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Tito knew his way around the grove in the dark. He parked his late model truck down by the tractor shed and stayed in the shadows as he made his way to the packing plant. The truck was hidden from anyone up at the house.
He still had a couple of friends who worked the Hollister grove, and he’d found out about tomorrow being the last day for the workers. He needed money fast. After what had happened to Richie, he wanted to run as far away as possible from what was going down around here.
He knew there would be pay packets left out on the old man's desk. He figured there might be a couple of thousand there, counting the bonuses and everything being paid out.
Stealing through the darkness, he came to the back of the plant. Stacking some wooden orange crates up to a back window, he climbed up and peered in. A light glowed from the office. "Old man can't even remember to turn out the lights," he muttered to himself.
Easing the window open, trying not to let it squeak, he squeezed his body in. As soon as his feet hit the floor, the old boards creaked. He stood still as a statue expecting someone to challenge him. His nerves had him sweating. He rubbed the sting of it out of his eyes with his shirt.
One foot in front of the other, cringing as the old boards creaked, he crept across the packing house floor towards the office. He was supposed to be alone, but somehow, he knew he wasn't. The hair on the back of his neck was tingling.
Rex came out of the office. His nails clattering on the wooden floor, tail wagging, he went to greet the visitor. Tito was not a favorite of the old dog, but Rex took any scratch behind the ears he could get.
"Yeah, yeah," Tito whispered giving the dog a mindless scratch behind his ears while keeping his eyes on the office door. The dog flopped onto his
back hoping for a belly rub. He was disappointed when Tito moved away and stood beside the office door, out of sight.
"Rex," Gramps called to the dog. "I guess you're telling me it's time to go home. I'm so stiff from sitting I can hardly move.” Gramps stood, moving his shoulders to get the stiffness out. "Come on, old thing, we can finish up in the morning. I'll have to show Nora how to do this paperwork I guess."
Gramps walked out of the office and looked at Rex sitting in the middle of the room. The dog had his head cocked to the side as if trying to figure something out. "What's got into you?" he asked—right before he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and the world went black.
"Why did you have to be here tonight, old man?" Tito asked the unconscious man on the floor. The dog looked up at Tito and back to Gramps on the floor. He seemed to be asking “What did you do that for?”
"Sorry dog, but I got big trouble on my ass." He stepped over the man on the floor and made a beeline for the packets on the desk. He stuffed them quickly in his jeans and inside his shirt as fast as he could. Ruffling through the desk drawers in case there was anything of value, he noticed Gramps had left his pocket watch by the lamp. "I need this more than you do right now. It might be worth a few bucks."
Making his escape through the side door, he drove with his headlights off until he reached the main road. Any other state but Florida was looking pretty good right now. He had to get away from that psycho Santos and whatever he was mixed up in. Tito wanted no part of it, no matter how good the money was. The man scared the shit out of him.
Nora looked up from her book. Her grandfather was taking a long time down at the packing house. It was a nice evening, so she decided to walk down to the plant and surprise him. Dislodging Hobo from her lap, she went to the kitchen and filling a thermos with iced tea, took her hat off the peg and headed out.
It was a bright night with the full moon shining high in the sky. She loved seeing so many stars and tried to pick out a constellation or two while walking. You didn't see so many stars in towns and cities. The cicadas were buzzing in the trees. Bats from a roost in the old barn were out hunting for their supper.
Even before she saw the side door standing wide open, she knew something was wrong. Seeing the door open was strange because Gramps hated letting the mosquitoes in. Climbing the steps, she called out, "Gramps, it’s Nora. You know you left the door open. Don't come complaining to me about mosquito bites. Rex came wagging his tail, his tongue hanging out. "Need some water in your bowl, boy?" she asked the old dog. She walked across the plant floor, head down rubbing the dog's soft ears.
"Gramps, Rex needs some water. What have you been doing in here?" Looking up, she stopped, seeing her grandfather slumped on the floor outside his office. She ran over and heard the old man moan. Helping him sit up, she saw the bloody gash on the side of his head.
"What happened? Did you fall? I'm calling Doc Winters." Nora stood and went to the phone on the desk.
"Someone hit me." She heard Gramps say weakly.
"What?" She couldn't believe what she heard.
She knelt beside him. "Who hit you?"
"Didn't see him."
Nora phoned Gabe, getting him out of bed and then Doc Winters. Gabe said he would be there right away. Doc was out on another call, but his service would reach him.
Rex was getting in the way when she tried to get her grandfather up and to his chair behind the desk. The more she pushed the dog away the more he wanted to help. Tears of frustration, anger and fear ran down her face. Finally, she managed. It was then she noticed that the tray they kept the pay packets in was empty.
She filled a glass with cold tea from the thermos and helped her grandfather drink a bit, "Thanks girl, that's a bit better."
Leaving her grandfather, she went out to the first aid box and took out a few packets of gauze pads. She quickly brought them back, opened a couple and made a compress for the old man’s head wound. “Hold this,” she ordered.
