Not Forgotten

by George Lee Miller

  “He didn’t set you up. He said all you needed was a little encouragement.”

  “He sent Araceli Luna to me?”

  “And paid your fee. It was the only way to get Marcus to stop the blackmail.”

  “Tell me what happened,” I said.

  The color drained from his cheeks. His eyes darted toward the window. “Marcus is on his way. He knows you’re here,” he whispered.

  “Make it quick and don’t lie to me again.”

  “We met on the River Walk that night,” Danny said, barely above a whisper. “I tried to convince her to have the baby. She wouldn’t do it. I reached for her hand. She pulled away from me and fell back into the water.”

  “The water’s a foot deep. What did you do?” I asked.

  “I jumped in after her, but she must have hit her head. She wasn’t breathing. I panicked.”

  “Did you call 911?” Kelly asked.

  “No. I called Marcus. She was dead. There was nothing I could do for her.”

  “What did Marcus do?” I asked.

  “He said to leave the body and go home. He would take care of it.”

  “Then he decided he wanted money.”

  “That’s right. As long as Grandpa kept paying, I would stay out of prison. Marcus was going to bleed our family for everything we had. He already has Allison Oil.”

  “I was supposed to kill Marcus and get him off your back,” I said.

  “Why didn’t you?” He was angry. “It’d all be over.”

  “You didn’t think I’d figure it out?”

  He chewed his bottom lip and stared at me.

  The front door rattled followed by a hard, insistent knock.

  “It’s him. It’s Marcus. What’re you gonna do?” Danny asked. He looked like a boy who’d lost his mom in the supermarket. He didn’t seem to have any remorse for killing Marissa.

  “I’m taking you and Marcus in,” I said.

  “It… It was an accident,” he stuttered. “I… I didn’t do anything.”

  “That’s right. You did nothing. You should have called 911. You could have tried CPR. You could have screamed for help. Instead, you called your lawyer. You let Marissa and your unborn child die without trying to save them.”

  Danny gave me that lost look that he had probably used to get him out of tough situations his whole life. It wouldn’t work this time. I had zero sympathy for him.

  The door rattled again. Another knock. Then we heard Marcus’s voice.

  “Danny? Open the door.” His voice was calm and conversational.

  “It’s too late,” Danny whispered.

  “I found your friend on the road, Nick,” Marcus continued. “Biggest man I’ve ever seen in person. He’s going to need a doctor. He lost a lot of blood. He didn’t want to tell me about you at first.” Marcus’s voice was cocky like he knew he held the high hand.

  “That son of a bitch,” I said under my breath.

  “I have Sylvia too, Nick,” Marcus taunted. “Too bad she’s mixed up in this.”

  I caught my breath and rested my free hand on the table. Despite having seen her with Marcus, I still had feelings for her.

  “It would be a shame if anything were to happen to her.”

  I stayed quiet and listened to running footsteps in the gravel. The guards were circling the house.

  “I knew you’d go after Danny, Nick. You’re smart. Danny will do whatever you tell him to do. I can’t let that happen. When I’m finished, the Allison fortune will belong to me.” I heard him take a step back from the door. “Let Danny come out,” he said. “He and I have some business to attend to. Drop your weapons at the door and follow him. I’ll give you one minute. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee Skeeter or Sylvia will survive.”

  “Nick, do what he says,” came Sylvia’s desperate voice from outside.

  I moved to the edge of the window and peeked through the ancient red-and-white checkered curtains. She wore form-fitting jeans and a white button-down shirt that was open to the middle of her chest. Her hair was curled and fell to her shoulders. She looked like she had every time I ever saw her. Flawless. Her radiant beauty turned the scene into a movie set. A movie that ended with the impossibly beautiful damsel in distress being rescued by the hero. I studied her face. There was tension in her eyes. Was it fear? From thirty yards away, I couldn’t tell. Did she think I was her hero, or did she know she was bait?

  “Nick,” Kelly whispered. “Be careful.”

  I glanced at the faces of the security guards. All eyes were on Sylvia. The look was very familiar. I’d seen it everywhere Sylvia and I went together. It was the way I’d looked at her when the door at the rear of the law school classroom opened and Sylvia appeared on the top step. Every eye was on her and she knew it.

