Chapter Five
MIGUEL
I was quiet on the way home, scrolling through my phone as Raven drove. Vonne had called back asking for a forwarding address for Sutter and I’d laughed, telling him that when someone went into witness protection, the U.S. Marshals Service didn’t exactly give out addresses. When he’d asked if I could get a message to him, I’d replied that, of course, I’d do that. It made me really happy that the men had reconnected once again. After all the years my two buddies had been out of contact, it was nice knowing that at least they were going to try to make an effort to keep in touch.
When Raven said he wanted to stop at Trader Joes to pick up the raw almonds he liked to munch on in bed after sex, I simply smiled. I told him I’d wait in the truck, anticipating the night to come since he’d already told me how it was going to go. It had been a very long day and frankly, I was tired. I had no other thoughts but that I wanted to check out the new Nightcrawler review he’d put up last night and relax with my man for the night. The rest of the world be damned. After he went into the store, I scrolled to the Bestreads site and smiled as I began reading his latest offering.
Book title: A Farewell to My Arms
Author: Donald Blakeley
Publisher: Self-published
Genre: Autobiographical Fiction
Review/rating by Nightcrawler: 3 stars
Synopsis:
A bright-eyed, young journalist is suddenly thrust into the horrors of war after volunteering to cover it for a local newspaper.
My review:
First, if anyone can tell Nightcrawler what a fictional autobiography is, I’d sure as hell love to know. Unless, of course, the book was written by a famous political figure. In that case, I’d venture to guess…you could fill a library with books.
Blakeley’s particular offering was a bit of a surprise to me, but I kept turning the pages even when things got bloody. The author kept it interesting. You’ll see why in a minute. As the title and synopsis suggest, this is the story of a naive, young man who enlists in WWI to cover the frontlines. I am breaking my own rule here, by giving you a description of the story at length, only because I think it’s important in writing this review. So…spoiler warning here. If you’d just like to go and buy the book based on my generous three-star rating, stop reading here, otherwise…
Spoiler
When I opened this book, I was expecting a boring recounting of battle scenes, but my surprise came when instead of being caught up in frantic reporting, our hero instead finds comfort in a young nurse, diving into a passionate love affair. She soon convinces the young journalist to abandon his writing and start driving an ambulance to pick up the wounded.
Faced with true horrors of war for the first time, he insists on collecting body parts, carelessly tossing arms and legs into his vehicle along with dying men. Unfortunately, his decision to “rescue” the remains of men, results in an attack of extreme anxiety as he drives back to the hospital. The panicked young soldier finds it impossible to ignore the pile of limbs resting in the back of the ambulance with living soldiers, so he abruptly stops the vehicle, throws open the door, and hurls the limbs willy-nilly to the side of the road. It comes as no surprise that this act caused great shock and revulsion from the very vocal, dying men.
Now, it may seem to you that the young soldier was following a noble calling, one which begs the question of morality. Nightcrawler asks you readers to ponder that question for a moment…and try to set aside your squeamishness when you learn that the soldier, once realizing that the wounded men have witnessed his actions, kills them all. He then hastily focuses on fleeing the scene of his horrific crime.
The karmic universe must have had other plans for the young soldier, however. Just as he’s intending to drive away, the ambulance is hit by a rocket, blowing off the young journalist’s own arms. He slowly bleeds to death, pondering his poor choices, unable to drive away into the sunset, never to see his beloved nurse again.
Nightcrawler gives a generous three-stars to this novel even though I don’t like unhappy endings. There were parts of the book which were poignant. The love affair between soldier and nurse was heartwarming, and the blood and gore expected. The fact that this “fictional autobiography” has been written by a soldier who’s become an anti-hero at its conclusion with the death of…well, himself…makes this book more properly listed as a mystery.
All in all, I’m giving it a perhaps overgenerous three-star rating.
I chuckled and looked up just in time to see Raven walking out of the store. He was smiling, carrying one of the reusable shopping bags we always kept in the car, when I saw a man step out of the shadows, his arm down by his side. I immediately went on high alert, tossing my iPad onto the driver’s seat, and throwing open my door.
Three things happened at once. The man, who was now following Raven, pointed a gun at my beloved’s back. Raven spotted me just as I whipped my Glock out of my holster and pointed it in my partner’s direction. His expression instantly turned to one of alarm, and I shouted at the top of my lungs. “Get down!”
For once, my gorgeous man didn’t hesitate and did exactly as I’d asked. He dropped to his knees just as a shot rang out. The bullet whizzed harmlessly over his head, following a trajectory which would have killed my man instantly had it made contact.
