by John Moore
That was it. She hung up. Holy shit, he cloned my phone. I bet he did it that morning at Café du Monde, I thought. That’s how he’d been able to track me. No wonder he’d been able to move in on the Dixie Mafia’s territory. He’d learned how to spy on them digitally.
He might have been a master at eavesdropping, but he didn’t know where Piper was. I’d be in LA tomorrow to bring her home.
Chapter Twenty:
Making Arrangements
I sped along I-10 toward New Orleans, feeling more than a little paranoid. I’d just told a Russian Mafia boss and his Colombian drug cartel buddy to go fuck themselves. Was I crazy? Maybe so, but there was no way I was going to make any deals with Victor or any other criminals. I’d seen the consequences compromising values had on people’s lives, leading to complete destruction.
I thought about my conversation with Victor, and for some reason it stirred maternal feelings in me. I hadn’t considered having children anytime soon, but now I felt like I was a mother. My instincts were to protect Piper at all costs, knowing I had to go to LA to bring her home, and that meant I had to leave the center unattended. My path was clear. Tom and Piper were my family, and they were my first priority. The center would still be there when I returned. At least that’s what I hoped.
Tom. What about Tom? I picked up my phone to call Sophia. Wait. Piper said Victor cloned my phone. He knew where I was and whom I was calling. I pulled my car over again along the shoulder. I extracted the SMS card from my cell phone and threw it in the swamp. From this point forward I had no communication with anyone, and I felt vulnerable, knowing I still had to cross the Lake Ponchartrain waterway. This bridge was the place the Scorpion gang attempted to run me into the swampy waters. I took my gun out of its holster and placed it on the seat next to me. If El Alacran’s thugs were going to attack me, they were going to pay a steep price.
Fortunately I made it to my condo without any trouble. Sophia was seated at the kitchen table when I entered the condo, drinking a freshly brewed cup of coffee. Just what I needed.
“Let me tell you what I’ve found out about Tom,” Sophia said. “He’s sitting in a jail in Southern Mexico. He’s been arrested for rioting and resisting arrest. Those are serious crimes in Mexico. I don’t know what he did to get arrested, but I know he’s in big trouble.”
“Shit, Sophia. Tom wouldn’t do anything like that. He went to protest, not riot. He certainly wouldn’t have resisted arrest. Getting arrested is the goal of the protests. It brings attention to the cause. No, there’s more to his arrest than they are telling you. What can we do?”
Sophia thought for a moment before she spoke. “I’ll have to go to Mexico. I have friends in the government who will help me. I may be able to get him released to my custody. There is a great deal of corruption in Mexico. Tom probably crossed the wrong people, and it won’t be easy to get him out, but at least I can try.”
Once again tears filled my eyes as I hugged Sophia. She’d returned to the city to help me without hesitation, without knowing what we were up against. I told her about my visit to the New Orleans central lockup and my trip to Baton Rouge. She was shocked to hear Victor’s proposal to me. Sophia knew about phone cloning and told me to use only burner phones until Victor was out of my life. She booked her flight to Mexico and promised to do her best to get Tom back safely to the US.
I checked my blog and email. I had an email from my lawyer, Joshua Clark. He’d written in the subject line “Important,” so I opened it immediately.
Dear Alexandra,
I have some urgent business I must discuss with you. I called your cell but it went straight to voice mail. Please contact me as soon as you receive this email.
Respectfully,
Joshua
I emailed him back advising him I’d lost my phone but would check my email regularly and needed to see him this afternoon if possible. He must have been on his computer when I sent my email, because he responded instantly agreeing to see me right away. As I navigated traffic, I revisited my conversation with Victor. He knew Tom was in Mexico, saying he was a guest of the Mexican government. I didn’t make anything out of it at the time, but now I knew he probably had something to do with the charges against Tom. Was it a part of his master plan? I just hoped Sophia could use her connections to spring Tom and bring him safely back to the United States.
I walked into the law office, and the receptionist ushered me into the coffee room, instructing me to make myself at home. It disturbed me to think how comfortable I’d become in a law office. Before moving to New Orleans, I didn’t even know a lawyer, but now I was forced to deal with one regularly. Had life become so complicated that lawyers would be involved in all aspects of our lives? I hoped not.
Both lawyers, Swartz and Clark, entered the conference room, and Swartz took the floor. “Hi, Alexandra, have a seat. We have a couple of matters to discuss. First, as you know, when you settled with ACC for poisoning your farm’s well, they agreed to pay for the cleanup. They agreed to allow you to choose the contractor and gave you thirty days to make your choice. I received a letter from ACC’s lawyer pointing out that it has been in excess of ninety days and you haven’t advised them of your choice. They are threatening to pull out of the agreement if you don’t choose a contractor within the next thirty days. Secondly, regarding the custody of Constance Sanders, the judge has ordered a conference of all parties in two weeks.”
“Who has to attend the conference?” I asked.
“The judge usually wants all of the parties and their lawyers to attend. Will that be a problem?”
“I should be available, but I’m not sure Tom will be.”