After filling the dog's water bowl from the water cooler in the corner she asked, "Gramps, did you get the wages for the field workers today?"
"Yeah, Helen brought them over late this afternoon. I was just finishing up adding a bit for the bonuses."
"Gramps, the tray is empty. Someone took all the packets. That person is the one who hit you."
"Aw, shit," Gramps muttered.
Nora took the compress from his head and changed it for a clean one. Gramps was done with her fussing and waved her hand away. "I'm fine," he said taking the pad from her and holding it to his head himself.
"You're not fine. You've just been hit on the head." She felt her eyes filling with tears.
"It's a hard head," he countered.
A siren coming to a halt outside had Rex bounding for the door. The sound of heavy boots coming up the stairs reached the office, and Nora relaxed knowing help had arrived.
"Can't stay out of trouble, can you?" Gabe asked standing in the doorway, one hand on his gun and the other leaning on the door frame. He was just about the best-looking thing Nora had ever seen. She stood and ran to him—tears running down her face. He gathered her into his arms and planted a gentle kiss on her head.
"It's not her this time," Gramps laughed. He took the cloth off his head and showed Gabe his wound.
"Ow, that's got to hurt," Gabe said. "How much do you remember about what happened tonight?"
"I called Doc Winters, and he'll get here when he can," Nora said to Gabe.
"I told you I don't need that quack," Gramps grumbled.
"He’s coming, and that's that," she replied sternly. "If you don't behave, I'll call Nurse Hill, too."
"Not that old battle ax, please," Gramps huffed and found something in his iced tea more interesting than arguing with Nora.
"Gramps, tell me what happened," Gabe coaxed.
"I was putting the bonus in the packets for the workers tomorrow. I had a couple of other things to take care of, too. This place don't run itself. You'll figure that out quick enough.” He aimed that part at Nora.
"Rex heard something and took a walk out the door. I didn't hear him bark like he would if it was a stranger, so I thought he spied a mouse or maybe a rat or raccoon. They do come around at night. Well, I decided to stretch a bit before I quit for the night and followed Rex out and called to him. He was just sitting there with this pleased look on his face.
I took another step, and that's when I got hit. I got blindsided and didn't see who hit me, but Rex knew him. I'm sure of it."
More footfalls sounded, and Doc Winters appeared in the doorway.
"What some people won't do for a house call," Doc said, walking into the office. He placed his black bag on the desk and took out his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. "Let's take a look at that head of yours, Frank." He turned Gramps’ head to get a better look. "Hmmm, I think you need a trip to the hospital. You need your head examined, in more ways than one. Probably need a couple of stitches, too."
“Ain’t gonna happen,” Gramps answered defiantly.
Doc listened to his heart and took his blood pressure, "Pressure's high, but that's to be expected, and your heart is dancing a conga. Let's just put you in for the night."
"I don't need no damn hospital. Give me a couple of aspirin and leave me alone," the older man shouted. "Ow, not a good idea," he added—holding his head in his hands.
"Stubborn ol' fool. Nora, you can take him home, but watch him. Wake him every couple of hours. He's got a slight concussion. Too bad he wasn't hit harder. Then maybe I could shove him into the hospital for a proper checkup. Did you ever have that appointment booked for the checkup at Manatee Memorial like I asked?" he queried Nora.
"Yes, Nurse Hill called me. He has the appointment in two weeks. He wouldn't go until the picking was finished. I'm taking him myself, so he can't back out of it."
"Good, I want to see those results." Doc packed his bag and shook hands with Gabe. He tipped his hat at Nora, looked at Gramps mumbling, "Stubborn," and called his service to let them know he was leaving the Hollister place and walked out to his car.
Gabe and Nora helped Gramps down to his jeep. Nora drove, and Gabe followed them back to the house. They helped him get settled on the couch. Nora tried to put an afghan over him and left some water within his reach. He complained about all the fuss, refusing to go to his bed. "I'm fine. It will take more than a bump on the head to send me to my bed like an invalid."
They left the old man, the dog at his side, and went to the kitchen.
"How about a cup of tea, or would you prefer something cold," Nora offered.
"You got any more of those beers in the fridge?" Gabe asked.
"Good idea, I'll take one, too. We can sit on the porch." Nora grabbed two cold ones from the fridge and led the way. Flashing lights from a couple of police cars cast a kaleidoscope of blue and red in the night sky down by the packing plant.
"I called in the forensic team to go over the office. You never know. Maybe they'll find something. Hopefully fingerprints," Gabe said.
"Who could have done this? Everyone loves Gramps, and he’s always fair with everyone."
Gabe took a sip, patting Hobo’s head as she took up residence in his lap. "There is one person who has a reason to be mad at your grandfather."
"You mean Tito," Nora answered.
