Secrets In The Breeze

by David Banner

  It took less than a minute for them to cross over on Highway 64 and head to the bridge into Bradenton. I knew that no matter what happened I had to keep up though, so I floored the accelerator. Taking a swift left and riding the shoulder I passed the two cars between us and ended up right on their tail.

  At that point, we were going much faster than the speed limit, and wouldn't you know it, the one time I would welcome the police in a car chase they were nowhere to be found. My mind was focused on only one thing. Getting Rachel back. But with every mile, I realized I was getting further and further from Micah.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed his number. It rang once, then twice, then three times with no answer and just as I was beginning to consider turning back for him he picked up.

  "Hello."

  "Micah," I yelled. "Get out of there!"

  "Where?"

  "Wherever you are. Get off Anna Maria Island."

  "What? Why?"

  "Just do it. Now! I'll call you later. But get off that island."

  "Where do you want me to go?" he asked.

  "I don't care. Just go!" I slammed the phone down.

  I knew my little brother well enough, hearing the panic in my voice would make him listen to my words. I knew he'd do as I said and leave the island, and for now, that was comforting enough.

  The black car ahead of me weaved in and out of traffic, and with every turn I followed right behind them. Once again, I had ended up in a car, speeding down the Florida highways as the life of someone I loved was in danger.

  As we came closer to Interstate 75, I was sure the black car would take the opportunity to try to speed away from me, and for a second, they almost did. The car took a hard right onto the on-ramp, then as quickly as they got on, they turned hard to the left sending the car's tires spinning through the grass as they got back onto Highway 64.

  I followed them every inch of the way, my bumper staying only feet from the rear of their car. We sped down the highway like our lives depended on it, and for Rachel, it did. I just had to make sure I kept them in my sights long enough to get her back. I couldn't let her be taken away, held in some dank room, or worse, killed.

  'RING'

  "Hello," I said.

  "Where are you?"

  "Micah! I told you, get off the island."

  "I am," he said. "I'm coming through Bradenton. There's something on the scanner about a car chase with a Wrangler. The police are coming. Is it you?

  "Micah, just stay away. Go the other direction."

  "No!" he said. "I'm coming for you!"

  "Micah! No! Stay where—"

  The phone fell from my hand as the black car took a sharp turn into Lake Manatee State Park and I turned with it. The black car sped down the small street for about a minute before turning quickly off onto a dirt road then coming to an abrupt stop at the edge of the water.

  Dust and debris flew up in a thick cloud all around me as my tires locked down and my Jeep slid to a stop right behind them. The thick dust filled my lungs as I opened the door and hopped out. I coughed for a good minute, hunched over, trying to clear my lungs.

  "Back away!" a voice said from through the dust. "If you want her to live."

  "Let her go."

  "Back away, or she's gator food!"

  As the dust began to settle I could see tall, lanky man standing behind Rachel. He was holding a knife tight against her throat with his other arm wrapped around her waist. She thrashed and tried to pull away, but her hands and feet were bound with tape. It was no use, he had her, and from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice he was serious about killing her.

  "What do you want?" I asked.

  "Nicholas tried to make a deal with you. You should have taken it. Now, I fear its gone too far," said the man, pressing the knife ever-tighter against Rachel’s throat. "Our employer—"

  "Who!" I interrupted. "Who the fuck is your employer?"

  "Don't you know?"

  "No! Do I sound like I know?"

  "Don't go getting smart now, Brandon," he said through a crooked smile.

  "Just tell me who this man is, and I'll speak to him myself."

  "Hahaha ..." The man's voice faded away. "His name is Sofia Alvarez. And I'm sure she'd be happy to meet you."

  "And where is So—" My words were cut short by the wave of shock that went through my body as I watched a small truck come out of nowhere and slam directly into the black car, sending both Rachel and the tall man holding her captive falling to the ground.

