Blood Orange

by Brenda Spalding

  "No one knows. I didn't tell anyone."

  "I wish I could believe you. No one will miss Tito. But you . . . you are a big problem. Tito told me about working with the DEA. Of course, I had to loosen his tongue a bit. He told me about the D.C. agents and putting the tracker on my van."

  Santos suddenly turned his attention to Tito and hit him with his fist in the jaw. Tito's head snapped back and forward resting on his chest. He was unconscious.

  "Tell me who you are if you're going to kill me. I deserve to know the name of my murderer," she said with more courage than she felt.

  He strolled around rubbing his chin thinking, "I guess it can't hurt now. My aunt, Rosita, works for you and your grandfather. Since I was going to be around for a while, I needed someplace to live. She and that husband of hers have been after me to get a job. That's funny because I have a job. The Medellin Cartel pays me more than they will ever make.

  “Pablo Escobar came to me himself when I was a boy playing soccer on the dirty streets of Columbia. At first, I was just a runner for the drugs. I worked hard and moved up the ladder. He trusts me with the operation here, and he pays me well. I am only known to the fools that do my bidding. Now you know, and now I must make sure you can't tell anyone."

  Nora was struggling, trying to free her hands, the rough rope chaffing against her wrists. All the while she was trying to keep him talking, stalling for time to figure out a way to save herself, praying that Gabe would come. “No one knows I’m here. Why didn’t I tell Gabe? Because he would have stopped you,” she answered herself.

  "Ok, since you're going to kill me anyway, I'm curious. Why drop the drugs in the orange groves when you can land here?" Nora asked.

  "That old man out there is always around, snooping. He checks out the planes, the hangers. There is nowhere he doesn't stick his nose. We don't keep the drugs at the airport. We drop them and take them to a safe place away from prying eyes. The plane lands, refuels and heads back to Miami for more," he gloated.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gabe, Dan and Agent O'Donnell were jarred as they drove along the rutted road to the airport. Spotting the same entrance Nora had, they followed the road and drove to one of the hangers.

  "Ok, where do we begin?" Dan asked.

  "Let's take a walk around. It's not like there's a lot of places to hide a plane. Only two hangers and a couple of smaller buildings," Gabe suggested.

  "There's a guy over there by that plane. Looks like he might know about what goes on around here." Gina took off in that direction—while Gabe and Dan split up and walked around the hangers.

  Gabe recognized the battered-up farm truck as one he had seen at the Hollister's, parked behind the hanger. "Shit! I'll strangle her when I find her." He walked quickly and caught up with Dan. "Nora is here somewhere. Her truck is back there."

  They spotted Gina talking with a man on the runway. "So, you really don't know who is using the airport at night?"

  "Look lady, I'm telling you the same as I told the other one. Check in the

  office. I'm only maintenance around here. I check that the planes don't fall out of the sky once they're up there. That's all I do."

  Gabe and Dan heard the last of the conversation. Dan signaled Gina to come away. Out of the man's hearing, Gabe said, "Nora's here."

  "Where?" Gina asked. As much as she admired Nora's spunk, she knew the danger she could be in.

  "My guess is she saw that plane same as we did last night. She figured out the plane has to land somewhere and that this is the most likely place around. I told her not to get involved, but knowing her and how head strong she can be . . ."

  "I get it, but if she's not with her truck, where is she? We have to find her and fast," Dan said—concern in his voice.

  O'Donnell spoke up, "We need to call for more help. If she was okay, we would have seen her.”

  “Maybe, and maybe not,” Gabe said—clearly worried. Determined to find Nora, he walked around the hangers. Behind the last hanger he heard voices. One was Nora’s. The other he didn't know. He drew his gun and signaled for Gina and Dan to come over. "I hear Nora in there. Find a window, so we can see what's going on."

  Keeping close to the building, Dan and Gina scouted for a window. Finding one, Dan helped to boost Gina up so she could see in. The window was filthy, but she could see enough.

  Signaling to be let down, she said, "Nora is tied to a chair beside Tito. He looks in bad shape. She's holding her own and keeping him talking. There is a back door behind a plane, so we might be able to get in without being seen."

