The Scene 2

by Roxy Sloane

  Xavier sighs in frustration. "Fine. I'll be there in twenty. Don't go anywhere."

  He stays turned away from me for a moment, and it feels like the frustration is coming off of him in waves. I try not to let my brain work overtime on making this something it isn’t.

  "I'm sorry, Nicole, but I'm going to have to cut our evening short. There's an emergency with an important shipment, and it requires my attention."

  I nod, but the wheels in my head are turning again. Could this be something outside his legitimate business? Something illegal, something dangerous? "It's fine, I understand."

  He squeezes my hand and leans over to whisper in my ear. "I want you to know that I am sad to miss the rest of our date, because I had all kinds of things planned for your body later. But I swear I’ll make it up to you. Very soon."

  I shiver, but I’m not sure if it’s from the promise of Xavier’s touch or the fear that I still don’t know who he really is.

  #

  Xavier's driver meets us at the ballpark so he can drive me home early, but I have him drop me at the corner store instead. I was all ready for a night of hot sex with Xavier. Now that it's not going to happen, I plan on spending the evening with Ben and Jerry instead.

  I grab a pint of Chunky Monkey, some Doritos, and a bottle of white wine. The walk home feels good after sitting for so long, and I take deep breaths of the warm ocean air. Miami's growing on me. If I can let go of the mystery surrounding Eli, maybe it could even be home. Why not- I've made friends, I have a decent job, and I even have a quasi-boyfriend. Maybe I'd be happy here. I could finally start moving forward.

  No sooner do I have the thought than I feel someone behind me. I'm afraid to look, but I know I have to. I slowly turn around, but no one's there. The only people on the sidewalk are a male couple on the other side of the street, so into each other they're oblivious to everyone and everything.

  I walk into the courtyard still feeling like someone's watching me, and it takes me some time to shake it off. I'm seeing shadows and conspiracies everywhere. I have to get over it.

  As I cross the courtyard, I look up at the apartment. Only the light next to the door is on, which means Hailey's still out. She finally broke down and went out with the bouncer from Club Ultra. It turns out he's working his way through medical school. I say a silent prayer that it's going well.

  I shift my bag of goodies to my other arm so I can dig my keys out of my purse, and I put one foot on the stairs.

  A hand clamps around my mouth at the same time one clamps around my waist, pulling me backwards. My scream comes out as a muffled moan, and as my groceries fall to the ground, I wonder if this is the last thing I’ll ever remember.

  Chapter Six

  The man's hand covers my mouth and jaw. He presses tightly to keep me from biting him, and I struggle in his arms as he drags me through the courtyard, slapping at him and trying to pry his hand away from my mouth. The bag with my snacks falls, and I hear the wine bottle shatter. He keeps telling me to be quiet and that he's not going to hurt me.

  He pulls me into the alley behind the building next to the dumpsters. The only thing I can think is God, please don't let me die here. Not in a dumpster like some piece of trash thrown away. My parents would never survive another loss. Hot tears spill down my face, and my heart feels like it's pumping enough blood for an army. I'm desperately trying to figure out a way to get out of this, when he pulls me to him so quickly that I crash back against him.

  "Shh. Listen. My name is Agent Barton. I'm with the DEA. I'm not going to hurt you."

  He holds me there, making no attempt to move. My head is swimming. DEA? Is this for real? My confusion is enough to make me stop struggling.

  "I'm sorry I had to do things this way, but there are people watching you. I couldn't approach you directly or it would put you in even more danger."

  The comment about people watching me gets my attention. The comment about more danger freezes me to the bone. My body goes limp, and I feel the weight of all my suspicions crash down on me.

  "I'm going to release you and show you my badge. Please don't scream. It would be bad for both of us to be found here together."