Innocent bystanders in the parking lot began screaming, scattering out of the line of fire. The attacker leveled his gun again, pointing at Raven’s back. I fired, missing the center of the man’s chest by several inches, only because I was running. Instead, my bullet hit him in the shoulder, jerking his arm to the side just as he fired again. The shot went wide but I charged at him. I sprinted across the asphalt toward him as he staggered, caught sight of me, and took off running, stumbling several times.
“Miguel!” Raven shouted, rising from his knees, the shopping bag forgotten as I ran toward him. “What was—”
I didn’t wait for him to finish, shouting as I charged by him.
“I’m going after him! Call the police!”
“What? I—”
I didn’t stop to listen as I caught the man disappearing around the corner of the grocery store as he ran from me. Sheer blood rage filled my body. Someone had tried to kill my lover, and all I wanted to do was catch him. He had a good twenty-five-yard head start, but he was wounded. As I rounded the corner of the building thirty seconds later, I spotted a smear of blood on the white, painted brick. In the back of my mind, I knew turning a blind corner like that was nothing short of stupid. Had my Marine Corps Special Forces training been at the front of my brain as I made the decision, I would have taken more precautions.
The second I turned the corner, the brick beside me exploded, hitting me in the face, and momentarily blinding me. I stopped, wiping at my face, trying to clear my vision when another bullet whizzed by my head. I ducked and retreated behind the bricks, dropping to my ass as I evaluated my injuries, thankful as hell when I realized I could see out of both eyes after all. I was waiting for more shots when Raven came charging up to me, instantly dropping into a squat as I heard the squeal of tires on the other side of the wall. I instinctively knew the gunman had jumped into a vehicle and was getting away.
“Miguel! Jesus! You’re hurt.” Both hands instantly went to my face as he bent to survey the damage.
“I’m fine, Raven. Let me up,” I shouted, wiggling to get off my ass, to continue after the guy.
He dropped his hands on both of my shoulders, pushing down with more force than I expected. “Sit there and don’t move, Miguel! Police are on the way.”
I peered up at him, noticing for the first time, that the lid of my right eye must have begun swelling, partially impairing my vision. My eyesight was restricted to a slit but I felt absolutely no pain. Adrenaline is a funny thing. The minute it kicks in, the human body feels bulletproof, enabling the fight or flight response in the brain. But the second it’s gone, it’s replaced by extreme exhaustion, as the body tells you to just stop, the danger is gone, it’s okay to relax.
“He’s getting away,” I said miserably, reaching up to touch my eye.
Raven grabbed my hand, glowering at me. “Don’t touch. It’s injured.” He glanced up and I followed his line of sight, spotting the bloody smear and twelve inches above that, the missing chunk of brick. Part of the wall had been blown outward from the bullet which had nearly taken out my right eye.
As the minutes ticked by, I slumped with my back against the wall, all the air going out of me like a deflating balloon.
“Fuck!” I said, hearing several approaching sirens at once.
Raven faced me, his expression devastated, filled with pain and terror. “Baby, you could have been shot. What were you thinking?”
“I didn’t think, Raven.” I shook my head. “The second you stepped out of that store, he detached himself from the wall behind you and I knew he had a gun. Thank God I’d been watching for you. If I hadn’t seen you—” My throat closed up as tears were suddenly there, blurring my already impaired vision.
Raven instantly plunked down beside me, pulling me into his arms, right before two uniformed officers ran over. They both had their guns drawn, pointed in our direction as they skidded to a stop, twenty feet away.
“Toss the weapons!” one of them shouted.
Only then did I realize my gun was in my lap, in easy reach if I wanted to shoot them. Raven was also wearing his sidearm. I nodded, slowly reaching down to take hold of the gunstock with my finger and thumb, moving it from my lap to the ground beside me. I pushed it several feet out of reach as Raven did the same. We both put up our hands, backs to the bricks.
“We’ve got a concealed carry license,” I said quietly. “We were shot at. The assailant got away.” I pointed above me to the painted wall, not daring to break eye contact with them. They were the first to look away, glancing up before bringing their stare back down to me. “That’s his blood,” I said. “He tried to shoot my partner in the back. I was sitting in the car when I spotted him, coming up behind him. I returned fire, hitting him in the right shoulder as best I can tell.” I nodded at Raven. “That’s my partner, in case you were wondering.” Blood dripped into my eye, and I blinked it away. It was nearly swollen shut. “I think I need an ambulance.”