  Making their way back to Gabe, they filled him in on trying for the back door.

  "We'll need to distract the guy with the gun. I'll take the front door. While he's talking to me you two go in the back," Gabe said.

  "You're taking a chance he won't fire first and ask questions later," Dan said.

  Movement caught Gina's eye. "Look, they're going to have a distraction after all."

  They watched as Shana tottered up to the hanger on high heels and a skirt up to her ass. "I’ll bet she's not taking flying lessons," Dan said, raising his eyebrows at the leggy brunette.

  Shana opened the door and walked in. They could hear her yell, “Santos, what in hell are you doing?"

  "Just tidying up loose ends," he sneered.

  "You don't have to do this, Santos," Nora said.

  "I've already killed one man, so a couple more folks won't make that much of a difference.

  You just couldn’t stay out of this,” he yelled back at the young girl. He ran his hands over his face trying to think. He had three people who knew too much.

  "Get over with them." He waved his gun at her, telling her to stand beside Nora and Tito. She moved to do as she was told.

  Gabe came in the front door with his gun drawn. Santos heard him and grabbed Shana—holding her in front of him like a shield, his gun at her head.

  "Let her go, Santos. You're not getting out of this," Gabe said—trying to judge if Santos would really shoot the girl. He had to figure he would. He observed Gina and Dan creeping cautiously in the back door. If he could keep Santos talking, they might surprise him.

  "How do you figure on getting away, Santos?" Gabe asked him.

  "How about I have Chica fly me out of here?" he answered.

  "I haven't flown a plane for years," Nora shouted.

  "Just like riding a bike," he said. He backed up, dragging Shana with him.

  Nora had managed to wiggle her hands free. As she spied an open tool box a few feet away, she side-stepped towards it—keeping an eye on Santos and Gabe. A large wrench was lying on the top of other tools in the box. She picked up it up and waited until Santos was close enough to her—whacking the wrench on his head with all her strength. He went down in a heap. Shana ran a few feet and sank to her knees sobbing.

  Gabe rushed to Nora, cradling her in his arms. Gina ran to Shana, and Dan put cuffs on the unconscious Santos.

  "Are you alright?" Gabe asked Nora, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

  "I'm fine now," she said, looking into his eyes. She planted a firm kiss on his lips which he returned, fire burning inside.

  "You sure do pack a wallop," Gabe said when he caught his breath.

  Dan checked on Tito, "He'll need an ambulance, but he should be okay. I think Santos has a concussion. He'll need the hospital, too."

  The maintenance man, Shana's father, came through the door. "What the hell is going on here?" he yelled, seeing his daughter crying on the floor with Agent Gina O'Donnell standing over her.

  Dan called the ambulance and the agents waiting at the station, while Gabe and Nora tried to fill him in on how his daughter had gotten mixed up with a drug-dealing murderer. It didn't go over well. "What were you thinking?" he yelled at the poor girl huddled on the floor.

  "I thought he loved me. He took me places and bought me things," she protested. "None of the other guys around here ever did that."

  "I should have known somet
hing was up with the way your skirts kept getting shorter and the make-up got thicker. Your mom was the same way before she left with that sky jockey she took up with. Get up off that floor and come on home. We have some talking to do."

  "Sir, I'm Agent Gina O'Donnell with the DEA, Drug Enforcement Agency. I'm going to have some questions for Shana here." She put out her hand, and the older man took it. "I'm Rusty Fairfield, Shana's dad and maintenance around the field. You need her for anything, let me know, and she'll be there. You have my word."

  "Thanks, Mr. Fairfield, we'll be in touch." Gina watched father and daughter head over to the office across the street. They probably lived in that row of houses facing the field. They arranged for her to be taken to the station—where her dad could pick her up later. She didn’t envy Shana when her dad got her home. No Sir.

  "So, what have we got—the guy that drove the van, right? But who's been flying the plane, and where in heaven's name are the drugs?" Dan asked, finishing his calls and joining the others.

