With a little plan and a lot of ignorance Miguel telephoned the Naval Recruiting Station the day he arrived in Chicago. His plan was to cut off the head of the snake, to take down El Toro himself.
He told the recruiter everything he knew. The recruiter wasn’t sure what to believe, especially considering Miguel had placed a t-shirt over the receiver in an attempt to disguise his voice. Out of duty to country, he called it in. When he received a call back immediately he knew something was up.
El Toro was already under surveillance, but her rarely left Cabo San Lucas. If it was true that he was headed to La Paz it presented the best chance to bring him in.
Immediately after Miguel had ended his call with the Naval Recruiter, he telephoned Detective Brennan’s precinct. This was his plan to cut off the body of the snake, to take down El Toro’s businesses. He explained the way the drugs arrive from Mexico to Chicago, including the routes and what the containers look like. He explained that El Toro would never visit the States, and the only chance was to hurt him here. He was untouchable in Mexico.
A drug-sniffing dog confirmed Miguel’s story the following day. With it apparent that El Toro would wisely never visit the States, it was apparent that it was time for Detective Brennan and her team to move. And move they did.
Detective Brennan’s bust was the largest in history. The police confiscated so many drugs and weapons, that they had to secure an additional storage facility just to hold it all until the trial was complete.
On Detective Brennan’s day to testify, she was excited, but calm. She felt like she had already won the race, she was just here to pick up her medal. Any prosecutor in the state could have won with the case built against El Toro’s empire. The newspapers were reporting that their lawyers were struggling to find any loophole, and for good reason … there weren’t any.
All that was left to do was hammer the nail in the coffin.
And then in the middle of the morning session, the prosecutor received a text message. The prosecutor stared at the incoming text message so intently the judge had to call his name twice just to get his attention. His mind so focused on the message that he hadn’t heard the first time. The prosecution rose, and asked for a request to dismiss. The U.S. District Court Judge quickly accepted the request without reason and the case was finished just like that. The whole thing took less time than it takes to throw the change in the toll booth and wait for the arm to rise on the Tri-State Tollway.
The press had a field day. The situation had blown up in Detective Brennan and her team’s faces and there was nothing they could do about it. Worst yet, the Chicago portion of the cartel now knew exactly what Detective Brennan looked like. It was only a matter of time before they went for revenge.
She was immediately contacted by both the United States Federal Witness Protection Program and Illinois Witness Protection Program. She refused both. She wasn’t crazy. She knew she’d need a new identity and to leave town. She expected a hit attempt in no more than a few days at most.
She was swarmed when she arrived back at her office. Her voice mail was full. Her inbox quota exceeded. She was distraught at what had just happened. Worst yet, nobody could give her any answers. After spending the afternoon coming up empty handed in the search for the smallest of clues, Brennan turned in her badge and submitted her resignation on the spot.
She didn’t know if she was upset with the judicial system, the department, or something she wasn’t even privy to. And that was the trouble. The rug had just been pulled right out from under her, and there she sat, alone and empty on the floor.
She had wisely phoned the mall at lunch and ordered a new civilian jacket. She paid a big premium for same day delivery. She took the box from the desk sergeant and slid into the women’s room. The jacket was too big, but that’s just what she wanted. She flipped up the collar and headed out onto the street. She always took the train home, but decided tonight she’d walk one last time through the city, because by morning she’d be gone.
On her way home she noticed a man approaching her. She reached for the service weapon that was no longer there and suddenly realized hand-to-hand combat was the best she could hope for.
The man showed her his Navy ID and asked if he could speak with her. Anywhere of her choosing. He just had some information and also some questions of his own.
They found themselves in the back table of a diner. He explained the call he had received and how it was surely tied to her case. It was. They managed to put the puzzle together a little from each side until they reached the middle and found the most important piece missing … what had happened in the courtroom.
Detective Brennan left in the middle of the night. She just drove. She spent a week clearing her head in the New Mexico and Arizona deserts, ultimately deciding to drive her car out to the middle of nowhere and torch it. The next morning she bought the cheapest used car she could find, in cash, and made her way to California. She parked the car on a side street in Santa Ana with the windows down and the key in the ignition knowing it would be stripped to parts by morning. From there she caught a public bus to Laguna Beach, where she had checked online and found the opening for a detective position.
