Murder in the Magic City

by G. P. Sorrells

  She pulled out her phone and began searching for options. If the “drown your sorrows” side of her brain won out in this manufactured debate, she wanted to be prepared with choices. A few promising locales popped up almost immediately. Local dive bars steeped in history and capable of delivering on the hope of a genuinely unique atmosphere abounded. Narrowing her options down to one or two would be tough. She briefly considered flipping a coin to decide between her top two choices.

  In all her mental back-and-forth, Valerie had grown oblivious to the world around her. She didn’t notice a solid black, nearly windowless, van roll to a stop next to her. Its doors slammed open, and two pairs of arms lunged out, grabbing hold of her shoulders and legs. She disappeared into the void without a sound.

  Chapter 47

  Vivian sat at her desk, gazing at her computer screen. The colors had blended long since blended, her brain descending into mush. A multitude of tabs stared back at her, each full to the brim with copious amounts of information about Carlos Medina, Edgar Jennings, and the type of life each man had led to that point.

  A connection existed, albeit tangentially. From what she could tell, Jennings had sold Medina his home on Fisher Island a few years back. Her information was rudimentary at that point, not much more than Jennings’ name listed as the selling agent on a run-of-the-mill real estate website most people used to check the value of their homes.

  It could be something, but she didn’t feel great about the odds. Almost as if pursuing the notion any further would equate to nothing more than chasing a red herring. To some, vanity means more than actual accomplishment. Maybe he just enjoys seeing his name all over the place. Vivian could see the sale date as well, but she wanted obvious proof Jennings was the agent responsible for closing on the sale before she pursued a warrant for Medina.

  “What could make you want to take out your real estate agent?” Vivian twirled a pen around, hoping the rhythmic spinning would trigger a eureka moment. When that didn’t happen, she called the Miami-Dade County Recorder’s Office.

  She angrily clicked through a few automated prompts before finally connecting to an actual person. “Hello, this is Detective Vivian Jackson with the Miami Metro Police Department. Yes, I need some files sent over to my office. No, I don’t have a warrant. Is there, uh, anyway we could consider this a professional courtesy? Yes, yes, that’ll work.”

  Vivian hung up the phone and glared at her computer screen, willing the email into existence. She didn’t like to bribe people with their own get-out-of-jail free cards, but the chance to bring down a kingpin like Medina was far more important than what she was or wasn’t comfortable with. After what felt like an eternity, her inbox dinged, and a new message appeared. She ignored the text and opened the PDF.

  A quick scan of the document revealed Jennings was the closing agent, but he didn’t act alone. In fact, he wasn’t even around when the closing paperwork for the Fisher Island mansion was signed. He had sent one of his underlings to deal with the fun task of signing off on the copious amounts of paperwork that came along with acquiring property of any sort.

  Vivian’s eyes continued to scan the file, jumping from one point to the next like a bulbous fruit fly darting around in search of a juicy, discarded morsel of food. Tucked away in a manner not likely to be noticed by anyone outside of the most studious of underwriters, was the tidbit she had hoped to find. Initially, the commission percentage was a healthy five percent for Jennings’s agency. Higher than the standard rate, but likely agreed upon once all the factors surrounding the sale were first put into perspective.

  I assure you, Mr. Medina, this is standard procedure when dealing with a home of this stature. More hands available helps to move the process along at a quick pace. It also all but eliminates the chance for a blunder of any sort.

  Vivian found it difficult to reconcile with the ease with which the supposed conversation played out in her mind. It felt scummy, and it seemed all too likely to have existed somewhere near reality. The ballooned percentage implied a notion that it was there simply to cover the efforts of a pair of agents working to close a sale. A sort of monetary nod to their endeavors in ultimately arriving at the desired end.

  Below the initial commission percentage listed was a second line. A placeholder normally left empty unless something would have to be added in at the last moment. Here, a most peculiar set of words filled the space.

  Closing costs adj. to 10%.

  Medina had scrawled his initials on a space below the words, seeming to show his agreement with the absurd increase. According to the PDF, however, the line regarding the increase had been filled in a day after they originally signed the paperwork.

  “That crazy sonofabitch actually tried to pull a fast one on a kingpin.” Vivian stood up, shaking her head. She paced around her desk for a moment before sitting back down and backing up the newfound information onto a zip drive. “It’s no wonder Medina wanted him dead. Time to get my hands on that warrant.”

  Chapter 48

  Micah heard a strange sound as he walked into the apartment. A muffled whimper from off in the distance, like a wounded animal, interspersed with the pedestrian sounds of modern life. The refrigerator gargled as it jostled frozen water into cubed form. A low, steady hum from the air conditioner, constantly overworked by the South Florida humidity. All that was needed to create the auditory trifecta was the television playing a show for the still air.

  He set down the grocery bags he had been carrying and tip-toed toward the source of the strange noise. The closer he got, the more he could distinguish it from everything else vying for his attention. Sobbing. A soft, gut-wrenching sound from the other side of the door. It caused him to drop his guard immediately, switching from paranoid homeowner to concerned boyfriend. Micah touched the door, hesitated briefly, and walked inside.