  “We’re coming out,” I yelled to Marcus. I took Kelly’s Ka-Bar from the sheath on her belt and cut the flex cuffs from Danny’s wrists.

  “What are you doing?” Kelly asked with concern on her face.

  I didn’t have time to explain. “Stay here. Wait for the commotion to start. Go out the back. Marcus doesn’t know you’re here. Thank Skeeter for that. Retrace our steps back to your pickup.” I didn’t wait for her response. I turned back to Danny. “Get up.” He seemed relieved to be taking orders. “We’re going to walk outside.”

  “Time’s up,” Marcus yelled.

  “Then what?” Kelly asked. She hadn’t budged.

  “If I don’t make it, haul ass. You have the DNA report. Give it to the FBI. They’ll review the Luna case and find Marcus and Danny at the center of it.”

  “No,” she said. Her voice was strong and clear. “We can both go out the back.”

  “We’d never make it.”

  She held my gaze but didn’t say anything.

  I knew she understood what needed to be done. “Give me your Glock,” I said.

  Kelly didn’t hesitate. She slipped her 9mm from her holster and handed it to me. I jacked a round into the chamber.

  “You’ve got fifteen rounds,” I said to Danny and jammed it behind his belt. “This is your chance to man up.” I tucked my pistol behind my back and hopefully out of sight. My gut instinct told me he had been waiting his whole life for someone to hand him a weapon and tell him to man up. I pointed the M24 at Danny. “You’re going to get me close to Marcus. When I grab him, pull your pistol and hold it on the guards to the left,” I told him. “You’re going to stand up to Marcus and make up for not standing up for Marissa and your unborn child.”

  He was scared, but he was going to do it. He stuffed his lip with tobacco courage and nodded.

  I opened the door, and we stepped out on the porch together.

  “Tell them to drop their weapons, Marcus,” I said.

  “You’re not gonna shoot Danny,” he said, smiling from behind Sylvia.

  “Why not?” I said. “I’m already wanted for killing Detective Peterson. What have I got to lose?” I stayed on the porch, using Danny as a shield. The guards kept their weapons up and ready. I counted thirteen. There were three behind the Lexus and five on each side of Marcus and Sylvia. “Danny’s your golden goose. I kill him, no more money.”

  “You won’t kill him because you want him to stand trial. Sylvia told me about you. You know she likes to gossip. You hate to see a rich kid get away with murder. We’re a lot alike. I wanted to see him pay,” Marcus said.

  “It was an accident,” Danny yelled, his voice stronger than I expected. “I trusted you.”

  “Shut up, Danny,” Marcus shot back. He was full of himself and confident he held all the cards.

  The thugs who chased us out of Fredericksburg were sitting in the back seat of the Super Duty with Skeeter between them. Skeeter’s eyes were open. His lip was swollen and bleeding.

  “I’m taking you both in,” I said.

  “I admire your tenacity,” Marcus said. “But I don’t like to lose. Turn Danny over or I’ll shoot Sylvi
a right here in front of you.” He drew a short-barrel pistol from his coat.

  I didn’t expect him to be armed, not with fifteen guards surrounding him. It changed everything. I tried to catch Danny’s eye, but he was focused on the guards.

  “Nick, please do what he says,” Sylvia begged. A tear rolled down her cheek, glistening in the morning sun. I wondered how many men had fallen for that.

  “Okay,” I said quickly. “Don’t hurt her.” I touched Danny’s shoulder. “Stay left,” I whispered under my breath. “Change of plan.” I pushed him off the porch toward the five guards on the left and hoped he understood.

  The two nearest guards stepped toward me. I handed over my rifle. I was counting on their lack of training. I raised my hands, palm out, level with my waist. They didn’t bother to frisk me.

