Chapter Seven
MIGUEL
Nana took the news that she’d be staying with Dolly for a while with grace. I’d never seen a woman so confident in Raven…in whatever he did or whatever situation he found himself in. She understood that Raven hadn’t made the decision to have her leave her home—the one she was familiar with—lightly. She knew some bad people had come into her beloved grandson’s life. And that the decision to move her in with Dolly wasn’t only about keeping her safe, but perhaps more about making sure Raven wouldn’t have to worry about her. He needed to focus on finding the person or persons who’d tried to kill us, and she got that. I loved her complete and utter trust in him, and so did Raven.
We packed up her things and followed Dolly’s car all the way to Compton, helping her into Dolly’s house while she ran ahead of us to let her husband know she and Raven’s grandmother were here. She’d called ahead, so he was expecting us.
When we walked inside the 120 year old Craftsman style bungalow with hardwood floors and braided throw rugs, Eddie Turner immediately came over with a big, welcoming smile, and shook our hands. He was a huge man, not tall but round. He most likely topped the scales at 280 or more. When Dolly’d said something about how she liked men with meat on their bones, the offhand comment suddenly made complete sense.
“Hi there. You must be Miguel and Raven,” he said in a pleasant, rumbling voice. “I’m Eddie. Welcome to our home.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Eddie,” Raven said, smiling widely as he took his hand. “I can’t tell you what it means to me that you’re opening your home to my nana.”
He laughed. “We’re happy to have her. Now that Dana works nights, we rarely have visitors other than the grandkids, of course. They all live here with us.”
I knew that. Dolly’s only daughter, Dana, was a single mother of two who worked at Good Samaritan Hospital as a registered nurse. Eddie, who was a retired bus driver for the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, was responsible for dropping the kids off at school in the mornings, picking them up in the afternoons, and handling homework until Dolly and Dana got home. Dolly had been right. Their home was beautiful, big, and filled—from what I could tell at first glance—of love.
“And you must be Angelica,” he said, bending over to place a gentle paw on the frail woman’s shoulder. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”
Raven’s nana looked up at him through sightless eyes and smiled, taking his big mitt in both of hers when he offered it. “Thank you, Eddie. Dolly has told me so many good things about you.”
Eddie laughed, taking her hand and wrapping it in the crook of his elbow. “You know I’ll want to hear all about what she’s said. My Dolly exaggerates so.”
Nana smiled, walking with him easily as he led her to a chair with deep cushions close to a welcoming fireplace. The room was cozy, and very clean, just as Dolly said. Hardwood floors often had dust balls on every surface, but you could eat off the wide planks of the very old wood. They were probably original to the house, just like the crown molding in the same rich, warm wood.
I adored these old Craftsman style homes, but they were few and far between in our neck of the woods. From the raised foundation with wide steps in front of the house, to the tapered wood columns that held up the covered porch, and the inside details like the hand painted mosaic tiles adorning the fireplaces, these homes were a dream come true. I couldn’t imagine living in Compton, though. The crime and murder rate had decreased over the years due to the crackdown on violent gangs like the Crips and Bloods who’d once terrorized neighborhoods like this one on L.A.’s south side, but it still wasn’t a neighborhood I wanted to live in. The warm and welcoming home Dolly offered was very nice, though, we both wanted Nana home with us as soon as we caught Filmore and whoever else he may have helping him.
I glanced over at Raven, noting that he’d turned to look at me. The shared glance between us conveyed the same message. We needed to get going. We needed to get this recovery over and done with.
“Can I offer anyone some coffee? Breakfast?” Eddie asked, leaving Nana’s side and walking across the room. His bulk rolled fluidly side to side just a little as he walked.
“Oh, no, thank you,” Raven said. “We need to get going.” He pivoted to me, gesturing with his hand. “We have to go to urgent care to have Miguel’s eye seen to.”
I flushed in embarrassment but reached up, removing the sunglasses I was still wearing to show Eddie my eye. I waved at it. “Work related, I assure you,” I said shyly, wanting to smack Raven on the arm.
