Savage Heart

by M. G Scott

  Urbina flashed recognition but then stared past them. Sabrina peered over her shoulder at two men sporting small handguns. Urbina nodded toward a maroon car parked alongside him. “Behind the car … now!” The two women rushed toward the car just as a burly Hispanic man, police badge dangling from his neck, burst out of the driver’s door holding a large caliber rifle. Sabrina grabbed Gina’s hand and slid across the hood of the car, falling on the concrete curb.

  “Todos al suelo!” someone yelled.

  The women crouched against the passenger door, invisible to the pursuers. The same man hollered a few more words Sabrina didn’t understand and then two shots were fired, the sounds echoing throughout the bay.

  And then an eery silence followed.

  The agony of not knowing stretched on. Sabrina crouched low and peered under the car: Nothing but darkness. What’s going on? she wondered. Swallowing hard, she crawled around Gina.

  “What are you doing?” Gina whispered.

  “Seeing if it’s over,” Sabrina replied. She slowly stuck her head in front of the car’s bumper and surveyed the street. When she realized what happened, her face lit with a happiness she didn’t know was possible. She turned back. “They got ‘em.”

  Gina’s face burst with emotion. “Are you sure?”

  Sabrina nodded slowly and then stood. “Take a look for yourself,” she said, grabbing Gina’s hand.

  “Don’t think about moving,” the burly officer yelled at the attackers. He and Urbina had them pinned to the concrete with their knees and were securing their hands with white plastic ties.

  Urbina looked up at the women. “Steven Vua … where is he?” he hollered.

  “He’s dead,” they replied simultaneously.

  Urbina at first seemed surprised but then nodded. “That makes it easy.”

  As Sabrina watched the two attackers, she did something she didn’t care if she would later regret. She walked up to one of them, bent over and whispered in his ear, “I don’t know how much Vua was paying you but it couldn’t be worth this.”

  “Screw you, bitch!”

  “That’s enough!” Urbina barked at the attacker.

  With their hands tied tightly behind them, Urbrina and the officer yanked the two to their feet and dragged them over to the unmarked car. The officer threw them in the back seat and slammed the door shut. He turned to the women. “I’m sorry for being so rude,” he said in heavily accented English. “My name is Carlos. I am with the Mexican Federal Police.” He slapped the top of the car. “These men will no longer trouble you.”

  “It’s over,” Urbina said.

  Sabrina stared at him. She heard his words but it didn’t seem to sink in. And then she nodded. It was over. She wrapped her arms around the two men. “We both owe you so much for helping us. I don’t know how you made it here but you did.”

  Urbina hugged her back. He grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Do you know how foolish you were coming down here,” he scolded her.

  “Then how—”

  “How did I find you?”

  “Yes.”

  “When my patrol officer found out you had slipped out during his watch, we ran a computer scan on your name and found the flight you booked to Acapulco.”

  “But it’s out of your jurisdiction. Why come?”

  “Because I knew you were in trouble—big time trouble.”

  “So you figured it out?”

  “It was our conversation at the hospital. You mentioned Sanchez died of Atropine—which as you know, wasn’t in the final report. So I went to the coroner’s home that night and rattled her door until she woke up. I wanted to find out exactly what she knew.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Let’s just say her body language said it all. She knew she was cooked and told me everything.”

  “Like?”

  “Apparently she had been paid off to withhold information on the report. A man offered what he called an ‘incentive’ if she left certain details out of the report.”

  “Bribery.”

  “Yeah. She was desperate … behind in her bills.

  “I wouldn’t doubt the man she met was their hired killer.”

  “No doubt. She showed me the check. It was issued from a shell address here in Acapulco … which, by the way, exactly matched the address of one of BioHumanity’s buildings.”

  “Hmm. How convenient,” Sabrina said.

  “So I booked her and then headed for the airport.” Urbina pointed toward his friend. “That’s when I called my buddy, Carlos. I needed someone with jurisdiction to arrest Vua. I was determined to bring the whole thing down and I wanted to start and end with him. Plus, I knew I could trust Carlos over the locals who I’m sure BioHumanity had under their control.”

  “I’m finding Vua had a lot of people under his control,” Sabrina replied.

  He shook his head. “I just wish … I hadn’t been so bullheaded. It caused me to miss the connection between the murders.” He paused. “And by the time I did, you were here.” He turned toward Carlos. “This woman’s determination is unbelievable. Three of my men couldn’t have done what she figured out.”

  Sabrina blushed before putting an arm around Gina. “You need to hear this woman’s story. She’s the hero in my mind. She saved my life.”

