Secrets In The Breeze
Page 4
"I've met a lot of people. Why would they pull you in here just for that?" he asked.
"Well, I was also the one who found her body. I pulled it up from the water in a fishing net."
"And you're still going with the 'you didn't kill her' angle?"
"I didn't kill her!"
"I see," he said.
"What are we going to do?"
"Well, for starters you'd better start being fucking honest with me. Admit you killed this bitch so I know what the hell I'm working with here."
"Go to hell, asshole. I didn't kill anyone. And I never asked you to come here. Leave if you like. I don't give a shit."
"No, but someone far more powerful and dangerous did ask me to come here. To save your white ass from your own stupidity. So, if you want me to do that, I'm going to need you to cooperate."
"I am cooperating. I haven't done anything," I said.
"Fine, if that’s the story you want to go with. Fine by me. Do they have any proof on you? Any evidence, fingerprints, etcetera ..."
"No! There's no proof to be had. I told you. All I did was speak to the woman."
"What did the two of you talk about?" he asked.
Here we go again. But just like before, I wasn't about to dig this hole any deeper by telling anyone else what Sharon Rhodes was so afraid of. I just wanted to put this all behind me and figure out a way to get Rachel back.
"I don't remember. It was nothing. She was asking about the bar I think ..."
"Well," Juan said. "If they have nothing on you then they can't hold you. Let's go."
Two minutes later we were standing outside the police station next to Juan's shiny silver Jaguar. "I'll keep a watch over this situation. If law enforcement of any kind contacts you again, about anything. Refuse to speak unless I am present."
"I don't need you. I can handle myself."
"You'll be dead. So will your brother, and so will Rachel," he said, a mix of anger and impatience in his voice. "Tell me you understand. Not a word unless I am there."
"Fine!" I said, watching him slam the door and drive away.
CHAPTER NINE
"W E NEED TO TALK," I SAID, MARCHING INTO THE BAR.
"Okay," Micah said. "What did the police say?"
"That's what we need to talk about. I need for you to stay away from all of this. To not ask questions, to not try to help, nothing. I just need for you to not involve yourself any further in this ever-increasing shit pile that has become my life."
"What?" Micah said. "Are you serious?"
"Yes. Leave town. Go on a cruise or something. I don’t care. Just get out of here and away from me, at least for the next little while."
"I'm not gonna do that."
"Micah. Listen to me!"
"No! Who knows what would have happened earlier at that lake if I hadn’t shown up! You might be dead!"
"That’s a chance I'm going to have to take," I said.
"Do you understand how much of an ass you sound like right now?"
"I'm just trying to protect you."
"I don't need protecting all the time, Brandon. I'm not a little kid." Micah slammed his fist hard against the bar. "And what about Rachel? She went with you back in Miami, she went with you when you needed her. And before that, she came to see me in jail, every day. She put her life on the line too, Brandon. You think I don't owe her a debt? You think I'm not going to do what I can to get her away from that crazy bitch?"
"I'll get her back, Micah. I can do this on my own. That’s the way it needs to work."
"Not for me it isn't. I'm my own man, I can make my own decisions and I'm not gonna let you go risking your life so you can shelter me from the world. Once was enough. I'll fight my own battles. Now tell me, what the fuck is going on!"
"That’s the thing," I said. "I have no idea what's going on. Not really."
"Then we'll figure it out together.
"Micah! Please ..."
"Please what? Let you march into some war you're not prepared for. You'll die, don't you understand that. You'll die, and I'll have sat on my ass and watched it happen. Sorry, brother, but I can't agree to that."
It was like looking in a mirror. I couldn't help but see so much of myself in Micah. His passion, his anger, and his stubbornness. All just as strong as my own. But I still couldn't do anything that was going to put his life in danger. I had to find a way to keep him away from it all. I just didn't know how yet.
"Why are you being so difficult right now?"
"I'm not trying to be difficult. I'm just trying to make sure I do everything I can to help you out."