She didn’t hide the fact that she came from Chicago, nor that she put in the paperwork to change her name that morning. All she requested was the professional courtesy of the chief not to share this information once he completed the necessary background check. The chief was empathetic and also in desperate need of a detective. He called back to Chicago to check her out under her old name. He said a small bag with an ID and some money had washed up and noticed it belonged to one of theirs. The station confirmed her identity, and the chief agreed to mail back the items that Donna had volunteered to sacrifice. She was done with that ID card anyways. And five bucks and a hair tie would easily be replaced.
The Chief was old school, the station confirming her as one of their own good enough for him. He knew he was taking a chance, but felt right about this new woman in town.
CHAPTER 40
“Your ex, should I call him that, had a black out,” Dudley said as Donna entered the station.
“Won’t you get it through your thick skull to stay out of my business?”
“Your business is our business now.”
“No it is not.”
“Your boy toy left a note for you.”
“I thought he was in solitary.”
“Already occupied.”
“Where’s the note?”
“Put it in your box.”
Donna made her way to the interstation mailboxes and found hers. Chief Charles had allowed her to use her new name from the start. Seeing that she had a new identity and had just moved over two thousand miles, it hadn’t occurred to her to check for messages just yet. There was no external mail, but there was one internal message that looked like chicken scratch on a piece of scrap paper.
They’re here.
It’s not over, for you or for me.
$9k per deposit. See for yourself.
Don’t release other suspect’s name. Imperative.
You can still bring him in. No bull.
“No B.S., huh? That’s the only thing that’s been coming out of your mouth lately,” she said to herself as she entered her office.
Now she needed a motive. Why would Cain kill these two girl? And why not her?
In the next two hours she drank three cups of pitch-black coffee as she banged her head against her desk trying to make possible scenarios work. If she couldn’t convince herself, how could she put something together that would convince a jury?
She was still disappointed about Cain. She thought they really could have been something. Heck, if he wasn’t locked up not far from her desk, they still could be. But it doesn’t work that way. Not for her. There’s no point in trusting. She let her guard down and look what happened. Now, instead of having the case solved, she has a royal mess on her hands, a very personal and very professional mess, and one that’s b
ecoming way too public, way too fast. It was the worst she could have hoped for.
She wasn’t about to run away from her problems. That was never a consideration. As a matter of fact, it was time to face them head on. She knew one of the reasons she drove all this way, to the ocean, was to confront that demon once and for all. With everything falling apart, what better time than right now?
CHAPTER 41
Donna locked her office and left for Main Beach. On her way she passed by a number of surf shops. She went inside and picked out a plain one-piece swimsuit. Function over fashion. Streamlined not sexy. Basic not bold.
She arrived at the beach and found an open changing station.
Reaching down into the bag, she pulled out the suit. She stared at it, finally saying, “It’s just you and me now.”
She slid the suit on as quickly as possible. She didn’t want to give her mind time to reconsider.
She put her clothes into the bag and left the changing station. She walked to the lifeguard tower and placed the bag underneath. It was a common area for leaving things. She wasn’t worried about anything getting stolen. She didn’t bring anything valuable, and more importantly she didn’t plan on being gone long.
The goal was simple. Walk on the sand until the water reached her neck then swim out. Swim for ten seconds and then come back in. That’s it. But with those precious seconds she hoped to erase years of pain.
She checked the flag. It was green, signaling the beach was safe for swimming. No rip current or undertow. In her mind this translated to no excuses.
As she made her way to the shore a pair of kids ran past her in a race to get in the water. They weren’t more than six or seven years old. They dove in and suddenly they were gone. She felt anxiety beginning to creep in. She was that same tender age when her own path so suddenly and violently changed course forever.
She focused on the area where the kids had entered the water, waiting for them to come back to the surface. She watched. She counted. She subconsciously held her breath. Nothing.
Finally the little boy’s head popped above water. He was smiling, but seemed to be using all his energy to stay afloat. She watched as he called out for the little girl. She guessed it was his sister. They had the same hair color, same eyes, and same facial features.
The girl didn’t reply. Donna didn’t see her and then she turned back to the lifeguard tower just in time to see the lifeguard jumping from the middle of the steps and landing on the sand in a full out run.
The boys screams grew louder as he begged for his sister to come up for air. His worry had turned to fear of the worse by the time the lifeguard reached them. It was only a matter of seconds, but as Donna knew, sometimes a few seconds is all it takes.
Donna felt dizzy and lightheaded. She instinctively dropped into a sitting position. Her backside hit the sand first but her head wasn’t far behind.
CHAPTER 42
Twenty-four years ago
Chicago, Illinois
Christina Pearson opened the garage door as her mother backed her old Chevrolet Chevette out and onto the street. With the help of her best friend Sarah, they shut the door and raced to the car.