Eddie walked closer with a little frown on his face. “Oh, what happened?”
“Long story,” I said lamely. “I got hit in the face with an exploding brick. Dolly will tell you all about it.”
Eddie’s frown turned into a warm smile as he glanced over at Dolly who stood by Nana’s chair, holding a glass of water and a tiny, plastic cup of pills for Nana’s morning medications. He looked back at us. “No doubt. I’m sure she’ll embellish the story. My girl loves to do that.”
I grinned, feeling the tightness in my cheek.
“Well, then, it really was nice to meet you,” he went on. “I promise we’ll take very good care of her.”
Raven reached out a hand and shook his again. He walked away to say goodbye to Angelica as I also shook Eddie’s hand. “We really can’t thank you enough for this.”
“It’s our pleasure.”
We were back in my old Ford F-150 five minutes later, headed out of Dolly and Eddie’s immediate neighborhood. When Raven made a right into a strip mall parking lot, I was confused until I saw the dark brown building with bistro tables and chairs in front of it. The brightly lit, red neon sign shaped like a coffee cup with steam rising above it, made me smile.
We’d filled our travel mugs with Starbucks that Dolly must have grabbed before we left the house, but those had been emptied long ago. I guess the mushroom coffee didn’t work for her either. I also knew we could probably get a muffin inside since we hadn’t eaten. We had a long day ahead of us, so I just gave in, not saying a word as Raven parked my old truck in a spot right in front of the coffee shop. I glanced around the strip mall which also housed a tobacco and smoke shop, a dog groomer, and a liquor store.
We got out of the truck, making sure we locked it. We were wearing our Glocks in shoulder holsters under our jackets. We’d both decided not to leave the firearms in the glovebox when we left the truck unoccupied. In this neighborhood, car thieves were bold enough to steal a car in broad daylight, and leaving the weapons in the truck would have been stupid. I sure as hell didn’t want to spend half my day in a south L.A. police station while some glowering, pissed off cop filled out paperwork for stolen firearms, and then waste more time trying to get a rental car.
As we walked past the bistro tables out front, I noticed how inviting the place was with red and orange flowers in huge terracotta pots flanking the entrance. The aromas coming from inside the coffee shop had me salivating as soon as I stepped inside. While we stood behind two other couples in line, I gazed longingly at the old-fashioned bakery case with iced cakes and muffins, trying to decide what I could get away with. Raven loved to tell me that he wanted me around for the rest of his life, which apparently meant I wasn’t allowed to have sugar. The place smelled heavenly. If he told me I was limited to a bran muffin, I’d already decided to ignore that order. Besides, the iced lemon cake looked mouthwatering.
We stepped up to the bearded, black man behind the cash register and gave our orders. When he smiled at Raven and began flirting, I straightened to my full height. The need to look as imposing as I could when Raven was being hit on didn’t strike me as overkill. It was almost reflexive. My partner was a beautiful man who got looks wherever we went. I chalked it up to being something I had to deal with. He never flirted back but the very idea that someone felt free enough to smile and flirt at someone who was clearly mine, made me crazy every time.
“Miguel?” Raven snapped his fingers in front of my face, and I came out of my thoughts a split second later. I glanced over at him, spotting the smile playing around his full lips. “Are you going to order?”
“Oh, sorry.” I shot the server a look and noticed him watching my mouth with great interest. “Gimme a large regular blend, uh …whatever bold you have, okay?”
“Yes, sir. That would be our American Warrior blend,” the man purred.
I was annoyed. “And throw in an iced lemon cake.” I glanced over at Raven who was watching me with an amused smirk. I knew he was biding his time and would give me shit about the cake as soon as we left the place. That was just his way. Raven would never embarrass me by objecting to the cake in front of the flirty barista, and for that, I was grateful. We stepped back to wait for our coffees and my cake so that another guy behind us could order. One of the two couples who’d gotten their coffees before us had taken up residence at one of the small, wrought iron bistro tables outside.
