by Melissa Huie
“The former owner’s grandson used to bounce at a ‘Yankee’s, a strip club located on the ‘The Block’ off Gay Street. After looking into the grandson, we realized that there’s no way he could’ve gotten an SUV with his shit credit. We figured he stole his grandfather’s info. But that’s not what tipped our hand. Guess who owns ‘Yankee’s?” he teased.
I sighed heavily. “Christian Cruz?” I guessed.
“Close. Try Tomas Cruz, the son of Christian Cruz and the CEO of Cruz, Inc.— a legit investment firm in New York City. More than likely, that investment firm is a front. The mother fucker is the face of the company, signing all the legal paperwork while daddy does the actual deals. Because of the potential connection to the Cruz Cartel, the FBI is taking lead. Your boy Tommy is going to be busy for a while.” Cole smirked, keeping the bag of peas on his face.
“When is he not busy? I’m just glad they finally have something to go on,” I mutter, playing with the placemat.
“I have to say, having Shane take a look at the truck was pure genius on Kyle’s part. We probably would have figured it out, but Shane saved everyone at least two weeks of investigation,” Cole remarked, getting another beer from the fridge. Kyle, remembering what Shane had said about Cartel’s custom BCBG rims, encouraged Detective Ford to talk with Shane. Thanks to Shane’s history with the Cartel, he was able to confirm that the rims on the burnt out SUV was in fact, the same rims that was at the safe-house after the explosion, and the same custom rims that the Cartel requires their upper level management to have on their vehicles.
Huh. I guess Shane’s involvement is proving somewhat useful, besides being a pain in my ass.
“So what happened to your truck?” I asked, remembering the monitor.
“The ass-clowns who jumped me punctured three of my tires. Sketch came and I grabbed his truck while he waited for the tow. I did a roundabout trip to get here, to make sure no one was following me.” Cole stood and poured the rest of Aunt Nancy’s apple pie cider into the sink. “That stuff is dangerous.”
“What now?” I inquired. “How much longer are we going to have to sit on pins and needles?”
Cole shrugged. “Well, that depends on what happens with Shane, Rick, and the informant. From what Rick tells me, this dude is legit and is more than willing to squeal for the right price.”
A thought occurred to me. “Is Tommy in the know? I mean, does he know about your and Shane’s involvement?”
Cole thought for a minute, closing his eyes. “Doubt it. When I spoke with Kate earlier today, she was hell-bent on keeping any sort of info away from Tommy.”
I smacked the table in frustration. “Why? What the hell is the purpose of keeping this from him? Especially now that the FBI has reinvested the energy into the Cartel case?”
Cole scowled. “Kate is going with her instincts. She doesn’t trust Tommy.”
“Why not? Is there something you all aren’t telling me?”
Cole heaved a heavy sigh. “Kate has been looking at all the angles down in Miami. She traced a few of the mid-level Cartel guys to a boat slip in a Miami Beach marina. In her findings, she noticed that the marina was owned by CTG Holding Company. The same marina that a large forty foot yacht was docked in.”
I shrugged. “Okay. What does that have to do with Tommy?”
Cole rubbed his beard. “Most of Tommy’s investments are in some way affiliated with CTG Holdings. His grandfather was on the board of directors of CTG Holdings.”
Not knowing where this was going, I shook my head. “They have a lot money and investments, I’m not surprised that they have a marina,” I retorted, confused at where this line of investigation was going.
“Yeah, but the funny thing was, the suspect she was tracking had no trouble walking around as if he owned the yachts. Now, this isn’t conclusive. Who knows what kind of background check they do on slip rentals. So it could be all one big coincidence. But …” his voice trailed off.
“But you don’t believe in coincidences.” I finished, my voice faltering. “Do you really think Tommy’s grandfather was with the Cartel?”
“Not sure, but it’s one more piece of the puzzle. An ever increasing puzzle.”
I groaned and buried my face in my hands. “Until we have a witness and a smoking gun, we’re going be running from the Cartel for the rest of our lives.”
“God, I hope not. Life wouldn’t be worth living if you’re constantly in fear.” Cole surmised.