  Urbina eyed Gina. “A compliment from Sabrina? It must really be true.”

  They all chuckled. Carlos opened the driver’s door. “I need to take these men in.”

  “Just to make sure they don’t get any ideas, I’ll join you,” Urbina replied.

  When the men pulled away, Gina eyed Sabrina wearily.

  “What’s the matter?” Sabrina asked.

  “I’ve been dying to ask you if what Vua said is true—”

  Sabrina put an arm around Gina to comfort her. “I’m so sorry.”

  Chapter 57

  Dressed in a white and red patterned top matched with black pants, Sabrina sipped on a cup of cappuccino and gazed at the warm faces surrounding her.

  She was at the Neskowin coffeehouse just around the corner from the newspaper. Three of her closest friends, some newer than others, were gathered around a table enjoying the breezy July morning. Sabrina wished one more person could’ve been here to enjoy the moment, but Detective Urbina was off helping the FBI and would be traveling a few more weeks. Besides, there was no way she could get him to sit for five minutes, let alone an hour, and have a cup of coffee. That just wasn’t his thing.

  Across from her, Gina put down the morning newspaper she was reading. “This is an amazing piece of writing,” she said.

  Sabrina smiled. “After all that family went through, I just had to write something that really showed people what Eric Sanchez stood for. He paid the ultimate price for being the first to speak up and I want people to understand what a big loss he is.”

  “But he wasn’t all good,” Helen added. “He did have an affair.” She was sitting to Gina’s left, clearly happy to be reunited with her ex-roommate.

  “I know!” Sabrina said. “It’s still hard to believe. But after meeting Mona, I felt like she didn’t know what to do … and I don’t think she had any idea what she was getting into. I mean, I still feel sick to my stomach for what they did to her.”

  “Maybe she didn’t know he was married?” Helen pondered.

  “That’s possible. But she was his admin—she must’ve taken a call or two from Carla at some point.”

  The man sitting next to Sabrina raised his mug. “Well, I want to give a toast—here’s to Sabrina’s perseverance,” he said, a baseball cap drawn low over his eyes.

  “Either that, or New York stubbornness and stupidity.” Sabrina replied, laughing.

  “So true!” the three chimed in.

  “Hey,” Sabrina replied, faking hurt.

  “I’m just glad Blogg decided to pick up your freelance piece and print it. It was the right thing to do,” the man said.

  “I think he felt guilty beca
use he never believed a know-it-all rookie reporter knew what she was talking about,” Sabrina surmised.

  “Or he felt guilty for firing you,” the man suggested.

  “He’s the one that looks like an idiot,” Helen added.

  Sabrina took another sip and gazed out the window. It had been forty-eight hours since that horrifying day in Acapulco, a day that branded a memory she’ll never forget. But today felt different. She felt at peace with herself, with her sister’s death, almost as if she was finally healing. It was something she so desperately wanted since picking up her life and moving west. Sabrina turned to the two women across from her. “Thank you so much for coming up. It really means a lot to me.”

  “I wanted to do it,” Gina replied, “to support you anyway I can.” She then said, “Besides, I would’ve been at home anyway … nervous … waiting for the news.”

  “I think we all are,” Sabrina said.

  As if on cue, Gina’s cellphone rattled on the table. She looked around at the others and then whispered, “It’s the hospital.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Helen said, handing her the phone.

  Gina pressed it to her ear. “Thank you so much!” Gina replied after a minute. “That’s the best we can hope for. We’ll just have to wait and see now.” She put the phone down. The others crouched forward, eager to hear the news. “They just finished the operation. Everything looks good so far. Blair is in the ICU, heavily sedated, but the heart transplant seems to have taken. It’s beating on its own!” she said excitedly.

  “Oh, Gina,” Sabrina said, “that’s great news.”

  “And from what they can tell, her body doesn’t seem to be rejecting it.”

  “That’s definitely what we hope for when a donation comes from a sibling,” the man said.

  Sabrina nodded. “And thank God the emergency crew was trained in handling organ donations.”

  “Agreed,” the man replied. “It made a huge difference when they attached Gregory to a medical ventilator to keep his heart going.”

  “I just wish it could’ve been different,” Helen said. “I mean, it’s not fair Blair had to lose her brother just to stay alive.”

  “He so loved his sister … would’ve done anything for her. That’s the saddest part,” Gina said.

  Helen looked at Sabrina. “So what’s next for you?”

  “I think I might stay here.”

  Helen looked surprised. “Even after all you’ve been through? And still no job?”

