Maid for Martin

by Samantha Lovern

  Rosa nudged her son, and the boy turned, looked up and down the beach, and finally spoke. “If he’s smart, he would have gone up the beach right there. There’s a bus stop on the other side of the street. It’s the best place to get off the beach. There’s several holes in the fence around there, too. I’d talk to some of the folks to see if they spotted anyone as they got ready for work.”

  “I’ll do that. You two excuse me for a minute.” Patrick walked over to Stella. “We’re looking for two men. Be sure that someone goes up and down the street to see if anyone noticed anything. Send someone up to the fence by that bench, see if they can find any signs of blood.”

  “Did someone see something?”

  “Antonio, though he’s not saying much. I’ll bet money the knife we found belongs to him. Do you think you could learn anything from those two?”

  “Na, not much. I did learn that their brother spends a lot of time on the beach. I could ask them about the knife.”

  “No, I don’t want them repeating anything that would put him on edge. We’re done with him for now.” Patrick moved to the buggy where the children were playing with the radio.

  “Come on kids, let’s go find your mother.” Patrick walked the children a few steps, and their mother walked away from the gruesome plane toward the yellow tape. The kids were talking non-stop as he took them to their mom. As the little girl turned loose of his hand, Patrick spoke. “Sorry, but I have to get back to work.” He smiled, and Rosa nodded.

  “Sure, you have lots to do.” Rosa paused, started to turn, and then looked at her son. “Antonio, take the twins home. I’ll be right behind you.”

  When the kids were out of earshot, Rosa smiled and looked Patrick in the eye. “If you need anything else, we’re easy to find. We’re the only house on the block with a Christmas tree in the window. The twins won’t let me take it down.”

  Patrick laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. By the way, I didn’t get your name.” He held out his hand with a smile. “Detective Patrick Donigan at your service.”

  “Rosalie Sanchez; pleased to meet you.” Rosa’s tone was low, and the smile on her lips let Patrick know he’d better watch his step around this one.

  Patrick smiled, gave her a nod, and turned to go back to work. He knew it would show a bit of weakness, but she was a beauty, so he turned to watch her walk away. The fact that she didn’t turn to see if he was watching told him one of two things. One, she didn’t care if he was watching, or two; she was convinced that he would be. He guessed it was the latter.

  Chapter 4

  Chicago

  Joe Morganson leaned back, looking at his desk; he couldn’t get his mind on paperwork. It’d been three days since he’d heard from his brother. He knew better than to worry. When an officer was working undercover, he didn’t always have time to report his status.

  Angel knew what he was doing; he was careful, but still Joe couldn’t help but worry. He leaned back, picked up his phone, and dialed his wife. It rang two times, and she picked up.

  “Hey, honey,” Nyssa answered.

  “Hey, babe, I know you’re busy running errands today, but have you heard from Charlie in a while?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “How long has it been since she called?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe a couple of days.”

  “Did she say anything about Angel?” Joe tapped his pencil on his note pad, waiting.

  “No, she was just calling to see if we’d heard from him.”

  “I see.” Joe sighed.

  “He hasn’t called yet, has he?”

  “No, he hasn’t.”

  “You haven’t told me much about this case, and I try not to pressure you when it comes to your work, but I’ve heard a few words here or there.”

  “You’re very patient. It’s not that I try to hide things from you. It's just . . . ”

  “I know; protocol.”

  Joe laughed. “Am I that bad?”

  “Sometimes, but I’m used to it. I do know you’re working with the ‘big boys;’ you let that slip last week. Have you heard from the DEA contact?”

  “No, and I don’t expect to. Angel’s clearance has been authorized, but they don’t want to hear from him until he’s got something concrete.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they think this is a wild goose chase; that the punk was just making this up.”

  “I see. So Angel has no real help.”

  “That’s about it, but he knew it going in and regardless of what the DEA says, Angel thinks the lead is valid.”

  “I guess we’ll see who’s right,” Nyssa added.

  “I just hate the waiting.”

  “I know, and I can hear the concern in your voice. I want you to know I’m praying over-time on this one. Try not to worry.”

  “You know better.” Joe’s voice was low and he leaned back, shaking his head. “I wish he’d never taken this assignment.”

  “Don’t you mean you wish he’d stayed out of law enforcement?”

  Joe laughed. “Sometimes. You can’t help but worry about your little brother.”

  “I know, but it’s what he trained for. He must like it. He’s a big boy; you have to let him make his own decisions.”

  “I know. I don’t have to like it. I thought once he and Charlie started dating, it would be the end of this undercover work.” Joe tossed his pencil on the desk and reached for his coffee.