I turned back to Raven who’d moved over to the wall to examine a sturdy travel mug. He turned it over to check the price tag and then quickly put it back on the shelf. The barista called Raven’s name, and we took the tall paper cups he passed over the bakery case along with a small paper bag.
“Half and half and creamer are in the carafes by the door,” he said, flapping a hand in that direction. “Have a nice day.” I thought the wink he gave Raven was over the top.
“Yeah, have a nice day,” I grumbled.
I handed Raven his cup and he walked over to the small hostess stand. I walked to the door, looking out at the parking lot and the street beyond.
It took me a second to register what was happening when the female half of the couple at the bistro tables started screaming. Her chair crashed to the ground as she stood and turned to run at the same time her male companion fell face forward into his pumpkin bread a second later. She took off running through the parking lot, ducking as more bullets chased her.
I dropped my coffee cup as I pulled my gun and raced out the door, taking cover behind a car, scanning the surrounds, holding my Glock with both hands, trying to find the shooter. I couldn’t see anyone until an engine started with a roar, then spotted an SUV with chrome spinner rims and limousine tinted windows. It shot out from its parking space, reversing at speed, then raced by me, burning rubber out of the parking lot, and around the corner before I could even get the sights of my gun trained on it for a good shot.
I did, however, get the license plate, committing it to memory as two more black SUVs roared into the parking lot. They screeched to a halt in front of me before all four doors popped open and people scrambled out, holding weapons, wearing earpieces, and screaming at me.
“On the ground! Get on the ground!”
They rushed me as I complied, dropping to my knees right there on the asphalt, holding my gun to the side, doing exactly as I’d been commanded. Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for them because a second later, one of the black suited guys rushed up behind me and kicked me face first to the asphalt before stomping on my back. I felt the breath whoosh out of me in a rush and I turned my head, scraping my already bruised cheek against the hard surface to gasp for air, and met the toe of a boot coming at my head.
I woke up with a splitting headache. The pounding in my noggin wasn’t helped by the yelling of someone standing very close.
“Did he comply?”
“I-I, yes. He complied,” another voice replied.
“Did he drop to the ground like he was told?”
“Yes,” the flat voice said.
“Why then, did one of you shitheads think it was okay to kick him in the head…you stupid, reckless fucks!”
“Calm down, Cass,” Mike Williams said.
“Calm down?” my friend growled. “These Feds think it’s fine to kick someone when they’re down, Mike. Someone’s getting written up for this bullshit. You know it’s not right and when the special agent in charge gets here, he’s gonna know about it!”
My friend was really pissed but he and Mike were here—wherever this was—and I was safe. I blew out a relieved breath as I tried to lift my eyelids, tried to shift in the bed, but realized my body hurt all over. My head was a whole other story since a very loud mariachi band had taken up residence inside my skull. I tried to sit up but realized I couldn’t move. Someone had a tight hold on my hand. I slowly rolled my head on the pillow as I finally managed to open my eyes.
Raven was seated on a chair on my right, holding my hand, looking…ravaged. An IV was taped to the inside of my arm, and I could see that the railing on the bed had been lowered. A rhythmic beeping sound was coming from a machine I hadn’t yet spotted, and my surroundings finally sank in. I’d been hospitalized several times, but that had been because I was a Marine, not because some asshat kicked me in the head. My head throbbed. If Raven hadn’t been staring at me with haunted eyes, chewing his bottom lip, I’d no doubt go back to sleep.
“Get out of this room.” Cassidy’s growling voice was coming from my left.
“Yes, you need to leave now. I can hear you down the hallway. This is an ICU, you’re disturbing other critical patients,” an authoritative voice said.
“We need to talk to Mr. Huerta. He was an eyewitness to Rufus Modelo’s murder, and we need to confirm the identity of the shooter,” the FBI agent said.
“I don’t care. This is unacceptable. This patient is unconscious. I’m calling security now,” she said.
“He’s awake,” Raven said, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Thank God,” said Cass.
I angled my head on the pillow so I could see Cassidy but when I tried to turn my head to look back at my partner, my stomach rolled.