  His grip on me loosens, and he waits to see if I'll bolt or scream. I do neither. Instead, I grab the edge of the dumpster and use it to hold myself up. Agent Barton, or whatever his name is, lets me go and walks around my side to face me. He’s tall and broad and dressed all in black, like the bouncers at Club Ultra, but minus the cologne and charm. If anything, he looks tired and on-edge. With a hand up to keep me standing still, he slowly reaches in his pocket and withdraws a badge. I lean forward to examine it, and it definitely appears to be the real thing.

  I'm face to face with a real life DEA agent. Who just assaulted me.

  I rub my jaw, and he winces.

  "I really am sorry I had to do that. I just couldn't risk them seeing us talking."

  "Who the hell is 'they'? You grab me from behind like some kind of mugger or something…what the hell kind of agent does that?"

  "You're right, and I'm sure I scared you. But it was the only way to get you out of there. It's dangerous for us to be seen together, but I have to talk with you."

  "Seems like you're the one who's dangerous. Why should I trust you?"

  "I'll explain everything, but not here. Take this." He holds out his business card. "I wrote an address on the back. Meet me there in twenty minutes. Don't go back to your apartment and don't take your car. There's a bus stop two streets over at the corner. Next to the laundromat. Take it to the last stop. The address is two blocks away on foot. Make sure no one follows you."

  "This is insane. Why would I meet you there? You attacked me, and now you're acting like some kind of savior?"

  "I know it's crazy, Miss Scott. But please meet me. I know what happened to your brother."

  #

  Barton slinks off into the night without another word. I'm still reeling from what he said. Can he really tell me what happened to Eli? He's DEA, so does that mean it's true what they said about my brother? Was he really working for the cartel?

  It's a little hard to read the card in the dim light of the alley, but it appears to be a legitimate business card. Before I run off to meet him, though, I'm going to make sure there really is an Agent Barton.

  Instead of calling the number on the front of the card, I call directory assistance and ask for the closest DEA office to Miami. The number it gives me is the same as on the card.

  "Drug Enforcement Agency, may I help you?"

  "Yes, what branch am I calling and where are you located?"

  "This is the Miami Division, ma'am. We're located in Weston. Is there something else I can help you with?"

  "Yes, I'm trying to reach one of your agents. Agent Barton?"

  "He's out on assignment, in the field. Would you like to speak to another agent?"

  "No, thank you. Can you confirm if Agent Barton is in Miami?"

  "I cannot confirm his current location due to security concerns, but I can confirm that Miami is one of the areas he covers. Can I leave a message for him to return your call?"

  I hang up the phone. Agent Barton is real.

  The entire bus ride over to meet him, I speculate on what he'll tell me. He said he knew what happened to Eli. Is he investigating El Jefe? Is he undercover?

  The address turns out to be a run-down diner in a pretty sketchy neighborhood, and it pisses me off that Barton made me take a bus and walk here instead of taking my car. I'm definitely taking a cab back to my neighborhood.

  He's sitting at a booth in the back where he can see the whole dining room. When he sees me, he nods and then scans the restaurant. He's as paranoid as I am.

  I can see him a lot better in the unforgiving light of the diner, but I'm not surprised to see he’s handsome. He’d have to be if he’s working undercover at the clubs.

  When I sit down across from him he says, "Were you followed?"

  "I don't think so. Although
I'm surprised I wasn't attacked again. This isn't the safest neighborhood to be walking in."

  "Sorry about that, I couldn't take any chances. When we leave here, I can shadow you in my car until the bus picks you up."

  "I thought I'd take a cab."

  He shakes his head. "If a cab drops you off, they can question the driver. Find out where you were."

  I sigh. "Look, I'm not good at all this cloak and dagger stuff. Tell me what's going on or I'm out of here."

  "I'll tell you everything I can, but first I need to ask you some questions. I need to know how much you know so I can try to protect you. The more you know, the more danger you're in."

  He looks concerned, and I reevaluate my frustration with him. He's obviously trying to help me. Maybe he tried to help Eli too?

  "One thing I do know is that you went to the police and asked a lot of questions. Why?"