  “I’m sure she was hoping the same thing. It can’t be easy for her not seeing him for weeks. I think that’s one reason she went home for a visit; she misses him so much.”

  “She should have thought about that before she agreed to date him.”

  Nyssa laughed. “You don’t get to pick who you fall in love with. Besides, she thought Angel was a bodyguard with not many values when she fell for him. When she found out he was a cop, I’m sure she was relieved.”

  “Well, she won’t be relieved when she’s not heard from him in days.”

  “He’ll be okay.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve just got this feeling that something’s gone wrong.”

  “Then we’ll just have to hang on to our faith and keep praying.”

  “What’s this ‘we’ stuff?” Joe’s brow furrowed.

  “I know you pray at times even if you don’t go to church. I know you, Joe Morganson, better than you think.”

  Joe laughed, “You should. We’ve been married long enough.”

  “Not long enough. I think I’ll keep you a while longer.”

  “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work. I’ve got to figure out some way to make sure Angel’s okay. You’re not going to take my mind off my troubles by flirting with me.”

  “I guess you know me pretty well, too.” Nyssa sighed. The line was quiet for a moment, and she spoke again. “Does this mean there’s a trip to Miami in your future?”

  “No. It goes farther than that. This started out from a punk that was about to go away for some serious time. He gave us this tip. He told Angel about a man at a hotel in Miami. He was supposed to meet this man and set up a regular line of drugs for some doctor here in town. The perp wouldn’t give us the doctor’s name, but he gave us a password and a hotel room number.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Angel went in as Mason Caldwell, met with the man, and a few days later Angel headed to Tijuana. Supposedly, to close the deal”

  “Mexico? Can Angel even speak Spanish?”

  “He listened to tapes all week learning some of the basics. I don’t think they were staying in Tijuana. More than likely that’s where the crop is.”

  “Marijuana, I suppose.”

  “That’s what we’re guessing. Either this guy’s a con, or he’s very careful. He treated Angel as a guest for a few days, kept pushing off talking about the ‘business at hand,’ only hinted here and there, about what he could do. He wouldn’t even give Angel his name. He just said call me ‘the boss’
.”

  “What now? Where’s the backup?”

  “There is none, yet. Angel needs to get something first, a name, a location of the crop, something to show the DEA.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “They say they’re low on funds just like everyone else, that if we get something they’ll be there to make the arrests.”

  “And that leaves Angel hanging in the balance.”

  “Yep. I tried to talk him out of this, but he had his mind made up.”

  “How often was he supposed to check in with you?”

  “We set up a system, that he would call every two days if possible, and he was supposed to change his voicemail twice a day.”

  “I take it there’s no new message.”

  “No. He hasn’t changed it in three days.”

  “He could have just forgotten.”

  “No. Something’s up. I just don’t know what.”

  “When are you leaving for Tijuana?”

  “Soon, but first I have a few phone calls to make, and a redhead I need to talk to.”

  Chapter 5

  Carlos Santora

  “Here’s your key, sir. Room 777. Maybe this is your lucky day. For some reason, we don’t book this room often, but it’s nice and clean. The view’s great.”

  “I don’t care about the view. Do you have room service?”

  “Yes sir.” The petite blonde once again was all business.

  “Good. Send up your best steak, well done, in about an hour.”

  “Is that all, sir?”

  “No. I want a salad, and a potato. There’ll be a good tip if someone gets me a six pack to go with that.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it.”

  “You do that.” Carlos Santora smiled for the first time in hours. The girl was pretty, but too skinny for his liking. He turned and made his way to the elevator, heading to his room. Taking a shower was the first thing he wanted to do. Most of the sand was gone now, but he still felt dirty.

  The water hose he’d found in someone’s backyard had washed away most of the blood from his hands and face. He’d looked halfway presentable as he’d walked into the hospital to have a quick check up.

  His neck felt sore and he wanted to get an x-ray. He told the nurse he’d fallen off the ladder and needed to be sure nothing was broken. It’d taken most of the day, but finally he’d gotten his x-ray, and as he’d hoped, he was fine.

  They’d given him some medicine for the pain, and now all he needed was a warm shower and something to eat. He went into his room, locked the door, and began to strip. Taking out his cell, he tried to call Dani again. So far, he’d only gotten her voice mail, but this time, on the second ring, she picked up.

  “What in the world’s going on? I’m here at the hospital. They said you were in a terrible accident. Carlos, why is that man wearing your . . . ”

  “Don’t say anything else, and quit saying my name. Of course, you know it’s not me; that’s obvious. I need you to do a little acting for me.”

  “What’s going on?” Dani pleaded.

