“In here,” Jefferson shouted, making the decision to crawl from under the table.
“Are you all right?” the officer asked as he moved into the dining room, looking out of the undraped window to see if any perpetrators were hiding.
“We are now,” Jefferson offered. “My wife and I were eating dinner when all of a sudden we heard what sounded like firecrackers and then broken glass hitting the floor. Whoever it was used a semi-automatic. It lasted for no more than ten seconds, but it was the scariest ten seconds. We’re grateful that we weren’t killed.”
“Let’s move from this room. Even though I didn’t see anyone outside, we can’t be certain no one is hiding out back. I’m going to draw the blinds so that the inside of your house won’t be so exposed.”
Margo broke down. She was frightened out of her skin and held onto Jefferson for dear life. Her body began to shake, and she began to cry out loud.
Jefferson held Margo in his arms. “I’m going to protect you, baby. Please don’t cry. The police are going to get whoever did this to us.”
“Do you have any idea who might have done this?” the officer asked, ignoring Margo.
“I can make an assumption,” Jefferson replied. “I didn’t see anyone, so I can’t back my theory with proof. If at all possible, I’d like to speak with Captain Petrowski in Homicide. He needs to be made aware of this because it lines up with my theory.”
“I’m calling him now,” the officer stated. “I suggest you good people find somewhere else to sleep tonight. You’ll also need to board up your house to keep the curious and the robbers out.”
“After I talk with the Captain, I’ll take care of that,” Jefferson replied.
“Some of my men will be walking around outside and inside to see if they can find any clues as to who did this. Don’t touch anything in the living room until we’ve finished in there.”
“You don’t have to worry about us. We want whoever did this to be caught posthaste.” He turned to Margo. “I need to call Edward and Angelica to warn them about what happened.”
“If she hadn’t brought her narrow behind back to Fayetteville, this wouldn’t have happened,” Margo said as the tears continued to roll. She laid her head on Jefferson’s chest, still sobbing. “Why us? Why us, Lord?”
He speed dialed Edward’s number, and he answered on the first ring. “Edward, our house was hit tonight.”
“Hit, what do you mean?” Edward asked.
“Someone tried to kill us—shot a round of fire power into our house, shattering our living room window. I’m sure it’s the work of Santiago or someone close to him. If we had been in the living room, it would have been messy.”
“Jesus, Jefferson. That lunatic Santiago is playing for keeps.”
“It scared us to death, got Margo half out of her wits. Angelica needs to know right away.”
“I don’t want to upset her right now. Hopefully, this can keep until Hamilton’s funeral. I have reinforcement, if I need it.”
“I think it’s important that she knows what she’s up against, Edward, so she can be on guard. That’s all I’m saying,” Jefferson admonished. “After I speak with Petrowski, Margo and I are headed to a hotel. I thought about skipping the funeral Saturday, but with Hamilton being an ex-cop, Santiago wouldn’t dare show up there with a church full of police officers.”
“You’re right. Let me know if you hear anything else,” Edward said, his voice strained. “I can’t believe it’s come to this. The feds should have nailed Santiago a long time ago.”
“I guess the war wasn’t big enough. Talk with you later, man. Petrowski just arrived.”
“Later.”
“Who was that on the phone, Edward?” Angelica asked, sitting up in the bed.
“It was Jefferson. He wanted to know if we made it back to the hotel safely.”
“Seems kind of odd, don’t you think?”
“Why would it seem odd?” Edward asked, looking at Angelica strangely.
“Because he was in such a rush to be with his wife. And from the sound of it, you and I getting back to the hotel all right was the last thing on his mind. Tell the truth, Edward. What’s up? What didn’t you want to upset me with now?”
“Somebody tried to kill Jefferson tonight.”
“Oh my God!” Angelica cried, grabbing the sides of her face in disbelief. “Is he all right?”
“Whoever it was shot several rounds into the house but, thank God, Jefferson and Margo were in another room.”
