by David Banner
"I don't need one. He'll want to hear what I have to say. Its about a case he's working on. But I don't have all day, in three minutes I'll take my information elsewhere. The information I have will rock this Island. Do you have a restroom?" I said.
"Yes, second door on the left." She pointed down the hall.
I quickly walked down the hall, pulled the small pebble from my pocket and wedged it between the door, propping it open before stopping by the restroom and snapping the PVC pipe below the toilet. Now I just had to get this guy out, then Hope could copy the drive and then we would be done and I could finally start trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
"I told him you were here,” the receptionist said. "He'll be right with you."
"That bathroom is disgusting!" I said. "There's water leaking everywhere. I'll be waiting outside."
In a flash the small woman jumped out from behind her desk and went sprinting for the restroom. And as I walked out the door I could see Hope coming up the side. If there was one thing I knew about lawyers it was that they missed no chance to get in early on a little dirt. I waited outside trying to look as impatient as I could.
About a minute later Johnathon Hall came bounding out of his office, smiling at me. "I hear you've got big news?"
"I do,” I said flatly. "Follow me."
We made our way down the street to the parked car we had taken from Jeff’s. It seemed like everyone I had encountered the last few days had shady unused cars just lying around in case they had to make a sudden run or something. Then a memory hit me, out of nowhere. The whole time we were growing up there were cars in our garage that we never used.
The models and colors would change every so often, one never staying for too long. I even remembered seeing them down near The Keys. We would always stop at this little house on our way down. My dad would go into the garage, start some random car, let it idle for a little while then turn it off and we'd leave again. I remembered asking my mother about them from time to time. She would always tell me they belonged to a friend and that we were keeping them at our house for a little while. I never gave it much thought back then, but now it suddenly made much more sense.
"Look at this!" I said, popping open the trunk and showing him the small black duffle.
"I... I don't understand,” he said, looking at the guns.
"They're Jeff’s,” I said.
"Jeff... Halson's?” the lawyer said, swallowing hard and backing away.
"Wanna guess how I got them?" I asked.
"Not really,” he said, staring at me for a minute. "Wait... I know you—”
Johnathon turned on his heels and began running, I had no choice but to follow and try and take him down. It wasn't the best plan, it may have actually been the worst. But there was no way he wasn't going to go back into that office and realize his computer had been wiped. At least if he was with me and Hope I could make sure he didn't call the police. Hope and I could make it out of there without the police ever being the wiser.
"Stop!" I say, lunging forward and tackling him to the ground.
From my pocket I pulled out the rag and held it over his mouth and nose until he stopped moving. Then I picked him up and carried him back to the car. After using the rope to tie his hands and feet I placed him in the backseat and latched his seatbelt. Quickly hopping behind the wheel of the car I pulled a little closer to the side door I knew Hope had gone in.
The seconds ticked by like hours as my eyes darted back and forth between the clock and the door. It felt like the world had stopped spinning. We needed to get out of there, that’s all I knew. We needed to get out before anyone realized what was happening and before Johnathon came to.
Just as my head felt like it was about to explode I saw Hope come barreling out of the office like a bat out of hell. "Drive!" she yelled.
"Did you get it?" I asked.
"Yeah, I got it,” she said breathlessly. "But I tripped an alarm doing it. This guy has some hi-tech security for such a small office. I'm not sure what he's up to in there, but it ain't civil disputes. I promise you."
"It’s okay,” I said. "It'll probably take them a few minutes to get here. We can make it."
"I tripped the alarm four minutes ago,” she said.
"What?” I asked, realizing there was no way we were gonna get out without the police knowing now and wishing I had left Johnathon Hall on the sidewalk.
"I had to wait for the copy to finish,” she said. "You're in it."
"In what?" I said.
"I'm not sure," she said. "But I saw a picture of the woman they said your brother killed. And I saw your name."
"You think it’s connected to me?" I asked.
"To you and your brother," she said. "I'm just not sure how yet."
"Look!" Hope exclaimed, pointing to the end of the street where a line of police cars sat, blocking the way to bridge.
"Fuck!" I said. "There's no other way off of this island.
"There's another bridge!" she said, turning her head to look back. "It’s back there."
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Yeah. I'm positive. Now drive!" she said.
I pulled a hard left and headed for the other end of the island, though I knew in my heart that they had most likely blocked that bridge too.
"That information you have is important. I don't know what it is, but I know it might free my brother and help find the truth behind all of this. You have gotta get off of this island no matter what,” I said.
"So do you,” she said.
"I can't decrypt the information. I don't know how and you’re the only one I trust enough to do it,” I said, pulling her forward and pressing my lips against hers. "Promise me that whatever is on there you'll use it to find a way to clear Micah. Forget about me, Hope,” I said, then took a hard turn to the right.
"What are you doing?" she yelled.
"This is the only way,” I said, steering the car on the white sand of the beach.
My actions sent the crowds of people running and screaming into a world of chaos and confusion. Which would make the perfect cover for Hope seeing as how I wasn't completely sure the cops even knew she was with me.
