Chapter 52
Three shots rang out. I braced for the impact. The sound reverberated off the metal ceiling. People started yelling. I hadn’t felt anything. I opened my eyes. Saw D’Onifrio’s back. Bullet holes in the heads of Enrico, Little Ernie, Eduardo. D’Onifrio’s and Enrico’s people were only concerned with fighting each other. No one paid any attention to me.
I got down on the floor, slowly crawled away from the fighting. The route took me past the backhoe, the hole that had been dug in the concrete floor. At the bottom were three bodies. I recognized the woman who had met me at Mote Marine Lab. Realized they’d intended to dump all of us in this mass grave.
Using the backhoe as cover, I ran for the doorway where I thought they were holding Rosemary. Wrong door. I tried the next one to the right. It opened. In the darkness, I could make out Rosemary’s shape.
I undid the gag in her mouth, worked on the ropes that bound her hands and feet.
“Oh, Matt,” she croaked hoarsely, “I heard shots, thought they’d killed you.”
“He had more important people than me to kill. Can you walk?”
She stood. Tried to take a few steps. Was unsure on her feet.
I put my arm around her waist. Half walked her, half carried her to a door I hoped led away from the shop floor. Locked. The top part of the door looked like painted glass. I grabbed the chair to which Rosemary’d been tied. Used it to shatter the glass. Reached through the shards, unlocked the door, walked her as quickly as I could down a hallway. We navigated that hallway, two more before we found a door that let us out of the building.
“Where are we?” Rosemary asked, looking around.
All I could see in the night’s darkness was an expanse of parking lot, other industrial buildings nearby. There was a loud, roaring sound in the air. A commercial jetliner, gear down, flew very low overhead. “We have to be on the far side of the airport.”
On the left side of the building were a series of big, green dumpsters. I ran over, took a look. One was garbage. One was metal scraps. But the last was paper. I boosted Rosemary into the one filled with paper. “Hide under the paper. You’ll be safe there until help comes.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked before I closed the lid.
“Find a phone. Call the police.” I sprinted down the side of the building to the corner, stopped, peered around. Eight cars, three of them limos, were parked by a front office area. I didn’t see any guards, but that didn’t mean there weren’t drivers waiting in the cars.
I bent down, ran over, hoped the commotion inside would last long enough for me to make the call. I reached the cars. Looked for heads. Didn’t see any. I tried the first car. Open. No phone. Second car. Locked. First limo. Open. Phone turned off. Second limo. Open. Phone turned off. Third car. Open. Cell phone lying on the passenger seat. I snatched it up and ran to the building across the street, concealing myself behind shrubbery. I turned the phone on. Pressed 911.
“I need the police. Specifically, Lieutenant Ellsworth. This is an emergency,” I told the operator.
“I’ll patch you through to the police.”
Across the street people were starting to come out of the building. D’Onifrio was easy to spot in his tux. He got in one of the limos and was driven away. A few others got in cars, drove away. Most franticly searched the outside of the building. I knew who they were looking for.
“Lieutenant Ellsworth’s office, Officer Suarez speaking. How can I help you?”
“This is Matt Seattle. Ellsworth was looking for Rosemary Shears. I’ve found her. We’re at an abandoned industrial building across from Harris Industrial Plumbing on the far side of the airport. Tell Ellsworth that D’Onifrio has twenty people. You’ve got to hurry; they’re starting to leave.”
“We’re on our way.”
I clicked off. Watched. The searchers had spread out. There may have been fifteen, sixteen of them. They moved erratically, running from place to place. Several ran past the dumpster where Rosemary was hidden. None stopped to check. Two came in my direction, circled the building. Another one stopped, not more than five feet from me. I could see the gun in his hand, hear his breath coming in big gasps.
A horn blared. Three short blasts. One by one, the searchers returned, got in the two remaining cars, drove off.
I stayed in the bushes, waited for the police. A good twenty minutes later, they arrived. Three cars and two vans pulled up and began unloading men in full riot gear.
