Trial by Blood

by William Bernhardt

  He whirled around to face the third man, Mr. UPS—

  But too late. The tire iron clubbed him on the side of his head. The dock rose up to greet his face. He attempted to break his fall, but he was too slow. Another blow to the head followed. Flashes of light erupted before his eyes.

  He tried to roll over, but before he could, he felt a heavy boot in his ribs. Something broke, he was certain of it.

  He needed to do something fast or he was dead. But he couldn’t move, couldn’t even roll over on his side. He should call out for help. But that seemed too hard, too impossible. If this were a movie, the cavalry would come running to his rescue about now.

  But no one came.

  Two more kicks followed, another to the ribs, then another between the legs. He cried out, high-pitched and tortured. He was completely paralyzed, helpless, unable to do anything but take the punishment.

  The three men surrounded him, brutal, angry, raining their fists and boots down upon him, punching and kicking all at once. They were doing more than just completing an assignment. They were doing it with pleasure. They were angry. And they weren’t worried about leaving a mark.

  Someone’s fist collided with his face. His lower lip split. He tasted blood.

  He saw the tire iron coming down again. He could register it, but he couldn’t raise a hand to stop it. The last thing he remembered was the sight of that deadly metal baton headed for his brain.

  And then, nothing at all.

  The Trouble with Knowing

  Chapter 29

  Camila sat bolt upright in her bed. Something was wrong. She knew it. She couldn’t explain how she knew. But she did.

  She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging on the wall beside her bed. She looked a mess. Good thing tv cameras couldn’t get in here. She’d been sleeping hard.

  And yet, something awakened her. Something...not right.

  Or maybe, girl, you just don’t like sleeping alone. Maybe you’ve become accustomed to that warm male body snuffling and snorting and snuggled up close.

  A horrifying thought. What would her #MeToo pals think about that?

  An even worse thought—maybe her feelings were hurt because it appeared Dan was capable of getting through the night without her.

  No, that wasn’t it. She understood. He had to focus on the case. He would stay up late and get up early. He didn’t need distractions. She would feel the same way if this were the night before an election...

  Except that wasn’t even true. If this were the night before an election, she’d want him close. They be watching the returns roll in, probably hand in hand...

  She pounded a fist against the mattress. She shouldn’t feel like this! But she did.

  Men. Why couldn’t she make do with a dog?

  And why couldn’t she shake this feeling that something was wrong? Was her subconscious sending her a message? To be fair, Dan was constantly threatened (as was she) and they’d learned to live with it. Then again, he had been attacked recently...

  She checked the clock on the end table. Almost four in the morning. Heck, Dan was probably awake, wondering if he could squeeze in some kitesurfing before he dressed for court.

  But still...

  She grabbed her cell and punched the buttons.

  She needed to hear his voice, that was all. Then she’d put her head back on the pillow and sleep much better...

  He didn’t answer.

  That was weird. She knew he slept with his phone nearby, and that he left the sound on, and that he’d given her a distinct ringtone—the main theme from Wonder Woman. Given how small the bedroom on that boat was, he couldn’t miss it. Even if he decided to turn the ringer off, he’d probably feel the vibration.

  The call switched to his voicemail. “Talk is cheap. Leave your name at the beep.”

  That was her Dan. So full of social grace...

  But no answer.

  Ok, now she was officially worried. She called again and he still didn’t pick up.

  She glanced at the clock. Even if she threw on some clothes and left, it would take her almost half an hour to get to the marina. But Maria’s apartment was only a few blocks away.

  Count on a girlfriend. Despite the early hour, Maria picked up on the second ring.

  Her instincts were good, too. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t get Dan on the phone. Maybe he’s screening his calls—”

  “From you?”

  “Maybe he lost his phone.”

  “No chance.” She could hear movement on the other end of the line. “Already half-dressed. I can be at the marina in five.”

  “Thank you so much, Maria. It’s probably no big deal.”

  “If it were no big deal, you wouldn’t have called. I’ll get back to you as soon as I know something.”

  * * *

  Maria loved St. Petersburg, but she was not a fan of any city in the pre-dawn hours of the morning. Something about darkness left her feeling vulnerable. Sure, she was a modern independent woman and she could handle herself...but still. Unidentified noises. Sparse light. Staggering drunks. Creeptastic.

  She left her car and jogged across the street. If she had to be up this time of the morning, she might as well get in a little exercise. She could skip the workout that probably would’ve gotten pushed aside anyway to make more time for fretting uselessly about the trial.

  Truth was, she’d been worried about Dan ever since the incident with the fake UPS man. That sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to lawyers. Maybe to criminals and Mafioso. Maybe in cop shows or John Wick movies. But not to lawyers. Not to someone who isn’t guilty of anything other than doing his job. Well.

  Dan was impossible and quirky and full of himself—or pretended to be. But he was also whip-smart and dedicated and at times, when they sat quietly at the table working, she saw traces of the little boy who lost his father so tragically at far too young an age. She liked that boy, and she liked what he had become. Instead of letting it destroy him, he used it to turn himself into something important, something that mattered. He made himself one of the strongest, most courageous people she knew.