  “For now, what’s going on, is your husband’s in the hospital, and he needs you by his side. I don’t know if he’ll live or not. This could be my ticket out, a way to get clean, a way to be rid of Carlos Santora.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Can anyone hear me or what you’re saying?”

  “No. I’m alone in a waiting room.”

  “Good. The long and short of it is; I was in a plane crash with another man. He was hurt worse than me. I took his wallet and put that chain you bought me on his wrist.”

  “So I’m supposed to act like I’m . . .”

  “Watch what you say!” Carlos shook his head. “That man is now me. You’re to act as if he’s your husband. Cry, scream, whatever suits the moment, but make it believable.”

  “What if he wakes up?”

  “He took a bad blow to the head; there was a lot of blood. We’ll worry about that later.”

  “Okay, whatever you say.”

  “That’s my girl. I’ll call you now and then, but watch what you say. I’m sure the police will be snooping around.”

  “I’ll be careful, but do I need to bring you anything?”

  “No, I’ve got room service. I’m fine. Now go check on your husband.”

  *****

  Danita Santora looked around the empty room, and her brow furrowed. She closed the phone and pushed it into her purse. She’d known that marrying Carlos would mean trouble, but she’d planned on distancing herself from it. Now here she was, right in the middle of it. Her mother warned her about this; she tried to talk her out of marrying Carlos. Danita sighed. “But I love him.”

  She’d been sitting in this room for hours, crying, pacing, not sure what was going on. They’d let her peek in through the glass at her husband, and she’d turned away crying. She’d assumed the worst, and didn’t know what to think. Now that she knew what was going on, it was time these people let her in to see her husband.

  Making her way to the nurses’ station, Danita wiped away the tears, but still tried to look concerned when she looked down at the nurse.

  “I want to see my husband.”

  The nurse glanced at her clipboard and stood. “You can see him, but things look bad. I know you tried to go in earlier.” The nurse paused, walking around to Dani. “The doctor says you shouldn’t go in unless you can keep it together.”

  “I can. I’ll control my emotions.”

  “You should try. We never know what the patient can hear. Your husband has some bad contusions. Please don’t touch him, or hug him. I can see you’re a sensitive person. If you promise to stand back and just look, I’ll let you see him.”

  “I promise.”

  “Okay. Come on.” As they walked down the hall the nurse began to talk. “As I said, he looks rough; don’t be shocked by his appearance.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good. He has a large contusion, bruise; it indicated that he had a lacerated liver. It was causing some internal bleeding. They did a CT scan earlier, and it showed a blunt trauma laceration. It’s common in accidents like this.”

  “Will he be okay? Is he bleeding much?”

  “In time he’ll be back to normal. As for the bleeding, we’ll monitor his blood levels every six to twelve hours. They’ll supervise him for two or three days, looking for signs of improvement.

  “I see; will they have to operate?”

  “I doubt it, most of the time the liver starts to heal on its own.” Danita nodded, and they paused at the doorway. “What else?”

  “Two cracked ribs, hence the liver issues. He has a fractured left wrist, a nasty cut on his head, here in his hair, a black eye, and many bruises here and there. When he wakes, he’ll be in a lot of pain. He also has some swelling; he won’t look like the man you married.”

  Danita bit her bottom lip; the woman didn’t know how right she was. The nurse opened the door, and they walked in. Danita stayed back, put her hand over her mouth and tears stung her eyes. “My goodness, it’s worse than I thought.”

  “I know. Remember, don’t hug him. You can touch the back of his hand, but no hugs or kisses yet.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Danita walked over and looked down at the young man. A few tears fell down her cheek. Though she seldom went to church, she crossed herself, took out the crucifix that was always around her neck and kissed it. “Mayo el Dios la ayuda tu.”

  When she turned to go, she could see the look on the nurse’s face. “It means ‘May God help you.”

  “That’s a good prayer. He’ll be in a lot of pain when he wakes up. Visiting hours for the ICU are every two hours; ten minutes at a time. We normally don’t allow people in after 8 p.m., but now and then we do make exceptions.”

  “Thank you.” Danita wanted to go home, but she couldn’t. A real wife wouldn’t leave her husband’s side. She stepped toward the door, turned and took one more glance at the young man.

&
nbsp; He looked awful; she might call her mother later and ask her to pray. Even though she and her mother had differences at times, this young man needed all the help he could get.

  End of book two sample Tidal Wave

  I love the story of Angel and Charlie I hope you do too.

  Thanks for reading, at Fury Publications we Love and appreciate our fans.

  Street Justice Charlie's Angel book1

  Street Justice Tidal Wave book 2

  www.samanthalovern.com

  www.samanthafury.com

  New Cover coming soon

  For Tidal Wave