I left my hiding spot, joined them. Ellsworth saw me, came over immediately. I gave him a quick overview of what had happened. He listened intently, sent two policemen to get Rosemary. Gathered the rest, told them how he wanted them deployed, sent them out.
Ellsworth got a bulletproof jacket from the van, handed it to me. “Show me the door you came out.”
I put on my vest, led Ellsworth and three officers to the door. An officer opened it carefully; another ducked inside, pronounced it clear. We moved down the hallways to the door that led to the plant floor. Again, they went through the doorway carefully. Didn’t matter. The big room was empty.
The lights were still on. The backhoe was still there. D’Onifrio’s people were gone.
Ellsworth and I walked over to the hole. It was empty, too. The bodies had been removed. “I saw the body of a female D.E.A. agent down there,” I told him.
His face was grim. “No bodies, but plenty of blood. See all those dark spots.”
“More blood over here, Lieutenant,” someone called out.
We walked over. “This is where D’Onifrio shot Enrico and the nephews.” I pointed to where they’d had me standing. “Raines’ body was right over there.”
“Follow the trails; let’s find out where they went with all these bodies,” Ellsworth ordered.
“There’s a lot of blood on the loading dock, trails leading in,” one of the officers said.
“Show me,” Ellsworth told him.
We followed the officer to an open loading dock door on the backside of the building. Pools of blood littered the dock floor.
“Jesus,” Ellsworth exclaimed. He reached for his walkie-talkie. “Ryker, you’re in charge. Red team stays, seals up the area. Blue team heads back. Get the crime scene investigation people in here. Tell them this is top priority, bring as many people as they can.” He turned to me as he started to go. “You come with me.”
I didn’t move. “Aren’t you going to have D’Onifrio arrested?”
Ellsworth stopped, smiled. “You mean the man who earlier this evening was recognized by the President of the United States, the Governor of Florida, and numerous other dignitaries as one of the nation’s leading humanitarians?”
“He did this. He killed people.”
Ellsworth’s smile disappeared. “I’m sure he did. But it’s your word against his. By now, he has twenty witnesses who’ll say he was with them all evening. This whole thing was carefully constructed. We’re going to have to move cautiously.”
Ellsworth took me back to police headquarters in his squad car. On the way, I asked about Rosemary.
“We called in the medics for her. Report I got was that she was dehydrated, otherwise okay. They started fluids, took her to Memorial for further evaluation. We notified her husband, had a cruiser take him to Memorial to be with her.” He looked over at me. “Don’t worry; we’ll keep them both in protective custody until this gets sorted out.”
Knowing Rosemary was okay made me feel better. “Thanks.”
I was glad I asked when I did. Once we reached the station, I was taken to an interrogation room. Ellsworth had an officer bring me a shirt, something to eat and drink. Then, we went at it. He wanted every detail. I gave it to them. I talked as fast as they could type. When I was finished, they had me go over it again. When they thought they had it all, Ellsworth left.
He returned an hour later wanting additional detail on three areas:
Joe Jesso.
Raines.
The awards p
resentation.
I gave them what I could, but I was beginning to spit thin. They must have sensed that, too. We took a break, went down to the cafeteria, got coffee. Just walking, being out of that room, felt good. The hot coffee tasted wonderful. The respite didn’t last long. He walked me back to the room, closeted me there for the next two hours.
Ellsworth looked as tired as I felt. “Couple more questions and we’ll call it a night, okay?”
I nodded.
“When did Raines first know about the award presentation?”
I could picture us on board The Rarely Used, Raines drinking his Mountain Dew as Tory and I talked him through the idea. “Friday a week ago, why?”
“We’re trying to piece together a timeline of what D’Onifrio knew when.”
“Raines thought someone on your staff was leaking things to D’Onifrio.”
Ellsworth scowled. “The leak was at Raines’ end. Possibly a woman named Angelica Duartte. She’s missing.” He fixed me in his gaze. “Have you ever heard that name before?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Sometimes, she was called Angel.”