“I see,” Joshua said. “The judge will probably allow me to waive his presence. It will probably be good enough that you attend as Mr. Sanders’s significant other. Now, what about choosing a contractor for the remediation of the well on your farm in Indiana?”
“I’ll find a contractor within the thirty days,” I said. “I have something else to talk to you about. As you know, I am on the board of Sarah’s House for Battered Women and intimately involved in its operations. The director, Susan McAllister, was arrested for murdering one of the residents. I know she is innocent. Do you handle criminal cases?”
“No, I don’t,” Swartz said, “but Mr. Clark does.”
This was fantastic news because I liked Joshua’s confident manner and felt he was the right person to help Susan. I laid the entire situation out to him, even giving him Susan’s family’s background. I transferred his $5,000 retainer into his account as he instructed. He promised to go see Susan immediately and start working on her defense. I felt a little better about leaving town. I just knew Victor was the one causing all of these problems. The only way to stop the problems was to stop Victor.
I went to the condo, to find Zach and his sister, Maddy, chatting with Sophia. I hoped they had some good news, because I could sure use it.
Not today. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. Zach had been ordered by Jaeger to complete another mission. It seemed El Alacran was in New Orleans, and Jaeger and the Dixie Mafia needed Zach take some cash to him as a down payment for a heroin shipment. I warned him that Victor had just told me El Alacran was on his team, and it looked like Zach was being used as a pawn in a deadly game of chess. Only this wasn’t a game. We were caught in a life and death struggle for the dark side of New Orleans, the parts that had always been there but went unnoticed by most of us in our day-to-day lives. These were hidden places where people with dark hearts flourished. Zach said Jaeger already knew El Alacran was doing business with Victor, and the cash was an effort to break him away. I begged Zach not to go, and to break his ties with all of them.
“Zach,” I pleaded, “El Alacran is a murderer. I watched him give the order to cut off an innocent young woman’s head just because her father refused to do business with him. Five minutes later they brought her
head in to show me. Nightmares still haunt my sleep from that sight. El Alacran wanted to kill me too, and he would have if he hadn’t been stopped by Sophia’s brother. He won’t hesitate to kill you and cut your head off—or worse. Please listen to me.”
Zach couldn’t meet my eyes, knowing I was right, his hands trembling slightly as he hesitated to answer me. He was trapped; his choices were to go to jail for a long time and risk getting his sister killed or face El Alacran. Zach was suffering the consequences of his decision to get involved with these dark forces. I guess he felt like it was too late to turn back now.
“If I pull this off, Maddy and I will be free,” Zach said. “If they kill me, at least Maddy will be free. She is my only family. Nothing will stop me from trying to save her. I have to take the chance.”
“I know these guys well,” Sophia said, her eyes seeming to glaze as she spoke. “They recruit young boys to be their foot soldiers from grade school, and most are killed by rival gangs. They threaten and kill entire families who don’t cooperate with them. I have seen every member of an entire family murdered and their heads placed on poles outside of their towns as a warning to those who might defy the cartel. You can’t reason with them. You must stay away from them or you will suffer a fate like the villagers I described. You should listen to Alexandra.”
All of our pleas fell on deaf ears, and he decided to go anyway. Maddy sat next to him crying the entire time, pulling at my heartstrings, knowing I was powerless to help them. She and Zach were all each other had, and she might lose him. Though she was innocent, drugs led Zach down the wrong path, and now they were threatening to destroy both of them. But that’s what happens when you deal with the devil; there is always collateral damage.
It was time for Zach to go to his meeting, and I asked Maddy if she wanted to stay with me at the center. She leaped at the chance, not knowing what else to do, because if something happened to Zach, she would be all alone in this world. That was a feeling I knew well. I had never realized how important having a family was to me. Even though Tom, Piper, and I were a little non-traditional, we were still a family.
Life at the women’s center seemed normal. One of the youngest, Karen, had stepped up to make sure certain meals were on time and chores were getting done. She was only seventeen but still an amazing person. I guess getting pregnant and having to be on her own made her grow up fast. I wondered what would have become of her, an unwed mother, discarded by her parents, if the center wasn’t available to her. Or even worse, what would have happened to her child. I shuddered to think of the consequences. Yet every day in this country young girls are put in that position. They are easy prey for the Victors of the world. Without help, she would have no choice but to succumb to the life he offered.
These thoughts only reinforced my commitment to the center. I hoped I’d be able to bring Piper home and dedicate more time to helping these vulnerable but strong and deserving young women.
Maddy was mesmerized by the house, commenting that she had never been in such a fine place. As she walked in, she looked up in awe at the fifteen-foot ceilings finished with beaded board. I took her to the family room and introduced her to the women and children watching the Disney movie Frozen on TV. All of the children’s eyes were glued to the large screen, fascinated even though they’d probably seen it five times. I guess everyone likes a fairytale where the good guy wins. They would surely need that belief later on when circumstances were challenging and evil reappeared, tempting them down the dark path.
I brought Maddy into Susan’s office to assign her a room. Susan kept a chart of all of the residents, showing when they arrived, what room they were in, and when they expected to leave. She had more detailed records on her computer, but the chart was a quick visual reference, and I gave Maddy a room close to mine.
