Steve’s Shorts: Broken Lives…
[Fate sometimes brings people together in strange ways…]
Broken Lives
Copyright 2016, Steven M. Moore
Max Phillips put his cellphone back in his pocket. Judy can be really annoying!
He knew his younger sister meant well, but the invitation to join him for a sail was for her and her husband, Mark. Now she was playing matchmaker and bringing along a female friend of hers!
He glanced around the sailboat. He’d have to clean up Wave Rider now. It was good enough for Judy and Mark, but he didn’t know how Judy’s friend would react. Is Judy setting me up with a blind date? He decided he should have said no and save himself a lot of trouble.
After returning from Afghanistan and to his divorce, he had bought Wave Rider. Weekends on the water seemed therapeutic, and his shrink encouraged them. His job had always been stressful, but at least it had waited for him when his National Guard unit went overseas. His wife hadn’t. There had been trouble before he left, though. He knew it wasn’t easy to be married to a cop.
He decided he needed to get some more food and drinks along with tidying up the boat. Sailing with a complete stranger with unknown expectations didn’t appeal to him, but he supposed that Eileen Barrows was OK if she was a friend of Judy. It would still be awkward.
Curly greeted him at the little convenience store in the strip mall not far from the docks.
“Heading out for another day on the water?”
“You’ve got it. I need to replenish the supplies a bit. I’ll need an extra lifejacket. Judy’s bringing a friend.”
“Moe will have that next door. Is the friend male or female?”
“Female.” He saw Curly’s raised eyebrows. “Yeah, she might be setting me up. She has this idea that I need a woman in my life. Been there, done that.”
“What about that partner of yours?”
“Helen? She’s happily married to a great guy. One of our MEs.”
“Didn’t know that. You went sailing alone with her the other day.”
Max frowned. “You’re looking for a scandal, aren’t you? I ride alone with her in a squad car too. I’m good friends with her husband. You’re like the media, man, looking to dredge up dirt.”
Curly raised his hands in protest. “Not me, man. Just sayin’. Some people might think it was strange.”
“Yeah, some people. Are you all out of those sea-salt potato chips?”
“I’m due for a shipment today. I’ll order more. They sell well.”
“I get them for Judy. She seems to think NaCl from sea salt is better than table salt. Buys water in bottles too. I’ve stopped arguing about it.”
“I’m not going to argue about it either. I make more money off both.”
***
Max just had time to store the supplies and clean up the boat before Judy, Mark, and Judy’s friend, Eileen Barrows came onboard.
“Mark and I will get us out of the harbor while you two organize some refreshments,” Max said.
“Hey, I thought I was going to practice my sailing skills,” said Eileen.
“Mark and I will organize the refreshments,” said Judy with a smile.
Gee, thanks. Max nodded at Eileen. “OK, sailor. Let’s get to it.”
She hauled up the anchor and Max started the tiny engine that would take them out to the bay. Once past the entrance to the harbor, they raised the sails.
“You can take the helm,” he said, taking one of the deck chairs.
She took over and seemed to enjoy the sun and stiff breeze ruffling her short reddish brown hair. Max eyed her. She didn’t have potential as a pinup or model, but she had that clean, all-American look that would turn heads in the city. And, even better, she didn’t have that come-hither look and swinging hips that characterized his ex.
OK, that’s the physical part. Do we have anything in common? “How did you meet Judy?”
“We’re both RNs. She took me under her wing when I started at the hospital. I’d been a housewife for a while, so it was good to have someone do that.”
“And your husband?”
She frowned. “Three tours. I lost him on the last one.”
Oh, shit! A military wife. Just what I need. “I was over there too. It was hell.” “For Bart too. And for the families who stay at home. I guess I was lucky. I don’t have to be a single mom. Thank goodness I had my degree before we got married. It gave me something to fall back on.”
“And your sailing skills? When did you learn those?”