  Marcus lowered his snub-nosed pistol. Sylvia’s huge brown eyes seemed calm and confident as ever. Skeeter was right. She had picked Marcus because he was the new alpha male in the pack. He was going to be governor. I had been the bodyguard to the lady in waiting, keeping annoying law school students and horny professors from bothering her for dates. I watched her walk toward me. There wasn’t a mark on her. No sign of a horrible kidnapping ordeal. Her clothes were fresh and clean, and I caught a whiff of her favorite Chanel perfume. I was a dusty, sweaty mess from running through the brush and getting four hours of sleep in a Volkswagen Jetta. She was ready for her closeup, from her designer jeans to her gleaming white teeth and loosely curled raven hair. Her white button-down shirt was open just enough to keep Marcus’s thugs hoping it would reveal even more of her olive skin. They relaxed their weapons. For once her beauty worked in my favor.

  On my left, I saw Danny reach for the Glock behind his back. I took another step forward and positioned myself at least four steps from Marcus. I was counting on his snub-nosed pistol not being accurate outside of ten yards. Sylvia stopped in front of me and put a slender hand on my shoulder. She arched her neck, extending her ripe lips toward mine.

  “I’m sorry, Nick,” she said, as if she were dismissing a longtime employee whose services were no longer required. I let her pull my neck down to her level and kiss me one last time.

  “It was a pleasure,” I said.

  “Did you really think she was in your league?” Marcus said and raised the short-barrel pistol.

  Sylvia stepped to the side, giving Marcus a clear shot.

  I dropped into a crouch, pulled my pistol, and fired. Marcus fired too, a fraction of second later. My .45 slug found Marcus’s Botox-enhanced brow. The back of his head disappeared. Blood sprayed the Lexus. Sylvia screamed as if she’d been hit. I felt a pinch on my shoulder. I looked down and saw blood expanding into my sweat-soaked T-shirt.

  Kelly burst through the front door and leveled her shotgun at the guards.

  “Drop your weapons. Do it now.” Kelly’s voice was clear and commanding. She got their attention.

  Two thumps came from the pickup. Then I heard Skeeter’s low rumbling voice.

  “You heard her,” he said. He was leaning against the passenger door of the Super Duty, holding two pistols. The two that had been guarding him were on the ground. Out Cold.

  Sylvia was still screaming. She had rushed to Marcus’s side and touched his dead body in disbelief. His blood covered her hands and white shirt and soaked into her designer jeans.

  Danny had the Glock out. He backed toward me with the pistol pointed at the five guards to the left. They seemed to recover and realize they had us outnumbered.

  The one nearest to me swung the tip of his rifle in my direction.

  I fired. My shot hit him in the chest. I was shooting for body mass. No time to aim. A volley of shots passed my head, close enough to feel the displacement of air.

  I kept firing, each bullet knocking another guard to the ground. Kelly’s shotgun exploded three times in rapid succession. I turned on my knee and focused on the next target.

  I saw Danny out of the corner of my eye level off with the Glock on a guard to my left and pull the trigger. Blood sprayed my face and arms. Another black uniform raised his rifle. I saw the barrel spit fire. I pulled the trigger again and again until the magazine was empty.

  I yanked the .38 from my ankle holster. A black uniform sprinted from behind the house. His AR-15 swung toward me. Kelly’s shotgun exploded. Another guard appeared behind her on the porch. I fired.

  The gunfire abruptly stopped. Sylvia’s screams turned to ragged sobs. It was all over in less than thirty seconds.

  I took an uneasy step. My legs turned to jelly. Stars swam in my vision. I saw more movement. I brought the .38 up. It was Kelly. Her face splattered with blood.

  “Nick,” she said. “Are you all right?”

  I couldn’t answer. The .38 slipped from my fingers and hit the ground. I tumbled forward. Kelly caught my arm. My vision went black.

  I saw Grandpa’s hangar light and stepped toward it.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Iwoke to a rhythmic mechanical beeping. My arms and legs felt heavy, as if tied down. They wouldn’t obey my commands. My chest throbbed. A hot poker jammed into my left breast. Slowly, I realized the beeping coincided with my own heartbeat. My first thought was of the military hospital in Germany. Then Sylvia flashed through my memory, and fragments of the last forty-eight hours played out in my head. Could Grandpa really be dead? Had I imagined running cross-country to escape an SAPD helicopter?

