by Bill Craig
Pride was a dangerous thing, and Cervantes had a lot of it. Harker was very aware of that. It would be an interesting confrontation, especially if Torres wasn’t there to protect his boss. Harker expected Torres to show up, but he had no idea as to which way Cervantes would lean when he did. Harker stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse. He held his gun, waiting as the elevator climbed his way to the top floor of the building. He figured that there would be guards waiting. He just had to find a way around them. He hoped that the fake ID would work.
Eduardo Torres frowned at his phone. He was no longer getting an answer when he called Raoul Cervantes. That was not a good sign. It meant that he had lost the trust of his boss. Eduardo checked his weapon before climbing out of his car and making his way across the street to his boss’s office. If any of the guard’s tried to stop him, Eduardo planned to kill them.
Eduardo had been with Raoul for decades. They had come up from the streets together. It hurt that he was now be shunned for trying to do what Raoul had ordered him to do. Once, they had been best friends, no, they had been brothers from different parents. Once, they would have died for each other. And now, Raoul was acting like he no longer knew his best friend, his brother. Torres wanted to know why!
“Tina?” Manny opened his eyes. He recognized again that he was in a hospital room. How long had he been here? He sat up, and felt the room spin. But his movement was enough to wake his kid sister.
“Manny? What are you doing?” Tina asked.
“What happened? How did I get here?”
“Bro, I told you before. Some men attacked the office. Together, we took them out, but you were wounded. You’ve been asleep for most of the afternoon and into the evening.”
“What time is it?”
“About eight o’clock. Why?” Tina asked.
“Have you talked to AJ?” Manny demanded.
“As a matter of fact, I have. He’s on the trail of Raoul Cervantes.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
“About two hours ago, maybe three. Why?”
“I need to get out of here right now. AJ is walking into a deathtrap!”
“Brother, you aren’t going anywhere until the doctors give their okay!” Tina told him.
“The hell I’m not,” Manny swung his feet to the floor.
“Nurse!”
Manny was trying to remove the tape holding his IV in place when the nurse walked in.
“Mr. Mendez, you need to lay back down,” she told him, with a tone of authority.
“What I need to do is get the hell out of here,” Manny growled at her.
“You can’t until the doctor releases you. He’ll be in tomorrow morning to look you over, but I doubt you’ll be out even then,” the nurse told him, firmly. Just then two large hulking orderlies entered the room. They grabbed Manny and forced him back down on the bed. The nurse removed a syringe from the pocket of her scrubs and stuck it in the IV. She pushed the plunger down, and after a few seconds, Manny quit struggling and lapsed once again into unconsciousness
“The drugs make some patients aggressive, but you were right, he’s stubborn,” she told Tina.
“I know my brother pretty well,” Tina replied.
The elevator stopped at the penthouse floor. Harker waited for it to open. He had his Ruger in his fist, ready to rock and roll if need be. The doors slid open and he stepped out into a hallway. There was a long hallway that lead to a single door. There were no visible cameras in the hallway. Poor security, Harker thought.
He headed down the hallway to the door. Harker knew that there was a good chance that he might not survive this encounter. But he was still willing to try. Raoul Cervantes needed to die. One way, or another. Harker planned on being the man who put a bullet through his skull. The door was twenty-five steps from the elevator. It took him no time at all to cover the distance. He tried the knob. The door was unlocked. He turned the knob and stepped inside.
The penthouse condominium was spacious and wide, with lots of open space and a lot of windows. The lights of the city were visible through the windows. There was music playing in one of the far rooms. A salsa tune that Harker didn’t recognize. Harker followed the music. He checked each room as he went, making sure that he didn’t leave a potential killer behind him.
Finally, he stopped outside a closed door. Harker stood there for a long moment. It had been years since he had first confronted Raoul Cervantes. Years since he had busted Cervantes for smuggling drugs. He had put the guy away, but he had gotten out early for good behavior and took right up where he had left off.
That didn’t sit well with Harker. He had kept an eye on the son of a bitch after he got out of prison. Harker knew that one day, he would nail Cervantes once and for all! Now was the time. He turned the knob and pushed the door open.
“Come in, Harker. I’ve been expecting you,” Cervantes said softly.
“Is that right?” Harker asked.
“It is. I’m truly sorry about the girl. That was not my doing. That was 100% Costanza. I killed him for it,” Cervantes said. He stood and walked to the bar, pausing long enough to pour himself a tumbler of scotch.
“Why should I believe you, Raoul?” Harker asked.
“Because I am telling you the truth, Harker,” Cervantes told him.
“Why did Torres kidnap my girl, Raoul. He broke the rules when he did that.”
“I know that, and I told him as much when I found out about it.”
“But you let him live?”
“I did. I was not happy, but he could still serve a purpose.”
“What exactly was that purpose?” Harker asked.
“It brought you too me when Eduardo could not,” Cervantes shrugged. He took another sip of his scotch.
“So why, Raoul, did you want to see me?” Harker asked.