  I hit the ground hard as a piece of metal flew toward me, slamming into my stomach and causing me to collapse in pain. After a moment of darkness, my vision came back into focus. I quickly lifted my shirt, looking to check the severity of my wound, but it appeared to be nothing more than a bruise. Finally, something had happened the worst way it could've.

  Standing up, I saw the person behind the wheel of the small truck had been Micah. I was in total shock, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He had come out of nowhere, exploding into action like a bomb. "Micah!" I yelled across the small patch of woods.

  "C'mon!" he called from behind me.

  I looked back to see that he had managed to get ahold of Rachel and get her safely into my back seat. He reached down and in one motion pulled me to my feet. We made a mad dash for my Wrangler, hopped in, and sped away. And for just a moment, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "W HO THE FUCK IS THAT?" MICAH SAID, SLAMMING ON THE BRAKES.

  I looked up to see a beautiful Spanish woman with long black hair and a figure that looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine. "I think that's her ..." I said.

  "Who?" Micah's eyes widened.

  "Sofia Alvarez."

  "Who's that?" asked Micah.

  "It’s the lady whose business I've ruined."

  "What do you mean?" asked Rachel.

  "I was hired by a jealous wife the other day. To take photos of some scum-ball politician."

  "You took those pictures of Robert Webber? The ones that destroyed his career, like, overnight?" Rachel asked.

  "Yes."

  "What does that have to do with her?"

  "Apparently, Sofia has some arrangement with him, and now, as his chances at office are ruined, she blames me for her loss," I said.

  "What loss?" Micah asked.

  "I don't know, but it doesn’t look like we're going to make it out of here without talking to her," I said.

  We were surrounded. Sofia stood out in front of a white Mercedes SUV, with at least fifteen men scattered around her, each one pointing a gun at my Wrangler.

  "I'll talk to her!" Micah said, throwing open the driver side door.

  "No! I will," I said. "Stay here."

  I stepped out of the Jeep and onto the soft Florida ground as the beautiful woman watched in silence. She stood probably five and a half feet tall, with long legs poking out from under a flowing purple dress with a dangerously high slit. She looked like a movie villain, a gorgeous, powerful one too.

  "I won't say those pictures were faked," I said flatly.

  She looked at me in silence for a moment before taking a few steps closer and bridging the gap between us.

  "I'm not asking you to. Not anymore." She gave a sexy smile. "You see, Brandon. The time has passed for such measures. Mr. Webber's approval rating has dropped too low, to the point that investing any more of my time and resources in him would be almost irresponsible. And I," she looked into my eyes, "am a very responsible woman."

  "Then what do you want from me?" I asked. "The police will be here any minute."

  "I wouldn't worry about the police. My men are keeping them busy. Charles Mitchell," she said. "Sound familiar?"

  "Not really."

  "Well, he's about to ... Charles Mitchell was Robert Webber’s top opponent for office. Time was: before your little pictures of course, that Mr. Mitchell didn't stand a chance. But now, with Robert gone, he's a shoo-in fo
r the spot."

  "What does this have to do with me?"

  "Glad you asked." She began walking around me in small circles, twirling what looked like a set of rosary beads in her hands. "You see, Brandon. I'm an importer-exporter of what we'll call 'fine goods'. The Island of Anna Maria has proven most valuable as a port for me lately. I need to ensure this channel stays open and conflict free during my business."

  "Again. I fail to see where I fit into this picture."

  "Let me clear that up for you, Mr. Waters." She came to a stop in front of me. "Charles Mitchell is the kind of man that can't be bought so easily. He has strong values and a kind way, and from what I can tell, I don't think he and I would see eye-to-eye on my using Anna Maria Island for myself. But, what Mr. Mitchell does have, is a beautiful daughter, Abigail. She'll be celebrating her sixteenth birthday this weekend."

  "No ..." I said.

  "At least hear me out, Mr. Waters," Sofia said. "I'm going to need you to intercept sweet Abigail at her party and bring her to me. No harm will come to the girl. She'll just be a form of insurance, to help Mr. Mitchell understand my ideas more clearly. People seem to hear you a lot clearer if you're standing next to someone they love. Don't you agree, Mr. Waters?"