  "Let's hope Tito pulls through and can answer some of those questions. I'll get some officers to watch the plane and see who shows up to fly it out of here," Gabe said, holding Nora close to him. "Your Gramps is going to skin you alive when he finds out what you have been up to," he said, turning her to face him. "You could have been killed. Get in your truck, and I'll follow you home."

  Dan, Gina and Gabe were close behind Nora when she pulled up to her back door. Rex came down the steps barking at the unfamiliar vehicle.

  Gramps opened the door, "Rex, quiet. They’re friends." Rex looked up at Gramps and then back to the people getting out. He wagged his tail and wandered over to sniff and greet his visitors.

  Gina bent down and gave the dog a scratch behind his ears—becoming his new best friend.

  "Gramps this is Agent Gina O'Donnell with the DEA," Dan said introducing her.

  "Pleased to meet you, Ma’am," Gramps said, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he looked at Nora and her guests. "What have you been up to, young lady?" he asked, addressing Nora.

  "I think this needs a full pot of coffee," Gabe suggested.

  "And some of your Macallan’s," added Nora.

  Rosita started to fill the coffee pot. “Rosita, I have something to tell you about your nephew, Mateo—‘Santos,’ isn’t it?” Nora asked gently.

  “You’ve met my Mateo?” Suddenly it dawned on her that this would not be good news. She sank down in one of the kitchen chairs. Nora reached over and took her.

  “Santos is involved in the drug running around here. He was at Henry Jessup’s that night.”

  “Oh, Madre Dios, I knew he was up to no good.” Tears were running down her face. “How can I tell my sister this?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” Nora wiped a tear from her eye and poured them both a healthy shot of whiskey.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sitting around the table, Nora told Gramps how she had spotted the plane and had gone to the airport to see if it had landed there. "It was all perfectly innocent. A quick look around, a few questions and I was going to leave," Nora said. "But then this guy Santos comes out and tells me he knows who I am and where I live. Gramps, he's Rosita's nephew."

  Dan and Gabe stood to leave. "We have reports to write; we must check on Tito and Santos; and we need to have someone watch that plane to grab the pilot. The list is endless," Dan said. Gina joined them, "I need to report to the DEA in Washington. I have to send one of the agents out to talk to Shana. I might do it myself. I have a feeling she might relate better to a female."

  "I'll go with you, Gina," Nora said—ready to charge out again.

  "Oh, no you don't," they all answered at once.

  "You are going to stay here," Gabe said.

  "I'll tie her up if I have to," Gramps said.

  "Ah, come on, I can talk to Tito or Shana. I can't possibly get into trouble there," Nora pleaded. "You guys have your hands full, and I can help.”

  Dan hung his head and talked softly to Gabe with Nora listening. "We have a proposition. You can go and talk to Tito—only Tito. Stay away from Santos. You have to take Agent Esposito with you. “Gina can go to see Shana and take Baker. Agent Montrose will stand guard over Santos. That should make him happy. These drug cartels are vicious and might try to silence Santos so he can't give up the man pulling the strings here.

  "You're not going to let me tie her up, are you?" Gramps questioned.

  "No, not this time," Gabe said. "If I leave her here, she'll take off and do God knows what. At least she'll have an agent with her, and she might be able to get something useful out of Tito."

  Gramps agreed reluctantly. He knew Gabe was right. Nora would not stand for being on the sidelines now. Talking to Tito would keep her busy and safe. It was better to know where she was and that someone was with her who could protect her.

  Back at the station, Dan outlined the assignments to the agents, and Montrose went ballistic. "Why do I have to babysit an unconscious guy in the hospital? I could do the interview

  with that guy Tito or the girl, what's her name?"

  Gina knew just how to handle Montrose. "Only you have the experience to watch over a dangerous murderer. What if he wakes up and takes a nurse hostage? What if the cartel sends someone to shut him up permanently? You're the best man for the job. Baker and Esposito don't have the instincts to spot trouble that you have." She could see the wheels turning in his head, and he took the bait.

  "You're right. They're too new at the job," he said—puffing up like a rooster at the praise.

  "Let’s get a move on and end this thing," Dan said, holstering his gun.