  She liked working with him. She liked having him on her team.

  She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him.

  She remembered that first time she’d gone to Beachcomber’s to recruit him and he, predictably, tried to pick her up. She had to put him down hard, but at the same time...she was a little tempted. He was older and had wildly different tastes. But still. Smart is sexy.

  Whatever. That ship sailed a long time ago. They were best pals and partners and she even thought of him as the brother she never had. She thought her late father would approve of that appointment. He saw far too many of his immigrant friends abused and mistreated by government officials. He would’ve admired Dan just as much as she did.

  Maybe the reason she liked Dan was that, in a way, they had so much in common. Dan lost his father—which changed the direction of his entire life—and she worshipped her father who worked so hard to give her everything she could want—which changed the direction of her entire life.

  Please God. Let Dan be out for a run or surfing or picking up chicks at that strip joint. Anything. Anything safe.

  She rounded the corner and raced up the boardwalk. She knew where The Defender was docked well enough to find it with her eyes closed. The gate was locked—so what? A child could get over that. She leapt the gate without even slowing down. She turned toward the sailboat—

  And stopped cold.

  Oh my God. Oh no. Oh my God no.

  Dan!

  * * *

  Jimmy raced down the hospital corridor. He knew his belly was swaying back and forth like a Tupperware bowl of Jell-O—and he didn’t care.

  He ran to the administrator’s station in the center of the corridor. “Which room?”

  He didn’t have to explain. Everyone knew Jimmy. “412.”

  “Thanks.” He raced down the hall
. As soon as his husband Luke called to tell him Dan had been admitted, he jumped into the car and hadn’t stopped moving since. Only once had he glanced at his phone—

  And saw that it was filled with text messages and voicemail from Maria. He listened to the first one while he drove.

  “They tried to kill Dan. He’s in Kindred Hospital. He’s alive, just barely. Come as soon as you can.”

  He didn’t need to hear anything more. He rounded the corner, then slowed and gently pushed open the door.

  Maria, Garrett, and Camila all stood on the far side.

  Dan lay on the bed, a tube in his mouth and all kinds of wires connected to his body. His eyes were shut and covered by black circles. His neck and arms were bruised. His mouth looked wrong, lopsided. His abdomen was bandaged. His face was pale.

  He looked like a corpse.

  “Is he—Is he—?”

  “He was barely alive when I called 911,” Maria said quietly. “He was concussed and losing blood. If I hadn’t found him when I did...”

  “And that wasn’t soon enough,” Camila said. “I should’ve called earlier.”

  “You couldn’t possibly know.”

  “I should’ve been with him. I never should’ve left him alone.”

  “If you’d been with him,” Garrett said somberly, “you’d probably be in the hospital now too.”

  “When did this happen?” Jimmy asked.

  “After Dan left the office,” Garrett explained. “And that was after midnight. I saw him leave because—”

  “I know. You never sleep. What happened?”

  “Apparently someone met him at the boat,” Maria explained. “They didn’t leave a calling card. He’s been unconscious since I found him, lying in a pool of his own blood and broken in about a dozen places.”

  Jimmy’s lips trembled. “Who—Who’s looking after him and—”

  “I have the best doctors in the city on this,” Camila explained.

  “What do they say?”

  “Three severe blows to the head. They used some kind of metal weapon. He probably has a concussion, which may be why he doesn’t wake up. Two broken ribs. Bruising all over his body. Someone knocked out a tooth, which he almost choked on.”

  Jimmy closed his eyes tightly. “Why?”

  Maria shook her head. “We assume it was related to the case. Someone did not want him to appear in the courtroom today.”

  “I think they wanted him dead,” Garrett said. “And if you hadn’t shown up when you did, he would be.”

  “I should’ve known this would happen,” Jimmy said, wiping tears from his eyes. “Especially after that fake UPS guy attacked him. I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve hired security. Should’ve had him watched night and day.”

  “Dan would never have agreed to that.”

  “I should’ve done it anyway.”

  Maria walked around the bed and placed her hand on his shoulder. “There’s no point in blaming yourself, Jimmy. We all could’ve done more. But we didn’t. We’ve had threats before. We had no way of knowing that...it would escalate so dramatically.”

  “It’s our business to know.” He pounded a fist into his hand. “This is Sweeney’s work. He’s the one who needs a pounding. I’m gonna burn that bastard’s palace to the ground.”

  “We don’t know Sweeney’s behind this,” Garrett said.

  “Don’t we?”

  “No. Sadly, there are many possibilities. Don’t do anything rash that makes the situation worse.”

  “He’s right.” Maria hugged Jimmy tight. “That won’t make it better.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  “Wait. Hope. Pray.”

  “We can’t lose Dan. He’s our team leader. He’s our Cragheart. He’s—He’s—” Jimmy wiped more tears away. “He’s our Aquaman.”

  “I know,” Maria said, dabbing at her own red eyes. “I know.”

  Chapter 30

  The first thing he registered was the light. Bright white hot harsh light. Bearing down on him, unrelentingly.

  Stop. Make that go away. He was fine where he was.

