Chapter 58
My heart sank when the shooter had whispered Catalina’s name in my ear. I can’t say it came as a surprise, but I could no longer deny the truth.
The next day was agonizing, waiting for the warrant, then the phone records.
An indescribable dread filled me. Sometimes it’s hard to reconcile the person you think you know with their actions.
Hard to slap the cuffs on their wrists and send them away for life, especially when you know they had the potential to be so much more.
Catalina had called, but I didn’t pick up. I didn’t listen to her voicemail.
By the afternoon, we had everything we needed.
With the tac team assembled, we headed to Palm Haven. It felt strange doing a raid without JD. He still hadn’t been discharged from the hospital.
Catalina’s courtyard gate was locked.
I scaled the wall, climbed over, and hovered by the front door. I peered in through the glass, looking for activity.
Erickson and Faulkner had taken the driveway up and moved to secure the patio.
We all wore wireless in-ears.
Mendoza hammered at the gate with a battering ram.
CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!
The whole world could hear.
The locking mechanism finally gave way, and the hinges squealed as the gate flung wide.
Mendoza, Robinson, and the sheriff flooded in.
I banged on the door and shouted, “Coconut County! We have a warrant.”
Glass shattered as Mendoza hammered the door. Shards rained down and danced like diamonds. The jamb splintered, and the door flung wide.
We flooded into the foyer and crunched over broken glass.
Marco was at the top of the stairs with a Mac 10.
I shouldered my rifle and took aim. “Drop the weapon!”
With a slew of twitchy barrels aimed at him, he dropped the weapon and complied.
Mendoza and Robinson advanced up the staircase and cuffed him.
Erickson’s voice crackled in my ear. “We’ve got the suspect in custody.”
“Copy that,” I said.
Daniels and I moved through the foyer and cleared the living room and kitchen, then stepped onto the patio.
Catalina had been lounging on a float in the pool, soaking up the sun without a care in the world. Now in cuffs, she sat on a lounge chair, dripping wet, the taut fabric of her bikini clinging on for dear life. “Can anyone explain to me what’s going on?”
“You’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder,” I said.
“I guess I should ask to speak with my attorney,” she said in a casual voice.
“I guess you should.”
“Would it be possible to change into something more appropriate for the occasion? I feel like I’m underdressed.”
“The county will provide you with suitable attire.”
Erickson and Faulkner escorted her through the house and stuffed her into the back of a patrol car as curious neighbors gawked and gossiped.
We cleared the house, detained and questioned Marco and Deke, and searched the property.
We confiscated computers, laptops, tablets, and phones.
I was sure we would come up with something definitive to tie her to the assassination attempt.
But if she had ditched the burner she used to text the assassin, it might be hard to make the case stick. She could afford the best attorneys.
At the station, Catalina was processed and printed. I filled out after-action reports, then chatted with the sheriff. It felt like a hollow victory.
“That shooter is going to live,” Daniels said when we spoke in his office.
He’d talked to Dr. Parker. “His name is Miguel Gomez. I’ve got a deputy standing watch outside his room.
I don’t trust these people, and that guy probably knows enough to bring this whole organization down.
Get over there and see what you can get out of him.
Record everything. And be careful. You just put Diego Navarro’s daughter in jail.
If you think he’s going to take this lying down, you’re mistaken. ”
“I anticipate a response. If he comes to the States, we’ll arrest him,” I said with confidence.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m good.”
“Don’t be surprised if she walks. Money buys influence in this town. Evidence and witnesses go missing all the time.”
I frowned.
“Keep fighting the good fight.”
“Always.”
I left the station, hopped on my bike, and rode to the hospital. JD had finally gotten discharged and was waiting for someone to wheel him out of the building. It was a mandatory policy to reduce liability and avoid falls. I’m sure Jack was still dosed up on pain meds.
The blondes, Ginger and Cinnamon, were still with him. Jack looked happy as a clam. I filled him in on everything. He looked disappointed that he missed the action, but not that disappointed.
A porter wheeled him out of the hospital, and I helped him into a black SUV rideshare. The girls rode with him back to the Avventura, and I set out to find Miguel Gomez.
I moved through the hallways of the trauma ward. Nurses scampered about, and doctors made rounds. I spotted Deputy Lassiter outside the perp’s door, sitting in a chair, looking like he was about to nod off.
“How’s it going?” I said as I approached.
He snapped alert. “Want to trade places?”
I chuckled. “How’s the patient?”
He shrugged. “See for yourself.”
I stepped into the room. Shafts of light filtered through the blinds. The TV was tuned to a talk show, the volume low.
Miguel didn’t look so good. His eyes were wide and panicked. He struggled to breathe. The monitor beside the bed blipped with the jagged peaks of his heartbeat. His vitals crashed as he tried to suck in a breath.
I hit the call button for the nurse as he flatlined.
A response team flooded into the room a moment later, but there was nothing they could do.
Miguel was gone.
The case against Catalina had evaporated.
I grilled Lassiter. “Who was the last person in this room?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. A nurse. She checked on him a few minutes ago.”
I couldn’t prove it yet, but the cartel had silenced him. I was sure of it. Even behind bars, Catalina was still calling the shots.
I called the sheriff and gave him the bad news. “I want a full autopsy done, looking for anything that could have caused sudden respiratory failure.”
The sheriff groaned. “This is just beginning, isn’t it?”