I stood up and stretched. “I’m going to bed. Are you going to be up for a while?”
“Darlin’, I’m not here to sleep. Once Kyle or Shane comes back, I’ll head out to the guest house.”
I smiled. “Well thanks for coming over. Good night.”
Cole smiled and tipped the brim of his baseball cap. “Good night Megs.”
I left Cole in the kitchen and ambled up the stairs. The moon, full and bright, was glistening off the West River. The steady buzz of the cicadas and the whirl of the air conditioning unit provided the soundtrack for the night. I checked on Katie, sleeping on her tummy with her little bum in the air, blissfully unaware about how dangerous our lives are. If only it was that easy, to sleep the fear away.
I climbed into bed, and sent Shane a goodnight message. I didn’t expect a text back; he was probably just arriving in Camden to meet with Rick. My body was exhausted but my mind wouldn’t stop reeling as I tossed and turned. Living like this is going to push me to the brink of insanity. I would love to get away from all this madness. At least until the bastards are caught. The wheels in my head turned until I was able to fall asleep, dreaming of seagulls and warm sandy beaches.
*****
I woke to Katie talking to herself in her crib, six hours after I fell asleep. I had left the shutters open so the room was filled with the reflections of the rising sun. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I shuffled over to Katie, changed her diaper, and brought her downstairs.
“Morning,” I mumbled to Cole as I passed by the butler’s pantry. He was so engrossed in his laptop that he didn’t even look up. “See Katie, men are addicted to technology the way women are obsessed with handbags, shoes, and smut books,” I whispered in her ear. I grabbed a bottle from the fridge and brought her back into the family room. While Katie ate her breakfast, I flipped on the TV to watch the news.
“Cole, come here and look at this,” I called. The Cartel case was mentioned and an update was just coming in.
“Yeah, I just read a note from Kate. This isn’t good,” Cole cursed, walking into the room.
“What do you mean?” Before Cole could respond, the blonde anchorwoman spoke.
“The Cruz Cartel is notorious in cities such as Philadelphia, Trenton, Camden, and Miami. However, new reports show that the Cruz Cartel is now operating in Baltimore and the surrounding suburbs.”
The camera cut to a press conference held in front of the Maryland State Police Department in Glen Burnie. Detective Ford appeared at the podium.
“We have reason to believe that the death of twenty-eight year old Rachel Marie Morrison and the double homicide at the Double J’s in Edgewater, which took lives of Haley Dale and undercover officer Mark Sinclair, are connected. The clues that we have found point in the direction of the Cruz Cartel. We are asking for the public’s help at this time, to come forward if you have any statements or facts related to these cases. We have a tip line set up and people can remain anonymous. At this time, I’d like to introduce the agency representative we’re working with, Mr. Thomas Greene from the Federal Bureau of Investigations.” Detective Ford stepped back to give Tommy room at the podium. My eyes zeroed in on Tommy, taking in the crisp gray suit and navy blue button- down shirt. His short blond hair was perfectly trimmed and his green eyes sharp as ever. His presence was official, almost political looking.
“Good morning. I’d like to thank the Maryland State Police and the local districts of Crofton, Edgewater, and Baltimore City, for their help in connecting these cases. Now I w
ant to urge all of you out there, to think about what is taking place. These people are hurting our families, our neighborhoods, and even our livelihoods. If you know anything about these cases or have information that could lead to an arrest, please call the number below. Thank you for your help,” Tommy said. I sat back on the couch and turned to Cole, who looked like he wanted to punch the television.
“Explain to me how this is bad?” I asked Cole, as Mom came down the stairs. “Good morning,” I said to her. Not awake until at least two cups of coffee are in her system, my greeting was acknowledge with a flick of the wrist as she went into the kitchen.
“According to Kate and Rick, Tommy now knows everything. Thanks to an IT glitch, he was granted access to a database that Kate set up. She had to bring him up to speed. He knows that we’ve connected his father or his father’s company to the boat slip in Miami. He knows that we’ve connected the Cartel to the club in Baltimore and he knows about the confirmation of rims in Rachel’s homicide. Because of all that, Tommy is now fully aware of Kyle and Shane’s involvement.”