  Valerie was on the bed, facing the window on the opposite side of the room. She was lying still, in a sort of fetal position that seemed to shout to the world that she had had enough of its shit for one day. This was not a side of her Micah had seen before. If he were being honest with himself, he was a virgin in this sort of situation in its entirety. He hadn’t the slightest idea how best to go about consoling the woman who held his heart in her hand, but he knew enough to realize standing still and watching simply wouldn’t cut it.

  Micah walked over and kneeled in front of Valerie. Her eyes, soaked, were a shade of red that struck him as almost unnatural. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t good. She took one look at his concerned face and welled up. Her tear ducts threatened to burst with whatever liquid remained inside them.

  “Hey, Val, it’s ok,” Micah said. He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and kept her head cradled gently in his hand. He stared into her eyes, hoping that he could somehow find the words to make things right. “Look, babe, I don’t know what’s going on, or what’s got you all upset, but I’m here for you. Right now. I’m not leaving your side until I know that you’re going to make it past whatever has you feeling this way.”

  Valerie stared into his eyes. It took everything she had not to burst into tears. Somehow, someway, the waterworks would wash over all that had happened. Make it nothing more than a dream. “Micah, I,” she started. Her voice caught, and she felt the tears ready to make their advance. She had to get a hold of herself.

  “Valerie, you don’t need to talk about whatever it is right now. Just try to relax. Take a deep breath. Maybe see if all those yoga poses you keep trying to teach me can help take your mind off things.” Micah immediately regretted the joke, but he was at such a loss about how to handle it all that he just got progressively more nervous. “If you want, I can just stay right here and hug you. Or hold your hand. Whatever feels best.”

  “I, I’d like that,” Valerie said. She sat up gingerly, wiping away tears on the sleeve of her shirt. Micah smiled at her, an awkward grin that had a Cheshire Cat vibe to it despite his best efforts to come across as eve
n keeled. I don’t know what he’s going for with that look, but it’s hard to stay upset when you’ve got that grin staring back at you, she thought. Before her mind processed anything else, Micah leaned forward and hugged her tightly. There was nothing especially intimate about the hug. He didn’t provide it, hoping she would reciprocate with something risqué. It was an embrace formed from a hearty mixture of love and genuine care. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and wept softly.

  “Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, whatever it is, I’ll be here for you. I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned back and kissed her forehead before staring into her eyes. “If you decide you’d rather not discuss the issue, and prefer to keep it bottled for a while, that’s okay too. I’ll support you no matter what.”

  Valerie felt her heart drop at the noticeable depths of his devotion. She wasn’t sure when he’d reached that sort of clarity about their relationship, or if she could approach something resembling it at any point in the future. She tried to choke out an apology, but all she could muster were more tears.

  “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Micah said, consoling her. “I want to apologize.”

  “You do?” Valerie wiped away tears, hopelessly trying to prevent a further deluge.

  “Yes. I should’ve told you the truth last night. About the money, about Jimmy, about everything. It wasn’t fair of me to keep it from you. From now on, I’m going to be more open. For everything that happened, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “Micah, about Jimmy,” Valerie explained what had transpired since they last saw one another but found herself at a loss as to how best to put it all into words. The truth wasn’t always easy to divulge. Sometimes, keeping it locked away in one’s own mind provided the chance to act as though the truth had never actually happened. But she couldn’t do that to Micah. Not now. He had shown her something she didn’t realize she had needed, and she wanted to do everything in her power to keep it. If she were being honest with herself, holding back the truth was no simple task.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted like you wouldn’t know who he was, or the things he was involved in. It wasn’t fair to you.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Valerie said, staring off at nothing. “Well, it was, but not anymore.”

  Micah found himself genuinely concerned in a far different manner than he had been only moments before. The conversation had somehow taken a turn down a road he never expected to be traveling. “What’s going on?”

  “Last night, when I left, I was pissed at you.”

  “Yea, I gathered as much.”

  “I didn’t really have a plan when I stepped outside, I just knew I couldn’t stay inside these four walls any longer. Not for a little while anyway.” Valerie stole a glance at Micah and could sense the confusion slowly coalescing with an undercurrent of anger. She had to get to the point soon, but she still wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s just sort of how I am when I let my emotions get the best of me. I just have to get away from everything and vent. But, but that’s not what this,” she gestured at her tear-streaked eyes, makeup smeared in a manner that made her look almost as though she had attempted to put it on for the first time that very morning.

  Micah wanted to say something, to gain some clarity, but he let Valerie continue talking instead. They were in a better place now than they had been a few hours before, and he didn’t want to throw it all away by saying something he would regret. He opted, instead, to grip the sheets of their bed tighter and tighter as the conversation drifted further into a territory he hoped never to deal with.

  “Anyway, I finally decided to just go to the bar and have a drink or two. That’s it. I had every intention to come back here right after. But I never got to set up the ride share.” Her gaze returned to the floor, purposely avoiding the pensive stare of the man who cared for her more than she realized was possible. “A van pulled up next to they pulled me inside.”