"Get off of this island,” I said, pulling the door handle and pushing her out onto the wet sand.
I quickly steered my way back onto the road and slammed on brakes. In what I would later remember as both the bravest and stupidest thing I've ever done I hopped out of the car and held my hands over my head. A few seconds later I was being slammed face down on the hood and read my rights as cold silver handcuffs closed around my wrists.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"O KAY..." SAID A DETECTIVE AS HE WALKED INTO THE INTERROGATION ROOM. "Why don't you tell me what happened?”
"I don't know,” I said.
"We've got you for kidnapping,” he said. "Unless by some miracle Johnathon Hall decides not to press charges. But from the look of him I doubt he got in that car with you voluntarily."
"I'm being set up,” I said.
"So, someone else put him in that car with you and forced you to go speeding down the road?" he asked.
"No," I said. "That’s not what I'm talking about. I mean the whole thing, I'm being set up for all of it. I had nothing to do with that body."
"Then why did you run?" he asked. "Normally, if someone finds a body they call the police. You ran from the police then skipped town."
"I told you. I am being framed for this,” I said. "We both are."
"I assume you're talking about your little brother?" he said. "I heard about him. The Miami-Dade PD told me they've got some good evidence on him. Eyewitnesses, DNA... the whole package."
"My brother is innocent,” I said. "And so am I."
"Alright, son," he said, lowering his voice. "Tell me why someone would try and frame you? You're a nobody."
"That’s the thing,” I said. "I have no idea. None of this makes any sense."
"It sure doesn't..." he said.
"
Listen," I felt my cheeks redden. "You gotta believe me. I didn't do this."
"I have to follow the evidence,” he said. "And the evidence is telling me you're guilty."
"Why would I want to kill a person I've never met?" I asked. "I have no idea who that woman was or how she ended up in my house."
"That woman was Miranda Morris, the estate agent you met with the day before she turned up dead in your house,” he said.
"Wait... What?" I said. "Miranda Morris was killed on the beach in Miami... right?"
"No," he said, looking almost as confused as me. "Miranda Morris was found dead on the floor of the house you had inherited after your parents were declared dead."
"Then what about Micah?" I asked.
"From what I can gather," he said. "The woman your brother is being held for murdering is still listed as Jane Doe."
I was so confused. I had met with Miranda Morris myself. I had stayed late at the Miami police station to ID her. The woman I found dead in the kitchen was most certainly not Miranda Morris. They looked nothing alike and besides, according to the Miami PD my brother was responsible for her death. "I think you've got it backwards,” I said. "Miranda Morris was found dead on Miami Beach."
"No," he answered. "Miranda Morris is here, in the Anna Maria Island morgue."
"That doesn’t make any sense,” I said.
"I don't know what kind of game you’re trying to play here, son,” he said. "But you need to make this easy on yourself and start coming off of some information. You need to be honest. For your own sake just tell me what actually happened in that house and tell me why you were here today kidnapping the mayor's son."
"The mayor's son?" I asked.
"Johnathon Hall," he said flatly. "Son of James Hall. The current mayor of Anna Maris Island."
"What...?” I muttered to myself.
What in the hell had I gotten myself into? How was it that I was on the line for involvement with two separate murders in two separate cities and kidnapping the island mayor’s lawyer son? What was happening? My head started to pound from all the stress and I fell quiet. At that point I just didn't know what to say. I sat back, trying to figure out what to say or at that point, what not to say. I began thinking that maybe it was time I gave up on trying to be my parents and just ask for a lawyer.
I obviously wasn't cut out for this, I had flown into this thing blind, with only the basic skills my parents taught me and immediately started making things worse. I had only been on Anna Maria Island for a few minutes when a body turned up at my feet. Couple that with the fact that both times I had crossed the bridge it had ended in a high-speed police chase and I really did look guilty.
"Excuse me, Detective Barns..." another officer said from the door.
"Yes," he said in a frustrated tone. "I'm in the middle of an interrogation."
"Mayor Hall has just arrived. He'd like to speak to Mr. Waters,” the detective said.
"Mayor Hall?" Detective Barns said in a confused tone. "Tell him not to come, this is really police business. I'll meet with him later today if—”
"He's already in the building,” the officer said. "He didn't really give a heads up or anything."
It must have been less than a minute later that Mayor James Hall came walking into the interrogation room. He was a tall man, with a large burly frame. The kind of person who looked like they used to spend a lot of time in the gym and were still carrying around residual muscle from the days before they were too busy for working out.
He wore a black pinstriped suit with a black shirt and deep maroon tie. He turned his attention immediately to Detective Barns, not giving me so much as a second look.
"I know this is odd,” he said. "The mayor showing up at an interrogation, but these are special circumstances. We haven't seen disturbances like this in ten years."
"Yes, Mayor Hall," Barnes nodded. "But you've walked into the middle of an interrogation. Maybe you could give Mr. Waters here a little while longer to finish his story before speaking to him."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible,” the mayor said. "I've spoken to the district attorney and due to the special and unusual nature of Mr. Waters’s actions on this island we believe it’s better that I speak to him directly."
