Beware The Fury

by C. I. Lopez

  Now with no one to interrupt them, Tomas reached out and grasped Yasmin’s shoulders. “Baby, I’ve missed you like hell. I’ve come to take you home.” His eyes taking on a bright glow as they traveled her length and back up to her face. His right hand slid in a caress up and down her bare arm, the fingers of his other hand combing through her silky strands of hair, noticing how much shorter it was. His attitude hardly what Yasmin expected.

  Seeing him at her door, a flashing thought warned her that he was there to carry out his threat to kill her. Confident that her death was imminent, she wondered whether he planned to wait until he reached his home with her. Had he really missed her and wanted to continue from where they were before she left? Either way served no worthy choice for her. Her life was about to become hell again.

  “We’re leaving,” he said, more gently than Yasmin ever remembered, his fingers now tracing a path along her cheek as though he found fulfillment in the mere touch of her.

  She thought of Federico just a few steps away in the kitchen. A prayer running through her head that he wouldn’t hear the commotion, or that he would know better than to intervene. She had no doubt Tomas would use whatever force required for dealing with Federico. Yasmin shook her head, her hair flaring out as if wind-blown.

  The words came pouring from her mouth, a desperate plea. “No, Tomas. I don’t want to go back with you. Just go back to the city and leave me in peace. Please, I beg you.”

  “I can’t do that, baby, I’ve missed you too much. I need you,” He pulled her against him. His sickening scent of sweat, and stale alcohol breath created an offensive aroma.

  “You don’t need me. You have all your other women. Just let me go, Tomas. Just let me go.” Tears invaded her eyes, blinding her as she stood there, staring at him. Her life was suddenly devastated by his presence, her future threatened by the man she loathed wholeheartedly.

  “God, baby, I want you so much.” In a single motion that caught Yasmin off guard, he clamped his stinking mouth upon her lips. An involuntary scream tore from her lips as she snatched her head back away from him, struggling uselessly to get away, but his strength was too much for her. Yasmin was horrified while Tomas grasped her at the nape of her neck to claim what he vowed was his to take.

  “Let her go, Chacon.” Federico’s voice came from a doorway, strangely calm.

  Yasmin cringed inside with fright, struck by the memory that Tomas never went anywhere without a gun. Even before she could open her mouth to warn Federico, Tomas was pulling the gun from his waistband, pointing it straight at Federico.

  “Please don’t shoot him!” Yasmin screamed, throwing herself in the path of the gun, and was instantly snatched back by Tomas’ firm jerk on her arm.

  “Does his heart bleed for you, baby?” Tomas sneered. “If it doesn’t, I think it should.” His expression changed to rage as he squeezed the trigger.

  Yasmin watched in horror as Federico crumpled to the floor, blood flowing from his chest, staining his shirt and spreading as a large dark stain on the carpet beneath him. Yasmin screamed, instinctively wanting to run to Federico, to hold him, minister to him, and help him. Instead, she saw Tomas taking aim for another shot, and with all her strength, she jerked from Tomas’ hold and stepped back to stand between the gun and Federico.

  The gun pointed straight at her chest, and she closed her eyes tight, waiting for the explosion and the pain of the bullet penetrating her flesh. When she heard the shot, she realized that while her eyes were closed, he’d shot around her, into Federico. She turned and looked down to see Federico, with another bullet hole, but in his abdomen, blood flowing freely.

  Federico was moaning with pain and reaching to the two life-threatening wounds.

  Tomas nodded. “I’m pleased he didn’t die with the first shot. A bullet in the abdomen means he will die a slow and painful death.”

  Yasmin threw herself over, Federico. She lifted the bright-colored dish drying cloth that Federico had been holding as he entered the room. With the material rapidly rolled into a pad, Yasmin tried to stop the blood flowing by pressing the cloth against the chest wound. She whispered assurances as she tore away material from her dress to make another pad.

  Tomas laughed. “It will take more than your dress to save him, but it amuses me to watch you try.”

