A Lifetime of Vengeance

by Pete PJ Grondin

  * * *

  Donnie Lee had finished cleaning his shotgun and placed it in the gun case in his living room. He left it unlocked in case he needed to access it quickly but there never really seemed to be a need. It wasn’t like he was going to shoot it out with the cops. Not many folks knew about his real business except customers and there were few of them, in relative terms. Dealing at this level had real advantages. You dealt with fewer people and you got paid extremely well. You didn’t have to fool with the nickel and dime punks who thought that they were hard. Most street punks thought a whole lot of themselves. They dealt with far too many people who they didn’t know from Adam. This put them in more danger than they realized. It’s amazing how many of these rich, whiny kids squealed when faced with a simple possession charge. They had no problem ratting out the guy who sold it to them. Punks, Donnie Lee thought to himself. He was thinking about the deal that he, Bobby, and Jamie were to handle tonight. It was dark at 10:30 pm. The TV was still on with the surround sound going. He’d changed the channel to Great American Country, the country music 24 hours a day channel. A hot new female country singer was on strutting around the stage at the Grand Ole Opry. She looked real good and sang like a pro.

  The clank of what sounded like tin cans rattling together startled him. It sounded like it was coming from the back yard. He rose from the couch, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, shook his head to get the cob webs out and walked towards the eight foot patio doors. He heard the clanking again and thought that it sounded like a trash can being tipped over, but there were no trash cans in the back yard. He stood in front of the door, looking out onto the lighted grounds around the house. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It was a good 250 yards to the grove behind the house. Maybe some kids were having a party back there. He’d have to look in the morning to see if there were any signs of mischief. Lots of kids went parking in groves around central Florida. Donnie thought, that’s how I got my first lay. Kids will be kids.

  And that was Donnie Lee Lester’s last coherent thought.

  * * *

  The view through the crosshairs was clear and sharp. Donnie Lee’s head looked as big as a basketball through the scope. When he stopped in front of the sliding glass door, he might as well have put a gun to his own head. The .338 caliber projectile covered the 280 yards in a fraction of a second. Donnie Lee’s brain barely had time to register the muzzle flash before the impact of the bullet pierced his skull. Glass shattered and Donnie Lee’s head snapped back. He was down.

  Radar released the pressure on the trigger of the powerful Remington SR8 sniper rifle. He released the slight pressure on the trigger, let out a breath of air slowly, and viewed the fallen target through the scope for several seconds. Satisfied that his job was a success, he cleaned up the area and left the grove.

  * * *

  Jamie Watkins was heading towards Donnie Lee’s house when he saw the lights flashing and the traffic slowing. There was an officer trying to keep people moving and even though Donnie lived on a country road with little traffic, there were at least four cars just idling along, trying to catch a glimpse of something that they could tell their friends and neighbors. Jamie would have laid on his horn in normal circumstances but these were obviously not normal. His mind started to run at a hundred miles an hour trying to determine what could have gone wrong. He was supposed to meet Donnie and Bobby and head for the pickup point. Bobby’s car was amongst the half dozen Orange County Sheriff’s cars, rescue squad and what, a helicopter in the back? “What the fuck?” Jamie said out loud, loud enough, in fact that the sheriff directing traffic heard him and asked, “Pardon me, sir?”

  “Sorry officer, I’ve just never seen anything like this out here before. What’s going on anyway? Looks pretty bad.”

  “Sorry, sir, can’t say.” Can you please keep moving? Don’t want to have an accident. We have enough problems here.”

  Al Poreczwski was starting to see a pattern, one that he didn’t like; two shootings with a high powered rifle from long range. That was no coincidence. There had to be a connection. This job was nearly identical to the Vallero shooting except in detail: This guy survived, though barely. He’d lain in his own blood for nearly an hour before he was found by a ‘friend’. The friend was one Bobby Acquino. He was in tears when the Sheriff got there, holding his friends head in his hands, mumbling something about ‘getting out too late.’ He was reciting prayers over and over again. The paramedics had to nearly pry his arms from around Donnie’s neck. He was covered in blood that had started to dry. The sickly copper smell permeated the room where Donnie was found.