“I wanted to let you know that I had nothing to do with that unfortunate woman who died on your doorstep. That was all Costanza’s doing,” Cervantes answered.
“Why should I believe that?” Harker asked.
“No reason that I can think of, but it happens to be the truth.”
“I had that feeling too,” Harker admitted.
“So, where does that leave us?” Cervantes asked.
“I wish I knew,” Harker agreed.
Eduardo Torres was shocked to find that Cervantes office was empty. That was not what he had expected. Where had the boss man gone? That was the question. His face flushed with anger at the thought of being unceremoniously dismissed. He drew his gun and pumped five rounds into the thick chair behind the desk where Raoul normally sat.
Then, Torres spun on his heel and walked back out of the empty office. Where could Cervantes be? He would have to go hunting for him. Torres smiled at that thought. It was time that Raoul was reminded of what it felt like to have a target on his back.
“We seem to have a stalemate,” Raoul Cervantes said.
“Why, because I can’t pin this murder on you either?”
“Indeed.”
“What about Torres? He’s out there running around like a loose cannon, bring down heat on you that you can’t really afford. It’s bad for business,” Harker shrugged.
“Yes, Eduardo has become a problem for me. He is also a problem for you too, is he not?” Cervantes asked.
“He is. So, what do you want me to do about it?”
“Take care of your problem. Do that, and let’s say that I will owe you a favor,” Cervantes took another sip of scotch. He regarded Harker coolly.
“Having you owe me a favor might be good for my business. The thing is, could I trust you to deliver when I need it?” Harker said, just as coolly.
“You would trust me, Harker.”
“I’d sooner trust a pissed off rattlesnake. The odds of survival are better with the snake.”
“At any rate, were something to happen to Eduardo, there would be no retaliation on my part. Call it a free pass if it makes
you feel better.”
“Not that I need it, but thanks. One of these days, Raoul. You’ll slip up and I’ll be able to nail you once and for all. Remember that,” Harker told him, as he turned his back and headed for the elevator door.
“Keep dreaming, Harker,” Cervantes called after him, the sound of his laughter echoing all the way to the elevator. Harker considered going back and blowing his head off, but then decided that Cervantes just wasn’t worth it.
Sylvia Cain was waiting in the lobby of the building when the elevator doors opened. She gave Harker a questioning look.
“It wasn’t him,” he told her.
“Then who?” she asked.
“I’m still working on that,” he said.
Chapter Twenty
“Harker, what do you mean it wasn’t him? Are you telling me that Raoul Cervantes wasn’t up there? Or something else entirely?” Sylvia demanded. She reached out and grabbed his arm, and Harker spun around getting right into her face.
“Cervantes was up there, yes. Did I kill him for you? No, I did not. But if you want to do it yourself, go ahead and take the elevator to the penthouse. I’m not an assassin. But he didn’t order Emma’s death. That was Costanza! And he’s already dead,” Harker snapped at her.
Sylvia jerked back. “How do you know he didn’t order it done?” she demanded.
“He told me he didn’t.”
“And you believe him, just like that?” Sylvia threw her hands up in the air.
“Just like that, Sylvia. I’ve been doing this a long time. I’m pretty damn good at knowing when someone is lying to me. Like you have been almost since you showed up in my office,” Harker said.
“Okay, so I lied. But tell me why in hell you believed him?” Sylvia demanded.
“Because he gave me his word it was the truth.”
“His word? Raoul Cervantes’ word isn’t worth spit! The man is a goddam animal! For Christ’s sake, he’s a fucking drug lord.”
“Yes, he is. Except, Raoul Cervantes is an honorable man. I don’t trust him or like him any better than you do. But I have never, ever, known of him to go back on his word,” Harker told her.
“So, it’s over then? You’re done? And the girl that died on your doorstep gets no justice? So much for the vaunted AJ Harker, Miami’s own white knight,” Sylvia spat.
“You want him dead, go up and kill him yourself. But if you do, you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison,” Harker told her. He crossed the street and made his way to his car, leaving Sylvia Cain standing there. She turned and walked back inside the building. Harker shook his head as he watched her go inside as he pulled out into traffic.
He was tired. It had been a long day. He wanted nothing more than to pour a drink, put his feet up and watch an old movie. Except the day wasn’t over yet. He hoped that Sylvia Cain would regain her good senses before crossing over a line that she couldn’t come back from. He hoped that she wouldn’t do it. But it was really up to her.
He pulled out his cell phone and called Lisa. Eduardo Torres was still out there, and Harker needed to know that she was safe. He was surprised when she answered on the first ring.
“Hey, baby, how are you?” he asked.
“Better now. I wrote the story and then got a police escort to headquarters. That’s where I am now,” Lisa replied.
“That’s a good place for you to stay until I can locate Torres and deal with him.”
“You think that he will come after me again?”
“At this point, I have no idea. But he’s a very dangerous son of a bitch. I’d rather have you sitting in the middle of a bunch of cops than out on the street where he could snatch you up at will.”
“You really think he will try, don’t you?”