One of the officers looked at Raven. “A bus is on the way.” He eyed me up again. “You on the job?”
“We’re not police officers,” Raven clarified. “We’re licensed recovery agents and the guns we carry are legal.”
“Bounty hunters?” one of the officers asked, keeping us in his gunsights.
“Yes,” I replied. “And I have no other weapons. Please holster your guns. You’re giving me the shakes.”
Two other officers ran over, guns drawn, trained in our direction and retrieved our weapons. I sighed, slowly turning to Raven, where I met his eyes. “There go my plans for a nice, quiet evening in front of the television with my favorite guy.”
He tilted his head and gifted me with the ghost of a smile.
RAVEN
Two hours later, I was fuming.
Miguel had been treated by paramedics at the scene before both of us were loaded into the back of separate squad cars and driven to the Hollywood division. We’d been locked into separate rooms which the cops had called interview rooms, but the many layers of peeling paint on the drab gray walls, the large window of two-way glass facing me, and the locked door, told me differently. They’d removed my handcuffs when they’d locked me in the box, allowing me to pace without their constriction. When I’d finally flopped down on one of two metal chairs in the room, I was mentally and physically exhausted, but most of all, pissed off.
Miguel saved my life today. The second I’d seen him jump from the truck, gun in hand—and even before I’d heard his shout—I’d known my life was in danger. When he’d ordered me to drop, I’d done it, no questions asked. Feeling a bullet whizz over my head, I’d realized someone had come up from behind me. I hadn’t even seen the man as I’d emerged from the store, eager to get home to Dolly’s vegetable lasagna, and my man. Somewhere in Trader Joe’s parking lot, my almonds and the garlic bread I’d bought to accompany the meal, were probably still there.
Although Miguel had discharged a gun and allegedly hit someone, I was still pissed that the officers hadn’t taken us at our word and instead put us in handcuffs after showing them our concealed carry licenses which we always kept in our wallets. I was even more pissed that they hadn’t immediately called Cassidy and Mike, knowing they would have been here in minutes, if they’d gotten word. I knew they had procedures to follow but feeling like we’d been treated as suspects when we’d been victims made me see red.
When the door finally opened and Cassidy appeared in the doorway, I instantly felt déjà vu, reminding me of how he’d come to our rescue over the incident with Ned, all those months ago. I jumped up and ran over to him, throwing my arms around him, and hugging him tight. He felt so solid and strong as he hugged me hard. I let go and stepped back as he smiled at me, Kelly green eyes twinkling.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here, Raven.”
I walked out behind him and immediately saw Miguel talking to Mike right outside the room. His right eye was covered with a gauze pad, taped up. It took great restraint on my part not to rush to his side and pull him into my arms. He obviously didn’t feel the same way, closing the short distance between us and wrapping his arms around me. I buried my face in his shoulder, feeling tears close to the surface as I hugged the life out of him.
Knowing he’d been hurt and not able to be with him, had been the worst thing of all. I’d begged to be allowed to sit in the same room with him, but the officers at the scene had said it was impossible until we’d been cleared. It made sense but I’d been an emotional wreck, and I know they must have seen it. They’d left me in a lonely room, praying that the paramedic had been right, and Miguel wasn’t going to lose his eye.
“Raven,” Miguel cooed quietly, patting my back. “It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. He’d nearly taken a bullet for me. When his hold finally loosened, I sighed, stepping back, but kept hold of his shoulders with both hands as I stared at his beautiful face. The skin under the eyepatch was red. Scabs had begun to form on the myriad of small cuts which the shards of brick had left in their wake. They covered his stubbled right cheek, nose, and half of his forehead. Blood stained his T-shirt.
“Come on and sit in the squad room, guys,” Mike said. “We have some questions.”
I turned to Mike and nodded, allowing Cassidy to rest his hand on the small of my back as he guided me to the bullpen.
“Can we get some water, Cass?” I asked.
“Sure. I’ll be right back,” he said.
I watched his retreating form until I felt Miguel’s hand on my knee. He’d rolled toward me in a desk chair. I reached for his hand, curling my fingers around it. The small squeeze to my fingers made me feel just a little more grounded and thankful to be alive. I held on to him, clutching the hand I loved so much as I watched Cassidy come back with two sweating bottles of water. I thanked him and took mine, cracking the top, and drinking it down, relishing the cold even though it burned all the way down. I glanced at the clock and gasped. It was after eight.
“We need to call Dolly!” I said, looking at Miguel.