"Yeah, Tito. I think I'll have my men find him and bring him in." Gabe finished his beer, placed the reluctant cat in his lap onto the floor, and stood. “I'd like to stay, but even though I'm technically off duty, I want to chase this down. I'll drop by later tomorrow and check up on Gramps—and you, of course."
Nora stood and looked at the lights by the plant and then at Gabe. "I know you have to go, but I like you, uh, here with me on the porch."
"I like it, too," Gabe said. He took Nora by the shoulders and drew her closer to him. He tilted his head and gently kissed her lips. He couldn't help himself and deepened the kiss and felt her responding. She slipped her arms around his neck, holding onto him and resting her head on his shoulder long after the kiss ended. Kissing him brought to life sensations deep within her.
"You're lucky we have a chaperone. Even if he is snoring away on the couch," Gabe said, taking a breath and pushing Nora back to arm's length. In the dim light, he could still see the awakening desire in her eyes.
"I really have to go," he said with regret. "And you need to keep checking on Gramps. I also have Dan at my place. I'll come by tomorrow."
Nora walked Gabe out past her grandfather on the couch. "Night, Gabe," Gramps said. They both laughed and walked hand-in-hand to Gabe's car.
Gabe was in his office, nursing his second cup of over-brewed coffee when Sgt. Alvarez came knocking on his door. He signaled for the sergeant to come in.
"What have you got?" Gabe asked wearily. He had gotten practically no sleep after leaving Nora’s porch. Not only the events of last night had him riled up, but his thoughts also kept running off track and back to Nora.
"We got some fingerprints from the desk in that office. One of them matched a ten card right back to a recent guest of ours, Tito Ramirez."
"Good work; go pick him up. I want him in here today," Gabe said. "I'm meeting Dan for an early lunch, and then I'm going to check-on Frank Hollister. Call me when you find Ramirez."
Dan was already at the small diner when Gabe walked in. He waved him over to his booth in the back where they could talk and not be overheard. Gabe slid in, taking off his hat and sun glasses.
"Boy, do you look rough," Dan said—noticing the weary look in Gabe’s eyes.
"Yeah, yeah," he said signaling for the waitress to bring over more coffee. "Right now, the only thing keeping me upright is coffee."
"You said you had a suspect?" Dan prompted.
"Tito Ramirez." Gabe proceeded to fill Dan in on how Ramirez had worked for Hollister and got fired for falsifying records. Then he told him how Richie had gotten him bailed out.
“There are connections here,” Gabe continued. “But I can't get a handle on how it all fits yet. There are still some pieces missing. That plane showed up right when Richie and Tito got bailed out. Then on the next run, Richie turns up dead. I don't figure Tito for a killer, but he's connected somehow. I just have to figure it out."
The waitress came over, refilled their cups, and took an order for two burgers and fries.
After she left, Dan said, "I might be able to help you out a bit. I called D.C. this morning and talked to my office. Word is going around that your area is the prime location for the cartels and their cocaine drops. The Medellin Cartel is the biggest there is, and they're making a move into central Florida. Now, just what if, the plane you and Nora witnessed is dropping cocaine? Someone has to pick it up. Let's say this Richie and Tito get hired to do that pick up. What we don't know is who killed Richie and why."
Dan tucked into his burger, "Say, this is pretty good," he said around a mouthful and signaled the waitress for more coffee. “Can I get a piece of that blueberry pie, too?”
“Sure can, honey,” she said giving him a quick wink.
"Ok quit flirting with Doris and get back on track,” Gabe shook his head. “Same ol’ Dan.”
“We're back to last night and who robbed the packing plant. Who would know that the pay packets would be handed out on Friday?" Gabe asked eating more of his burger, following it with a bit of coffee to wash it down.
"And who would know about the Jessup place? An old man all by himself, an empty field, a back way in-and-out . . .?" Dan continued the thought as the two men ate their burgers in silence for a few minutes. "Who knew all these things, yet is no more than a stupid patsy?" Dan asked around a mouthful of burger—catsup on his chin.
“Tito Ramirez,” they said at the same time.
“Doris,” Dan called. “Make that pie to go.”
Dan grabbed the check from the table, "I've got an expense account," he explained. Gabe left the tip, and they hurried to get back to the station.
Reaching the station, Gabe yelled for Sgt. Alvarez, "You get a bead on Tito Ramirez yet?"
Alvarez was getting ready to go out. Putting on a flak jacket, he took an assault rifle off the rack and shouted back, "Yeah, he's at a low-rate motel out by the highway in Bradenton. I was just taking a squad out to round him up."
"Good, we'll follow you out. I want him in one piece. He's got a lot of the answers to what's been going on around here."
Dan and Gabe hurried back to Gabe’s patrol car and joined the other cars on the way to pick up Tito.
"If Tito is involved with the cartel and the cocaine drops, he must know he's in way over his head," Gabe said.
"If by any chance, he was there when Cantura was killed, he's already in deep,” Dan added. "Tito's in big trouble," Gabe said.
Dan agreed. "He knows way too much to be left running around loose."