by Matt Lincoln
Jake’s pickup roared into view, settling in front of them with all the grace of a bull. As relieved as she was to see it, she knew she wouldn’t be able to breathe properly until they were on the highway.
Robbie threw his right hand out to block her and keep her in place as he stepped forward and checked their surroundings. She was reminded of the times her father would be driving and needed to stop suddenly. He would slam on the brakes with only one hand on the wheel, the other one flinging out to the side to hold her back, nevermind that she was properly wearing her seatbelt. Her safety trumped his own in his eyes, and now Robbie was doing the same. It was comforting, even if the feeling was fleeting.
Robbie took her bag and chucked everything in the backseat while she hoisted herself up into the passenger seat. He walked around to the driver’s side and immediately got the truck moving, ambling down the alley and out into traffic.
She watched the buildings pass by, watched the late-night party-goers laughing and walking unsteadily, watched the stars overhead. When they finally merged onto the highway and got up to speed, she couldn’t do it anymore. That switch that she had flipped, the effort she had made to shove her emotions down deep, all came unraveled, and she burst into tears.
“Damn,” Robbie muttered from behind the wheel. “Alright, it’s okay… take a deep breath. We’re okay. We’re safe now.”
“You don’t know that!” she snapped through gritted teeth. She was struggling to take even breaths. The tears wracked her body, making it damn impossible. “Besides,” she choked, “my brother isn’t.”
Robbie didn’t answer, but the engine growled a bit higher as the truck accelerated a bit more. She realized that she hadn’t said anything that required an answer. She also realized that she had just snapped at the one person who was keeping her safe.
“I’m sorry,” she sputtered, finally feeling like she might be able to catch her breath soon. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
Robbie chuckled humorlessly, his eyes darting toward her for a moment before returning to the road.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he insisted, the warmth finally inching back into his voice. Now that the immediate danger was gone, it seemed that he was returning to the Robbie she was coming to know and appreciate. “You’re being asked to handle the impossible. I have no idea how you’ve been keeping it together for as long as you have.”
She closed her eyes and silently willed her body to stop trembling. “I don’t know either,” she replied softly, staring out the passenger window. “I think it was mostly out of necessity. We would have gotten out of there a lot slower if you had to carry my blubbering ass out of there.”
She peeked over at him and saw a genuine smile tug at the corners of his lips. Just seeing that helped to calm her down a bit.
“Well,” he replied gently, “I appreciate the thought, but hopefully you’ll be able to catch your breath now. I’m hoping to be back tomorrow night with Marston if all goes well.”
Ethan. The note had completely derailed her thoughts.
“Do you think he’ll be alright?” she asked, her voice a bit more steady now.
“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” he replied offhandedly. “He’s seen a hell of a lot worse.”
Alejandra nodded, feeling a bit more settled. She thought back to the moments before the shooting started. The time she spent dancing with Ethan was peaceful, and for just a few moments, she had forgotten that her life was teetering on the edge of chaos. She had wanted to kiss him. Her entire body had yearned for it. When they had been interrupted, she didn’t think much of it. There was always the opportunity to come back to it later. Of course, that was before the shooting, and the note, and the threat to her brother’s life. She sat back and rested her head against the headrest. She closed her eyes and finally took the deep breath she needed. She felt her exhaustion weigh heavily on her and finally gave in to a fitful sleep.
A gentle hand on her shoulder snapped her awake, and for a brief moment, she was calm until reality slammed into the forefront of her mind. She was still in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck, but the engine was silent, and she was staring at a blank white concrete wall.
“We’re here,” Robbie whispered. So they were.
Alejandra nodded as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and hopped down out of the cab. Robbie collected her bag from the backseat and headed toward the front door, and she followed closely behind. As she did, she looked around, and her eyes settled on the solid wall surrounding this place. She was at Jake Header’s house, and it was arguably the safest place she could be in, short of the National Palace.
Jake opened the door, all muscles and thick dark hair. She quickly recapped everything she knew about Jake so far and realized that maybe this place was even safer than the National Palace, after all.
“Wow,” she breathed as she stepped into the living room. The entire place smelled strongly of something delicious. She took a moment to dissect the ingredients as the aroma filled her nostrils. “Is that bacon? And… peppers?”
“Both,” Jake replied coolly, coming up behind her. Rosa turned around and flashed Alejandra a warm smile.
Are you okay? Rosa signed, concern etched in the furrow between her brows.
Alejandra simply shook her head. No, she wasn’t okay and wasn’t sure that she would be anywhere near okay for a long time. She had the distinct feeling that Rosa knew that, though.
Rosa nodded her understanding and grabbed an open wine bottle off of the countertop. She grabbed the nearest glass and poured the wine out before handing the glass over to Alejandra.
Alejandra sighed and accepted the glass gratefully. “Thank you,” she replied with a grin. “I think I needed this.”
You look like you need it, Rosa replied with a lighthearted smile. Alejandra chuckled as she took a sip. Whatever kind of wine this was, it was delicious. It had a hint of spice at the end and rich flavor that allowed her to get lost in it for a moment. She sat down on one of the bar stools that were tucked along the kitchen island.