“I won’t lie to you, babe. I think he will try. That’s why I have to find him first.”
“I get that, AJ. I really do. So, I guess I’ll hang out here until you give me the all clear.”
“Thank you, Lisa. I appreciate that.”
“Be careful, Harker. I mean it.”
“I know that, Lisa. I really do.”
“You better,” she told him. Harker hung up the phone as he drove into the night. He had to try and figure out where Torres might go.
Eduardo Torres swore as he drove through the humid night. Raoul was still in hiding. Nobody in the Latin Quarter or Little Havana seemed to know where he was, even under threat of death! It angered him and amused him at the same time. He had no doubt that Raoul knew that he was looking for him by now. And yet, the man seemed to have disappeared off of the face of the earth!
Torres had even driven past where Harker’s girlfriend lived. Nobody was home there either. He suspected that she was probably sitting in the Metro-Dade Police Station telling the story of her capture and captivity at his hands. No, he could pretty much count getting his hands on her again as out. He frowned and drove off into the night.
Sylvia Cain stood in front of the elevator doors. She bit her lip as she looked at the silver doors. Did she want to end her life, her career by taking revenge on Raoul Cervantes? She looked down at her hands. They were shaking. Fear? Maybe. Then it hit her. She couldn’t do it. No matter how badly she wanted to, she had no real proof that Cervantes had ordered her niece’s death. It was only supposition on her part. Cursing her own weakness, Sylvia spun on her heel and went back to her car. Once inside, she began to weep.
“AJ, where are you?” Tina asked, when he answered the telephone.
“I’m on the streets, looking for a killer,” Harker replied.
“I figured you would be. Manny is doped up for the night. He tried to get out of here by himself.”
“That sounds like Manny. Tina, the one thing I need you to do, is to keep him in the hospital for a couple of days. If Manny gets out, he’ll want to get involved and that won’t do me any good at all,” Harker told her.
“I figured that out all ready, boss. I’ll keep him here for a couple of days, so you can wrap things up. After that, well, you’re on your own.”
“Thanks, Tina, you’re the best,” Harker told her before hanging up. He headed back for home. He could use a drink. It had been a long and busy day. A drink and some Chet Baker on the CD player sounded like a fitting way to put the day behind him.
Eduardo Torres was growing more frustrated by the hour. It was as if Cervantes had disappeared from the face of the earth! Where could the man have gone? With the boss missing, that left him one other target: AJ Harker. He looked up Harker on the browser of his phone. It listed a home address as well as the office. He headed for Coconut Grove.
The streets in Harker’s neighborhood were quiet. He lived on a quiet street away from the business district, but not in the bad neighborhoods that were a few blocks over. He swung the Jeep into his driveway and shut it down. He climbed out and used his key fob to lock the doors and set the alarm before heading up the sidewalk to his front door. The rain earlier had washed away most of the blood and the wind has removed the yellow crime scene tape.
He felt bad for Emma Cain. She had not deserved to die. She had been trying to do what was right. At least Costanza was dead, since he had been the one to order her death. That left only one loose end. Eduardo Torres. He shook his head as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. Harker was reaching for the light switch when something slammed down hard on the back of his skull and everything went black.
The room was still mostly dark when Harker opened his eyes and groaned. He tried to move and found that his wrists had been taped together with duct tape. His gun was gone from its holster as well.
“What the hell?” Harker muttered.
“So, you are awake at last,” Torres said as he stepped in front of Harker.
“I guess I am. You want to tell me what this is all about?”
“Certainly. You are going to die, Harker. But before that, you are going to suffer a few hours of torture.”
“Is that so?” Harker asked, wincing in pain when he moved
his head. His vision was slightly blurry, and his head was pounding like it was in a drum line competition.
“You have cost me a lot, Harker. You need to pay for that. And when I’m done with you, I’ll find Raoul and take care of him,” Torres explained.
“That might be harder than you think, Eddie. Cervantes has already thrown you to the wolves,” Harker chuckled.
“What do you mean?” Torres demanded.
“He offered me the job of taking you out. Do you honestly think I’m the only person that he made that offer to?”
“You lie!”
“The hell I do!” Harker snapped back, gathering his body beneath him. He had a plan, but it would count on him taking Torres by surprise. Torres stepped in and backhanded him in the mouth. Harker tasted blood as his lip split.
“You hit like a girl.”
“Fuck you,” Torres stepped in closer, striking Harker with his fists. Harker rolled with the punches and raised his taped hands up to protect his face. Then he snapped them down and away from his body ripping the tape apart. He stepped in and slammed his forearm into Torres’ face, driving him backwards.
Harker kept advancing, punching the man in the face and the body until Torres was reeling. Harker gave him a left to the belly to double him over and then followed it with a devastating right to the point of his chin that flipped Torres backwards onto the floor. Harker recovered his gun and the one that Torres had and called the police to come and pick the killer up.
A week later, Harker was sitting at his desk writing a report for an insurance client when the door opened, and Sylvia Cane walked in. She dropped into the chair across the desk from him.