Outcast

by Lewis Ericson

  Kevin shook his head. “No, I don’t. But I want you safe.” He started to the door.

  “Where are you goin’?”

  “I’m going to get Micah up and packed. You should do the same.”

  Pat rolled out of bed and scurried around the room, picking up clothes that had been thrown about the previous night, and then she went to the bathroom to get ready.

  The telephone rang as they ate breakfast together. It was the hospital calling to report that Betty was conscious. It would be one less thing for them to fret about. After seeing Pat and Micah off safely, Kevin headed to the hospital.

  He entered the room with a huge arrangement of multicolored tulips and Betty’s face lit up. He kissed her and then found a space to set them among the other flowers, cards, and get-well wishes.

  Betty cleared the hoarseness in her throat. “Lord, it looks like somebody died in here. I guess I almost did, didn’t I?”

  “Don’t even joke like that. You had us all scared that we were going to lose you.”

  “I’m a tough old bird. God ain’t quite ready for me yet.”

  Kevin frowned. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been asleep for a hundred years. I know my hair must look a sight.”

  “You look fine.”

  “I know better than that.” She pursed her lips. “Where’s the rest of the family?”

  “Pat and Micah went to visit her sister in New Orleans. Mama called. She and Jacqui wanted to come, but I told her it would be best for her to stay in California for now, considering there wasn’t anything they could do here. Miss Anne and Pastor Eason have been out here almost every day.”

  “Micah’s all right?”

  “Yes, he’s fine.”

  “What about Tirrell? Is he all right?”

  “Noonie, do you remember anything about how you got here?”

  “The doctor told me I was shot in the stomach. Last thing I remember was watchin’ TV and the next thing I know I’m wakin’ up in here. Who would do such a thing?”

  Kevin looked down at his hands. He wanted to tell her everything, but he wasn’t sure she was strong enough to handle it, or that she would believe it happened because of Tirrell. Fortunately, a nurse came in to check Betty’s vitals and granted him a reprieve. He used the opportunity to step out and call Pat.

  “Where are you?”

  “We just got into Alabama. Is everything okay? How’s Miss Betty?”

  “She looks good. She’s going to be all right.”

  “Thank God. Did you tell her anything about Tirrell?”

  “No.”

  “Are you still going to see him?”

  “I think I have to.”

  “Kevin, be careful.”

  “I will. I’ll call you later. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  The nurse came out and informed Kevin that he could go back inside. In order to keep Betty from getting overly excited he knew he had to tell her something.

  “I want to call Tirrell,” she said. “I need to check on him.”

  “You can’t,” Kevin followed. “His cell phone is disconnected.”

  “How much does he owe?”

  “Noonie, that’s nothing for you to be concerned about right now. Tirrell is fine. In fact, he’s been here to see you.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He’s staying with friends.”

  “Is it Marquis?”

  “No.”

  “Then who? Lord, it’s not that woman, is it?”

  “No. Not her—someone else.”

  “I want to see him. Would you please go by wherever he’s stayin’ and bring him here?”

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  “And, Kevin, promise me—no more fighting. Not now.”

  “I promise, Noonie.”

  Balancing slightly to the left of full disclosure wasn’t going to do her as much harm as knowing what her beloved Tirrell had gotten himself into.

  Kevin headed to The Mission as he promised, where he found Tirrell sweeping the floor.

  “Wow, look who’s here,” Tirrell sneered. “How’d you find me?”

  “Charlie Preston came to see me.”

  Tirrell looked around and saw Mr. Preston talking to a couple of the guys in the adjoining room. Mr. Preston glanced up and acknowledged him.

  “I need to talk to you, Tirrell.”

  “I don’t know, Kev. My calendar’s pretty full, sweepin’ and moppin’ and shit. Maybe I can fit you in next Tuesday.”

  “Cut the crap, Tirrell.”

  “Why do you wanna talk to me all of a sudden?”

  “It’s about Alex Solomon.”

  “You got the e-mail I sent you, right? You locked her ass up, right?”

  “Look, Tirrell, we need to go somewhere private.”

  “Yeah, a’ight.” Tirrell laid his broom against the wall. “Yo, Mr. P, I need to go have a talk with my brother. I’ll be back in a few, a’ight?”

  Mr. Preston nodded and Tirrell grabbed a jacket from the front closet and followed Kevin out. He chuckled when he got into the Explorer.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I was just thinkin’ about the last time I was in here. You’re not gonna hit me again, are you?”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  They drove off.

  “So, how’d you end up in this place, Tirrell?”

  “’Cause I didn’t have the money to get a room at the Marriott. How do you think?”

  “Still sarcastic as hell, I see.”

  “And you’re still a pain in the ass.”

  They pulled into a drive-thru, ordered two coffees, and found a parking space off Spring Street.

  “How’d you get your hands on that file you sent me?”

  “I saw Alex workin’ on somethin’ on her computer. She told me it was somethin’ about some event. I knew her cousin Bobby was into some shady shit, so I figured it was about more than she told me. I found this jump drive she hid and the first chance I got I forwarded it to my e-mail. If you hadn’t been such a dick and tossed that CD I left for you, you would’ve had the info a lot sooner. What did you think it was anyway, love songs?”

