Caribbean Rain

by Rick Murcer

  He scrambled out of the tent, falling face down into the dirt. That’s how the park rangers found him, still screaming, some thirty minutes later.

  Chapter-11

  Passing another eighteen-wheeler like it was standing still; Manny felt the Explorer slide then straighten. He knew he should slow down, but getting to Cleveland was all that mattered.

  “This must be driving you crazy,” said Alex quietly.

  Manny glanced at the chubby CSI, swerved around a slower-moving truck, and nodded. “That might cover it. You know, when you deal with all the shitty things life throws at you, you think maybe you’re ready for a few good rolls of the dice.”

  “True enough, but we’ve all been around the block a time or two, and we know life’s a crap shoot. So we’ve got to be ready for anything, but that’s easy for me to say—at least today,” answered Alex.

  “I know that’s true, but sometimes I’d just like to have the dice in my hand.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right on that,” Sophie strained from the backseat. “But the way you’re driving on this snow, I’d say you’re getting a few lucky rolls.”

  “Sorry. It’s making me nuts not knowing, and AD Dickman won’t take my calls.”

  “I know,” she said, “and I’m hanging. Might need some new underwear, though.”

  “Why?” Manny asked.

  “Mine went out the window after Toledo.” The next second, Manny felt Sophie’s hand on his shoulder. “But me and old Dough Boy can handle whatever it takes to get you there. Right?”

  Alex flashed a grin of his own. “She’s right.” He turned to look over his shoulder. “Toledo, huh? Mine never got out of Michigan.”

  Manny smiled, despite the situation. “I’ll buy you both a new pair . . . and thanks, I needed that.”

  They drove in silence for another twenty minutes when Alex pointed to the road sign. “That’s the exit.”

  Cranking the wheel to the left, Manny felt the Explorer fishtail back to the right, then straighten as if an unseen hand held the SUV steady.

  “Damn it, Williams. I’m driving next time,” said Sophie, her voice an octave higher.

  “I hope we don’t ever have another next time like this.”

  “Good point. But the next trip is mine.”

  “Fair enough. You’re better than me, but I couldn’t just sit in the seat. That would’ve driven me nuts.”

  Manny swung the Explorer into Cleveland’s Memorial Hospital. The tires had hardly stopped turning when he jumped out and ran through the driving snow and wind toward the emergency room’s entrance.

  Alex and Sophie hollered for him to wait, and he heard their staggered steps crunching the crisp snow, but waiting was out of the question. Hell, anything except a full sprint was out of the question. He’d managed to keep his composure for the three-and-one-half-hour drive, but now his bundled nerves were fully released, along with a once-controlled imagination. Dread was his new best friend. To lose a love of your life once was obscene, twice made it flat out unbearable.

  The automatic doors hesitated, slid open, slid shut, then crawled to reopen. In those moments of pause, after he kicked the thick door, he thought of Chloe’s face and all that contributed to the essence of who she was. He brushed at tears.

  What will I do if she’s gone?

  His panic escalated thinking about Josh. This cop world was a bitch and when you have people like Josh to cover your ass, well, it was the difference between sane and insane. Life and death.

  Rushing through the now completely opened door, Alex and Sophie at his back, he charged the nurse at the counter.

  “Chloe Franson and Josh Corner, where are they?”

  The nurse raised her eyebrows. “Didn’t your momma teach you any manners?”

  Before Manny could move, Sophie had the nurse by the lapel, her face an inch from the nurse’s rotund face. “This ain’t no time to think about teaching manners. If you don’t want your fat ass kicked through that door out into the freeze-ass parking lot, answer the man.”

  The desk nurse’s eyes widened, and she pointed down the hall. “IC. . . IC room two on the third floor,” she stammered.

  “See, that wasn’t so damned hard, now was it?”

  Sophie smoothed out the woman’s jersey and then followed him toward the elevator.

  “Not nice, you know,” said Manny. “But thanks.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t tell Santa . . . and you’re welcome.”

  Bursting through the elevator door, his eyes searched the room numbers. Two was on the left. He hurried to it and then stopped.