  At that moment, the phone on Gabe's desk rang. He listened for a few seconds and put the receiver down.

  "The men watching the plane caught the pilot as he was getting ready to take off. Rusty Fairchild let my men know he was there. He's not talking yet, but he will once we get him in here. I'll see if I can loosen him up for when you get back," he said and watched Nora as she headed out of the office to talk to Tito.

  His gut churned, thinking of what might have happened to her. Here she was heading out again. He hoped Esposito could handle her and keep her safe. He hoped they would all be safe.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Nora and Agent Esposito arrived at the information desk of Manatee Memorial Hospital the same time as Special Agent Montrose. The volunteer at the desk was pleasant and helpful— directing them to the floors and rooms they were looking for.

  They shared the elevator to the third floor where special Agent James Montrose got off to babysit Santos, who was handcuffed to the bed. Nora and Esposito went up to the fourth floor to the ward where they would find a slightly-bruised Tito.

  Nora opened the door slowly. Tito was watching some game show on the TV. His face was a black and blue mess with a couple of butterfly bandages under his eye and one up by his hair line. A bad split lip had him sucking juice from a straw. Seeing Nora with the agent standing behind her, he shut off the television and tried to pull himself up straighter in the bed. Feeling a bit used by the DEA, he asked, "What are you doing here? Haven't I suffered enough for you guys? I did what you asked, and

  look where it got me." He was mad, upset that he had let himself get involved with Richie Cantura and his crazy plans.

  "We're sorry it worked out like this," Nora said.

  "Yeah, me too. It wasn't supposed to go down like this," Agent Esposito agreed.

  "There are a few questions the DEA thought you might help them with," Nora said approaching his bed. He tried to put his juice on the little table beside his bed, and Nora reached out to help him. He gave her a nod. She took the carton from him and placed it on the table.

  "I've had some time to think about how this all started and why," Tito said, taking a deep breath. "It's all my fault. I was cheating the workers and deserved to be fired. I didn't have to go with Richie and get involved with Santos and the drug drops. In that hanger with Santos beating the shit out of
me, I learned that I deserved every hit, every punch he gave me."

  "Tito, you don't have to . . ."

  Tito stopped her. "No, Nora, I do."

  "I thought about how I grew up poor. I hated every minute I spent in the cigar factories of Ybor City. I wanted what the rich guys had, but I didn't want to work for it. My family gave me all they could. They gave me a life I would never have had in Cuba. We had a roof over our heads, food on the table, decent clothes to wear. They gave me the opportunities of a good education, and I threw it in their faces."

  Tito started to cry. "What did I get trying to get rich my way—thrown in jail, beaten up by a crazy, sick lunatic? He would have killed me if you guys hadn’t shown up to save my ass."

  Nora handed him a tissue to wipe the tears running down his face.

  "Thanks, Ms. Hollister. I don't deserve your kindness. Tell Gramps I'm sorry."

  Esposito pulled up a chair. Nora found a perch on the bed beside Tito. Nora gave Tito's hand a squeeze, and the agent asked his questions. After a few minutes, he gave Tito and Nora some time alone and sat outside the door.

  Downstairs, the volunteer receptionist gave someone else information to Mateo Santos and Tito Ramirez’s rooms. In the elevator, he checked his gun and screwed the silencer onto the muzzle. He watched the numbers change above the door and got out on the fourth floor.

  He had his orders and twenty-five thousand dollars in his off-shore account. He was counting on getting the other half when he finished his assignment. He was a Cartel hitman, hired to kill Mateo Santos and Tito Ramirez, a double header and a double pay day.

  Down the hallway, he saw a man in a suit sitting in a chair outside the room Ramirez was in. He had to come up with a distraction. Luck had placed the doctors’ lounge across from the elevator doors. Walking in, he nodded hello to a doctor helping himself to coffee. The doctor nodded back and left with his coffee. The killer picked up a lab coat from the back of a chair, put it on, flipped the ID on the pocket so the photo didn't show and walked out. Passing the nurses’ station, he picked up an unattended stethoscope and threw it around his neck.