"You can help me by staying home. By not getting yourself involved," I said.
"Is that what you did? When I was in jail. Did you just stay out of it and hope it would all turn out okay?"
"That was different, Micah."
"No, it was the same, actually. You did everything you could to protect me. You put your own life and freedom in danger to save mine. And you expect me to repay that by doing nothing. By taking a step back. Fuck you, Brandon! You taught me better than that. I'll help you, no matter if you want me to or not."
I felt like my head was going to explode. I was getting nowhere with him. He was right in everything he was saying, he was totally and completely correct. I put everything I had on the line for him. But I was the older brother, it was my job and I needed him to give me the space to do it again. That was my role here. Do what had to be done to protect him, even if it was from his own ego.
"Fine ..." I said. "Then agree to this. Let’s both slow down. Once we figure out what's actually going on then we'll come up with a plan. But there's no sense marching into this thing blind."
"All we know so far, is thanks to your photos, Robert Webber isn't going to be the D.A. And, he was somehow involved with bringing what can only be drugs into Florida through Anna Maria Island," Micah said.
"Right!"
"So, what did the Longboat Key police want, then?"
"It was about a case they're working on. Randy and I were fishing, and her body got caught in the net. It has nothing to do with this. It was just bad timing."
"That is bad timing," Micah said. "So, what's our next move.?"
"I need to speak to Robert Mitchell, but I'm pretty sure Sofia Alvarez is having us both watched though. So, I can't just walk right in, and neither can you. We need a distraction."
I walked behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of Jim Beam, and poured two glasses. There had always been something calming about having a drink with my brother, for as long as I can remember, even before we were legally old enough to do it and we had to hide on the beach. Maybe it was the fact that I never got the opportunity to drink with my dad before he left, I can't be sure. But, somehow, sitting quietly with my little brother and just listening to the world spin around us made me feel so much closer to him. It was comforting and until that moment I had forgotten how much I needed that.
"I know!" Micah said. "There's a boat party on Bean Point Beach later tonight. Over on the edge of the island. We can use that."
"A boat party?"
"Yes. It'll be perfect. I'll make sure to stay in plain view, to keep anyone who might be watching us distracted. You sneak off and go talk to Mr. Mitchell, just be sure to show up at the party again before everyone leaves. No one will ever realize you left."
It wasn't a perfect plan, but in the moment, it was all we had. And like Micah said, if I could manage to get away and back again without being seen, Sofia would never realize I had spoken to Charles.
"I can't say I'm in love with this plan. But it’s not like I have a better one," I said.
"Well," Micah replied. "If we're going to a beach party, we need to get ready."
"We're dressing up?"
"Not you. You're dressing down. Shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals. If you're going to disappear into a crowd, then you'll need to blend in. I'll just make sure I stand out."
"You always stand out."
"Thanks, bro!" H
e smiled wide. "It just comes natural to me."
I was always a little jealous of the way my little brother could do that. Say things that were both cocky and endearing at the same time. Anyone else would have sounded like the world's biggest douchebag trying to get away with even half the things he says. But Micah had always known just how to walk that line. He was a people person, far more than I ever was. If there was one thing I could take from him, other than his abs, it'd be his people skills.
CHAPTER TEN
"I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ORDERED SO MANY OF THESE," I SAID, LOOKING DOWN AT THE BOX OF FREEFISH LOGO BASEBALL CAPS THAT SAT AT MICAH'S FEET.
"Yeah. I wanted to hand them out on opening night, but I guess this works too."
"And you really think people will wear these at a boat party?"
"People would wear a potato sack if it was free."
"I hope you're right," I said, sliding one of the black baseball caps onto my head.
It was almost 9:00pm and the boat party seemed to be in full swing as we neared Bean Point Beach. Bass-heavy music pumped through the air and spotlights reflected against the warm gulf water. There must have been more than thirty boats out there, each one packed with people. Even the beach seemed to be full of young people dancing around bonfires and out in the dark night water.
