Last Call

by James Grippando

  "Talk to me," Miller said over the encrypted cell connection.

  Andie gave him the essential details and then launched into her recommendation. "Let's reactivate choppers and canine units. Get MDPD going door-to-door and highway patrol roadblocks on major east-west thoroughfares south of turnpike Exit 11. Reems is wearing a green-and-white madras shirt, khaki pants. Assume he's still armed and clearly dangerous. Estimate he's at most two hours out from our current position, but the timing of the neighbor's 911 call would put it at even less than that."

  "Are you certain that the subject left the target residence on foot?" asked the deputy marshal.

  "No vehicle sightings as yet."

  "What's your recommended containment perimeter?"

  "That's your call. But…"

  "But what?"

  She hesitated. Andie did like Theo, and what she was about to say would only make it harder to convince Jack that she wasn't out to get his best friend. "We have to deal with the likelihood that the subject will double-back to what he considers safe ground."

  "Meaning?"

  She hated to say it, but she couldn't ignore the information in the BOLO. "Sparky's Tavern."

  Chapter 8

  “The woman is trying to kill me," said Theo.

  He was speaking to Jack, who was seated on a bar stool at Sparky's. Theo was on the working side of the bar, his white shirtsleeves rolled all the way up to his bulging biceps and his Pop-eye forearms resting atop the Formica. An old Marvin Gaye tune – Jack's selection – played as the Saturday night crowd started to fill the booths and tables.

  Jack said, "Trina's crazy about you."

  "Stop being fecesish."

  "You mean facetious."

  "No, I mean you're talking shit."

  "Trina doesn't want to kill you," said Jack.

  "Maybe not. But she wants to hurt me real bad."

  "Let me talk to her. Where is she?"

  "Hell if I know. I told her not to come around here no more."

  Theo fished a dreaded hazelnut out of the bowl of mixed nuts on the bar and pitched it into a wastebasket thirty feet away. If hazelnuts were the NBA's sphere of choice, Theo would have been a Hall of Fame power forward.

  "Exactly what did she do that was so horrible?" asked Jack.

  "She told me to get a Prince Albert."

  Jack's expression was blank. "I have no idea what that is."

  "Neither did I, till she sent me down to the Keys to see this guy named Manny." Theo looked from side to side, making sure no one could overhear. The young women to Jack's left seemed sufficiently engaged in conversation with a couple of guys who – Theo would have bet his liquor license on it – had left their wives at home.

  Theo said, "Manny's a body piercer. And a Prince Albert is a metal ring through the head of your penis."

  Jack's mouth opened, but the words didn't come. Finally he said, "Ouch! Why would Trina want you to get that?"

  "Sends a woman into orbit, I guess."

  Jack narrowed his eyes, as if trying to imagine how. "Whatever turns you on."

  "Don't get me wrong. I dig a woman who's always looking for better sex."

  "They put it right through the head?" said Jack. Theo's last remark hadn't even registered. It seemed that Jack's internal pain meter was still processing the procedure, and his brain simply couldn't handle any additional information.

  Theo said, "They actually punch a hole on the underside, and they thread it all the way up and out through-"

  "Enough!" Jack closed his eyes, as if not comprehending, and then he opened them slowly. "I swear, sometimes I feel like I'm Rip Van Winkle and the whole world flipped out while I was asleep."

  "Don't beat yourself up. Turning myself into the Penis Currently Known as Prince is even too much for me."

  "So you're not going to get it?"

  "Can't."

  "Why not?"

  "Hey," he said, stepping back as he motioned toward his crotch. "They don't make rings this freakin' big."

  "That's a problem."

  "Not to mention the hassle. Imagine setting off metal detectors for the rest of your life and having to announce to the world, “Calm down, folks, nothing to worry about. It's just my dick ring.”

  "I can see where that would get old."

  "And let's not forget, we're talking about a ring, a needle, and the one-eyed monster. You don't go stickin' a needle in the monster's eye."

  "You make a strong case."

  "Damn straight."