Maddy turned the television on in Susan’s office to catch the news, being a bit of a news junkie. Other than that, she loved any shows dealing with healthy lifestyles. Funny, I thought, how different her path in life was from Zach’s. The talking head was reporting on the increased number of young women missing from the streets of the city. They made it clear, without being politically incorrect, they weren’t talking about soccer moms. They were talking about the city’s working girls, and I was pretty sure I knew who was responsible. It had to be either Victor or Clint or the rest of his Dixie Mafia buddies. More collateral damage. These young girls were in the middle of a war they had no power to stop. I only hoped Detective Baker could stop them before many more of those defenseless women were murdered.
It was getting late, and I was tired from my journey to meet with that demon Victor and all of the rest of the day’s events. I showered and put on some comfy pajamas. Maddy did the same and joined me in my room. She told me all about her plans to someday be an advocate for organic food and fitness. She looked the part already, her skin completely clear and radiant. She was muscular yet still curvy and had unbound energy to go along with her physical beauty. We were just starting to get sleepy when Karen burst into the room.
“Ms. Alexandra, someone just dumped a body in the driveway,” she screamed. Maddy gasped and my heart stuttered. We were both thinking the same thing.
We ran outside. It was Zach.
Chapter Twenty-One:
LA or Bust
Maddy screamed as she looked at her brother lying helpless on the pavement. His face was covered in blood, and blood flowed from multiple points on his body. He looked as though he’d been hit by a fast-moving train. He lay motionless on the pitted asphalt, and from a distance, he was the very image of a gangland killing pulled from the pages of a prohibition-era newspaper. I ran to him, bending over as the thought came: “Blood is flowing; that means his heart still beats,” and he was breathing.
“Quick, call 911,” I yelled. “He’s alive. He needs to get to a hospital fast.”
“Zach, Zach, what have they done to you?” Maddy moaned. She cradled him in her arms so his head wouldn’t be on the filthy street. She thumbed the blood out of his eyes and stroked his blood-soaked hair. “You are going to be OK. The ambulance is on its way. You are going to be OK. You have to be.”
I sat beside her and prayed his life be spared. Zach was trying to set his life straight. When would he be through paying for his mistakes? Where was that ambulance? It had better get here fast.
My prayers were partially answered as the ambulance pulled up next to Zach. I tore Maddy away so the paramedics could do their job. They shouted commands to each other, moving like a finely coordinated team. IV started, Zach was shifted to a gurney. It only took five minutes to get him secured in the ambulance and on his way to the hospital.
“Come on. Let’s go to the hospital,” I said.
Maddy and I loaded into my car and sped to Tulane Medical Center. For the second time in a week an ambulance responded to a call at the center. The residents had to be freaked out. Poor Zach didn’t look like he was going to make it. He’d obviously taken a severe beating. According to the paramedics, his pulse was faint, and though I hoped for the best, I prepared for the worst. Maddy was a mess, bawling and babbling at the same time. She couldn’t get control of herself, and I couldn’t blame her. Zach was a bad enough sight for me to have to witness. I can only imagine how rough it was for his sister to see him beaten, bloody, and hovering at death’s door, her fear of losing him driving her to the edge of insanity.
When we arrived at the hospital, Zach was in surgery. We had no word on his condition, but I took it as an encouraging sign that they admitted him to surgery. They must have thought they could do something to save him and I felt like he was in good hands. The trauma unit at Tulane had seen its share of torn bodies. New Orleans had the highest murder rate of all American cities its size. The doctors at Tulane were experts at piecing together broken bodies. They dealt with beatings, knifings, and shootings every day, and this was just another case to them. But to Maddy, it meant ev
erything since Zach was her last remaining family member. She rocked back and forth in the waiting room with her hands clasped in the praying position. She said nothing and I said nothing either. She’d removed herself to a safe place in her mind. A place free from the hysteria she was fighting, wanting to escape everything and everybody.
A doctor emerged from the double doors leading to an operating room. “May I speak to the family of Zach Dawson, please?”
Maddy trembled as she rose to her feet. In a frail, distant voice, she said, “I am Zach’s sister, Maddy Dawson.”
The doctor nodded at me before he spoke to Maddy. “Ms. Dawson, your brother suffered a savage beating. He had a ruptured spleen and massive internal bleeding. He also had some serious contusions on his head. There doesn’t appear to be any brain damage, but we won’t be sure for a couple of days. Luckily, we got to him in time. A few minutes later and I don’t know if we could have saved him. He is going to remain in intensive care for the next couple of days. There are always risks in a case like this, but if all goes well, he can start his long road to recovery. And it will be a long road, but from what I saw in there, your brother is a fighter. He’s also a lucky man. Another five minutes . . .”
Maddy nodded numbly, the hope in her eyes fragile and heartbreaking.
The surgeon continued, “The police wanted to speak to him and I told them they’d have to wait a couple of days before he would be strong enough to talk.”
“May I see him?” Maddy asked.
“Not tonight. If you come back tomorrow we will let you have ten or fifteen minutes with him. He needs his rest. He will feel pretty bad tomorrow. We will need to keep him sedated because he will be in a great deal of pain.”