I kept shaking. “Not a name I know.”
“When he took you to City Hall, were there female agents with him?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t tell you if one of them was this woman.”
Ellsworth seemed disappointed. “Well, that’s enough for now. We’re—”
“Wait a minute. How did they get me out of City Hall? I thought all the doors were being watched, people were stationed around the outside of the building?”
“They were,” he said brusquely. “We had people around the building, so did Raines.”
“So what happened?”
“City Hall is undergoing electrical work. Electricians have been all over that building for the last month. We found a couple of them locked in a storeroom, unconscious. We’re theorizing that D’Onifrio’s men—posing as electricians—wheeled you out in a cardboard box, took you away in one of the trucks. Probably had you out of the building before anyone put together what was happening.” He looked directly at me. Our gazes met. “This was carried out like a military operation. Everything executed perfectly.”
I pictured the justice of the peace on the floor, the pool of blood by his head, the lady in the rose suit being hit in the head with the gun. “The people in the ceremony room? Are they okay?”
“The J.P.—can’t think of his name right now—is in critical condition. The woman, the clerk, is fine.” He paused. “We’re going to have you stay here where we can watch over you. Your friend, Ms. Wright, is waiting to talk to you.” He nodded at the officer who’d worked on my statement. “Hennings will take you to her and when you’re finished, show you to your room.”
Tory was in a similar interview room down the hall. When Hennings opened the door to let me in, Tory stood, came over and hugged me. “I was so worried about you,” she said choking back tears.
I held her tightly. “I’m okay. It feels so good to be holding you.”
Hennings closed the door, leaving us alone. As soon as we heard it click shut, our lips met. We kissed, long and hard.
“We’ve got to talk,” I said softly and filled her in on what had happened to me. “What about you? Raines said you’d be with him today. What happened?”
“That was strange. I arrived at his situation room at nine this morning, the time we’d arranged. I expected he’d be there. He wasn’t. No one knew where he was. They spent a lot of time trying to find him; when they couldn’t, this woman took charge.”
“Angelica?”
“Yeah, they called her Angel. She pretty much ran things. Then about one-thirty, right before the wedding, she walked out to get a soda, never came back. After that, the place got weird. I left. Got in my car, started home. Hadn’t gone four blocks when I realized there were a bunch of guys in a van following me. I decided not to take any chances and drove straight here. Been here ever since.”
“Have they been questioning you all that time?”
“Some. At first, they wanted to know what Raines was doing. Then as it got closer to the awards show, they asked me about that. Ellsworth and I watched it on cable. What a gala. Looked like the Oscars. When the show ended, they left me alone. Then you called and all Hell broke loose.” She came over, hugged me. “Thank goodness it’s over now.”
“It’s not. D’Onifrio’s still out there.”
She pulled away from me, her face alarmed. “They’ll arrest him, won’t they? You saw him kill those people.”
“Ellsworth said they had to move cautiously.”
Hennings returned. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to take you to your rooms now. I’m going off duty.”
I don’t know what I expected. Certainly not the Ritz Carlton, but my room was a no-nonsense bed, toilet and sink.
Henning stood at the doorway. “I’m not going to lock you in. You’re secure up here, but I’d suggest you stay in your room. Someone will be by in the morning, bring you breakfast.”
“Thanks.”
The metal door clanked shut. I went over and tried the bed. Not bad. I got comfortable and immediately went to sleep.
Day two in protective custody started early, was slow, tiring. At six a.m. I was awakened, a breakfast tray placed on my bed. When I tried venturing out into the hallway, I was told to return to my room. When I asked for Ellsworth, I was told he wasn’t available. Whatever that meant.
I did call Rosemary and Dan at the hospital, made sure they were okay, apologized for what I’d put them through. Dan, bless his heart, thanked me for all I’d done.