  Kevin sighed and pressed on. “You know Xavier Rivera.”

  “Yeah, I met him.”

  “You’ve been to his place in Miami?”

  “Yeah, and I know about this place over on Hardy Avenue. I went there with Bobby more than a few times.”

  “You know he’s dead right?”

  Tirrell’s jaws tightened. “What happened?”

  “We think one of Rivera’s people got to him. I want you to come down to the police station with me and give a full statement.”

  “I gave you the file.”

  “That’s not enough. We need every detail you can remember. Anything you saw or heard that could help put your girlfriend and Rivera away.”

  “And me. I get arrested too, right?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was with Bobby Williams when he transported cocaine over state lines.”

  “Do you want the same thing that happened to Noonie to happen to the rest of us?”

  “None of y’all ain’t never gave a damn about me except Noonie.”

  “What about your nephew, huh? Don’t you care about what happens to him?”

  “You know I do. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

  “But it did, Tirrell. If you really want to fix it, you have to go all the way, even if it means doing time.”

  “That would be just what you want, right? Get me out of the way once and for all.”

  “Isn’t one of the steps of NA to make amends, and to right the wreckage that you caused in people’s lives?”

  “I ain’t got that far yet. I’m barely out of step one.”

  “You want to be a man, go all the way.”

  Tirrell grabbed the door handle. “I’m outta here.”

  “Wait.”

 
“For what?”

  “I need your help.”

  “That promotion not comin’ as easy as you thought?”

  “This is not about my damn job, Tirrell.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m sorry for givin’ you shit. But, you’ve got to admit, trouble seems to follow you everywhere you go. Now you’ve got a chance to do something good. Do this for Noonie. You at least owe her that much.”

  “Oh, no, the hell you didn’t. You wanna throw Noonie up in my face.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “She’s awake, Tirrell. She’s asking for you.”

  “I wanna see her.”

  “Later. Right now you’ve got to give your statement so we can put Rivera out of business before he slips out of the country like Alex Solomon tried to do.”

  “What do you mean tried?”

  “The day you sent that e-mail she was on a plane to New York. She was going from there to Nigeria with her mother. She had an alias set up and everything. You said Alex did this to Noonie. Do you think Rivera’s going to stop coming after our family if she gets away?”

  Kevin removed the NA coin from his jacket pocket and tossed it to Tirrell. “I found this in Noonie’s hospital bed.”

  “Why’d you take it?”

  “You can give it back to her when you see her.”

  Tirrell got back in the Explorer and closed the door. “Fine. I’ll do whatever I have to do.”

  When they got to the police station, Kevin saw Alex in one of the interrogation rooms with Agent Oliver and a US Marshal.

  Alex glanced up at Tirrell with a smug look on her face and turned away.

  “Give me a minute,” Kevin said.

  He parked Tirrell in another room guarded by an officer, and went in to see what was going on. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or stunned that she’d made a deal.

  “You should be happy, Mr. Ellis,” Agent Oliver said. “Ms. Solomon is cooperating and has agreed to give us everything we need to nail Rivera’s ass to the wall. I’ve got a team raiding his Miami compound as we speak. We’ve not only got him on drug charges; we’ll have him for the murder of a federal agent, too.”

  “What?”

  “It seems Ms. Solomon was clever enough to get a video recording on her cell phone.”

  “What about Tirrell?”

  “Get his statement. Right now I would think he needs to be concerned about what the locals are going to do to him. We’ll know where to find him if we need him.”

  Kevin was infuriated that Alex Solomon would never have to answer for what he assumed she’d done to his family. His contempt for the process fell on deaf ears.

  Tirrell was questioned about Bobby Williams, but denied seeing him the day he was shot and confessed that he was somewhere getting high. With no witnesses and no physical evidence linking him to the shooting he was released into Kevin’s custody.

  Tirrell smoldered as Kevin drove him back to The Mission. “I can’t believe this shit.”

  “What?”

  “What? Did you just get dropped off on the planet?”

  Kevin scoffed and cut his eyes.

  “Alex just gets a pass? A new name? A different location? She doesn’t have to pay for any of this?”

  “Look, I’m as upset about all of this as you are, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  “Oh, you’re upset. Well, that makes me feel so much better.”

  “All the Feds wanted was Rivera.”

  “Fuck Rivera. I thought this was supposed to be about what happened to Noonie, too.”

  “We didn’t find the Mustang you and Marquis said you saw. And there was nothing to tie her to the shooting since you never saw who was in the car.”

  “Yeah, well she wouldn’t have bothered to get blood under her manicured nails,” Tirrell shot back. “It was Bobby. I know it just as well as I know my own name.”

  “We can’t prove that, Tirrell. And since he’s dead it’s not like we can ask him about it.”

  “Then I’m glad I did what I did.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothin’.”

  “What did you do, Tirrell?”

  Since he’d already denied his involvement Tirrell had second thoughts about incriminating himself. If Kevin had questions about what really happened to Bobby Williams he didn’t ask.