“Oh shit,” I managed to mutter and a second later, I felt the bed being raised. Panic began to set in just as the nurse shoved a pink kidney dish under my chin. And to top off my lovely morning, I proceeded to puke up a rather large portion of whatever fluid was in my stomach. At that moment, I was relieved that I hadn’t had a chance to take a bite of that delectable, iced lemon cake. I shut my eyes but suddenly something cool and damp was covering my forehead. When I finished throwing up, the wet washcloth was pressed to my mouth. The relief was instantaneous.
The nurse started checking my vitals as the war still raged on around me, and I answered her questions about how I was feeling.
“He’s not going to give you anything,” Mike said. “He’s got a fucking concussion.”
I did? I shook my head which turned out to be a mistake as the pounding returned. The kidney dish was moved and then replaced by a larger, rectangular basin. The washcloth on my forehead was the only thing that felt good.
“If you have to throw up again, use the basin, sweetheart,” Raven said, leaning down to speak close to my ear. All I could do was nod as he slipped his hand back in mine.
“I’ve got a license plate,” I croaked, barely able to understand myself.
“License plate?” the guy—the FBI guy—asked. “Won’t matter. The assassin probably already dumped the car.”
Assassin?
I felt a hand on my left shoulder and glanced over to that side of the bed. Cassidy and Mike stood there, a cross between compassion and worry in both their expressions.
“What’s the number, Miguel?” Mike asked, his ever-present tiny notebook in hand. He scribbled down the number as I recited it from memory, though, the effort hurt like a bitch.
“There were spinner rims on the vehicle. Mercedes Benz SUV, black, limo tinted windows,” I said. “Really high-end car. I’d put money on the guy not dumping it,” I said directly to the FBI guy standing beside Cassidy. The man was a short, mousy looking, older guy with a bald head. He wore a twisted, corded earpiece and as soon as I gave the description, he stepped away from the bed.
Cassidy took my free hand and smiled. For the first time, I noticed one of those clip-on oxygen monitors on the middle finger, only because Cassidy’s long fingers closed over it.
“How you doing, buddy?”
“Head hurts really bad.” I felt Raven let go of my hand and then he was around the bed standing beside Cassidy and Mike. He looked terrible, with dark circles under his eyes and unbrushed hair, nothing like he’d looked when I’d seen him last, standing at the hostess stand inside the coffee shop.
“You’ve been unconscious since they brought you in here,” Raven croaked out.
I watched as his eyes got shiny. “Where am I?”
“Cedars.”
“Cedars?” I was confused and the mariachis had returned. “Need fucking meds.”
“I’ll get those for you shortly,” said the nurse.
“Just going to the bathroom,” said Raven, squeezing my hand. “I won’t be long.”
“Okay.” I looked at Cassidy and Mike. “What happened?”
“You witnessed the murder of an FBI protected witness, Miguel,” Cassidy said, dropping my hand. He sounded disgusted. “How much do you remember?”
I narrowed my eyes because the bright lights in the room hurt. Mike walked away from the bed and a second later, the overhead lights shut off leaving the one over my bed the only illumination in the room. Moments later, he was back at his partner’s side.
“Thanks, Mike.” My whole face felt like it was on fire. I looked back at Cass. “Raven looks like shit. How long have I been here?”
“The shooting was yesterday morning.” My friend hovered over my bed, scowling. “You have a concussion.”
Yeah, someone had said that. I couldn’t remember who. “Concussion,” I repeated.
Cassidy nodded and then Raven was back, standing at his side again. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Head hurts.” I reached up to touch the wet cloth on my forehead. Underneath it, I could feel an enormous lump. “Christ.”
Cassidy frowned deeply. “What do you remember, Miguel? Anything other than the license plate. Did you get a good look at the shooter? It’s important.”
I tried to get comfortable, squirming as I tried to sit up a little more. I’d never learned how to get comfortable in a hospital bed. As the back started going up, it took me a second to realize that Cassidy was pushing a button on the bed.