“I’ve been sailing since I was three. It’s sort of in my blood. I always wanted a sailboat. This is a nice one.”
“Wave Rider’s not the fastest there is, but she does a good job. She helps me stay sane.”
She nodded and spun the large wheel.
***
Because they had planned for the entire day and the weather was good, they went farther from shore than normal before tacking, lowering enough sail, and coming to a near standstill for an early lunch.
“Avocado, bacon, and chicken,” Mark said. “Curly’s getting fancy.”
“You and Judy would get baloney and cheese, but Wave Rider has a guest sailor today,” said Max.
“In other words, Eileen, don’t get spoiled by this sumptuous feast. Max is one frugal SOB.”
“That’s Sailor on Board,” said Max with a smile. “And Eileen can show you two how it’s done. She’s got me beat.”
“Your praise will get you nowhere, captain. I’m in love with Wave Rider.”
“That boat’s coming awfully fast toward us,” said Judy, pointing starboard.
“Rich kids in daddy’s motorboat,” said Max, standing.
He could see that there were four people in the boat. He waved his arms, but the boat kept coming. At the very last moment it circled Wave Rider, sending the four of them into the drink with a prodigious wake.
He reached the surface first and saw two men jump into his sailboat.
“Throw us some lines,” he called out to the two left in the motorboat as he swam toward his three companions. When he saw them turn guns on them, he yelled “Dive!”
That wasn’t easy with a life vest on. By the time he surfaced again, the motorboat had attached to the side of the sailboat. He saw the four men transferring boxes from the motorboat to Wave Rider.
He looked around. Judy was floating in water stained with her blood. Mark was swimming toward her. Eileen was fifty feet away, swimming toward all three.
The foursome joined up.
“Shoulder wound,” Eileen diagnosed. “She’ll be OK.” She stripped off her blouse. “Help me make some strips. We have to stop the bleeding or every shark between Miami Beach and Nassau will be here in a feeding frenzy.”
Max noticed Judy’s pallor. “We need to get her to a hospital.”
“Fat chance of that,” said Mark. “They’re stealing your sailboat.”
“They’re doing more than that,” said Max. “Cover your heads.”
There was a boom! and the motorboat blew into pieces. Debris rained down on them, pieces of the outboard motor nearly hitting Max.
Fury and futility hit him now.
***
Circling with arms linked, they had moved away from the explosion site and Judy’s blood in the water, the unwounded helping the wounded.
“Did they think they killed us all?” said Eileen.
“I think they were drug runners,” said Max, “and they were focused on stealing Wave Rider and getting rid of the motorboat.”
“Meaning it was a liability. Maybe the Coast Guard had it in their sights?” Eileen looked around the circle of faces.
“Let’s hope so. And hope that they send someone to investigate.” Mark looked at Max. “What are we going to do in the meantime?”
“Eileen and I are swimming back to the debris field. There are some large floating pieces we can hold onto. Stay with Judy.”
“Bet you didn’t expect this kind of fun,” Max said to Eileen as he brought her a large piece of the motorboat’s hull for her to hold onto.
They had already picked up several other pieces.
“I’m usually taking care of disaster victims, not being one of them. Those bastards are the scum of the Earth!”
“Won’t get any argument from me. I already promised myself to live long enough to bring them to justice. Hopefully in a firefight where I can blow them away.”
“I won’t tell anyone, that’s for sure.”
“Why don’t you take these over to Judy and Mark to give him some relief? I’ll collect some more pieces and join you.”
At the end of an hour, they had a makeshift raft bound together by belts and bras. Judy sprawled on one end and the other three took turns resting on the other.
“The current will carry us farther from shore,” said Eileen.
“Let me see if the cellphone is functional. It’s supposed to be waterproof, but you never know in saltwater.” Max had left it tucked into Judy’s waistband. It was his turn beside her, so he tried 9-1-1. “No reception. And it will only get worse. And we’re going to run out of bandages.”