  During questioning, Bobby had said that he’d come over just to hang out, watch TV and drink. They had no plans to go anywhere but they did sometimes go out to any number of bars. When asked what he meant by his comment ‘getting out too late,’ Bobby stated that he didn’t remember saying that. After that, he wasn’t too cooperative.

  The crime scene investigative team was combing the grove behind the house. They found an area that appeared to have been recently disturbed but there were no visible foot prints, no gun casing, or real hard evidence. They found that an orange tree branch had been used to wipe out most of the shoe prints though some partial prints were visible. These would be processed but they’d have to piece together numerous partial prints to make anything near a full shoe print. Even that was a long shot. The spot where the orange tree branch was found was where the tire tracks started. Whoever was there had torn out of there, kicking up quite a bit of sand. They had to follow the tracks for about 50 yards until they came across tracks that they could process. Other than that, there was an area that appeared to be kind of a party spot with a fire pit. These were not uncommon in Florida groves. In the pit, which was cold to the touch, about half a dozen cans were tied to the end of several strings. When the investigator picked them up and shook them, they made a heck of a lot of noise. The investigator thought is this what lured him to the back door? That was the only real evidence found at the scene that night. If there was any other forensic evidence to be found, it would have to wait for the light of day.

  Donnie Lee was rushed by helicopter to Orlando Regional Medical Center. A neurosurgeon, Dr. R. J. Stein, was called in to assess his chances of survival which were immediately determined to be minimal. He was in critical condition. Activities were limited to those that would help stabilize his vital signs and hopefully keep him from getting any worse. Surgery was out of the question, at least for the time being. Dr. Stein gave the nurses their orders. He was to be informed of any significant changes in his vitals. The next 24 hours would determine if he had a chance to live or not.

  Bobby Acquino raced to Orlando Regional as fast as he could. He pulled his car up to the circle and stopped it right in the fire lane, hopped out leaving the car running and raced into the lobby of the huge hospital. Like all hospitals, Orlando Regional was kept cool and sterile. He asked at the reception desk where he could find Donnie. In turn the desk clerk asked him if he was family. When Bobby said he was the closest thing to family that Donnie had, the clerk told him with no emotion that only family members could see him. He would have to wait until family was notified. Bobby said he needed to speak with the attending doctor. Again the clerk said that he couldn’t do that because he wasn’t family.

  Bobby had one last question. “Where is the hospital chapel?”

  Finally, a question the clerk could answer. “The chapel is on the second floor to the right after you get off the elevator, then a left. The chapel is just down the hall.”

  The clerk was about to ask if there was anything else she could do for him, but Bobby was already heading for the chapel, too much in grief and fear for his friend’s life. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that his life might be in danger as well.

  Chapter 27

  Ray Krebs’ pager beeped. He wasn’t expecting to hear from anyone and this annoyed him. He was driving along State Route 441 near Apopka when he read the
number on his pager. It was Jason Roberts’ number and it had a priority code that he should call Mr. Roberts immediately. This couldn’t be good news. Mr. Roberts never contacted Ray directly for any reason. So this came as a big surprise and a source of instant concern. He pulled into the 7-Eleven on the north end of town and dialed the number. Jason Roberts answered the call before the first ring was finished.

  “What am I paying you for?” he shouted into Ray’s ear. “I got guys getting whacked in their own homes and no arrests? You better get whoever the fuck is poppin’ my guys off and fast or you’re gonna join ‘em. You got that Krebs?”

  “Yes sir,” Ray said into the handset. But Jason Roberts had already hung up. Ray understood that he had orders to get to the bottom of it and put a stop to whoever was killing Jason Roberts’ men. That would be no small task because he had to stick his nose where it didn’t belong; Homicide.