"My kinda party," Micah said, pulling one of the boxes from the back of my Jeep.
"Hats!" he yelled out to the crowd.
We both began tossing them into the crowd, and just as Micah said, people seemed thrilled at the thought of catching them. It was like a bouquet at a wedding. People kept crowding in front of us and we kept throwing them. It took almost twenty minutes for Micah and I to toss out all two hundred and fifty hats, but by the end, it seemed like every head on the beach was wearing one, myself included.
"See." Micah smiled. Wide. "Now you're just one among the crowd."
"Yeah. You were right."
"I usually am, big bro."
"You remember the plan, right?" I asked.
"Got it!"
With that, Micah grabbed the small blue duffle bag, pulled his T-shirt over his head, and headed out onto the sand. It was easy. I'd wait for my signal, then disappear into the water, find the boat Micah planted, and head to the other side of Anna Maria, near Key Royale.
Charles Mitchell had an office there, and if history was any indicator, he'd be there until well into the night working on his campaign. All I had to do was get there unnoticed and explain to him what was going on. That, and convince him to go along with my plan. Easy, right?
Following his directions exactly, I came to a small boatshed just off the main beach. Inside sat a small red and white speedboat. I wasn't sure how he'd gotten the keys to the thing, or even how he knew it was there, but at the moment I really didn't have time to care. I needed to get gone and back again before anyone noticed.
Readying myself I stood just outside the small building waiting for my signal, and it only took about three minutes before I saw it. A single firework shot straight into the sky, exploding into a ball of red fire. The crowd erupted into cheers followed by another firework, then two, then two more.
Quickly, I ran back inside, and fired up the small boat. The engine roared to life, but thankfully the sound was drowned out by all the commotion on the beach. Speeding out into the dark waters, I felt like I was home free. I could get to Mr. Mitchell, convince him of my plan, and I would make it back.
Thankfully, Micah's plan seemed to have worked, and as far as I could tell no one had seen me leave. I never really understood what it was about fireworks that attracted people so much, but they always seemed to draw a crowd.
When I arrived at Charles Mitchell's campaign headquarters, the few employees that were still there seemed to all be standing outside with their eyes transfixed on the sky. That made getting in unnoticed a piece of cake, and within moments I was standing in front of the soon-to-be District Attorney.
He stared at me easily, without much concern or curiosity about who I was, or what I was doing here. This must have been a sort of open-door headquarters because, when I saw the man, he smiled at me, held out his hand for me to shake and asked if I had 'received a button yet.'
I took his hand, though I ignored his question completely.
"Mr. District Attorney," I started, my tone rushed but as calm as I could manage. "You and I need to speak, immediately."
"Is that right?" he asked, his hand pumping mine firmly. "Well, while I'm sure you have more than a few concerns, I'm afraid you're catching me after business hours. If you'll call my office on Monday morning—preferably after I've gotten things moved in and my team situated in their positions—I'm sure someone will be more than happy to make a detailed account of your concerns."
"You're not understanding me," I said, pulling my hand away. "My friend is in danger, Mr. District Attorney. Your daughter is in danger, too."
"Excuse me?" the man asked, the official façade dropping from his face as his eyebrows knit together and his jaw tightened. "I think I must have misheard you."
"You didn't mishear anything, sir," I said, shaking my head. "There's a woman on this island, a drug lord who had your opponent in her hip pocket, and who would love to have a similar relationship with you." I took a breath. "My name is Brandon Waters."
"Brandon Waters?" the district attorney asked, backing away from me. Obviously, my reputation preceded me.
"Whatever you've heard—"
"What I've heard, is that you're trouble, sir," the man said firmly. "What I heard, is that you're a prime suspect in a newborn murder investigation, and even if you weren't, you were instrumental in destroying my opponent's campaign. If you're seen here, it'll imply that I had something to do with that. You don't know me, Mr. Waters, but I don't roll like that. I win fair or I don't win at all."