“I can make a poultice out of seaweed,” said Eileen. “Grab it if you see some, guys. My shift. I’ll take a look at the wound.”
Max slipped into the water. Mark and he helped Eileen up.
“If you know the direction of the shore, we can start pushing the raft toward it,” said Mark. “Maybe we could get into cellphone range.”
“We’re probably miles farther out, but let’s do it, big guy,” said Max.
They were soon so tired that all they could do was hang onto the raft.
***
Night came. The moon was new but the stars shone brightly in the inky sky. The phosphorescent tips of the waves added a bit more light.
“This would be romantic,” Judy said to Mark, who was now beside her on the raft, “if we weren’t in such a fix. What are we going to do?”
“Wait for morning, when Mark and I start pushing again,” said Max. “For now, we have to rest. One of us needs to stay awake to make sure we stay together. Also, if a cruise ship is spotted, to give a shout.”
“Lot of good a cruise ship would do,” said Eileen. “They’d never see us.”
“Mark, show her the flare gun.” He did. “There’s a chance it might work. I found it in the debris field. It won’t do any good unless someone’s close by, of course.”
“So, the watch list is among us three. I’ll go first. One of you guys rest. I’m betting you’ll both need energy for a long swim tomorrow.”
The sun was just deciding to make its appearance when Mark spotted the cruise ship. Max managed to get into a kneeling position on the unstable raft, raise the flare gun, and shoot. The projectile rose to its max altitude and the flare went off, momentarily creating its own dawn.
***
Max shook Ensign Thomas’s hand. “Good to see you again.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” said his new friend. “I hear everyone is OK, and your sister will have a speedy recovery. Feel like giving me a blow by blow account.”
Max began describing their ordeal while Thomas took notes. “I’m thinking they were running drugs and you guys had them in your sights.”
“You’re thinking right. Our cutter lost the motorboat—it’s just too fast and too small—but we sent word ahead. They had nowhere to go. Your sailboat saved their asses.”
“Not for long,” said Max with a growl. “You can look the other way when I find them.”
“Leave it alone, Max. Let us do our job.”
“I second that,” said Eileen. She was dressed in a hospital robe. All three of them were, with Judy in a hospital bed. “Let’s just count ourselves lucky. That cruise ship was delayed a bit by a squall.”
“You did a good job with Max’s sister,” said the ensign.
“Don’t change the subject,” said Max. “I expect you to keep me informed about this case.”
“Nothing doing. But can any of you remember what the traffickers looked like?”
Mark had joined the group. He shook his head. “Judy was the nearest, which is why the SOB hit her, I guess. What about you, Max? You have a marksman’s eyes.”
Max started rattling off a description that ended up sounding so generic that it was probably useless. “The common characteristic is that they were all short, about five-six or seven, I’m guessing, because I had the Wave Rider to gauge their size.”
“We’ll be lucky to find the boat,” said Thomas, “and, if we do, the traffickers will probably be long gone.”
“Where’d you detect them?” said Max.
“About a third of the way from the West End of Grand Bahama to West Palm Beach. The E-2C caught their wake and a spotter zoomed in. Our cutter was on patrol just north of that trajectory.”
“Meaning they originated somewhere in the Bahamas, I suppose.”
“They probably do that trip several times a week,” said Eileen. “You guys should stop them.”
“It’s still a big ocean,” said Thomas with a shrug. “We have the slug that was in Judy. It’s from an H&K we think. That’s unusual, and it might help.” He pointed a slim finger toward Max. “And you stay out of it, my friend.”
“Maybe,” said Max. “Right now I’m in recovery mode. After talking with Judy, I suggest the three of us go for a beer.”
“I’ll pass,” said Mark. “I’ll keep my wife company.”
“I can understand that,” said Max.
Eileen nodded.
***
“I can understand your desire for revenge,” Eileen said, drawing a sad face in the moisture from the beer mug that was on the table. “I wanted to go overseas and find the savage dogs that killed my husband.” She put her hand on Max’s. “But no one died in this case.”