“Look, I know you believe that Tommy would protect his father first, but you’ve got that all wrong. Tommy has never put anything before his allegiance to his country. The mission, the job, the case – all that is number one in his mind. He missed his younger sister’s high-school graduation because he had to take a field test for the FBI. He would miss his own wedding if he were involved in a case.”
Despite our past, I felt the need to defend Tommy. He lived and breathed the cases he worked on. When we were engaged, there were times I wouldn’t see him for days at a time because he was that diligent and loyal to his work. Tommy never left a stone unturned and I couldn’t imagine the betrayal he must have felt when his own former partner told him that his own father, a stuck-up investment banker, could have dealings with the Cruz Cartel.
“You’re probably right. But Kate had her reasons. She wouldn’t get Shane involved if she ultimately didn’t have to. And if she felt she could trust Tommy, she would have told him long ago. Don’t forget, Kate and Rick never found the mole that leaked your location to the Cartel so who the hell knows what’s going to happen when they get wind of Shane’s confirmation of the rims, let alone meeting that informant in New Jersey?”
My stomach dropped. Fuck, this is never going to end. “You don’t think anyone is going to come forward?”
Cole rubbed the day-old stubble on his cheek. “I didn’t say that. The tide could turn one of three ways. Either justice or greed will prevail—pushers get turned in and the public outcry forces the Cartel out of Maryland. Or they scatter in the wind like they did the last time, making it more difficult to put any more pieces together. Or they lay low and go after everyone and anyone who could name them in a case. We won’t know what will happen, until it happens.”
Great. I thought about it for a minute; then Katie squawked, needing to be burped. Patting her back, I looked out the expansive picture window overlooking the river. Everything was serene and quiet. How long will it take for our lives to be the same?
Cole received a text. Checking it, he grinned. “Your man is five minutes away. Hopefully he has some good news for us.”
“He better,” I replied dryly. I stood and placed Katie in her portable swing, then headed into the kitchen for much needed caffeine. Mom was sitting at the table, nursing her mug.
“I’m somewhat coherent now. Did I hear you all mention something about ‘justice or greed’ prevailing? Or was I still half asleep?” she asked tiredly.
Cole and I gave her the ten cent version of what happened. My mother never asks for specifics, and only ever wants to be told what she needs to know. She respected the danger Shane, Cole, and Kyle put themselves in and hearing less allows her a little bit more sleep at night. We just finished up when the sensor alerted us to Shane’s truck pulling into the driveway. With a smile, I picked up Katie and met him at the door just as he drove up to the house.
Weary and bone-tired, Shane slowly dragged himself into the house. With a dark stubble dotting his face and wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday, he looked like he went through the hell.
“Hey baby. Are you okay?”
Shane nodded. “I’m just beat. I drove all night to get here.”
Cole came out of the kitchen and gave Shane one of those one arm man hugs. “Shane. How’s Jersey?”
Shane chortled and rolled his eyes. “A fucking mess, as always. Are they always doing highway construction?”
Ignoring their ‘shooting the breeze’ antics, I asked the question everyone was dying to know. “Did you talk to the informant? What did he say?”
Shane sat down on the stairs and shucked off his work boots. “Yeah, I spoke with him. I had not met him before, but he heard about me through his dealings with the hierarchy. That’s why he asked for me by name. Rick promised him witness protection and he sang like a bird. He had trip logs, phone numbers and hierarchies, firsthand accounts of drug transactions. He’ll tell us whatever we want to know.”
Jubilation coursed through me as I let out a yell of relief. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s over?”
Shane’s face turned grave. “It’s not even close to being over. This guy … his name is Henrico Philips. He has names, dates and that’s about it, and anything he gives to us isn’t hard evidence. But this is a big break that the FBI needs. Once they start connecting the dots, that’s when the people will start going away. And you better believe the Cartel is going to be after this guy.