  "Because they’re the police! They’re supposed to be the good guys. And my brother's death makes no sense. Where else would I go?"

  "Shhh, keep your voice down. We don't want to draw attention." He looks around the diner and is apparently satisfied because he continues. "What have you found out?"

  "I took some pictures. The scene looked staged, the pieces didn’t add up. I think the detectives were involved. They essentially threatened me and my family if I didn't let it go, and I think it’s possible they had me followed." I look up, wondering if he thinks I’m crazy. But Barton’s grim expression is dead serious, and suddenly I realize how deep I’m in this now.

  "What do you think happened to your brother?"

  I take a deep breath. "I'm not really sure, I just know that nothing makes sense. There's this guy Eduardo. Supposedly Eli was holding and maybe delivering packages for Eduardo, but I don't know if that was really drugs or not."

  Agent Barton leans forward. "What else do you know about Eduardo?"

  "Not much. I overheard him talking to someone he called boss about how Eli was taken care of. Supposedly Eduardo works for some guy they call El Jefe."

  He tenses. "How do you know that name?"

  "Someone at this club Eli worked at, Club Ultra, mentioned it. I can't remember who though. I talked to a bunch of people about Eli and Eduardo. No one wanted to tell me anything."

  "You've been able to piece together a lot of information, Miss Scott." He leans back in his seat and takes a sip of coffee.

  "Not really. None of it adds up, and I can't make the connections. I think people were right, that Eli got in over his head and somehow got involved with these drug people. Maybe he saw or heard something he shouldn't have, so they killed him. But I can't prove any of it, and I definitely can't prove who did it."

  "But you went to the cops to try to get them to do something."

  "Obviously that didn't work." I cross my arms over my chest. "I've given up, Agent Barton. People have been following me, the cops threatened me…none of it's going to bring Eli back. Not to mention, digging any more could get me or my parents killed."

  "I am concerned that they're following you now. I think they're waiting to see if you took the cops' advice to back off."

  The waitress approaches and asks if we want to order anything besides coffee. Agent Barton orders key lime pie. I wave her off, sticking to coffee. The hot dog I ate earlier already sits like a rock in my stomach.

  "Is there anything else you found out? Anything else I should know about Eduardo's business or El Jefe?"

  I hesitate. Should I tell him about my suspicions about Xavier even though I'm pretty confident he has nothing to do with it? What if I don't say anything, and Agent Barton later finds out? It could be obstruction of justice, getting in the way of solving my brother’s case.

  "There's something else, isn't there?" His tone is gentle, but it's obvious he knows I'm holding out on him.

  "It's nothing, really, I just…there's someone I've been seeing. He's a businessman, but he's pretty vague about most of his businesses. I was at a party on Eduardo's yacht, and he showed up. Eduardo called him boss, and I thought for a while he might be El Jefe."

  "But you don't think that now."

  I shake my head. "I'm still not sure, but I just can't imagine it."

  "What's his name?"

  I feel like I’m betraying him, but what if he is the one behind my brother’s death? Agent Barton pulls a small notepad out of his pocket and slides it across to me along with a pen.

  “Write it, then. That way you can still say you never told me.”

  I pick up the pen, pull the paper toward me, and with a shaking hand, I write down Xavier’s name. Barton slides the notepad back over and reads the name. His eyes reveal nothing.

  What have I just done?

  #

  The waitress drops off the pie. I let Barton get two bites down before I get frustrated. Enough with the stalling. It’s time for some answers.

  I give him my fiercest stare. "Okay, I've told you all I know, now tell me what happened to my brother."

  He drains his cup of coffee and signals to the waitress for a refill. "You sure you don't want something to eat? You look a bit pale."

  "I've been through a lot today. I need to get this information from you and then go home and sleep for two days."

  "Fair enough."

  After the waitress refills the coffee, he leans in and keeps his voice low. "Your suspicions were right about the person responsible for Eli's death. It was El Jefe, and he has a bunch of cops in his pocket, including your friend Halford. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know."