“Someone could have. The bastards have no respect for human life. ‘Savage dogs’ is too nice a description.”
They lapsed into silence for a while, nursing their beers.
“Let’s change the subject,” Max finally said. “I understand you work in the ER.”
“It gets tough,” Eileen said, “especially when you’re trying to save the life of a gang member, cop killer, or wife murderer.”
“I can empathize with that. Cops are in a tough spot too, thinking twice about using deadly force. I suppose that’s a good thing—innocent until proven guilty and all that—but we’re making split-second decisions that can mean the difference between life and death. The new cameras help, of course. But it’s also hard not to have public appreciation for what we’re trying to do. Ever just want to let someone die, someone who deserves it.”
She shrugged. “Not my call. I’d probably save the life of a terrorist even though I knew he shot my husband. That’s just the way I am. I can’t let my emotions get in the way.”
“Same here. Thomas thinks I want to kill those bastards. I just want to catch them and send them away for a long time. I’d also like to put them out of business.”
“Are you narcotics, homicide, or what?”
“SVU. Recently promoted, if you can call it that. An old cop retired, so I went from uniform to detective. Some of the cases…” His voice trailed off and he took another sip of beer.
“My mother doesn’t understand me. She and Dad are peach farmers in Georgia. They live sheltered lives and can’t understand my calling.”
“I guess that’s the nice way to understand how my ex feels,” said Max with a shrug. He smiled. “She’s dating an accountant now. No military, no cop for her. I probably didn’t pay enough attention to her needs. And I get in black moods sometimes.”
“PTSD?”
“Maybe. Maybe from my work here as much as from over there. But I don’t think so. There’s nothing cheery about my life right now. Judy and Mark try to make me come back into the light. Their intentions are good, but they’re mostly annoying.”
“Like coming up with this terrible blind date?”
He laughed. “Yeah, that was a bit annoying, but it’s become more interesting even with our near-death experiences. I like you a lot. I’m just not sure if I’m ready for another relationship.”
“Then we can just stay friends. I’m sort of in the same place.” She eyed him over the rim of her mug. “I can’t imagine anyone in my bed but Bart.”
***
“We found your boat,” said Ensign Thomas over the phone. “It was adrift in one of the canals. As soon as DEA forensics is done with it, you can come get it.”
“Any idea when? I could use some respite from this damn job.”
“Did you get that case where the guy killed his wife and children?”
“Yeah. We cornered him. The bastard surrendered. ‘Course will be a waste of the court’s time. And she had a restraining order on him, damn it!”
“Not worth the paper it’s on,” said Thomas.
“Any clue about our four pirates?”
“Not yet. DNA and printing takes a while. FBI isn’t CSI. The case is basically the DEA’s now. My job is done.”
“Who’s the contact at the FBI?”
“Marlena Montes. I spoke to her about you. She’ll keep you up to date if you stay out of it. Get in the DEA’s way, and all bets are off.”
“Thanks for the warning,” said Max with a groan. “I want to see those guys in jail. Think they can get the needle for attempted murder.”
“Probably not. The federal DA will probably give them a deal. I wouldn’t mind knowing who their bosses are.”
“I’m willing to bet you already do, or the DEA knows. Catching them in the act is always the problem.”
“I have to go. You take care. Take that redhead Eileen out to dinner. That’ll take your mind off this. I heard your sister’s out of the hospital. You’re all alive, which is a minor miracle.”
“Yeah, I’ll be sure and go to mass this Sunday.”
***
“You seem distracted,” Eileen told Max. “Why’d you ask me out if you’re off in some dark place?”
“Advice from Ensign Thomas,” said Max. “Sounded good at the time. I was thinking of Afghanistan. I had to shoot a kid over there, you know. He was ready to shoot me, but still, he probably wasn’t more than twelve or thirteen.”