  Yasmin felt her whole world sliding away from her. No sound emanated from Federico. Yasmin’s heart was like a time bomb ready to explode inside her chest with pain and fear that the only man she’d ever loved was dying. She placed her lover’s hands on the two impromptu dressings.

  “Hold these in place, Federico,” she whispered. “Please don’t die.”

  Without Federico, life wasn’t worth living, and a bullet from Tomas’ gun would be a blessing. Anything would be better than returning to his house. Sobs rose in her throat and burst from her mouth as she cried hysterically. She was still using her body as a shield between Federico and the gun Tomas continued to aim at him.

  “He had nothing to do with me leaving,” Yasmin continued. “Why did you have to shoot him? If he dies, you will have to kill me too. If he lives, I will go with you right now. We will walk out that door, and I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

  Still hearing no sound at all from Federico, Yasmin continued talking to Tomas. She hoped that Federico was still alive, and he would receive help once they were gone. “Tomas, please listen to me. If you want me to go with you, then let’s go. Let’s hurry up and get out of here. She was trying to distract Tomas, to encourage him to leave while Federico might still survive. If Violeta was still nearby, she would call an ambulance as soon as Tomas and Yasmin were gone.

  Tomas wavered as he realized that the loud explosion of the gunshots might have prompted someone to call the police. Therefore, getting the hell away from there was the most important thing on his agenda. He lowered his arm, sticking the gun around the back of his waistband, and grabbed Yasmin’s arm before moving to the door.

  “You always know how to take care of me, baby. That’s why I need you back. Everything was going to hell without you, but now, things will be good again.”

  Yasmin placed one arm around his waist, hoping to find his gun tucked in his belt as she seemed to walk willingly with her husband toward the black sedan.

  Suspicious of her movement behind him, Tomas pulled his gun from the back of his waistband and placed it inside his jacket.

  Through the wracking sobs that shook her body, and still struggling to get away from Tomas’ grasp, Yasmin managed to yell at Violeta. “Call an ambulance, hurry, Violeta. I know you’re hiding in the bushes. Federico’s been shot!”

  *

  The gunshots fired at Federico had been heard across the field at Santos and Eva’s house. Unsure of what might be happening in the usually quiet mansion, and unaware that Yasmin was there with Federico, Santos drove his police car to investigate the noise. He smiled at the thought that Federico must have hooked up some appliance incorrectly, and it had exploded. He would probably find him with his face and hair full of soot, but he was also hoping Federico wasn’t hurt.

  When Captain Sosa turned into the Montenegro driveway, he saw Yasmin, covered in blood, being held by a large and menacing-looking man. Two other men holding guns stood by a black sedan parked in front of the house. Yasmin was obviously being forced toward the vehicle by the two men with guns while she struggled and screamed to be let go. Santos realized immediately that he was going to be face to face with Tomas Chacon, Yasmin’s husband, and ruthless Kingpin of the country.

  While still driving, Santos unclipped his seatbelt and reached into the glovebox for his own gun. Santos sat upright again and held his automatic pistol out of the car window, aimed at Chacon and his men.

  Without wasting a moment, as Santos’ head came up, Chacon and his two guards fired their automatic weapons until the windshield of the official car shattered, covered with blood.

  The car that was still moving fast in Chacon’s direction careene
d out of control, hitting a low fence around what had once been Federico’s mother’s garden. The driver’s door opened during the collision, and Captain Santos Sosa’s dead body fell from the car onto the driveway. Continuous firing at the vehicle’s fuel tank caused the car to burst into flames.

  Tomas’ rage was in full gear now, his breathing ragged, his face red and sweating; he was in a killing mood.

  The explosion and subsequent fire caused Eva to run across the field, fearing for her husband.

  Yasmin saw her pregnant sister approaching. Although she was still fighting the shock of all she had experienced within the last few minutes, Yasmin screamed at her to go back.