“Where are the other people that were here?” she asked as she watched Rosa cook.
“Xavier and Doc?” Jake came up beside her and smiled warmly down at her. “Doc just bought his house recently, and Xavier is over there helping him unpack.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” she replied, grateful for the bit of extra breathing room in the mostly empty house.
“Rosa insisted on crashing on the couch tonight, which leaves you the guest bedroom.” Jake took a sip of whatever amber liquid was in his rocks glass.
“No.” Alejandra balked at the offer. “I couldn’t do that.”
It’s already done, Rosa signed, turning away from the stove to face Alejandra. I don’t want to hear anything more about it.
She knew enough to know that Rosa wasn’t kidding, so she didn’t argue the topic further.
“Thank you,” she managed to mutter gratefully. She took another sip of her wine as Rosa flashed her a satisfied grin and turned back to the stovetop.
“Hey.” Robbie came up beside her and rested his hand gently on her shoulder. She looked up at him and saw the kindness in his eyes. “I’m going to meet up with Bonnie for those sample kits and head back.”
“What about getting some rest?” she asked, taken aback by his sudden change of heart.
“I’m wired right now,” he shrugged. “I’ll rest once I’m at the hospital with Marston.”
“Please let me know how he’s faring,” she replied. He nodded in agreement.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he assured her, and with that, he was gone. She turned back to Rosa, who had turned back to the conversation.
“This has been the most exhausting night I think I’ve ever had,” she muttered over her glass.
Rosa chuckled. I can make up a plate for you to warm up later. Go get some rest.
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all night,” she sighed. Upending the glass, she took one last gulp of
wine and stumbled into the guest bedroom where she dove headfirst onto the bed and was out in seconds.
Chapter 19: Ethan
Although the hospital staff wasn’t happy about it, I had insisted on being released once they had patched me up to the best of their abilities. When Holm had shown up in the early hours of the morning with the sample kits in hand and a story about a threatening note on our hotel room door, I knew we couldn’t waste time waiting for me to get out of the hospital.
“Did those discharge papers that you just threw out say anything important?” Holm asked as we headed toward the elevator.
“Yeah,” I muttered, jamming my thumb against the call button. “It said that I should go home and rest with my feet up.” I shot Holm a sideways look and found a bemused smile on his face.
“I see why you wanted to throw them out,” he replied, shaking his head. He followed me onto the elevator, and we headed down to street level. The Coast Guard base wasn’t too far from where we were, and I hoped that it would be a quick visit. I was itching to interview the man who sent a bullet ripping past my side last night.
The sun was cooking the earth when we stepped outside, and I immediately began to sweat. I was grateful for the icy air conditioning of Header’s truck, even if the climb up into the cab tugged at the gash in my side a bit. As Holm navigated his way through the city, I sank back and closed my eyes against the glaring sun. No one ever really rested properly in a hospital, and I was drained.
The Coast Guard base was tucked down a side street where most people had no business driving. I doubted many people knew where to find it if they hadn’t searched it out in advance. We pulled up to the gate and flashed our IDs to the guard, who must have been expecting us, because he waved us right on, and after a couple of turns, the road opened up to reveal a wide-open parking lot with several piers attached to it. Water surrounded the lot on three sides, and a couple of piers housed sleek white ships with orange and blue stripes emblazoned across the forward part of the hull. Behind them, cruise ships lurked in the background, and the clear blue water lapped up against the hulls.
Holm found a spot near the ships, and we began walking down the row, trying to figure out where we were supposed to go.
“Hello, boys!” A loud, charismatic voice rang out from overhead, and we both looked up to see Debra Slade beaming down at us. “You made it!”
“We did!” I called up to her. “Where are we headed?”
“Come on board,” she replied cheerfully, gesturing up the pier to where the brow was resting in the shadow of the ship, connecting it to the pier.
I followed Holm up the pier, and we crossed the brow together, the metal of the railing cool beneath my palms despite the sun cooking our skin. As we crossed the slightly unstable surface, we heard a shuffling from just out of view, and then Debra’s smiling face came from around the corner.
“How are you feeling?” she asked gently, her dark eyes locking onto mine. “I heard you got a firsthand experience with Puerto Rico’s healthcare system.”
“Well, it wasn’t as pleasant as the Miami hospital,” I groaned, “but they stitched me up just fine.”
“Yeah, Marston has a lot of firsthand experience with the Miami hospitals.” Holm jabbed me in my good side good naturedly. “We also have a medic up there that tends to his wounds. This hospital was probably a hell of a lot kinder to him than she is, though. I think she’s getting tired of his crap.”
“Getting tired?” I clarified lightheartedly. “She’s been tired of me for a while now.”
“I couldn’t imagine why!” Holm teased. Debra stood back with a huge grin on her face as she listened to our banter. The truth was, I had maybe not listened to the good advice of our medic on multiple occasions. She had every right to be tired of my crap, and I couldn’t blame her.