“Edward, I’m scared. I don’t feel safe here anymore. What if someone comes here and tries the same thing?”
“Calm down, Angelica.” Edward reached for his briefcase and opened it. “If anyone tries to come through that door, they will have me to reckon with.” He brandished the revolver, checking the safety. “They’ll have to kill me first.”
49
“Good evening, Mr. Myles.”
“Captain Petrowski.”
Captain Petrowski shook Jefferson’s hand. “Good to see you on the other side of the law.”
Jefferson dropped Petrowski’s hand and motioned for him to have a seat. He dismissed Petrowski’s little innuendo about his tour of duty in prison because he had more important things on his mind. “Any word about Santiago, Captain? My gut feelings tell me this is his work.”
Formalities out of the way, Captain Petrowski shared with Jefferson most of what he knew.
“We have questioned several inmates at the prison who might have witnessed Hamilton’s murder. We still have not come up with anything concrete. The Highway Patrol has been sweeping Interstate 95 for the last two or three days, but our dragnets haven’t netted anything yet. We’ve got the city pretty well surrounded, with double duty the day of the funeral.
“We’ve received word from New York that suggests Santiago could very well be tied to the murder of a well-known photographer by the name of Donna Barnes Reardon. Coincidentally, she is the cousin of Hamilton Barnes.”
“I wasn’t aware of that,” Jefferson said thoughtfully, wondering why Angelica hadn’t mentioned it to him. Brushing his curiosity aside, Jefferson looked at the Captain. “When did this happen?”
“A month ago,” Captain Petrowski responded.
When was Angelica going to tell him? She’d been sleeping with Santiago for some time, and surely she had to have known about Hamilton’s cousin. He balled his hand into a fist and slapped it into his other, pissed that he had to hear this bit of news from the Captain.
“Is there something wrong?” Captain Petrowski asked, noting Jefferson’s agitated state.
“Wrong? Santiago is a madman, and I’m afraid he’ll do whatever he has to do to eliminate Angelica Barnes and me. I’m frustrated because he’s still running around when he should have been in prison years ago.” Petrowski looked away because he wanted Santiago more than anybody and hated that he had slipped through his fingers. “And to see my wife paralyzed with fear when those shots were fired into my house tonight…hell, I’ll admit I’m scared.”
“Wherever you choose to go tonight—I’m sure you won’t be staying at your house—we will have security for you.”
Without knocking, a police officer that had been outside gathering evidence rushed into the house.
“Captain, we’ve got a witness who saw someone shooting at this residence from a car. We’ve got a tag number and it’s from New York.”
“Get an ID on it now,” Petrowski barked. “By the way, good work!”
“Thanks, Captain. Already working on it.”
50
Sleep escaped Jefferson. It gnawed at him that Angelica had not shared the bit of information about the murder of Donna Barnes Reardon, Hamilton’s cousin. She had to have known because she was right there in New York when it happened. Maybe she wasn’t aware, given that she had been Santiago’s prisoner, but this was a serious matter, and it was hitting mighty close to home.
It pissed him off more that he and Margo had to uproot an
d leave their home for an undisclosed place because of what he feared was near. He had not been as close to God as he should have, but he was certain that Margo’s direct connection to the Father was what saved their lives. If Jefferson was a praying man, his single prayer was that God would strike Santiago dead and rid the city, state and country of a horrifying and treacherous menace.
Unsure if they were in Fayetteville or a neighboring city, Margo and Jefferson had been placed in an unmarked police vehicle and whisked away to an undisclosed location. The only thing Margo and Jefferson knew for sure was that they were holed up in a hotel suite that offered a temporary shelter away from home.
He held Margo close, satisfied that she had finally drifted off to sleep. Even her snoring was music to Jefferson’s ears because Margo’s fear was greater than his own. Uncomfortable with security protecting their privacy, they were grateful for their protection nonetheless. Jefferson considered sending Margo to Atlanta to stay with her brother or with Ivy and J.R., but when Jefferson approached her with the idea, she pulled rank and insisted that she was going to stay by his side.