  Maybe I don’t really want to see this.

  But he knew no other way but to be bold. He said another prayer and took a step. Alex grabbed his arm.

  “I got this one, boss. I’ll be right back.” With that, Alex strolled ahead.

  Running his hand through his hair, Manny let Alex enter the hospital room first, and in doing so, felt some momentary relief. Maybe there was only so much of this heartache thing that people could handle. Maybe that was how it’s supposed to be. Then we’d have to lean on others just that much more. Somehow that made perfect sense.

  Alex was gone for about fifteen seconds when Manny couldn’t take it any longer. He took a deep breath, inhaling that inherent hospital smell, and headed through the wide doors.

  There are shocking situations in life to be sure. Manny had seen more than his share—good and bad—but all of heaven and earth could have convulsed into some other dimension, and he wouldn’t have been as surprised.

  Chloe sat on the first bed, facing the door, with her legs crossed, a small bandage on her temple. Her left arm was draped across her ample chest resting in a beige sling.

  In the bed sat Josh. Circling around his head was a gauze wrap. There were scrapes and cuts on his face and arms, but he looked to be relatively unhurt. It took a moment for the scene to register. Chloe and Josh were alive and kicking.

  Odd where the mind ran at times like this. His first reaction was one of disbelief, and the second was to thank God that his expectation was not a reality.

  “About damn time you got here, agent. We were thinking you didn’t love us anymore,” said a grinning Josh. “Oh, and you can close your mouth now.”

  Struggling to her feet, Chloe rushed Manny, who met her halfway. She was a strong woman, and even with one arm, she held tight enough to stop the air from coming, but he didn’t care. He gently wrapped his arms around her.

  “Is that all ya got, man?” she whispered.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’ll let you know if ya do.”

  He kissed her and pulled her tight. “Better?”

  “Oh, much better.”

  Manny had no more words, but then again, he was pretty sure he didn’t need them.

  After a minute that seemed like a second, he kissed her, held her at arm’s length, kissed her again, helped her onto the bed, and then moved to Josh.

  “You’re not going to kiss me too, are you?” he smiled. “There are manly rules about that kind of thing.”

  “Not gonna happen, even on your best day,” he said as he leaned and gave him a hug.

  “Shit. I will,” said Sophie.

  She brushed past Manny and gave Josh a long kiss, square on his lips, then stepped back. “Damn. That was even better than the dip-and-kiss you pulled on me in Lansing.”

  Josh’s face turned red. “Ah thanks, Sophie.”

  “Don’t mention it. Somebody has to be willing to do what it takes in this group.”

  Alex shook his head. “None of you are right. This is supposed to be a Behavioral Analysis Unit, not freaking Woodstock.” But Manny could see the sparkle in his eyes. He was as relieved as Manny.

  Manny sat on the side of the bed. “About time? Is that what you said? You’re lucky you’re gimped-up. I thought we were dead three or four times with me driving here.”

  “Sorry about that. We couldn’t call. Lots of tests and
no phones. Besides, the boss wanted you here.”

  Chloe hobbled to his side, her hand slipping into his, leaning her head on his shoulder. The way he felt as she touched him was the substance of answered prayers.

  Letting out a deep breath, he located what was left of his composure. “We’ll talk about that in a minute. What happened up there?”

  Josh turned his head and looked down, then his cobalt blues caught Manny straight on.

  “That weather front went nuts, and the next thing we knew, we were dropping like a lead balloon. We bounced on the runway, but the plane hung in there, and for some unknown reason, Chloe and I woke up, side by side, in the snow at the end of the runway, virtually unhurt. She’s got a sprained ankle and a bruised shoulder. I got my brain rattled around, and my back’s sore as hell, but nothing too severe.”

  “The pilots did a great job of keeping Josh and I alive, but . . .” said Chloe, her voice breaking.

  “They were both hurt worse than us,” finished Josh.

  The room grew quiet.

  Manny again marveled at the mind’s ability to balance several simultaneous, gut-wrenching emotions into something that drew order out of chaos. Relief. Angst. Joy. Sadness. Frustration.