  A nod. “I’m serious. This town’s been through a lot … we’ve been through a lot … and I can’t just pick up and leave. Not now. Not when things are just starting to become normal again.” She turned to the man next to her, the baseball cap hiding the shaved head and bandaged temples, and put her hand on his. “Besides, if I left, I would lose the man I’ve fallen for.”

  Brieman returned the favor, putting his hand on hers. He then said, “If she only knew she had me when I first laid eyes on her.”

  “Oh, I knew. I was just playing hard to get.”

  Brieman smiled. “Besides, we’ve proven we’re a good team.”

  “No … a great team,” Sabrina interjected.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Brieman replied, taking a sip.

  Suddenly, the coffeehouse door burst open and Blogg and Getty walked in. “Sabrina!” Blogg said, beaming with excitement. “I’m glad I finally found you.”

  Sabrina rolled her eyes when she saw them both. “Sure. Now you need me,” she replied wryly.

  “Have you heard the news?” Blogg asked.

  “No, not this morning. I’ve been trying to take it easy the past few days.” She paused then said, “I needed a little down time.”

  Blogg and Getty each pulled up a chair. A rare smile flashed quickly across Getty’s face. “It seems our little hometown paper has been flying off the shelves since your article was printed,” Blogg said.

  “Yeah, well, just remember I did it for Eric, not you.”

  “Touché … touché. But it also seems we’ve gotten noticed by the networks. The big four called the office and want to do an interview with you.”

  “What?” Sabrina said, barely containing her excitement.

  “No way,” Gina added.

  “Yeah, your story was definitely your coming out party. I put it on the wire last night. Headline News picked it up, mentioned it briefly, and now people are jamming their email and Twitter handle, clamoring for more details. The public is shocked an American company was somehow able to pull this off.”

  “Of course, when you bribe and murder people, that’s bound to shut people up and keep things quiet,” Sabrina said.

  “BioHumanity is collapsing,” Blogg declared.

  “How so?” Brieman replied.

  “We have reports this morning the Mexican government has completely shut down the Heart Center on pressure from the U.S.”

  Helen shook her head. “What about the people waiting for a transplant? They must be devastated. I mean … this was their last hope.”

  Sabrina nibbled on her lower lip. She had been thinking about that possibility the moment she left Acapulco. An idea, born yesterday while finishing her article, just might help them.

  “There’s more,” Getty stated. “The FBI apparently got wind of their network and raided all the clinics they had records on. … It’s gotten ugly for a lot of people.”

  Sabrina eyed Getty, sporting his usual checkered shirt and grizzly face, and shook her head. He’s such a lumberjack, she thought. “So why are you here anyway? To sing my praises or throw me under a new bus?”

  Getty looked her straight in the eye. “You know I’ll always say what’s top of mind.”

  “Certainly know that.”

  “When I screw up, I’ll admit it. And I screwed up. It wasn’t fair what I did to you. I just might’ve been a little territorial.”

  “You think?”

  Getty let out a sheepish grin. “Deserved that.” He held out a hand. “Maybe we can start over.”

  “So you’re apologizing?”

  “He’s really not that bad of a guy once you get to know him—a helluva writer, but just a little rough around the edges,” Blogg said.

  Sabrina eyed Getty closely, then replied, “I’m not sure we’ll ever share a drink over dinner but I’ve been taught to give people a second chance.” She grabbed his hand and they shook.

  Getty leaned back and studied her. “Can I ask you something?”

  “That depends.” She was half-serious.

  “There’s more to this, isn’t there?”

  Her demeanor became serious. “How do you mean?”

  “The pictures—this was personal, wasn’t it?”

  Blogg jumped to his feet. “C’mon Getty. That’s enough.”

  Sabrina grabbed Blogg’s shirt and pulled him back down. “Jim, it’s okay. It really is.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Sabrina nodded. “Seriously. It is.” She turned back to Getty. “You’re right. It was personal. But I also realized why I was so determined to investigate Eric’s killer—it was part of my own grieving. I just … needed to find some closure for my own sister’s death.”

  “And now?” Getty asked.

  Brieman put an arm around her. She thought for a moment and then a smile spread like sunshine on a warm day. “I’m in a good place. Yeah … a really good place.”

  About the Author

  M.G. Scott, author of numerous short stories and long-form fiction, has earned accolades from a number of writers associations for his dialogue and creative storytelling. As a veteran of technology companies from the Bay Area to Boston, M.G. uses this experience to form the backbone of his novels. M.G. lives in the Chicago area with his family and several pets, including a black Labrador and guinea pig. Savage Heart is M.G.’s first thriller.

  Visit www.mgscott.net to learn more.

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