Patting Margo, Jefferson eased from underneath the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. With his elbows on his knees, he placed his forehead on the ball of his knuckles and contemplated what he should do. It was still a good idea to remove his family from harm, but he wanted to do something to make this nightmare end.
Noises in the hallway made him look up and turn his head toward the door. Cautiously, he got up and tiptoed toward the door. Reaching the door, he stretched his ear to see if could hear what was going on. Muffled words were traded but none that Jefferson could decipher. Again, he heard footsteps that seemed to be retreating—and then quiet again.
A thin layer of sweat formed on his face. Jefferson moved from the door and went to the bathroom. He relieved himself and took a face cloth and washed his face. Leaving the bathroom, Jefferson breathed a sigh of relief but was startled when he saw Margo sitting up in the bed.
“What is it, Jefferson?”
“Can’t sleep. I still hear the shots in my head from earlier this evening. I see Santiago’s face mocking me—telling me that my time is up.”
“Stop it, Jefferson,” Margo pleaded. “We can’t give into the fear or it’s going to swallow us up.”
“I’m trying, Margo. God knows I’m trying not to worry. We came so close tonight…so damn close. We could have been lying in the morgue alongside Hamilton. I keep asking myself, why? Why now?”
“We don’t know the answer to that but we have to trust that the police will do their job. We have more security protecting us than they do at Fort Knox. Unless Santiago has a well-trained network, I believe the feds and the police are in a good position to apprehend him before he does anymore harm.”
“Why didn’t they stop what happened to us tonight?” Jefferson asked with a tremble in his voice.
“Santiago had to make a move. Unfortunately, we were the targets. You know what happens when a criminal becomes anxious to carry out his mission; he sometimes becomes careless and sloppy. His desire is so strong to get revenge that he will stop at nothing to carry it out. It’s only a matter of time before he’s caught.”
Jefferson looked at Margo. He wasn’t sure where the confidence she exuded came from, but it was what he needed at this moment. Margo exercised such control over her emotions that it surprised him.
“I love you, Margo. Even at three o’clock in the morning, you’re so full of wisdom.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t afraid of the big bad wolf, but I can’t allow fear to control my destiny. Come and sit down next to me.” Margo waved Jefferson over and patted the bed. “Give me your hands; we’re going to pray.”
Jefferson sat next to Margo and put his hands in hers. He looked at her with a smile, said nothing and closed his eyes.
“Dear Lord, Jefferson and I have come to You as humbly as we know how, asking once again for Your help. There’s a crazy, mad man roaming the city who wants to kill my husband and others. I know there’s nothing too hard for You, Lord, and I ask that You would put Your loving arms around us and protect us from all hurt, harm, and danger that threatens to kill and destroy our family. I know that we don’t always deserve Your love and blessings, but I ask that You do this for me…for us.
“My husband is a good man, Lord. He’s paid for his mistakes and he wants to do the right thing. Please forgive us for those things we have done that weren’t right in Your sight and restore us to good standing with You. You are an awesome God, Creator of all things. You would not have put the sun, moon, and stars in the heavens if you didn’t love us the way you do.
“Again, I submit my request humbly to You because You’re the only one I know who can get us out of this jam. These things I ask in Your name, Amen.”
Jefferson opened his eyes and kissed Margo. “That was beautiful. How did I get so lucky to have the best woman in all of the universe?”
Margo turned away and wiped the tears that had converged at the corners of her eyes. God, forgive me for my transgressions, she prayed silently. She opened her eyes and fell into Jefferson’s waiting arms. With all the firepower that surrounded them, standing guard to take out the enemy if it should decide to raise its ugly head against them, Margo and Jefferson made love, after which they settled into a restful sleep.
Jefferson’s body shook. He woke and sat straight up in the bed. Loud noises resounded in his head—rat-a-tat tat, rat-a-tat tat, rat-a-tat tat, rat-a-tat tat. His dreams would not retreat and release him to the real world. Santiago, surrounded by his death squad with automatic weapons, stood only several feet from his defenseless body, spraying him over the city street without an ounce of remorse.
“Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh.” Jefferson struggled to catch his breath, reeling from the dream. He clasped his throat with his hand and then dragged it down to his heart, letting it lay there for a moment until his heartbeat became normal.
Margo’s body shifted. Not feeling Jefferson next to her, she sat up in the bed. Adjusting her eyes to the darkness, she reached out to him. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s, what’s wrong?”
“Go back to sleep, Margo. I’m restless…couldn’t sleep.”
Margo sighed. “I feel guilty because that was the best sleep I’ve had in a while. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
Sighing, Jefferson looked back at Margo, contemplating if he should share his dream, and voted against it. “I want this to all go away,” he finally said. “Do you mind if I turn on the TV? I need a distraction.”
“Go ahead, but turn it down low. I can’t stand loud noises early in the morning.”
Finding the remote, Jefferson switched on the television. The morning news with John and Barbara flooded the screen.
“We have a breaking news story out of Fayetteville,” Barbara said. “Denver Grey is live in Fayetteville now.”
“Thank you, Barbara,” Denver said. “We’ve learned that last evening, around nine o’clock, the home of Jefferson and Margo Myles, in the Jordan Estates subdivision here in Fayetteville, was riddled with bullets gangland style by unknown assailants as they drove past the home. An eyewitness to the event was able to obtain the license number and identify the make of the car. The Myleses, in the meantime, were taken to an undisclosed shelter under police protection.
“Many may remember that, five years ago, Jefferson Myles, a well-known businessman in the city, was involved in a covert organization called Operation Stingray and convicted of embezzlement. Mr. Myles was recently released from prison. Operation Stingray—headed by then leader Robert Santiago, who is still at large—was an underground organization that purchased stolen weapons from Ft. Bragg Army Base and then sold them to a rebel group in Honduras.
“The police have made a positive ID of the license plate and have the name of the owner of the vehicle, which they will not release at this time. They do say, however, that Mr. Robert Santiago, who has eluded police dragnets for five years, may be linked. Th
ere is some speculation that the murder of former Lieutenant Hamilton Barnes, who was killed at Central Prison earlier this week and was also a member of Operation Stingray, may be the work of Robert Santiago. Mr. Barnes will be laid to rest tomorrow.
“We will continue to update you on this news story as information becomes available. I’m Denver Grey reporting to you live from Fayetteville. Back to you, Barbara.”
Silence gripped the room, save for the newscasters’ continuing coverage of other local news stories. Jefferson sat glued to the television, as if in a trance, without batting a lash. Margo heard the news as well and sat up in the bed, now fully alert. Slowly, she lifted her hand and touched Jefferson’s shoulder.
“Did you hear what they said?” Margo asked.
“Didn’t miss a word. Santiago is written all over this atrocity. And you know what, Margo? I don’t feel any better with all those policemen sitting outside. He’d shoot all of them to get to me.”
“Why didn’t he try to take your life while you were in prison, as you believe he did with Hamilton?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that. As I try and analyze this thing, I believe it all begins with his wanting to get even with Angelica.” Jefferson jumped from the bed.
“What is it, Jefferson?” Margo asked in alarm.
Jefferson continued to pace the floor with his thumb under his chin and his index finger across his nose. “That’s it!”
“That’s what?”
“Santiago wanted to control Angelica, to get her in his clutches. She owed him after she ran out on him to warn Hamilton and me that there was a hit out on us. I believe that Angelica wasn’t playing the game he wanted her to play, so he had Hamilton killed to put the fear of God in her, and after she ran out on him, he was out for blood.”
“But why you, Jefferson? You had nothing to do with Angelica.”
“Everything connected to Angelica and Operation Stingray is tainted. Santiago has declared war and is making every effort to see that we pay for the demise of that group, although only Hamilton, Angelica, and I did time for our part in Operation Stingray.”
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