  They were all grateful for Chloe’s and Josh’s survival, but at what price?

  “They’re both in the other IC unit, hanging in there, but they won’t tell me anymore than that. Funny. I was on the pilot’s case for telling me how it was, instead of trying to make Chloe and I feel better. A few minutes later, he and the co-pilot were saving our bacon,” Josh whispered.

  “He sounds like my kind of guy,” said Alex softly.

  “Mine too,” said Manny.

  “Okay. Enough of the trip down Guilty Lane. It can’t change anything, and I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve had enough of the emotional rollercoaster ride for the day. Those guys are going to make it because it’s how it’s supposed to go. They did their jobs, and that means they won’t be checking out anytime soon.”

  Running his hand through his hair, Manny smiled at Sophie. “Pretty profound for someone who thinks she’s not.”

  “Hey. I have my moments.”

  “And you’re also right,” said Josh.

  “Changing gears from Agent Lee exhibiting more than a sixth-grade level of profoundness . . . Josh, you said the boss wanted Manny here, and I’m assuming us as well. So, why?” asked Alex.

  Josh nodded and immediately winced. “Ouch. That’s not a good idea. Anyway, the assistant director has a case for us, your very first as FBI agents. It’s not exactly up our alley, but the DEA arrested three suspects in San Juan that they believe to be a part of one of the most prolific cocaine cartels in the Caribbean.”

  “We get a road trip to San Juan in January? I’m already loving this gig,” said Sophie, clapping her hands together.

  “Down girl. Josh is right. We really don’t have much experience in that world,” said Manny.

  Sophie raised her hand. “Ooo. Ooo. Does experimenting with crack in college count as experience?”

  “I’m going to ignore that, agent,” said Josh, grinning. He turned back to Manny. “What he’s hoping we can do is complete an in-depth profile and then apply that to the next step of interrogation. The DEA is desperate to get anything on this cartel. They think the head of this organization was responsible for getting over three hundred tons of coke in the US last year.”

  Alex whistled. “Damn. That’s a lot of blown-up sinuses and septums.”

  “Not to mention tax-free income,” added Chloe.

  “So when will you two be able to leave?” asked Manny, moving closer to Chloe.

  “The doc said I can fly in a few days, but Chloe could be ready to go, depending on the x-rays. You might have to go without me this trip. It’s you they really want anyway.”

  “As profilers?” asked Alex. “I can understand Manny, but Sophie and me?”

  “You two are very good at what you do, and the three of you have been a team for awhile. You can kick around ideas with each other, and it’ll help.”

  “It won’t take long to profile three drug runners,” said Manny.

  “Yeah. They want you to leave tomorrow and probably come home in a day or two. Home, as in Quantico. You’ve all got a shitload of paperwork to finish and you haven’t met everyone you need to meet. Then there’s the swearing-in ceremony for Alex and Sophie.”

  “That’ll be a switch. Sworn in instead of sworn at,” said Sophie.

  “For you,” said Alex.

  “Bite me.”

  “On your own time, you two,” said Josh, not hiding his smile.

  “I’m assuming you all brought your travel bags,” he continued, “so go ahead and get a hotel. You’ll leave tomorrow morning, early.”

  The phone on the nightstand rang, and Josh picked it up.

  “Corner here. Yes sir, thank you. We’re glad we made it, too.”

  As Josh listened, Manny saw his friend’s expression change like a dark cloud had just blocked his sunlight.

  Josh hung up the phone, then swung his bare feet to the floor. “Circumstances have changed.”

  “How?” asked Manny.

  “The rangers in the El Yunque rainforest have just discovered four bodies. Two near a campsite and two in a tourist attraction, the Mount Britton Tower.”

  “And . . . ?” prompted Alex.

  “They were all four hacked to death, and it looks like the killings could have been less than twelve hours apart. They want our help.”

  “What does hacked to death mean?” asked Manny.

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”

  “So we’re invited and still leaving tomorrow morning?” said Manny.