  The married guys seated near Jack ordered cocktails for exhibits A and B in their future divorce proceedings. Theo was making cosmopolitans when Uncle Cy tapped him on the shoulder.

  "I'm feelin' tired," the old man said. "You mind calling me a cab?"

  "That's a thirty-dollar fare," said Theo.

  "I can take you," said Jack. He glanced toward the pool table, where Rene was emasculating an unsuspecting biker at a game of eight ball. "Rene and I go right by the Grove on our way home."

  "Thanks, but I don't want to cut your night short."

  "No problem. There are other bars in Miami."

  "No, there ain't," said Theo.

  Cy smiled. "I'll just lie down for a while in back. Let me know when you and Rene are ready to go."

  They argued about it for a minute, but Cy won out. He headed back to the stockroom adjacent to Theo's office, where Theo kept a cot. Theo was about to go along and help his uncle set up, but Jack stopped him.

  "Andie Henning came by my house to see me today."

  Theo laughed heartily, glancing toward Rene. "Timing is everything, ain't it?"

  "She was asking about Isaac Reems."

  "I thought the state attorney promised not to mention my name."

  "She kept the promise. They linked me up to Reems another way. But let's be real. Once the BOLO went out and said Reems was last seen at Sparky's, Andie must have immediately thought 'Theo Knight.'"

  "I'm surprised she didn't just call me. I got no hard feelings. The two of you didn't work out, but she's still welcome here."

  "After what she said?"

  "She didn't say nothin', Jack. You two were drinking, having fun. She made a dumb-ass joke about me landing you in jail."

  "Getting me disbarred," said Jack, correcting him.

  "Whatever."

  "Don't dismiss it. It bugs me, the way a cop's mind works. So what if the DNA proved you didn't kill that convenience-store clerk? If you didn't do that crime, you were probably doing something when the cops picked you up that night. Or, if you weren't doing something right at that very moment, you've probably done a whole lot of other things in your life."

  "I have done a lotta other things," said Theo.

  "That's not the point."

  "You're right. The point is, Andie made a joke, and you jumped all over it."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Forget it. Don't make no difference anyhow," he said, pointing with his eyes toward Rene. She was still having her run of the pool table. "There's your woman, right over there. Beautiful. Smart. Rich."

  "You know she gave away most of what she inherited. Tons for AIDS research. I'm guessing she's down to a million or less."

  "Down to a million? Like I said, she's freakin' rich, okay?"

  Jack gave a little smile, but it faded. "She's going back to Africa Monday."

  "Lucky you."

  "What?"

  "That's the way you like it, no? It's easy to convince yourself that you love a woman who's never around. It only gets hard when you have to admit you love someone who's actually here, in love with you, and ready to change your life forever."

  "That's such psychobabble."

  Rene waved to Jack from across the room.

  "If it is," said Theo, "then make her stay."

  "I can't make her stay. What am I supposed to do, kidnap her?"

  "Just make her not want to leave," said Theo. "I dare you."

  Jack finished the last of his beer. "All right, I
will."

  Theo waited, but Jack didn't move. "Well, go on then."

  "I'm going. As soon as I finish my brewski."

  "It is finished."

  Jack took a dry pull from the empty bottle. Theo laughed and gave him a friendly shove, but it was still hard enough to knock Jack off the bar stool and start him in Rene's direction.

  "There he goes, ladies and gentlemen: the world's greatest lover."Then Theo lowered his voice and added, "So long as there's an ocean between him and his woman."

  Theo watched as Rene stepped toward Jack to greet him, tossing her hair and slipping her arms around his waist as if they were a perfect fit. It made Theo think about Trina – a pleasant enough thought that was quickly interrupted by the imagined pain of a Prince Albert. But he still felt this sudden need to talk to her.

  The telephone rang under the bar. No one would expect him to pick up on a busy Saturday night – except Trina. Hell, what did she want him to do now, pierce his eyeball? He let it ring.

  "You want me to get that?" asked his cocktail waitress.

  "No," he said a little too firmly.

  The waitress shrugged it off and went back to slogging drinks.