  My brain spins with the information. He’s right, it’s not a surprise, but even though it's what I expected, it's another thing entirely to hear someone else say it out loud.

  "I've been tracking El Jefe for years, trying to get enough evidence to take him down. I'm getting close, but there's still information I need."

  "Was Eli really involved in drugs?" Dread curls in my stomach, but Barton immediately shakes his head.

  "No, he wasn't involved in drugs."

  A weight falls off my shoulders, and my lungs fill with air as I take a deep breath in and out, relieved. My eyes well up with tears, but I brush them away.

  "How does Eli fit into this? Why was he killed?" I’m not sure I want the answer, but I need it.

  Barton takes a bite of pie before he answers. His sleeve slips down his arm, and I notice his watch. It’s a pretty new, black leather band with what looks like a platinum face. Not what I would expect from a DEA agent, but then again, it’s not like I’ve met any of them.

  "He was working undercover for me on the side, keeping an eye on things at the club and contacting the DEA if he saw anything interesting. We have a lot of informants like this all over Miami. I recruited your brother to help me get information to bring down El Jefe, but he had to look and act the part to go in deep."

  Eli would have loved that, I realize. Going undercover, making friends with criminals but secretly working for the good guys. But real life isn’t like Eli’s favorite movies and video games. No wonder he got in over his head.

  Something behind me catches Barton’s eye for a second, and then he focuses on the table again. I turn to make sure the waitress isn’t standing behind me before I ask my next question. If I understood him correctly, it explained everything.

  "So, Eli was technically involved with drugs but only because he was undercover?"

  Barton nods, setting his fork down. "He said no at first, but he already had all the access. Eduardo befriended him, and there was an opportunity there. Eli eventually agreed to do it."

  My brother knew better than to mess around with drugs or criminals, but I could see him doing it if it meant those people would go to jail. But he must have known the risks. Now it made sense why he'd broken up with Ava. He never would have wanted her to get caught up in something like this. He was protecting her.

  "So, El Jefe found out that Eli was working undercover?" My voice comes out softer than I intended. If Eli died because h
e was trying to help the DEA, my parents need to know. Ava needs to know. This changes everything.

  Barton drums his fingers on the tabletop. He seems pretty fidgety from all the caffeine and sugar.

  "I'm not one hundred percent sure, but that's my best guess. Either that, or he asked one too many questions and they took care of him as a precaution."

  The words “took care of him” make me flinch. Will Eli’s death ever hurt less?

  We sit quietly for a moment. Barton sips his coffee and continues to drum on the table as he finishes his pie. Meanwhile, I’m trying to pull together all the threads from my so-called investigation and compare them with what Barton told me. But something still doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m missing a big part of the picture.

  "I just can't wrap my brain around this. He kept this a secret from everyone. This whole time, people think he's just a screw up, and in reality he's helping gather evidence on the people behind the poison on the streets?"

  "Yeah, he was being pretty heroic, if you ask me. Not many people would do what he did." Barton puts both hands around his coffee cup as if to warm himself from a chill. "Look, Nicole. Miss Scott. I'm sorry about Eli. It's my fault for asking him to help me. I know that. But I can’t undo the past. I just wish I could do something for your family."

  "Knowing the truth helps. More than you know."

  We sit for a minute sipping our coffee, but I can tell Barton has more he wants to ask. When he finally does, I'm not prepared for it.

  "I wasn't honest earlier. I know all about Xavier. In fact, I already knew you've been seeing him, because I've been following him."

  My blood runs cold. Does this mean Xavier’s a suspect? "What? Why?"

  "He seems to fit the profile for El Jefe perfectly. I've been suspicious of him from the start of all this, but especially over the last few months as he’s been running some big shipments in and out of the port." He pauses to let it sink in. "Eli had gotten close to Eduardo. He'd met Xavier a couple times, and he partied with them on the yacht and at the club once he quit. But I don’t know enough. And right now, my access is gone."