  “What?” Micah dropped all pretense of anger at what he thought may have been Valerie’s infidelity, and shifted immediately to a different, more feral sort of fury that would need to be unleashed to avoid unwanted consequences.

  “I never heard it; I just felt their arms pull me in.” Valerie sobbed once more. “I thought I was going to die.”

  “I’m glad that didn’t happen,” Micah said. He placed his hand on hers and gave a light squeeze. “Did you get a good look at the people who kidnapped you? What did they want?”

  “I didn’t really see either of them. There were two guys in the back with me, but it was dark, the only light was coming in from outside as the van drove along. They, they…” Valerie choked up, the reality proving difficult to wrestle with. “They raped me.”

  “Motherfuckers!” Micah knew in that moment that he should have done everything in his power to console Valerie in her time of need. To let her know that all would be well, and they would find a way past this unfortunate moment in their life together. Make certain she knew it changed nothing between him as far as he was concerned. But he could do none of that. In that moment, a switch flipped, and rage consumed him. “Where does Jimmy fit into this all?”

  “I think he’s the one who sent them after me.” Valerie shifted uneasily, working up the courage to continue. “When they were bringing me back home, tossing me to the curb like garbage, one man said something about calling Jimmy to tell him that the job was done. They left before I could hear anything else.”

  Micah’s blood pressure was rising to dangerous levels. He had done everything asked of him by Medina and Castillo, without question, and this was the way Jimmy had deemed worthy of paying him back for his loyalty? It didn’t add up, but he would be lying to himself if he said he thought it was something outside of Jimmy’s wheelhouse.

  “Say something, please.”

  “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Micah said, lightly grabbing Valerie’s hands and kissing her forehead. “I need to pay Jimmy a visit, but I’m going to straighten this all out.”

  “Micah, wait,” Valerie said, trying in vain to prevent the situation from escalating much further.

  “Val, I have to do this. What those men did to you,” Micah shook his head in disgust, “what Jimmy ordered them to do… it can’t be allowed to stand. I have to do something about this.” He started for the door, stopping to look back at Valerie. “If I don’t make it back, I stored the information for my all my personal accounts in some hidden files on your work computers. The access code is the date we met. You’re the only person with access to those accounts if I don’t come out of this in one piece.”

  Before Valerie objected further, Micah vanished.

  Chapter 49

  Micah stormed over to his car, trying desperately to prevent the fury he felt from taking hold of his mind, driving him down a road for which there was no safe return. He needed his head to be clear, or close to it, if he was going to come out ahead. Castillo had betrayed his trust, and that wasn’t something he could tolerate when it involved the safety of the woman he loved. Shit, I still haven’t told her how I really feel. Where I see this going, he thought to himself. The engine roared to life and Micah dialed Castillo’s number.

  “Yo,” said Castillo. His voice sounded distant, as though he would rather do anything but speak on the phone.

  “Hey, Jimmy, can we meet up? I’ve got to run something by you. Think I may have found another, uh, opportunity for us.”

  “Can’t right now.” Strange voices, their words drowned out by ambient noise, discussed something in Castillo’s vicinity. Micah couldn’t put a finger on who the voices belonged to, but he felt certain it wasn’t anyone they ran with. “I’ll call you later. Set something up.”

  “Where you at?”

  “Downtown. Don’t worry about it.”

  Before Micah could push further, the line clicked. He stared at the phone incredulously before setting it in the cupholder. He sat for a moment, listening to the calming hum of the
idling engine, considering his next move. Then, for reasons unknown, he picked the phone back up and dialed a number that he didn’t immediately recognize. Foreign though it may be, the numbers lit up the screen as though he called it once a week. It was as if his subconscious were making a call, but he wasn’t privy to the specifics of the contact.

  “How can I help you, Mr. Sheridan?” The voice on the other end was strange, though not nearly as much as the name she had referred to him by. Suddenly all the dreams Micah had been having made sense.

  “I need you to tell me Jimmy Castillo’s current location. We spoke on the phone a few minutes ago. He shouldn’t have moved much.” The conversation felt natural, despite his brain screaming at how surreal it all felt.

  “Okay, just give me one second.” Micah could hear the click-clacking of a keyboard in the background, swirling about with the absentminded humming of the woman on the other end. “He’s in a building on the corner of Brickell Avenue and 14th Street. Mr. Sheridan, it appears his signal has remained steady in that area for the past two hours.”

  “Thank you,” Micah said, ending the call. He flicked the car into gear and floored out into the street.

  #

  The car rolled to a stop at a traffic light outside of the Pacific National Bank. Inside, it appeared to be business as usual with multiple patrons entering and exiting as though nothing outside the ordinary were taking place. Micah watched as a Metromover rolled past on the rails above like a refrigerator sliding along with frightened passengers. The truth, he was certain, existed somewhere between abject terror and a collective urge to fall asleep from sheer boredom.

  Across the street from the bank was an Argentinian restaurant that immediately piqued Micah’s interest. Both because he realized how hungry he was in that moment, and Castillo’s penchant for variety in his culinary expeditions meant it likely that was the building he had been holed up inside.