“What kind of people make a kid fight for them?” said Eileen.
“Human beings that don’t deserve to be called that. Fanatics. Savage animals. And that’s being nice and not using swear words in a public setting.” He took a sip of wine. “Sorry I’m such a bum date. I had good intentions. I like you a lot.”
“Maybe that’s just a reaction from what we’ve been through?”
“Afghanistan?” She shook her head. “Thinking we were going to drown?” She nodded. “I don’t think so. I liked you from the moment you took the helm of Wave Rider. You’re focused and in control.” He smiled. “And a hell lot prettier than the captain!” She blushed, reminding him of her family’s business with the two Georgia peaches on each cheek. “When I get her back, we’ll go for a sail, just you and me.” He thought a moment. “Not too far from shore this time.”
“I’d like that. It’ll be a long time before I can afford my own sailboat.”
He winked. “Maybe you won’t have to do that for a while.”
***
The phone rang. Max awoke and stared at the clock. 3:11 A.M. What the hell?
“Bret Hall, DEA here. You Max Phillips?”
“Since I was born. What’s up?”
“We’re interrogating a guy who has prints matching some on your boat. I’d like you to come in and watch, to see if you recognize him.”
“Probably not, but I’m willing to come in. Where are you?”
Hall gave him the address.
Max dressed, deep in thought. He knew this was really a tremendous favor from the Feds. Marlena Montes and Ensign Thomas had probably put in a good word for him.
After going through the protocols upon arriving at the DEA office, he was shown into the observation area for the interrogation room, where he met Hall in person. He jerked a thumb toward the one-way window. “There’s your guy, Mickey Roberts. Do you recognize him?”
“Hard to say. All four guys were similar looking. Not too tall, short-cropped hair, either very tanned or dark complexion. You shouldn’t consider me an eyewitness, though. What about the other three?”
Hall shrugged. “They’re dead. We had a bit of an old western-style shootout, I’m afraid. Cathouse in Little Havana. Mickey here said they ganged up on the owner when one of the girls stole some money. Owner had some thugs backing him up, so big mistake.” Hall smiled. “Police were called by one of the girls, and we were called in because of the reports that Mickey and friends were high on meth. Welcome to our world, Sergeant Phillips.”
“We probably know some of those girls in SVU,” Max said. “Are you going to interrogate this bozo?”
Hall nodded. “I’ve got an OK to make a deal if he gives up the big guy. Think I’ll be lucky?”
“Guess it depends on whether the big guy can get to Mickey afterwards. If Mickey even thinks he can, you won’t get anything—not even name, rank, or serial number.”
“I’ll do my best,” said Hall.
***
Mickey did well up to a point, not going for the offered deal. But Hall wasn’t through.
“You know, you’re in big trouble. We have your prints from a nice little sailboat called Wave Rider. There’s drug residue all over the boat. Guess you and your buddies were sampling some of the merchandise.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mickey said. “I’ve never been on a sailboat.”
“The forensics don’t lie. So we have you for trafficking as well. In addition, the owner of that boat is behind that window there and he’s identified you. That’s attempted murder, because you tried to kill him and his friends. Still not interested in my deal?”
Mickey shrugged. “I want a lawyer now. Then we’ll talk about a deal.”
Hall shoved a phone toward the trafficker. “Make your call. I’ll go take a pee.”
“That was a bit of a stretch,” said Max when Hall rejoined him.
“He doesn’t know that. Besides, you did sort of identify him. Not too tall, short-cropped hair, either very tanned or dark complexion. Works for me.”
“Guess that’s why you guys make the big bucks. What happens next?”
“I’m betting the lawyer will advise Mickey to accept the deal, and we’ll get the boss he knows. Unfortunately, there are probably others. The battle never ends.”
“Well, three out of four ain’t bad,” said Max.
***
“You’re looking good,” he said with a smile. “I was going to call you when I got my boat back. It’ll be any day now. I suppose Judy filled you in on recent events.”
