anything that might prove significant...”
“You have helped more than you can know, Officer. I can’t thank you enough.”
“In this business we never know when some little detail might make a difference,” he said. “I remember one case when—”
“I’ve got to go, Officer. We’ll talk again sometime soon. Thanks so much.”
She hung up and immediately called Edward.
“Monica, I’m so glad you called,” he said. “I’ve just found out something about
the night my father died. I’d like to follow up on it.”
Breathless, she said, “Edward, I heard your message. Don’t go to Charleston.”
“I’m not. I need to tell you—”
“I want to interview A.J.,” she said. “I know I talked to him before, but I just got news that changes everything.”
“That’s what I was going to tell you,” he said. “Remember when I told you that A.J. stays in the bait house on rainy nights? I don’t know why I didn’t realize the importance of that. I called the weather service in the Keys. Monica, it had rained that night, only about an hour or so after I went up to bed, but enough so that A.J. might have been there the night my father died. He might have seen something. He might not have remembered it when he talked to you. Maybe he’d had too much to drink. Maybe his memory was foggy. But if he was there, then he very likely must have seen something or heard something.”
Monica took a deep breath. “Edward, listen to me. A.J. is more than an employee of the marina.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I just heard from the officer in San Diego. He discovered a record that proves A.J. is your father’s grandson. Ronald Blaine was his father.”
Silence. “Are you there, Edward? The cop in San Diego is sending me verification right now. I probably already have it in my email. This is serious, Edward. I’m going to the marina now to talk to A.J.”
“Hang on, Monica. I should be there in a few hours.”
“Oh, Edward,” Monica murmured. “This could prove you were right all along.”
“I know I was right about one thing, Monica. You are the best detective I could have had on my team. In fact, you’re the best thing in my life.”
A Family Man At Last Page 18