“I called her about an hour ago, Raven,” Mike said, easing himself down into a chair. “I didn’t tell her what happened, only that you two were at the police station and would be here a little while longer. She said she had no problem staying.”
“An hour ago? But, I thought you just got here.”
“We did,” Mike replied. “I called Dolly as soon as I learned you were in lock up.”
“We came as soon as we were called, Raven, I promise,” Cassidy added, dropping down into a chair across from us. Cass looked around, frowning before glancing back at us. “For what it’s worth, I gave the two patrolmen hell about how you two were treated, but the captain at this station is new to the division so Mike and I have no goodwill with him yet. For all he knows, we’re just a couple of Brentwood detectives with no standing. I think he’ll find out differently, when my captain makes a call.”
“Don’t get anyone in trouble, Cass,” Miguel said, sighing and running a hand through his hair, like he did when he was nervous, or his walls were down. I frowned and squeezed his hand tighter when he glanced over at me.
“Anyway, what’s happening?” Mike said, sounding tired.
I’d almost forgotten that our friends were working nights. I felt guilty that we’d brought more bullshit to them, cutting into what had to be their family time. One of these days, they were going to get sick of us and the trouble a call from one of us always brought with it.
Miguel and I launched into our explanation of everything that had happened that day, starting with leaving our breakfast with them that morning. We told them about going back to the office and getting the two messages, one from Tomlinson and one from Brian Leopard and how Tomlinson promised to share information with us then reneged on his promise. When we described Leopard and his boyfriend, Trevor, both detectives laughed. The information about Mr. Leopard’s missing diamond pin which he’d bought at an auction set up by Rosina Cassanova, sobered both men instantly.
“So, you think the missing diamond pin was part of this cache of jewels those rogue CIA fuckers are looking for?” Cassidy asked.
“It has to be. She invited him to the auction, and from the looks of the gold it’s set in, I’m guessing it was fashioned in the Middle East,” Miguel said. “I’ve seen jewelry from that region and the gold is very similar.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen it too,” Cassidy said, “so I know what you mean.”
I always forgot Cassidy was a former Navy SEAL and had probably been on a ton of Special Forces missions in the area.
“So, this Leopard guy,” Mike asked, “do you think he’s legit? I ask because I find it curious that he would just seek your company out…just out of the blue like that.”
I covered my face with both hands, rubbing over it before looking up. I was exhausted.
“I completely forgot to mention that Tawny Flores told Leopard about us,” Miguel said. “I guess he told her that we’d been hired to find her missing ruby, so she thought we could help him too. She knows him through her dead husband, Benedict who was his partner in the casino business.” He sounded as exhausted as I did.
“Actually, he was the one who financed it,” I added. “Leopard made his millions on Wall Street when he became a hedge fund manager decades ago. Apparently, he and Flores grew up together, members of the same Native American tribe. Sorry, I didn’t ask which one.”
“That’s okay,” Cassidy said, taking notes. He looked up after he’d finished writing. “I’m going to tape the incident that happened this evening. It’ll serve as a statement for the captain here in Hollywood.” He pulled a small tape recorder out of his inside jacket pocket. We nodded as he turned it on and said, “This statement is being taken by Detectives Cassidy Ryan and Mike Williams out of Brentwood,” he reeled off the date and time. He nodded to us. “Start with your names and address.”
So, we began. Miguel explained how he’d been sitting in the truck waiting for me to come out and the ensuing events.
He voiced the fear he’d felt as soon as he saw my smiling face, and the gunman behind me. I sat there listening to the incident from his point of view and felt my heart clench in pain as he described the terror that had rushed through him at the thought of me taking a bullet to the back of my head. I dropped my chin, looking at our clasped hands as I felt the tears welling up, not wanting our friends to see them. Cassidy shut off the recorder.
“Raven?”
When I looked up, Miguel was staring at me. He squeezed my hand again. “It’s okay, Sunshine. We’re both fine. Don’t fret so.”
I nodded, sniffling as I dragged my gaze away from him and back to Cassidy and Mike. “Are we through? I gotta get him home. He was shot.”
“It was a ricochet of exploding bricks, Raven,” Miguel said quietly. “I wasn’t shot.”
“You very well could have been killed if that asshole had better aim,” Mike growled.
“Go on. We’ll call you in the morning to fill in any blanks after we read over our notes and listen to this again,” Cassidy said. He stood abruptly, and we followed suit.
We hugged our friends goodbye. All I wanted was a bath, and I was going to make Miguel get in with me so I could simply wash off this awful day.