  The ringing stopped. He could have hit star-69 to confirm his instincts, but he was sure it was Trina. She would want to know how it had gone with Manny the body piercer, and then he would have to tell her exactly what he'd just told Jack – that she must be out of her mind, and that it was over between them. There was only one problem. He wasn't sure he could say it.

  What's wrong with you, homeboy?

  The telephone rang again. Trina obviously wasn't going to take Theo's machine for an answer. He snatched up the phone and said hello. Dead air. It was one of those cheapo cordless receivers that worked about as well as the Batman walkie-talkies he'd stolen from a toy store as a kid. He pitched it aside and hurried to his office. That phone shared the same line, and it was ringing as he entered the room. He closed the door and started toward the desk, but his answering machine picked up before he could get to it. The recorded greeting was in Theo's voice, a throwback to his days as a jailhouse lawyer.

  "You have the right to remain silent… or you can leave a message at the beep."

  The tone sounded, and Theo waited for the message. He heard only traffic noises, which told him that it was either a cell or a pay phone. He wasn't sure why Trina would be calling from a pay phone – and then he realized who else it could be. Cy was in the next room, and Theo didn't want him to overhear a message being left. He picked up but didn't answer.

  "Theo, you there?"

  He recognized Isaac's voice immediately. He was about to speak, but then a thought crossed his mind. Jack had told the cops there would be no search of the premises, but what if they'd tapped his telephone, waiting for Isaac to call back?

  "Come on, dude. I heard you pick up the phone."

  Theo just listened.

  "Answer me, brotha'. I need a deal. I know you wanna deal with me, too."

  Theo wanted to respond, but the possibility of a law-enforcement tap on the telephone tied his tongue in knots.

  "What's the matter with you, boy? Say somethin'!"

  Isaac wasn't even trying to sound cool anymore. Sirens blared in the background.

  "Knight, answer me already! You hear me? I know you can hear – aw, fuck you, then. That's all I got to say to you. Just-"

  Theo waited for a click on the other end of the line, but it didn't come. He couldn't tell if Isaac was still there or not.

  The sirens were only getting louder.

  Chapter 9

  Isaac left the pay phone's receiver dangling from its metal cord. He was off and running with no idea where he was headed – a dangerous place for a fugitive to be. The dark cover of night was his only ally and even that was betraying him. Moon over Miami – the city was famous for it. Tonight, it was like a spotlight.

  Could the damn thing be any brighter?

  Thankfully the sirens had blown right past him. Two Miami-Dade Police Department vehicles were speeding west through the city of Homestead's business district, toward the turnpike. Isaac tried to tell himself that maybe they'd been called to a holdup at a liquor store or a domestic disturbance, but he was certain that the cops were hot on his trail. Choppers whirred overhead, their searchlights cutting like lasers through the night sky. It wasn't just a routine pass. They kept circling back, covering a defined urban and suburban area that included several square miles, but they seemed to be narrowing in on Isaac's present position. The canine units couldn't be far behind.

  It was time for a new plan.

  He sprinted down a dark alley in a strip mall and found himself at the loading dock behind a grocery store. He had to rest. Months of extra weightlifting in prison could only carry him so far. He hadn't focused nearly enough on cardio training. The side-stitch in his abdomen felt like a knife in his belly. Traces of smoke in the air from those brushfires in the Everglades were starting to bother him. Damn drought. He couldn't even make a run for the wilderness. Not that he would have wanted to go anywhere near that place after dark. It was Alligators vs. Pythons out there, nature's classic showdown between reptiles for the Everglades' title of chief predator. And the fires worked to the advantage of the police; they didn't waste their time trying to hunt him down in the middle of nowhere.

  Exhausted, he stopped and hid behind a towering stack of flattened cardboard boxes. He sat with his head between his knees, searching for a second wind.