I forced the memory of last summer to the back of my mind. I remembered what it was like, having someone finding out where you were. During my period in protective custody, someone, somehow, found out our location and we barely escaped with our lives. “He will have protection, right?”
Shane nodded. “He’ll be so deep in protection; only a few people will know where he is.”
“Well, we know how well that went last time,” Mom pointed out, refilling her mug from the carafe.
Shane winced. “You’re right about that. From what Kate tells me, the whole incident last summer really turned the whole Witness Protection section around. Security is tighter and there are fewer people in the know.”
“What do we do now? Wait?” Nancy asked, taking the orange juice out of the fridge.
“We wait and stay vigilant. At this point, we have no idea what or if anything is going to come out of this new update. We don’t want to become lax and be taken off guard,” Cole stated, crossing his thick arms.
“So we wait,” Mom said firmly. And so we wait. And go completely insane with cabin fever while we do so.
Chapter 21
One by one, the Cartel’s soldiers came falling down. A week after the FBI’s cry for the public’s help, numerous calls came into the Baltimore field office with tips about the Cartel. Some were phony as a three dollar bill but some actually panned out. These were calls from concerned citizens, tired of the Cartel and gang wreaking havoc in their neighborhoods. Community groups banded together to push out the drugs and the gun-fights, and they were making progress. Despite Cole’s insistence that we needed to stay vigilant and stand our guard, the information coming from Tommy and Kate was to the contrary. Tommy was furious at Shane and Cole’s involvement, but there wasn’t anything he could do. According to them, the Cartel leadership had lawyered up and most of the minions were either in jail, dead, or had somehow vanished. Of course, Henrico the driver had not yet testified, but the information he was providing to the FBI was bringing in the rewards.
Unfortunately, the murder of Rachel Morrison was still unsolved. But the FBI, in conjunction with the Maryland State Police and the DEA, pieced together the leads. Tommy was at the forefront of this crusade and I had never been more proud of him. Even Shane had to begrudgingly commend him on the actions he’d taken so far.
Despite all the seemingly good news and progress that were being made, as the days grew longer and the temperature rose, my patience dwindled. Shane a
nd I fought over everything, from the lack of sex, him not getting up with Katie, to him not allowing me to leave the house. The walls of the old house felt like they were closing in on me. I needed to escape. More than that, I needed to breathe.
“Argh, I need a break!” I grumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Katie’s wails grated my poor sleep-deprived mind. Taking my pillow from underneath my head, I unceremoniously wacked Shane on his stomach with it. At nine in the morning, his ass was still in bed. Never mind the fact that Katie had me up for four times in the night, and was fully awake by five-thirty. He can’t hear her cry, yet he can hear the text message alert and be wide awake. I had just put her down forty minutes ago for a much-needed nap.
“Wake up,” I ordered. Shane rolled onto his stomach with a snort. “Shane, I’m not kidding.”
“I got her earlier,” came his mumbled reply.
“For real? We’re keeping track now? You really don’t want to go there with me,” I snapped and got out of bed, crossing over the wide plank wooden floors to her white crib. Katie reached her chubby arms out for me and my heart ached at the sight of her tears. I carried her over to the changing table and undid her pajamas.
“Why don’t we go to beach? Get away from here for a few days.” I offered, in part a peace offering, but mostly to keep him awake.
“Are you serious?” Shane asked, his voice muffled by the pillows.
“Yeah, why the hell not?” I bristled, putting Katie into her third set of pajamas.
For the last two days, my poor baby has had massive explosions in her diaper and her bum was redder than a lobster. I checked her temperature with the ear thermometer. Yep, and a low-grade fever to boot. She screamed when I put a layer of diaper cream and my anxiety rose a bit more. I hated hearing her in pain like this. “Oh baby girl, I know it hurts.”
After putting her down into her crib and cringing at her shrill cries, I dressed quickly, then picked up my tear stained five month old and held her close. As I walked out of the room, I called over my shoulder to Shane, “Get dressed. We’re taking her to the doctor in five minutes.” I didn’t give him the chance to respond. Frankly, I didn’t care if he went with me or not. Hell, the time out of the house without him might do us some good.