"Fair has nothing to do with this," I answered. "That ship has sailed, as it was. All we can worry about right now, is where we are, and where we need to go from here."
"Mr. Waters, leave this building immediately," he said.
"If I do that, my friend will die," I said. "And your daughter will be taken."
"My daughter?" he asked, balking at me.
"I told you, this woman wants you in her pocket. She'll stop at nothing to get that done."
"A drug lord wants to kidnap my daughter?" he asked. "My Zoey?"
"And she wants me to do it," I said. "She has my friend captive. She'll kill her if I don't—"
"Then, go to the police," he answered. "Tell them what you know. Tell them what's happening and give them as much information as possible." He nodded. "Then, when the time comes, testify against this woman."
"And what good will that do my friend, sir?" I asked. "She's going to die tomorrow if I don't do this."
"If you don't do what? Kidnap my daughter?" the man asked. "Did you really come here asking for my permission to forcibly take my daughter from me, sir? I would hope not, because I'm a second and a half away from calling the police myself."
"Of course not," I said. "That would be ridiculous." I took a deep breath. "I want you to pretend. Listen, this woman is coming after you. Even if I don't help, even if Rachel dies, she's still coming. You and your family are going to be in danger, no matter what." I shook my head. "Unless, like you said, I testify."
"I'm listening," he said.
"Let her attempt this," I said. "Let her commit a hundred crimes while trying to take your daughter. You have me on the inside. You'll be a step ahead of her, and more than that, I'll put her down. I'll sing like a canary, and you start your career as D.A. with the arrest of the century." I blinked. "And you'll know your daughter is safe. You'll know your entire family is safe."
"You'd have to wear a wire," he said after a long moment. "And I would need you to make a statement before any of this happened."
"Of course," I said quickly. "Anything you need."
"Do you have proof?" he asked. "Proof that this is happening?"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"S HIT!' I MUTTERED TO MYSELF, DUCKING BEHIND A LINE OF BUSHES.
I recognized the two men walking toward me as two of the men from the park. The ones hired to protect Sofia. How had they found me? I had only been gone a few minutes. Were they watching me that closely? Did they have a recording device in the bar? It made no sense.
"No way ..." one of them said to the other. "Nothing is sexier than a Spanish woman ..."
Good. Maybe they hadn't followed me after all, maybe they were just hanging around keeping an eye on Mr. Mitchell too. Maybe I could get away without being seen. Giving the men a moment to pass by I hopped up out of the bushes and headed down the sidewalk toward my boat, and just as my luck would have it, I bumped into another man, trailing some ways behind them. He too looked familiar, like we had met before.
"Mr. Waters. The dark-skinned man said as our two bodies collided. "What are you doing here? I thought you were at the boat—" The man's eyes widened.
He reached into his pocket pulling out what I thought was a gun. But as he clicked the screen I realized it was a phone. He was going to call someone, and I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let Sofia know I had spoken to Charles. Not yet. Lunging forward and grabbing the phone from his hand I gave it a toss out onto the sand.
"You stupid asshole!" he said, giving me a swift punch to the gut.
I leaned back, grabbing the back of his neck and pulled his head down to my raised knee. It hurt like hell for me, so I know it must have really hurt for him. He stumbled back more than a little disoriented, but quickly pulled himself together.
From a holster on his hip he pulled a gun, raised it high, and pointed it directly at me. I quickly dove across a small dune and into the tall grass. Shots fired out in my direction, one of them barely missing my leg. He was only steps from me and I knew the grass wouldn't hide me for much longer.
Grabbing two handfuls of dry sand, I leapt up, and coming from behind him, threw the sand into his eyes. He stumbled back, falling across the dune and onto the ground. Shots fired out again as he pulled the trigger aimlessly. I dove toward him, my body colliding with his, and began trying to wrestle the gun from his grip. He was strong though, stronger than me, and definitely not going down without a fight.