  "Shoulda' killed him," he muttered beneath his breath. The smart thing would have been to take that hammer and bash the old man's brains in, just like he'd done with that little barking fur ball. Isaac's best advice inside the correctional center had come from a lifer who escaped from a Texas jail and got recaptured less than 300 yards from the Mexican border. "You wanna stay out of prison, you gotta take no prisoners," said the voice of experience. "It's their bad luck if they cross your path, but it's you or them." Isaac couldn't know for sure, but he figured that the old man had wiggled free from the rags that bound his wrists and ankles, run to safety, and dialed 911. The cops might not have thrown every resource into south Miami-Dade County based solely on a tip from Theo Knight, an ex-con. But a second sighting cinched it. All that could have – should have – been avoided with just one swing of the hammer.

  Fool!

  He kicked over a stack of boxes in anger, then calmed himself. None of this was his fault. A measly two thousand bucks was what he had expected from Theo's cash box. He got less then three hundred. That wasn't nearly enough for a new identity and safe transport out of the country. And some OxyContin. Grind those pills to dust and snort 'em. Oxycotton. One dollar per milligram on the street. A quick but expensive high, better than heroin.

  Gotta have it.

  Isaac pushed himself up from the ground. The box he used for leverage had contained produce, and there were still a few grapes inside. He sucked the juice out of them and savored the flesh. Even slight nourishment seemed to bring a much-needed clarity to his thoughts.

  Isaac could have come up with any number of ways to get his hands on two grand. Hell, that would have been a bad night's haul back in his days as a Grove Lord. But he'd resisted the impulse to pull off even a simple robbery save for the relatively risk-free theft of that homeless guy's clothes. His prison sources had warned him that police would be watching crime reports carefully looking for indicators of a fugitive on the run – stolen cars, weapons, drugs, and cash. He needed to score in a way that would keep him off police radar – like from a girlfriend or a buddy. Even more, he needed a front man he could trust to make all the arrangements on his behalf. Surely a reward was being offered for his recapture, so showing his face in a pawnshop or the like was out of the question.

  His thoughts kept turning to Theo Knight. Isaac still had leverage there.

  But he was running out of time to play it.

  The blare of police sirens again pierced the night. More squad cars were headed
toward the Florida turnpike. Isaac counted three this time, a slightly different sound than the last vehicles. Maybe state troopers. The cops had obviously gotten it into their heads that he was fleeing on wheels, which suited Isaac just fine. That was yet another way in which the likes of a Theo Knight could have worked to Isaac's advantage – someone to phone in false sightings to 911, orchestrated confusion.

  Gotta take another shot at Theo.

  Isaac looked up into the sky. The choppers were back, and it wasn't just the police. The television media were also getting into the act now. Isaac Reems was no longer the proverbial needle in a haystack. He had to go north, back to where his old friends from the Grove Lords still lived.

  Isaac had his wind again. He ran across the loading dock and didn't stop until he reached the chain-link fence behind the building. Intertwined with the fence was a thick ficus hedge, and beyond it was a twenty-four-hour diner. The restaurant was well lit on the inside, but the parking lot behind it was dark. Isaac heard the click of heels near the Dumpster, and he spotted someone walking toward a car. It was a woman – a waitress wearing her powder blue uniform. She was probably just finishing her shift. Tired, no doubt – her guard down. She was headed toward a Mustang. It wasn't new, but it looked fast.

  Isaac removed the pistol from his pocket – Theo's gun – and quietly hopped the fence. He made not a sound as he ducked behind another car. She didn't even look in his direction. She continued walking to her vehicle, in the dark, completely unaware. Just a teenager, probably six months out of high school. Too young to think anything bad could happen to her, too dumb to ask the manager to escort her to her car.

  Damn, I'm lucky and good.

  He continued along the perimeter of the parking lot, crouched below the cars to stay out of sight. She stopped. He readied himself. She gave a cursory look around, a woman's obligatory safety check, and then opened her purse. The jangle of car keys got his heart pumping, and he heard the car alarm disengage by remote control. As she reached for the door handle, Isaac sprang from behind the parked van and took her from behind. Before she could make a sound, his hand covered her mouth, and the gun went under her chin with so much force that she was staring straight up at the moon.