  “Shit,” Kevin spat.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s that van again.”

  “What van?”

  “I’m not trying to be paranoid, but I think we’re being followed.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I thought I saw this van at The Mission and then when we stopped for coffee, and now he’s behind us again.”

  Tirrell turned around. “You sure?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Kevin switched lanes on the interstate to make certain they weren’t being tailed, the van pulled directly behind him. When he slowed, the van slowed. He gripped the steering wheel and accelerated and the van stayed close. With a sudden jerk, Kevin swerved in between two other cars, nearly colliding with a small truck moving into the lane from the other direction—horns blared in disapproval. The van sped away.

  “What the hell?” Tirrell sighed.

  “I don’t know.” Kevin signaled and exited the interstate.

  “Where’re we goin’?”

  “I need to stop and get a pack of cigarettes.”

  “Since when do you smoke?”

  “Since when is it your business?”

  They pulled up to a convenience store. Kevin went inside and Tirrell went to the side of the building to take a leak. He finished up and headed back just as Kevin started out of the store. The van that had followed them on the interstate squealed onto the parking lot and Tirrell spotted a gun barrel pointing out of the passenger side window. He flashed on the Mustang and the night Betty was shot, but this time Kevin was the target.

  Tirrell bolted toward him. “Kevin, look out!”

  It was too late. The first round ripped into Kevin’s left shoulder and smashed the glass door behind him. Tirrell leapt in front of him, knocking him to the ground, and took the second blast to his back. An Asian woman inside the store screamed hysterically and dropped behind the counter. When he was certain that it was all clear, the male store owner ran out to see what happened. Kevin grabbed his arm and struggled to pull himself from under the weight of Tirrell’s body.

  “Oh shit,” he cried. He trembled as he cupped Tirrell’s face. “Oh shit.”

  “Is he dead?” the rattled store owner queried.

  “Call an ambulance!”

  The man turned to his wife inside and yelled in Korean for her to call, as onlookers swarmed from every direction. Tirrell’s body slumped over Kevin’s leg and blood spilled out like water and pooled around them. Kevin leaned against the wall of the building and wept.

  By the time the DEA and the FBI executed the raid on Xavier Rivera’s Miami compound he’d already fled and they found nothing. Alex was quick to remind Agent Oliver of her immunity, and it was her cooperation that gave them the ammunition to round up two of the six dealers listed in her files who operated out of other states. It would be solely up to them to track down and prosecute Rivera when and if they found him.

  After hearing about the blatant attack on Tirrell and Kevin Ellis, Alex feared more for her safety, and with good reason. As a condition of her deal, she was still pegged as the government’s key witness. Regardless of their safeguards, if Rivera was in a country that didn’t have extradition to the United States (and it was a sure bet that he would be) she knew not to rest too comfortably. The only thing she had left to barter with was her life, and if a hit had already been arranged, that life wasn’t going to be worth a whole lot.

  30

  Given all that had transpired, neither Thanksgiving nor Christmas were the joyous occasions they had been in years past.
While most people feasted on turkey and dressing and all the other trappings of the season of abundance, Tirrell, who barely escaped death, lay in a hospital bed attached to a catheter, intravenous drips of various fluids, and a machine that pumped morphine into his system.

  “Dammit,” Tirrell spat. “I need somethin’ else for this pain. This fuckin’ pump ain’t workin’!”

  “That’s because you just pushed it. You know it’s locked and you gotta wait ten minutes for the next dose,” the burly male nurse retorted as he maneuvered him for a dressing change.

  Tirrell’s eyes filled with tears. He gritted his teeth and scowled. “I’m tellin’ you this shit ain’t workin’. Why can’t you give me what you gave me the other day?”

  “Just let me get done here and I’ll call your doctor to see if he can order anything else for you, okay?”

  After the nurse finished redressing Tirrell’s wound, another nurse came in to draw blood. This routine had become the norm over the days following the surgery to remove the bullet from his back. Tirrell had been examined, monitored, poked, prodded, and, in his estimation, damn near bled dry. He was bombarded with redundant questions about how he was feeling, or sleeping, or his pain level and appetite. His legs were covered and massaged by long sausage casing–like sleeves that helped to prevent blood clots, as he lay for days on end wondering if he would ever walk again.

  The morphine was finally kicking in. Just when he thought he had a few minutes to close his eyes and get some sleep before someone else burst in to cart him off for another X-ray or therapy, Mr. Preston tapped on the door and stuck his head inside the room.

  “Care to see a friendly face?”

  “Yeah, come on in,” Tirrell responded groggily.

  He tentatively entered and approached the side of the bed. “I won’t stay long. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were.”

  Tirrell smiled. Since the day Mr. Preston first reached out to him, he’d become more of a father figure than any man in his life. He was happier to see him than his pride was willing to reveal.

  Mr. Preston pulled up a chair and sat down. “After gettin’ all these narcotics in your system you gon’ have to start the program all over again, you know that, right?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “And you thought it was rough before.” Mr. Preston chuckled. “You’re gon’ need some serious rehab now.”