  * * *

  Lisa was afraid that Joe had stood her up on their first . . . what date? This was just a neighborly swim. Can you stand someone up on a swim? Well, he was over fifteen minutes late and she really didn’t want to stay by the pool alone at night. The apartment complex was pretty safe by most standards, but there’s always a chance that some creep is lurking in the bushes. And there were plenty of bushes to lurk behind by the pool. Also, a number of apartments had patios or balconies that opened right on to the pool area, separated only by a rod iron fence. That wasn’t much protection. The good news was that it appeared that lots of folks were home to hear her scream if she needed to get their attention.

  The pool itself was about fifty feet by twenty-five feet, rectangular; nothing fancy but well kept. The grounds were well maintained, attractively landscaped and stocked with decent pool-side furniture. Several tables had oversized umbrellas meant to provide shade for the fair skinned moms who watched their kids splash and play with their inflatable rings. There was a kiddy pool for the really small children in its own fenced in area and there was a shower at the entrance with cold water. Sometimes in the mid-day Florida heat, the cool water coming out of the shower was scalding hot, but just for a few seconds. You had to be careful though so you didn’t get burned with the superheated mist.

  There were no kids or moms here tonight. The pool area had been abandoned for the time being. Joe approached the pool’s gate, spotted Lisa and immediately began to apologize. “I’m so sorry. My brother Pat was at my apartment when I got there. I had to talk with him for a few minutes. I lost track of time.”

  Lisa was very gracious. “Don’t worry about it. Is he still there?”

  “Nope. He left right after me.”

  “Why didn’t you invite him down for a swim? I’d like to meet him. Which brother is it? Didn’t you say you had two brothers?” She seemed genuinely interested.

  “He has a long drive ahead of him. He’s headed back home to Dunnellon tonight. Pat’s my older brother. He and his family just bought a house there.”

  “Isn’t that north of Tampa?”

  “Yeah. Seems like a nice area. The only thing is it’s near the nuclear plant, within about twenty-five or so miles I think.” Joe wasn’t afraid of nuclear power plants. He just didn’t think that property values would hold up well in that area. One accident somewhere in the world and home prices in the vicinity of every power plant in the country would plunge. That’s what he believed anyway.

  “So he’s married? Any children? You have nieces and nephews?”

  “I have one niece, Anna, and one nephew, Sean. Sean’s about five, I guess. Anna might be three now. I can’t remember her birthday but it’s coming up soon.” Joe’s smile widened as he talked about his niece and nephew. “They’re both the cutest kids. They take after their Uncle Joe.” Joe and Lisa moved towards one of the lounge chairs and took off their shirts that covered their suits. Joe’s was still covered in sweat since he had no time to shower and change. Lisa looked fresh as a morning flower. That didn’t get passed Joe. He walked over to the shower, stood aside and turned the handle until the shower sprayed a pretty good volume spray. He jumped under it and did a quick rinse. The water was still warm from being heated earlier in the day. He released the handle shutting off the spray, shook his head and wiped his face with his hands. Lisa didn’t miss a single muscle ripple. They moved into the pool using the steps, following the pool rules of ‘No Diving’ because there was ‘No Lifeguard on Duty’ and they would of course ‘Swim at their own Risk.’ There was an emergency phone station in case someone broke the rules and dove straight into the pool wall and broke their neck. But as careful adults, that didn’t happen. The smiles were bright, the conversation cordial. Joe and Lisa chatted a bit then Lisa mentioned the bet. They started at the far wall.

  Joe said, “Ready? Go!”

  And the race began. It was quite competitive for about the first twenty five laps. Joe was pacing himself for about the first twenty, but Lisa appeared to swim free and easy, with little apparent effort. At lap 32, Lisa was nearly a full lap ahead. Joe started to push himself to catch up. In order to drive himself, he thought about the plan and how he and Pat needed to be very cautious with the out of place killing of Randy Farley. His hate and anger made him push even harder and he began to gain on Lisa, even without knowing it. He was concentrating on other things now. When he was nearly even with her, she kicked it in gear herself. Heading into the last lap, they were neck and neck. Lisa made one final push and reached just before Joe. To her surprise, Joe turned and kicked off the wall and headed back for another lap. She hopped up on the edge of the pool and sat, catching her breath while watching Joe as he made the opposite turn and headed back her way. She saw the expression on his face as he turned for a breath. He was really pushing even though the race was over. As he reached for the wall, Lisa put her hand down so his hand touched hers instead of the wall. He stopped abruptly and stood upright and looked at her with a shocked expression.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Joe continued to take deep breaths while he regained his composure.