  The darkness had been more comfortable. Calm, reassuring. Even pleasant, in a way. Drifting in the void. No stress. Perpetual calm.

  Emptiness.

  He and his father were having a chat. Everything I did, I did for a reason. No conflict. Acceptance. Only smiles, no regrets. At some point in everyone’s life, they decide who they want to be. They make a choice.

  But that light wouldn’t let him go. And there was more. Something else intruded on his reverie.

  Pain. All over his body, but especially in the center. His stomach. Hurt like hell. And his head. Throbbed. Pulsed like a rhythm instrument.

  He tried to move, but even trying hurt, and he didn’t get anywhere. Maybe that could wait.

  The light grew brighter, and all at once, he realized that he had opened his eyes.

  “Dan? Are you awake? Dan?”

  He found it required effort to speak. Each syllable grated. Enunciation was almost impossible with swollen lips. Something was wrong with his mouth. It felt as if...something was missing. “Would someone...turn off the damn lights?”

  “He’s awake!” He heard someone clap hands together. “Say something.”

  “I just did.”

  “I think you’re awake. Are you awake?”

  “My eyes are open.”

  “You’ve done that before. The docs said it was an autonomic response. Didn’t mean you’d regained consciousness. But now you’re speaking!”

  “And asking you...to turn off the damn lights.”

  “Now you’re speaking and complaining! You are back!”

  He could barely turn his head, just enough to see Camila and Maria embracing.

  “What happened?”

  “You don’t remember?” Camila said. “The docs warned us you might suffer some memory loss.”

  He paused for a moment, drew in his breath, and tried to focus. “We were prepping for trial. Oh my God.” He tried to sit up, but couldn’t. “The trial. I need to get to the courthouse.”

  He felt a firm hand on his chest. Jimmy. “Slow down, cowboy. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “But the trial—”

  “Has been postponed.”

  “Fine.” He did feel stiff and wasn’t anxious to get out of bed. “But first thing Tuesday morning.”

  A silence filled the room.

  Garrett was the first to speak. “Dan—it’s Thursday.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve been unconscious for more than three days,” Garrett said. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

  He closed his eyes and thought as hard as he could. “I finished working. Really more worrying than working. Left the office. After midnight. Walked home. Got to the boat.” His eyes opened. “Three men. There were three men waiting for me.”

  “Did you recognize them?” Camila asked.

  “One was the fake UPS man. The other two were new.”

  “Would you recognize them if you saw them again?” Maria asked.

  “Definitely.” He sighed. “But I won’t. Probably in another county by now. I tried to fight back, but it was dark and I was outnumbered...” He frowned.

  “No shame, dude,” Jimmy said. “It was a sneak attack. And they apparently had a weapon. Pummeled you on the head. What was that—a baseball bat?”

  “Tire iron. I distinctly remember the tire iron.” Just thinking about it made the pain intensify.

  Maria pushed a button beside his bed. “The docs told us to alert them if you woke.”

  “If?” He tried to sit up again. “Who are these docs?”

  Camila cut in. “That is a complicated story. As soon as I heard you were hurt, I contacted the people I know to be the best physicians in the city.” She chuckled. “But when Mr. K found out what happened, he called my bet and raised it. Flew in some of the best physicians in the nation.”

  “Really?”

&
nbsp; “Mayo Clinic. Cleveland Clinic. The President of the United States doesn’t have better doctors.”

  He thought for a moment. “Then why do I hurt so damn much?”

  “You’ve got two broken ribs,” Maria explained. “They’re wrapped, but apparently there’s not much the docs can do except keep it all aligned and wait for them to knit naturally. They’ll give you something for the pain if you want but...it’s still gonna hurt.”

  “And you lost a tooth,” Jimmy added. “And you have two black eyes, head injuries that bled like crazy, and severe contusions and lacerations all over your body.”

  “Apparently they didn’t want me to forget the beating,” he muttered.

  “I think they wanted you dead,” Garrett said. “You just got lucky. These two wonderful women saved your bacon.”

  “Not for the first time.” He smiled as much as he could muster. “Thanks, wonderful women.”

  “Don’t worry,” Camila said, “I’ll be expecting some payback in the near future. When you’re...you know. Hardy again.”

  Jimmy covered his ears. “Ick. Please stop.”

  Camila laughed. “What?”

  “It’s like hearing Mom and Dad talk about getting it on. Please.”

  Dan laughed—then regretted it. He turned his head as far as he could manage. He found a mirror on the right, just over a cabinet.

  He did look like hell. And he hurt like hell too.

  And then it came back to him, in one terrifying, horrifying wash of painful memory. Every moment. Every blow. As if it were happening all over again. The sadist in the center with the ham-sized fists. The tire iron. The way they kept kicking him even after he was down, after the misery was so intense he couldn’t even scream any more. He was completely helpless, more a baby than a man.

  He felt tears wash into his eye sockets. Stop, he told himself. Not with all these people around. He visited his father a hundred times while he was in prison, and did his father ever cry? The man never even complained.

  His father. Something triggered inside his head. It was almost as if they’d just been chatting. But that was completely impossible...

  “Do the police have any idea who did this or why?”