“Better?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“What do you remember?” Cassidy was either really worried about me or trying to find out if I knew anything other than the license plate and vehicle description.
“ Uh , I was standing in the coffee shop when a girl screamed. She started running away. The guy with her started to get up but he was shot in the back of the head before he could. He fell face down into his food.” Cassidy nodded. “There were more gunshots…maybe the shooter was trying to get the girl. I had my gun out when I ran outside and then heard a car start up. When I spotted it, he drove away. Is the girl okay?”
Cassidy shook his head. “She was shot in the back as she fled her boyfriend’s side…died before the ambulance got there.”
“Who were they?” None of this was making sense to me.
“Protected witnesses,” said Mike.
“I know. But who were they? Protected from who?”
“Rufus Modelo, sicario in the Sanchez Cartel out of Guadalajara,” Cassidy said. “The FBI is being cagey but from what we’ve been able to put together, they think she was his girlfriend. It appears that she went to one of his friends to turn him into the cartel to save herself after he made contact. Mike and I think they decided to take her out along with Modelo to tie up loose ends. The poor girl wasn’t expecting to be shot in the back for her trouble.”
Mike continued the story, the way he always did when his partner stopped to take a breath. Good partners could do that and normally, I could follow the two best friends. Right now, though, my head was splitting, and it was taking a great effort.
“The FBI had him in witness protection in one of their safehouses, all set to testify against Rafael Sanchez, until he escaped through a bathroom window when he was supposed to be taking a shower three days ago. He was invisible for almost three days, hiding from the cartel, until he made himself visible by making the call to Gina.”
“And Rafael Sanchez is who now?”
“Half-brother to Oscar Castillo, the current head of the Sanchez Cartel,” Cassidy replied.
“Gina was Modelo’s girlfriend?” I asked.
“Yes, Gina Cardoza,” Cassidy said as Mike nodded. “Did you get a good look at the shooter?”
I slowly shook my head. “No. I was inside the coffee shop when he shot the guy. I ran out to try to get a look at him, but he was gone. A car started up which drew my attention and the next thing I knew, the shooter was tearing out of the parking lot and I was memorizing the license plate. He’d barely gone when the FBI showed up. You know the rest.”
“Okay,” a different female voice said from the vicinity of the door. With the wall of men between me and the entrance, I couldn’t see her but there was no mistaking the authority in her accented voice either. “Mr. Huerta needs to take these pills.” A small black-haired nurse appeared around the foot of the bed, holding a small plastic cup. She smiled brightly when she saw me. “My patient needs his rest.” She hefted the pills and shook the plastic cup in Cassidy’s face. I wanted to laugh at his expression. “And he needs these pills.”
She conferred with her colleague and noted down the quantity and time of them.
“The FBI needs to leave, this patient won’t be questioned any more today.”
The FBI man opened his mouth but she held up her hand. “No. You can leave now.” He sighed, looked like he wanted to say something else, but then marched out of the room.
“I’m already breaking the rules by letting you two stay as long as you have,” she said addressing Cassidy and Mike. She turned and glanced at Raven, offering him a smile as she softened her voice. “You can stay, dear…as long as you let him rest.”
“Thank you,” Raven said, backing up along with my two detective friends, to let her get close to me.
“Hi there. I’m Sanji. It’s nice to see you with your eyes open. What a beautiful color.” She patted my hand. “How are you feeling, Mr. Huerta?”
“Like complete crap,” I said. “And really tired. I’ve got a splitting headache.”
“Yes, this will help with the pain.” She held out the cup so I could see the two pills in it. “This is Tylenol which is all I can give you with a head injury. Sorry if you were expecting something stronger.” She took hold of my wrist, turning it so she could read my name on the plastic wristband.
At the moment all I really wanted was a horse tranquilizer, but I doubted I could talk the small, brown woman into that. She looked formidable but it was the way my partner and my two intimidating friends backed up at her orders, that confirmed who was in charge here.
“Can you tell me your full name?”
“Miguel Huerta.”
“And what day is it?” She reached for a pink pitcher, pouring water into a cup.