"Sir," the detective said. "That would be far outside of normal procedure. Persons of interest should be speaking with a detective present."
"Yes," smiled Mayor Hall, placing his hand on the detective's shoulder. "I'm aware of that, but as I said I've spoken to the DA and we both agree."
"I don't like this,” Detective Barns said.
"I know," the mayor said, opening the door. "But for now, this is the way this needs to happen."
I watched as Mayor Hall closed the door behind Detective Barns, then turned to finally look at me. He stared at me for a moment, almost speaking, then not. But after minute or two he finally got down to business. "Look," he said. "I'm going to make you a deal. A great deal. A far better deal than you deserve."
"Why would you do that?" I asked.
"Let's just say I'm a generous man, son," he said, shaking his head at me in a way that told me everything I needed to know about him. The look on his face; it was like he owned me. Not only that, but he relished the idea.
"Somehow I doubt that," I answered, though I probably shouldn't have. Maybe I was finally becoming my parents' son, but I was willing to turn down a sweet plea deal if I could have the chance to figure out why it was offered in the first place. Besides, I hadn't done this and, more important than my freedom, was getting justice for the two women who had died on what was basically my watch.
"Doubt it’s all you'd like," he answered. "But, play your cards right, and you'll be doubting as a free man in less than seven years."
Seven years. The words reverberated against my brain every bit as hard as the cuffs had tightened against my wrists earlier. In seven years, I would be on the far side of thirty. In seven years, my brother would be a damned stranger to me. In seven years, the entire world could be different. I didn't have seven years to give to this. Hell, I had already given it too much of my time.
"Go to hell," I answered, folding my arms over my chest and giving him a look that would break glass.
"Is that what you told poor Ms. Morris before you plunged that knife into her chest?" he asked, almost smiling at in a perverse show of power.
"I never touched that woman," I answered, anger mixing with fear and frustration as I slammed my hands against the table. None of this made sense. I had knocked out this man's son. I had kidnapped him, for lack of a better word. Why the hell was he so intent on giving me a good plea deal, especially if the evidence against me, as he said, was so solid?
"So I've heard," the mayor answered. "I wonder if a jury of your peers will believe that. Somehow, given the reputation your brother has garnered all over the news recently, I doubt that."
"Why would I agree to that, you know given the fact I'm innocent and all?" I said, looking into his demeaning eyes.
"Because no one else on this Earth is going to believe that you're innocent." He smiled wide. "You could go singing that song from the tallest church steeple in Florida, but it's not going to get you anywhere... not on Anna Maria Island. It’s a quiet place and the people that live here like to keep it that way. You, Mr. Waters, have brought a ruckus with you."
"I'm not the one who started the ruckus,” I said. "All I did was walk into a house I didn't even know I had."
"And how did Mrs. Morris get there?" he said. "You bring her with you from Miami?"
"I have no idea how that woman got there. Miranda Morris was heading to Little Havana the last time I saw her,” I said. "And by the way, that woman in my house. That isn't Miranda Morris. I met Miranda Morris."
"Don't let your story fall apart on you there now,” he said with a crooked smile.
"It’s the truth, and the truth doesn't change,” I said.
"Listen," he said. "Sleep on it. Your court hearing is at 10:45
tomorrow morning. If I were you, I'd take the deal."
"I'm not taking shit!" I said angrily. "I didn't do this. The truth will come out."
With that he turned and headed for the door. "It's like trying to talk to a turtle in the rain..." he whispered to himself.
The words sent me traveling back fifteen years. Those were the words my father would use when trying to explain something to Micah and he didn't want to listen. I once asked him what it meant. He asked me go outside in the rain and try to convince a turtle to come out of its shell. “That’s what it’s like talking to your brother,” he'd say. I once even asked him where he heard such a saying. “I made it up,” he said.
So how was it that I was hearing those words again, and in this place? It was no coincidence and I knew it. It was in that moment that the words came crashing down on me like a wave on the shore. It was all so much bigger than I thought it was. Everything I had been through in the last week. It was all connected to my parents... to my parents and the man standing across from me right now.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
S LEEP DIDN'T COME EASY THAT NIGHT AS THE CONFUSION I HAD BEEN FEELING OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS BEGAN TO TURN INTO SOMETHING ELSE, SOMETHING MORE LIKE ANGER. Since this all started I never once assumed it had anything to do with my parents, but after hearing Mayor Hall speak those words, I couldn't think about anything else.
People would have probably said I was crazy for stitching the ten-year-old disappearance of my parents together with what was going on now. But I was right, I could feel it in my bones. It still didn't make sense, I still didn't know the reasons behind it all, but at least now I could attach the action to something instead of trying to convince myself this was all random.
None of this made sense from the start, but the thing that had always felt the most outlandish to me was that someone would just choose my brother and I at random. That part was always the hardest to swallow, but after realizing that all of this started with my parents it was a little easier to choke down.
The loud screech of a buzzer echoed down the hall and into my cell. A few minutes later a tall skinny guard appeared at my cell door. "Waters,” he said. "Come with me."