“So, where’s the cocaine we’re being sent over here for?” I asked Debra, trying to steer the conversation back on track.
“It’s back here,” she replied, jerking her head toward the aft end of the boat.
We followed her over to where there were several bales of cocaine stacked under a makeshift awning. The large blue tarp rippled in the breeze but did an adequate enough job of keeping the sun off of the contraband.
“Here you go,” she announced cheerfully, gesturing to the stack. “Three square groupers for you. Have fun doing whatever it is you have to do.”
“Square groupers?” I chuckled as I stepped forward under the cover of the tarp. The image of these square-shaped bales floating in the water before the Coast Guard ‘fished’ them out came to mind.
“Yep!” Debra winked playfully at me before she turned to head back. “Linda and I are up on the bridge. Jones made donuts. Come on up when you’re done, I’ll put some to the side for you.”
“You know,” I reflected as I handed Holm the sample kits so that he could get started, “I don’t remember our cooks being this amazing in the SEALs.”
“Definitely not,” Holm agreed as he got to work. “Jones is a great person to have on board.”
“You’re not kidding,” Debra called out cheerfully. “We are very lucky! The cutter next to us…” Her eyes darted side to side before she dropped her voice conspiratorially. “Their cooks suck. I feel so bad.”
With that, she headed up the ladderwell, leaving Holm and me to collect the samples.
“I’ll take care of this,” Holm offered, brushing me off when I came over to help. “Go sit down or something. Let your body rest.”
I couldn’t argue with that, so I wandered over to the railing and looked out over the bay. A couple of cruise ships took up a nice portion of the view, the white paint and multiple rows of windows reflecting the morning sun back into my eyes. Further out into the bay, some light boat traffic kept the surface of the water rippling in the wakes, and the salty scent of the sea breeze overwhelmed my senses. In the stillness of the moment, with only the ambient sounds of the waves and the working Coasties around the corner, I was glad to have the opportunity to get away from the hustle and bustle of Miami for a bit. This may be a stressful and currently painful case, but the view was breathtaking. I vowed to myself that I would take some time to explore before heading home.
“Alright,” Holm announced, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Let’s go grab us some donuts and head over to the police station to have a chat with our rifle-wielding friend.” I glanced over to see him sealing up the samples and wandering toward the ladderwell.
“That was quick,” I called out as I followed him up.
“What can I say, donuts motivate me!” He stepped up to the railing and waited for me to join him. I heard a whoosh of air and turned to see Debra’s face in the open doorway, a donut in her hand and a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Come on in, you two!” She stepped back and gestured over to the side, where a tray of warm donuts sat with melting powdered sugar sprinkled over the top. Linda Reyes and her Chief, Sanchez, were sitting by the helm, each with their own donuts as they talked. The sugary aroma filled the bridge, and I was immediately starving. Looking back at the past twenty-four hours, I suddenly couldn’t recall when I had eaten last.
“Yes, this is the perfect way to kick off the morning!” Holm declared, setting the sample kits down and grabbing the nearest donut with a napkin off of the nearby stack. He took a large bite off his donut, leaving small smears of melted powdered sugar at the corners of his lips.
“Sugar and caffeine are what fuels us every day,” Debra said matter-of-factly. “Speaking of, I have a pot of coffee brewing downstairs! Would you like some?”
Holm shrugged and nodded, but I was feeling much more enthusiastic about it. “After spending the night in the hospital, I may need more than coffee,” I quipped.
“I’ll take care of you,” she assured me.
“Yeah,” Linda giggled from up in her seat. “You may want to reserve your request for a second cup until after you drink the first one. Slade makes some strong coffee.”
Debra beamed proudly before taking off down the ladderwell.
“We’ve had her coffee before,” I recalled, swiping a donut of my own before walking up to the helm to join her and Sanchez. “It did the job.”
“Must not have been the good coffee. You’d remember that distinctly.” Sanchez chuckled and ripped off a piece of his donut with his teeth, licking the excess powder off the corners of his lips. “Boss, tell them.”
Linda smirked over her own cup, holding it up briefly for display. “She makes it for me every morning,” she sang cheerfully. “It’s in her secret stash.”
“So, we got the non-special coffee last time?” Holm clarified, looking amused by this newfound information.
Linda nodded knowingly. “Yup. She saves the good stuff for when we really need it.”
“Unless you’re the Captain,” Sanchez interjected, jamming his thumb playfully in Linda’s direction. “Then you get the good stuff every morning.”
Linda shrugged good-naturedly. “What can I say? Perks of the job.”
The clanging on the ladderwell announced Debra’s return, and she resurfaced with two oversized mugs of steaming hot coffee.
“Here you go, boys,” she announced, handing each of us a mug. I quickly wiped my hands clean with my napkin before taking it from her. I was immediately struck by the potent scent wafting from the surface.
“Oh, this smells dangerous,” Holm muttered.
I glanced over at him. “Our buddy down at the police station is going to have a bad day, I think.”