  Heavy with child, running was difficult for Eva. She stopped, not understanding the sight of her sister, Yasmin, who she thought had left town four days earlier. Things began to make sense when she saw that Yasmin was not free to move. She was held roughly by two men holding guns. There was a third man, and Eva recognized him from the newspaper pictures. He was the country’s most feared Kingpin.

  Yasmin had kept her promise to stay the four days with Federico a secret from her sister to keep her clear of any danger, but everything had gone wrong. She had forgotten her white magic by not counting on Violeta’s jealousy. Yasmin’s mouth was still open, yelling at her sister to go back, but all sound ended for Yasmin with the gunshot fired at her sister. One shot between her eyes killed her instantly, while the shots to Federico’s chest and abdomen would leave him in pain until he died.

  Tomas was holding the smoking gun that was used to shoot Eva.

  It was all that Yasmin could take; her psyche could handle no more as she began a scream without end. Her eyes turned to the back of her head so that only the whites could be seen, and she collapsed unconscious.

  Tomas gave his men the order to pick up the two bodies outside the house and put them in the trunk.

  “What about the other one?” David asked, feeling more appreciation for Prince’s job as the official cleaner for Tomas.

  “Leave him to die in there. We need to move,” Tomas answered.

  A siren wailed in the distance.

  “The jealous bitch must have called an ambulance after all,” the chief guard said, relieved not to have to deal with the body still inside the house. The sedan, with the two bodies carelessly thrown into the trunk, sped off in the opposite direction from the approaching ambulance.

  PART FOUR

  Chapter 3

  Body Count

  After Violeta heard the black sedan speed away, she dared to come out of her hiding place, behind some bushes. She had been close enough to have witnessed much of what had happened. She ran back to the house and on entry caught the coppery scent of blood in the air.

  It was then that she realized that Federico might still have been in the house. She looked at the casualty lying spread-eagled on the floor, and her jealous heart missed a beat.

  “You see, Federico,” she murmured. “The whore was bad for you.” She stared at the large pool of blood as she stumbled back towards the doorway, feeling more pity for herself than the man on the floor.

  When the police and ambulance arrived simultaneously, they found Violeta standing outside the house. The detective quickly checked inside the doorway of the house and then stood back to let the medical team get on with their job.

  Mendoza turned to the only other person around. “What happened here?”

  “I’m sorry I told him. I had no idea it would turn out like this.” Violeta was noticeably rattled, or else she would have kept her mouth shut.

  “You told who?” Detective Mendoza exclaimed, confused by the statement.

  “The husband.”

  “Whose husband?”

  “That cheating whore, Yasmin, her husband. She was living here with Federico while her grieving husband looked for her. What kind of woman does that?”

  “How the hell did you know Chacon?”

  “There was a missing person’s report sent to the station. I called the precinct at the capital and informed them that I knew the woman called Mrs. Chacon, lived here. I left my name with them, and Mr. Chacon called me directly. I had no idea he was that sort of person.”

  “Violeta, you know what you did was against the law. Any missing person’s report that comes into the precinct is to be handed to one of the officers in charge or to me. Why did you feel like you could take it upon yourself to take action? You are a clerk at the police station, not a police officer.”

  Violeta was stunned into silence by her own foolishness and what it had caused.

  Two more police cars turned up. While one officer checked the house, the others searched the immediate area outside, leaving the detective to speak to the woman who appeared to be a witness.

  Mendoza said, “Are you’re telling me that Tomas Chacon, Panama’s most ruthless Kingpin was here to pick up Yasmin Samudio, his estranged wife?”

  Violeta nodded silently. Her expression no longer reflected her earlier triumph.

  Mendoza was confused, looking around at the crime scene in the vicinity of the house. “This doesn’t look like the work of a professional. Chacon has never left a mess like this before, and nor does he ever leave any witnesses. It’s a pretty sloppy job for him.”

  Interrupting the policeman’s logic as he assessed the area, Violeta insisted that they check on Federico.