  “Yes to both. Well, we’re going to leave as soon as the weather clears and we can get a jet here. I’ll talk to the doctors and find out their bottom line for when I can leave. I have an ‘in’ at the rainforest so I need to get there ASAP.”

  “In?” asked Manny.

  “I’ll tell you later.” Josh paused then added, “There’s another thing. We need to talk about you and Chloe getting tight when this one’s over. There are regulations that address relationships at the Bureau, let alone in the same unit. Especially when it could affect judgment in a dangerous situation. Is that a problem here?”

  Manny nodded. “We kind of thought this was coming, so no surprise. But no, there’s no problem, so far.”

  “He’s right, none so far,” said Chloe.

  “Okay. We’ll talk more later on. Right now, let’s get the docs to do their job so we can get the hell out of here.”

  “Are you going to be able to fly so soon?” asked Alex.

  Raising his palms to the ceiling, Josh shrugged. “What choice do I have? I either fly or take a bus to DC and get a job serving burgers.”

  “I guess that’s true, but that may be easier said than done,” said Manny.

  “It might.”

  Manny noticed that Josh was trying to avoid eye contact and knew immediately there was more. “What else?” he said.

  “Two things,” Josh quickly responded. “We will be meeting the new CSI assigned to this unit in San Juan. His name is Dean Mikus. We just hired him away from the Los Angeles PD. Very bright, but a little quirky.”

  “He’ll fit right in,” said Sophie.

  “He will. And the other thing?” probed Manny.

  Agent Corner glanced at the floor, then to the ceiling, finally settling on Manny. “This might be my last case in the BAU.”

  Chapter-12

  “We’ve got six bodies, all killed the same way. I think that qualifies as freaking rampage, a serial-killer trifecta. Shit. Why us?” said Detective Julia Crouse.

  Detective Carlos Ruiz started to answer his partner, but paused to look at her for a moment. She was taller than he, better-than-average-looking with huge, dark eyes and short, black hair that perfectly framed her oval face. She was damn near attractive when she let go of t
he seemingly eternal frown. Today wasn’t going to be one of those days, however.

  He stroked his mustache, shrugged, and said, “What’d you think homicide was when you signed up? A Girl Scout get-together with barbeques and piñatas? I mean we get more murders than New York.”

  “No, smartass, I knew we’d get the drug and gang-war crap. A few road-rage shootings, and of course, the old standby, domestic violence, leading to more funerals than reconciliations. But this? Good God, did you see those bodies?” answered Julia, hands flying a mile a minute.

  He sighed. He had seen them. The horrific scenes would no doubt stoke the fire that fueled his perpetual migraines and the never-ending nightmares.

  Ah. The joy of law enforcement in San Juan.

  “Even worse was the position of the bodies. It was . . . organized,” he said.

  “I saw some of that, but I’m not sure it was the case for the last two.”

  “I’m not sure of a lot of this, and the CSI teams are going to go nuts trying to find anything where these folks were found. That’s why I called the cavalry.”

  Crouse rested her backside on her desk and crossed her arms. He smiled. She wasn’t anything if not a classic, strong-willed woman. She hated not being the first to know. He thought that trait was part of what made her a good cop.

  “What? Who’s the cavalry?” she asked, lips tight.

  Gathering his thoughts, he gazed out the second-story window and caught the beginnings of a Caribbean sunset. It was as vibrant as any in the world. He felt himself drawing strength from it, strength he needed whenever he talked about her.

  “A couple of years ago we had a murder at one of the Condado Strip’s elite hotels.”

  “I remember that one. Ended up being some psycho serial-killer tandem, right?”

  He nodded. “It did. The FBI got involved, and this Michigan cop, Manny Williams, helped in ways that only those profiler types can. But it was too late for my partner, Christina Perez.”

  Crouse’s expression was immediately altered by the softening of her eyes and face. He’d only witnessed this look a time or two in their partnership. “I remember that too,” she said softly. “I was still in blue, but I heard the rumors about how she died.” She tilted her head. “And the rest of those rumors.”