Eileen had called Max and invited him to beers and burgers.
“She did. You’re looking terrible. Are you still stressed out over our little adventure?”
“That’s an understatement. Like I told the DEA guy, three out of four is good, but I’d sure like them to nab the boss. Let’s go back to you looking good. You haven’t got another man in your life now, have you?”
“Except for some interns who think nurses who have lost their husbands are fresh prey, no.” She smiled. “I guess I’m being forward by calling you.”
“I’ll take forward, ma’am. I’m just a shy cop who’s probably better at sailing.”
“Would you like me to go beyond forward?” She reached across the table and touched his cheek. “I like you a lot, Max Phillips. Right now I can’t say much more than that.”
“Maybe talking’s overrated. Your place or mine?”
She blushed. “Talk about being forward. My mother warned me about men like you.”
He shrugged. “I like you a lot too. Humans do certain things together when they like each other a lot. Case closed.”
“That’s a bit primitive. Where are the flowers and candy?”
“We’re too old for that. Of course, technically I’m still married.”
“Catholic?”
“Once upon a time. Once my ex marries her accountant, all bets are off, I guess.”
“That’s good. I’ll take a raincheck on the flowers and candy and invite you for coffee at my apartment. There I have some stronger stuff than beer we can add to the coffee. But I have some information for you. One of the three perps died under my watch in the ICU after surgery.” Max’s eyebrows raised. “I knew you’d be interested, and I’ll probably regret telling you this. Ricardo Ruiz is their boss.”
“You asked him?”
“And he answered. I might have pretended I was an angel.”
“You are an angel. Did you tell the DEA?”
“Your friend Hall. I’m not sure they’ll act on it, though, which is why I’m telling you.”
“Why wouldn’t they act on it?”
“Because they don’t have enough to go after him.”
He nodded. “They have to make a case. I don’t.”
“You do too. You’re a cop.”
He nodded again. “I have my case. Ricardo Ruiz is the man responsible for nearly killing us.”
“Don’t do anything rash.”
“I never do.”
***
Max had heard about Ricardo Ruiz. He was a player in southern Florida nightlife. His SVU suspected him of human trafficking and child pornography videos. Bunco had their eyes on him for illegal gambling in his night clubs. Max wasn’t surprised that Ruiz was involved in drug trafficking.
He was waiting for the man in the alley behind one of those nightclubs. Around 3 a.m. Ricardo came out, two young ladies with silicone implants on each arm, three bodyguards, and a driver. He knew they all had enough to drink to slow their reactions. Piece of cake!
He stepped out of the shadows, just a homeless drunk stumbling his way back to his cardboard abode. The three bodyguards were still outside the limo. He took them out with tasers, opened the rear door, and tossed one of the girls out. Sliding into her place, he covered Ruiz.
He gave the address of an old warehouse to the driver. “Take us there or your boss dies, then you,” he told the astonished thug. His gun was pointing at Ruiz’s temple.
It was a short trip, but long enough for a conversation.
“You’re a dead man,” said Ruiz. Max noted the nervous tick. “Even if you kill me, you’re a dead man. And what’s your beef?”
“Mickey and his three friends,” said Max. “Threatening me and my friends. Pirating our sailboat. Leaving us for dead. Any of that ring a bell?”
“No. I don’t know anyone named Mickey.” But the man was perspiring now, and it was cool in the car.
“One of Mickey’s friends gave you up as he lay dying in the ICU. We’ll consider that a confession. You’re Catholic, right?” The barrel of the gun now pointed at the gold cross on a chain around the man’s neck. “Maybe you want to make a confession too before I kill you?”
“You’re crazy. I have nothing to do with what you described.”
“Just the GM of the ball club, right? When the team loses big, the GM gets fired. I figure no one will find your rotting body in the warehouse for days. Just the beginning of your trip into Hell, of course.”