  The paramedics had already set up a drip and attempted to deal with the young man’s injuries. They were loading him into the ambulance when the detective approached alone to ask for their diagnosis.

  After a word with the paramedics and a quick inspection of Federico’s body, the detective turned and snarled at Violeta, “Federico is not only injured, Violeta. He might shortly be dead!”

  Violeta’s lips trembled as the magnitude of her jealous actions hit home. She was still selfish enough to consider Federico’s death as her loss. She stared out across the field in the direction Eva had come, only to meet her untimely death.

  The forensics team had arrived while the detective and the only eye witness were standing near the house. The men had worked quickly to tape off the scene and search for casualties. There was some confusion when a large patch of blood was discovered, but no body.

  “Sir,” Stefan, the scene of crime officer, said, “We have two more casualties, but they’re unaccounted for.”

  “What do you mean, unaccounted for, Stefan?”

  “The official car belongs to Captain Santos Sosa, or at least we’re assuming he was driving. The car is riddled with bullets, and no one could have survived, but there’s no body. The other crime scene is over at the edge of the field between this house and that one. Over there, a small pool of blood is left behind, but the body has gone. There is a woman’s shoe and scars across the earth where she was dragged.”

  “The victims must be somewhere. We were here quickly.”

  “We’d like to think the people were injured and had walked away, but it seems unlikely judging by the blood and other evidence we’ve found. The trails for both of them lead to where a car has been parked. The tire marks show it made a rapid exit, leaving rubber marks behind.

  “Where did the other victim come from?” Mendoza was frustrated and confused.

  “Judging by the footprints, one person, that is the woman, approached across the adjacent field, but she only made it so far.”

  Mendoza turned towards Violeta. “Where is Yasmin, was she shot as well?”

  “I don’t know!” Violeta screamed.

  “What did you see?”

  Violeta explained that after hearing screams following the gunshots, she had dared to peek out from behind the bushes where she was hiding. She said she saw Yasmin alive, being shoved towards Tomas’ car, screaming and struggling to get herself free. Her dress was torn and covered in blood. Contempt and disgust filled Violeta as her face turned red with rage. She remembered the slap she took from Yasmin’s husband after she led him to the farmhouse to find his wife.

 
“Go on,” the detective said, incredulous at how detached this young woman seemed to be amid such carnage.

  “He hit me. The son of a bitch hit me,” Violeta said, her eyes blinking wildly. She was scared out of her wits now, realizing the trouble she might be in if the husband had been the Kingpin, and he’d learned that she had witnessed him shooting three people in cold blood.

  “Did you call the ambulance?” Mendoza asked, thinking that Violeta was probably incapable of doing so, but she seemed to be the only witness. He wondered why he’d ever hired her to work at the precinct.

  “No,” Violeta said. “I think the maid must have heard the commotion as she was coming to work and maybe called the ambulance from Eva’s house. Yasmin’s screaming and the gunshots must have alerted her to call for help, and then she must have run away.”

  “Do you know the name of the maid?”

  “I think Federico calls her Tilly. I mean, he called her Tilly when he was alive. I’ve heard him mention how grateful he was of her work.”

  Mendoza was stunned by the woman’s attitude and nodded for her to stay put. He asked the team to put away their guns and begin the search for the other two bodies. They might have been dumped in a roadside ditch or nearby.

  Captain Santos Sosa was an advisor to the local police, so they were well-acquainted with him and his pregnant wife, who lived across the field from the Montenegro home. They had obviously come to help their friend and neighbor, not realizing the danger they were entering into.

  After checking Santos and Eva’s house across the field and finding it void of evidence, they concluded they had left unexpectedly at short notice. The police went through the Montenegro ranch house, admiring Federico’s remodeling during their search. They discovered Yasmin’s bag near the door, packed and apparently ready for leaving.

  Outside, other police continued to search within the boundary they’d marked with yellow crime-scene tape. In the absence of bodies or any evidence of bodies dumped in the area, the team called for a tow truck to take away what was left of Santos’ car.