  My head was caught in a vise. I tried to fast forward to my final memory. Marcus had a snub-nosed pistol. That was a surprise. Had I shot him, or had I imagined that too? Sylvia had kissed me and stepped aside to give him a clear shot. I remember dropping to a crouch and firing, the taste of her still on my lips. I had pulled the .38, my weapon of last resort. I fell to the ground, and Kelly was beside me. Was she a figment of my imagination as well? I remembered another name. Marissa Luna. She was a young woman found floating in the San Antonio River. I was after her killer. Had I found him?

  •••

  The next thing I smelled was the faint hint of lavender soap mixed with fresh flowers. I felt another presence in the room. The steady beep continued behind me. My heart was still beating. I tried my arms and legs. This time they worked. The hot poker in my chest had cooled. The events of the last week flashed through my head. From the moment I met Patrick Allison in the convention center, I had been working for him. He had used me to take out his political opponent and save his family fortune. There is more than one way to support a candidate, he had said. Now, I knew what he meant. He was supporting Marcus while he set me up to be an October surprise, to rid him of the blackmail threat and save his grandson from prison.

  “Nick? Nick, can you hear me?” It was a female voice.

  I opened my eyes. Kelly stood holding my hand, squeezing it gently. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her shirt was different. It was short-sleeved, button-down, and clean. Red scratches covered her forearms as proof of our run through the brush. It hadn’t been a dream.

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  My mouth was dry, and my lips were stuck together. I glanced at the nightstand, saw a cup with a straw. Kelly held it to my lips. The cool liquid tasted better than I remembered water ever tasting.

  “What happened?” I croaked out the words.

  Kelly pressed the power switch on the mechanical bed and raised my head. Skeeter was there with his arm wrapped in a sling. He had a cut over his eye that was healing, and his smile was crooked from a swollen lip.

  “We’re twins,” he said, pointing to his bandage.

  Kelly said I had come in and out over the last three days. She said I’d yelled about being trapped. It wasn’t pleasant. She only knew the half of it. Maybe someday I would tell her the full story. She explained that Danny had called his family’s helicopter to take me to San Antonio.

  “Sylvia told the police Marcus kidnapped her,” Kelly said. “She told them he threatened to kill her, and
that she was terrified you would be harmed.”

  “She insisted on seein’ you,” Skeeter said. “But Kelly told her to, ah… take a hike.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “And Danny?”

  “I made sure Danny told his story to Detective Ochoa,” Kelly explained. “I worked with her to piece together all the documents and evidence. The DA charged him with involuntary manslaughter. Danny lawyered up. He’s already out on bail.”

  “Peterson?” I asked.

  “After your visit, Ochoa started digging. He had tampered with the ME’s findings. She knew he was cutting her out of the investigation. She traced that .308 shell you found in the parking lot to Peterson’s personal weapon,” she said.

  “Am I under arrest?”

  Kelly smiled. “The DA won’t press charges against you. Your PI license is safe.”

  “They should give you a medal for killing that bastard,” Skeeter said. “He was going to be governor.”

  “Danny’s here. He came with his grandpa. They’d like to see you.”

  I could hear traffic outside the hospital window and see heat waves dancing over the city. I thought about Grandpa telling me to stay away from the Allison family. He was right.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Should I let them in?”

  I nodded, and Kelly opened the door. Danny walked in leading his grandpa by the elbow. Patrick was bent over a cane, and his skin seemed barely able to cover his bones. He was a shell of what he once had been. The ravages of cancer had taken their toll. He took off his signature hat.

  “Grandpa insisted on coming in person,” Danny said.

  Patrick steadied himself on his grandson’s arm. “Mr. Fischer,” Patrick Allison said in a raspy whisper. “I apologize for what happened. Marcus Lopez backed me into a corner. Detective Peterson stacked the deck against us. Danny would have been charged with first degree murder. With Marissa being pregnant, he would have gotten the death penalty.”

  I cleared my throat. Kelly held the straw up to my lips, and I sucked more water.

  “You don’t have to say a damn thing,” Patrick said, his voice rising. “I’ve instructed my grandson to pay all the expenses you incurred during the Luna investigation, including paying for your services to my family. You earned it.” The arrogant son of a bitch was trying to pay me off, I thought. He pulled a bank envelope from his coat pocket. Danny took it from him and set it on the side of the bed.