I expected a tray for lunch, too. To my surprise, Hennings reappeared, walked me to the cafeteria. Tory was already there. I learned she’d been in a similar room, hadn’t talked to anyone all morning, either. “What do you think is going on?” she asked when Hennings got up to get more to drink.
We got the answer at four that afternoon. Ellsworth, wearing a dark blue suit, white shirt, and red tie, met with us. He pulled the knot of his tie down, unbuttoned his collar button, rubbed his neck. “Paid a friendly visit on Mr. D’Onifrio early this morning. Asked him if he could account for his whereabouts yesterday evening. Of course he couldn’t give me an answer right away. Had to ask why I wanted to know, that kind of stuff. Made me work to find out he was at a party thrown by an associate, a VP at Shore. He called this guy in. I spoke with him. Of course, he confirmed D’Onifrio’s story, said twenty-five people were at the party. I got a list of names. We’re checking them now.”
“They’re cartel people. They’ll say whatever he wants.”
“I know,” Ellsworth said disgustedly. “I also met with Steve Shaffer, Raines’ boss. He told me he got a call at home from Raines Thursday night. Said Raines was feeling depressed, burnt out, needed some time off.”
“They made him make that call,” Tory said.
“You know that, I know that. The problem is they have duress words, words that let the other person know you’re being forced to make the call. Raines didn’t use any duress words. Not one.”
“That woman you mentioned—Angel—she’d know those words. She’d keep Raines from using them.”
“Shaffer is adamant there is no traitor in the organization. Told me they were a hand-picked team, impossible for D’Onifrio to crack.”
“What about her leaving the situation room and never returning?” Tory asked.
“According to Shaffer, she took a call about Raines’ disappearance, went to investigate, was back in the office later that afternoon.”
“That is so trumped up.”
Ellsworth gestured with his hands. “Shaffer’s covering his ass. He’s not going to be any help.”
“What about the blood? What about the bodies?”
“The blood is being analyzed. Bodies? We haven’t found any yet. We checked with the Colony Beach. According to the desk staff, Enrico and the nephews checked out yesterday evening. Airport records show the
jet left at ten for Miami.”
I sat back in my seat, dazed.
“I met with Pat Armstrong, the D.A., this afternoon. Went over everything with him. He doesn’t feel we have a case.”
“What?” Tory and I said together.
Ellsworth used his hands to tick things off. “No bodies. No cooperation from Shaffer at D.E.A. No chance to break D’Onifrio’s alibi. No winnable case.” He put his hands down. “Armstrong’s a political guy. Without something, he views prosecuting D’Onifrio as a P.R. nightmare.”
“So where does that leave us?”
“Exposed.”
Chapter 53
“What’s that mean?” Tory wanted to know.
“It means we’ll keep working on this. Keep trying to find ammunition for Armstrong to go after D’Onifrio. But I’ll be honest with you. Unless we get a break, that could take some time. I can’t keep you in protective custody forever. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to be on your own.”
Tory’s expression said she didn’t like what she was hearing. “You think D’Onifrio will come after us.”
“I don’t think he’ll come after you, Ms. Wright.” His gaze left Tory, settled on me. “He’ll come after you, Mr. Seattle. You witnessed him killing Enrico. He won’t leave you standing.”
“You can’t let that happen. You have to protect him,” Tory said vehemently.
Ellsworth’s tone was conciliatory. “We’ll do what we can. Short term, we can keep you here a couple of more days. Long term, you should start thinking about what you want to do.”
Start thinking about leaving Sarasota was what he was suggesting. Distance myself from the danger. What bothered me was I’d be distancing myself from it, not eliminating it. I’d always be looking over my shoulder, wondering if they’d traced me to my new location. “If I stay in Sarasota, what kind of protection could you provide?”
“I’d like to tell you I can give you good protection. But the reality of the situation is that I don’t have the manpower. For twenty-four hour protection, I have to use a minimum of three officers. That’s to have one person watch your back at all times. One person is not going to be able to stop them if they decide to come after you. I don’t know that ten officers would stop them. See my problem?”
Jay Giles Page 25