  "I—"

  "Don't you agree, Mr. Waters?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Good. In that case ..." Sofia motioned her head toward my Jeep.

  "No!" I said, turning to run back to Rachel and Micah. But before I could get more than a step I felt the barrel of a rifle jabbing into my side.

  "Hold it right there, Brandon," Sofia said. "I only need one of them, and as I said, people listen more clearly when you have something they love. Choose. Your brother or your girlfriend."

  "I won't do this. I won't kidnap a child," I said. "Then I'll kill them both. And I'll make sure you're alive to see it happen."

  I stood still, feeling as helpless as I ever had. How could I do this, how could I possibly choose between Micah and Rachel? How could I possibly send someone I love off with a drug smuggler capable of God knows what? And even worse, how could I kidnap a child and turn her over to the same person?

  "Why can't you get someone else to do it?"

  "Because, Mr. Waters. It would look suspicious if I tried to get near her. I need her to disappear before anyone realizes she's gone. And since you'll be at her party anyway, you’re the perfect guy for the job. Besides, you owe me, and I always collect my debts."

  "Why would I be at her birthday party?"

  "Because," Sofia smiled. "You're graciously going to accept the invitation that was mistakenly sent to you. As a show of support for your new District Attorney. Given that the last one was so problematic."

  Her words fell on my ears like they were made of stone and I was being crushed under the weight of them. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, this was a level I had not at all prepared myself for.

  "Now. Which one of these lovely people will be my new friend?"

  "None!" I said. "I can't agree to this."

  "Well that’s a shame," she said. "Boys!"

  With her words four men raised their rifles and pointed them directly at Micah and Rachel.

  "Wait!" Rachel said. "I'll go."

  "No!" I exclaimed. "You can't."

  "It’s either go with her or we all die, Brandon."

  "Smart girl." Sofia smiled.

  "I'll go," Micah said.

  "Well, isn't this flattering." Sofia chuckled. "We've only just met, and already they're fighting over me."

  "You're twisted."

  "Yes," she said. "It’s wonderful."

  "Micah, no!" Rachel pressed her hand against his chest. "It's me. I'm going."

  "Well," Sofia said. "A choice has been made. Bring me the girl and Rachel goes free. No harm will come to either of them. Not if both you, and Mr. Mitchell, agree to my terms. I promise you that."

  Rachel walked over, gave me a soft hug, and whispered in my ear. "Save the girl first. Then save me. I'll be okay."

  Then, at the snap of Sofia's finger the men vanished almost as quickly as they appeared, each one jumping into cars and driving off behind her.

  "What are we going to do?" I said, looking to Micah.

  "We're going to get Rachel back!"

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  T HERE WERE SO MANY THINGS ON MY MIND ON THE WAY HOME. Who was Sofia Alvarez, and how powerful was she really? Sure, she seemed pretty confident, but was it all just an act or was she really as ruthless as she seemed. Somehow, I figured it was the latter.

  "Are you worried about Rachel?" Micah asked.

  "I'm not worried about her now. I believe Sofia when she said she won't hurt her. I just worry about what will happen to her when I don't kidnap this girl."

  "Yeah ... that's what I'm worried about too."

  It was true. I really did believe her when she said she wouldn't hurt Rachel. Not if we were playing by her rules. Not if she thought we were still going by her plan. And now, that was the only thing I had on my side.

  Obviously, I wasn’t going to kidnap a young girl from her birthday party, but I needed her to think I was. I needed to talk to Charles Mitchell. I needed to make him understand. What I didn't need was for him to freak out and send the girl away. So, I knew I had to be very careful in the way I approached this thing. I needed time to think.

  'RING'

  The sound of my phone cut through my thoughts.

  "Hello."

  "Brandon Waters?" A familiar voice said from the other side.

  "Yes."

  "This is Detective Morris from the Longboat Key Police Department. We earlier."