“Look. What do you want? I can give you a hundred grand for your troubles.”
“That’s probably chicken feed compared to what you rake in from all your enterprises,” said Max. “No, Señor Ruiz, I want to kill you. Driver, stop at the next corner. Get out, honey.” He waved his gun at the second girl. “You don’t want to see this.”
Max felt bad leaving the girl in a seedy neighborhood that early in the morning, but he didn’t want any witnesses.
***
One nugget Max had panned from his conversation with Hall was the location of a warehouse owned by Ruiz that they suspected was used more than for his import-export business. Checking with his narc cop buddies, they concurred. A few raids had only shown legit merchandise. He considered he was ahead in the race between him and the DEA now. One man can work more efficiently.
If there was illegal merchandise in the warehouse, all the better, but Max didn’t care. By exacting his revenge in Ruiz’s domain, it would add insult to injury. He knew all denizens of the underworld were narcissistic bastards once they tasted power.
He waved Ruiz and the driver into the warehouse. He had the driver put zip ties on Ruiz’s hands and feet, and then Max did the same for the driver.
“Seems like you’re going to a lot of trouble if you just wanted to kill me.”
Max shrugged. “It’s your warehouse. It’s an appropriate mausoleum, don’t you think?” He pulled out a third crate and sat on it, facing the two. “Shall we flip a coin to see who goes first?”
“I’m just his driver,” said the other man with a scowl. “I’ve got family.”
“What kind of respect will they have for you when they discover you’re an accomplice of this hijo de puta.” Like Ruiz, Max had figured out that the driver was Hispanic. Unlike certain politicians, in Florida or otherwise, he had nothing against Hispanics, but he thought it was nice to try to speak their language. “’Papa fue un bastardo’ will be your kids’ show-and-tell tomorrow in school.” He turned to Ruiz. “It’s not hot in here, Ruiz. Why are you sweating?”
“Eres un loco,” Ruiz said.
“Crazy enough to plan my revenge. You bet.” He approached Ruiz and put the barrel of his gun on the bridge of the nose. “Don’t worry. It will be fast. How many people have you killed, by the way?”
“None of your business.” Ruiz was cross-eyed now, looking at the barrel.
“In a way, that’s correct. They’re your past and hopefully there is a Hell where you’ll pay for their deaths. Me, I live in the present.” He started to walk away, and then spun and fired.
Outside the warehouse, Max used his burn phone to call 9-1-1 and report gunshots at the warehouse. “You might want to inform Agent Hall at the local DEA office.” He hung up, tossed the phone to the concrete, and smashed it with his foot.
***
“We’ve got all kinds of illegal goodies,” said Hall’s forensics expert.
The DEA agent smiled. He knew who the mysterious informant was, not that he would try to prove it. Way to go, Max. But why didn’t you kill the bastard?
Ruiz was having trouble breathing on the EMTs’ gurney. Hall also knew the wound so close to the heart was in exactly in the same place Max’s sister’s wound had been. Street justice. I still would have killed the jerk.
“Keep cuffs on him even in the hospital,” he told his people standing beside the gurney. “We’ll be bringing multiple charges against him, I’m sure.”
“What about the driver?”
“Get him into a johnny and out of those soiled pants before he stinks up the whole place.”
***
“Was it OK?” Max rolled off Eileen. “I’m a bit out of practice.”
“It’s a good start,” she said, showing her Georgia-peach cheeks. “I tried to call you last night. I wanted to come over.”
“I had a case I was working on. Besides, my place is a mess. Yours is nicer. Can I move in?”
“There you are, being forward again. Let’s not rush this.”
“I’ll take it slower the next time,” he said with a laugh.
***
Like free content? Check out the list of PDFs free for the asking on the “Free Stuff & Contests” webpage. This list includes a free novella not available anywhere else and my little course on fiction writing. Query me via the contact page at this website and ask for the titles you would like to read.
In libris libertas!