  “Are you okay? You really push yourself too hard when you work out. I promise I won’t make you take me anywhere expensive for dinner.” She smiled and said, “I won you know.”

  Joe could do nothing but smile when she told him this. He’d obviously lost count of his laps. She must have won, but it didn’t matter to Joe. He’d have flown her to Alaska for Snow Crab if she’d wanted to. He was head over heels. His heart was pounding in his chest, partly from the swim in the pool, but mostly from swimming in a sea of love.

  Chapter 28

  When Pat pulled into his driveway at 11:30 PM, he was exhausted, not from any physical activity, but from a mental workout. His mind had been racing for days, ever since the last time he spoke with his loving wife. How could I be such an idiot? I have really got to get it together. Diane is going to shoot me as soon as I get out of the car. I just know it.

  He turned off the headlights and engine. He thought about turning the lights off down the block and cutting the engine as he approached his drive but that would never work. His luck, with all the power steering and power brakes off, he’d plow into the house; Diane’s new house. If he thought he was in trouble now, he’d really be in deep dung then. As he got out and closed the car door, the front door of the house opened. Diane started walking towards him but then broke into a trot. They met midway between the car and the house, tears streaming from both of their eyes. The kisses came hard and fast. Pat tried to push her away to say he was sorry, but Diane would have none of it. She only held him tighter and kissed him harder. This went on for over five minutes before they finally came up for air and hard looks into each other’s eyes. They each could see deep love for one another. But Pat could see something else in Diane’s glossy eyes. He saw the hurt that he’d inflicted. Her eyes showed dark rings where she’d spent many hours crying.

  “I will never do this to you and our children again. You have my word.”

  “Just co
me in the house, you big jerk. Your kids want to see you.” She wiped away tears with the back of her robe sleeve, turned, stood at his side and grabbed him around the waist as they made their way back to the house. Sean met his mom and dad at the door with a big, “Daddy!! You’re home!” Anna followed her big brother and yelled, “Daddy!” They both hugged their dad and kissed him with sloppy, wet lips. Pat’s eyes welled up again as his kids gave him a hero’s welcome, a welcome he knew he didn’t deserve.

  After Sean and Anna were tucked into their beds, content with the knowledge that their dad was finally home, Pat and Diane sat down in the family room. The moment of reckoning was at hand. Diane didn’t know what to expect but she knew something big was coming. Pat took a deep breath, looked around the room, at the rosebud texture of the ceiling. The new wall paper that Diane had put up was just beautiful and matched the curtains perfectly. She had a knack for design that rivaled many professionals. The fireplace looked ready for lighting but in the Florida heat, even at night this time of year, there was no need for a fire. Besides things were getting pretty hot under Pat’s collar already. He was in the hot seat and had a lot of explaining to do.

  “Take your time, honey. I know you’re nervous but there’s nothing to worry about. I love you and we’ll get past this . . . this . . . whatever it is.”

  I wish I could tell you everything, Pat thought. That would make things so much easier on me. But I’m sure it would destroy you. And I can’t do that. “Well, I know you met Brian. He came to see me at the grove.” There. The first truth is out there, and she hasn’t killed me yet. But the night was long, and it stretched into morning. Neither of them had to go to work, so no time like the present. Pat spilled his guts about almost everything. He told her about the grove and the nursery. He told her about the money that they made in both and how they skimmed cash and paid far less taxes than they should have. He told her about how their friends started to turn on them. What he didn’t do was tell her that he dealt drugs and that’s where the ‘real money’ came from.