  "Yes."

  "I need you to come in for some follow-up questions. ASAP."

  "Okay ..." I said. "I can be there in about an hour."

  "Fine. See you then," the detective said and hung up.

  "Who was that?" Micah asked.

  "A detective. I need to go to Longboat Key."

  "Why?" asked Micah.

  "Long story. I'll go alone. You've got things to do if this party is gonna happen."

  After dropping Micah off at the house, I headed down coastal Highway 789 toward Longboat Key. It was only about a twenty-minute drive from the house to the police department. That stretch of highway was a beautiful one, known as Gulf of Mexico Drive, it was surrounded by the pristine blue waters of the gulf. I had a few minutes, so I took my time, stopping off once at my favorite spot, to stare out at the water, and think to clear my mind.

  What else could I possibly have to offer Detective Morris after already telling him what happened. We went fishing. We pulled up the net, and a body was in it. Plain and simple. Just a few days ago I had finally felt like my life was coming back together, like the pieces fit once again, and now it seemed to all be going to shit.

  I had the kind of house I'd always wanted, Micah was happy and finally passionate about something. Rachel had come with me. That was enough, that was all I needed. So why did it all have to go so wrong?

  "I'm here to see Detective Morris."

  "Right this way, Mr. Waters," the young officer said. "Have a seat. He'll be with you shortly."

  Once again, I was back in an interrogation room, alone and staring at a two-way mirror. I wasn't a criminal. I didn't do drugs, I didn't sell them, and I wasn't an informant. Why then, was I spending so much time in this situation? Why did I keep finding myself in these rooms being questioned about crimes I had only the vaguest knowledge of?

  "Brandon," the detective said, opening the door, and tossing a newspaper on the table. "Take a look at this and tell me what you see."

  "It’s a newspaper."

  "Yes, but look at the article. Look at the photo."

  I held the paper in my hand. It was a copy of today's Anna Maria Times and right there, near the bottom of the page was an article about my bar. 'Local bar gets its name. FreeFish opening only days away.'

  "My brother and I are opening a bar. So?"

  "I contacted the pho
tographer who took this picture. He assured me it was taken only three days ago."

  "Alright ..." I said.

  "Well, if you look closely at the photo you'll see yourself, standing with Sharon Rhodes, right there on the beach. Next to your restaurant. Three days ago. So, my question, Mr. Waters, is; why did you lie about when you spoke with this woman. And look, she's even wearing the earrings that were in her ears when you pulled her up from the water. Well ... one of them anyway. We have a team searching the sand around your restaurant for the other one now."

  "I didn't lie," I said, knowing full well I had. "And I don't know anything about her earrings."

  "You said your meeting with her was so brief and so long ago that you couldn't even remember it. At an ATM you said."

  "I said I thought it was at an ATM. I had a lot going on that day. I barely even remember speaking to the woman," I said.

  "Three days is nothing Mr. Waters. I can still taste the snapper I ate three days ago. You had better start being honest with me. What were the two of you talking about. How did you know Sharon Rhodes?"

  "I don't know Sharon Rhodes. I spoke to her once, and obviously she didn't make much of an impression if I can't even remember where we were."

  "This woman ended up dead in my waters, and as far as I can tell, you were one of the last people to see her alive. So, if I were you—"

  A knock at the door interrupted Detective Morris.

  "Hello," said a short Spanish man in a suit. "I need a moment alone with my client."

  I could practically hear the detective's teeth grinding together as the man stood next to the open door. But, knowing he had no choice, the detective left the room. "Who are you?" I asked.

  "My name is Juan Medina. I'm your attorney."

  "Since when?" I asked.

  "Since Sofia Alvarez asked me to be."

  "How did you know I was here?"

  "You didn't think she'd make a business deal and not keep an eye on you. Did you?" He grinned wide. "Now. Let’s get down to business. Why are you here?"

  "A woman is dead."

  "Did you kill her?"

  "No! I just happened to meet her a few days before her body was found."