It was Christina’s birthday and her mom had promised her a trip to Kings Island Amusement and Waterpark just north of Cincinnati. It was a day Christina and Sarah had waited on for months.
As the car drove south the girls played games to pass the time. They made it halfway through their third round of I Spy before the girls passed out in the back seat.
Christina’s mother rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. Her hands were shaking and she was having trouble staying on the road. The eviction notice couldn’t have come at a worse time.
When the sign for the Kings Island Exit appeared Christina’s mother looked in the back seat and saw that the girls were still asleep. She was glad she wouldn’t have to go through any of her rehearsed lines as to her ‘little’ detour. She placed her hands on the ten and two positions on the wheel and stared forward, making sure not to look at the sign as she passed. She didn’t want to get emotional or have any second thoughts. A few seconds later the exit was missed and the car continued along its way.
Her mother reached under the seat and felt around until her hands met the long glass object she was searching for. She pulled it out and promptly gulped down as much of the vodka as she could before the back of her throat began to sting. She slid the bottle back under her seat and continued on.
As she reached the sign for the Ohio River she took a deep breath. She looked in the back seat at the two sleeping little girls. They were lying against each other, using each other as human pillows. At some point during the excitement of their games, they had removed their seat belts.
As she approached the Brent Spence Bridge she realized she made a mistake. It was a double-decker bridge. She was on the top deck heading to Kentucky. The bottom deck came back into Ohio.
She wasn’t going to alter her plan after she came all this way.
Traffic was light that Sunday morning, which made it all the easier. As soon as she reached the bridge she dropped her speed and began swerving from left to right and back again. The cars behind her fell back, giving the deranged driver space. The cars in front of her continued on, leaving room in the front.
The girls in the back opened their eyes just as she floored the gas and went to the left lane. Once her speed topped seventy she cut the wheel back hard, crossing all four lanes and heading the vehicle straight for the concrete guardrail.
The car flipped on impact. Christina shot through the front windshield on impact and was airborne a full eighty-four feet before impacting the surface of the Ohio River.
Immediately the Covington Fire Department launched a boat and was soon joined by the U.S. Coast Guard and the Boone and Kenton County Water Rescue. The water was full of debris with zero visibility.
The current dragged Christina to her car, pinning her against the back wheel. The car was upside down and both sinking and being pulled by the current.
The police report said Christina survival was a miracle. It was a stroke of luck that she was wearing her favorite red Chicago Bulls championship shirt. If she had picked a black or dark blue shirt that morning she would have blended in with the color of the wheel and been carried away.
Christina’s best friend and her mother were never recovered.
Christina had no memory of her name or where she was from. She didn’t know how she got in the river or if there was anyone else with her. She was discovered without identification documents, and after a lengthy search, put up for adoption. The accident had caused an outpouring of support for her situation and the line of potential adopters was long.
Her face appeared on national television as she left the hospital after weeks of therapy and surgeries. It was only then that her best friend’s family was able to understand what had happened to their Sarah, and the pieces of the puzzle came to light.
School was on break for summer holiday and Christina’s mother had been laid off from her job. No one had come looking for either of them. When school resumed in the fall it would just be assumed that Christina and her mother moved over the summer.
Her friends learned the true story, but had no idea how a slumber party in Chicago had turned into a road trip over four hours away.
Sarah’s family considered adopting Christina, even with the fear that seeing her every day might remind them of their own daughter. Before they even had a chance, a family in the Cincinnati area took legal custody. Sarah’s family decided it was best not to fight it. They didn’t want this young girl to experience any more pain. She had already had enough for a hundred lifetimes.
Christina agreed to take the surname of her new family. She would keep the first name the social workers gave her when she couldn’t remember her name, no identity documents were found, and no one showed up to claim her.
The first day of school the following year she signed in on the attendance sheet. She
looked down at her name, and wondered what it even meant. It didn’t matter. She was here. She was alive. And now, she was Donna Brennan.
CHAPTER 43
“Miss, are you okay?”
Donna felt a gentle slap on her left cheek. She looked up to see a fireman standing over her.
“She’s coming to.”
She looked and saw the fireman was talking to a second fireman who was also crouched around her.
“Miss, can you hear us?”
“Yes, I can hear you. I’m okay, thank you.” Her head was still full of cobwebs, but she knew where she was and remembered what happened.
“Either the intense sun or the sight of the rescue may have caused a brief attack.”
SEAL's Secret: A Navy SEAL Romantic Suspense Novel (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 24) Page 11