I furrowed my brows, regretting that immediately as it only made my head hurt worse. “Tuesday, I guess.”
“That’s right. You’ve been asleep since you were brought in by ambulance yesterday morning but that’s to be expected with a goose egg on your forehead. It’s quite a spectacular bump, if I do say so myself.” She smiled brightly. “Can you hold the cup by yourself, Mr. Huerta?”
Of course, I could. But when I reached for the cup with my right hand, the IV line pulled. I reached for it with my left and noticed how my hand shook.
“That’s okay, I’ll help,” she said kindly. She held the cup for me as I took the pills and got several swallows of water down. It was cold from the ice in the pitcher and felt completely amazing on my parched throat. She smiled contentedly and then looked back over her shoulder. “Everyone but Mr. Mathis…out of the room!” She made a shooing motion.
“We’ll be back, Miguel,” Cassidy said.
“Glad to see you’re awake,” Mike added before leaving with Cassidy at his side.
“Do you need anything?” my nurse asked.
“Just some sleep.”
“Okay. I’ll be right outside. Try to get some rest until they come to move you.”
“Move me?”
Raven took my hand as she walked toward the door. I heard it swish open and then shut, noticing for the first time, that it was a sliding glass door, not the regular kind. “You’re in intensive care, Miguel. They’ll be moving you to the med-surge floor as soon as they have a room ready.”
“ICU?” Someone said that before, didn’t they?
Raven nodded, pointing to my forehead. “Head injury, Miguel.”
I wanted to groan. “Fuck. How long do I have to stay here?” I really hated hospitals, even nice ones like Cedars-Sinai.
“Baby, you’ve been out for almost thirty-six hours. That FBI guy could have killed you when he kicked you in the head. You’d better believe he’s in big fucking trouble if Cassidy and Mike have their way.” He squeezed my hand and once again, I noted how utterly wrecked he looked.
“Sunshine. You haven’t slept,” I said.
He shook his head. “When you’re out of danger and safe in your own room, I’ll sleep on the chair. I’m told all the rooms have comfortable, reclining chairs that fold out into beds.”
“How long do I have to stay here?”
He sighed. “They’ve ordered a CAT scan to make sure your brain isn’t bleeding, but you’ll be able to go home tomorrow if you’re cleared.” He made himself busy by straightening the blankets on my bed. I knew he was worried. He wasn’t hard to read as he kept on talking. “The doctors here are nice. I even made sure the ophthalmologist on call took a look at your eye. It turns out, you were right. There aren’t any brick fragments or splinters in those beautiful eyes. Thank God you have a thick skull.”
I smiled. “I’ll remember that for the next time an FBI agent decides to kick me in the head.”
“That man should have been arrested. I saw the whole thing and made a complaint to the agent’s boss. They did a little racial profiling, though, they’ll never admit it.”
“The FBI mistook me for one of the cartel goons.” That made sense.
“Yeah, apparently, you running out of the store, gun in hand, gave them the excuse they needed to kick you in the head. That guy is in a lot of trouble, though.”
“How do you know?”
“I called the big guns,” Raven said.
I had to think. “Lincoln and Mac?”
He nodded. “And apparently, they went to bat for you the minute I told them what happened.”
I smiled, knowing that our friends in the FBI would have done just that. My eyelids felt heavy, but I forced them to remain open as I looked at Raven. He must have been so scared. I reached up and cupped his stubbled cheek. He hadn’t shaved either. “Sunshine, I gotta sleep.”
I heard him sigh. “Go to sleep, Miguel. I’m gonna step out for a minute. I gotta get a salad or something. Lincoln and Mac have two agents posted outside the door. They trust these guys and they have orders not to let any other agents bother you. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
I knew he probably hadn’t eaten a thing. If he’d been the one lying in a hospital bed, I wouldn’t leave him unprotected either. “I love you, Raven.” I closed my eyes.
“I love you too, baby.”
The pressure from his lips was there one second and gone the next. I fell asleep, tasting Raven on my lips.