Deke paced back and forth at the entrance to the Leon County Jail detention center. Having Rodríguez land here wasn’t just happen-stance. After Lily’s disappearance, Tallahassee State Attorney Bill Fuller had issued a warrant for Rodríguez’s arrest. Because of that warrant, and at the behest of Fuller, Tío Leo was now in Tallahassee.
A door opened, and State Prosecutor Gabriella Fuentes interrupted Deke’s pacing: “I think you’re wearing out the pavement, Mr. Deketomis.”
“Deke,” he said.
“We’re ready for you,” she said.
“I appreciate your arranging all this.”
“It was my pleasure. The state attorney said that any efforts on my part would be a small price for the admission of seeing you in action.”
“I’d like to believe you, but Bill Fuller warned me I shouldn’t be taken in by your many charms. I believe his exact quote was, ‘State Prosecutor Fuentes can cut off your head, and you won’t even know you’re bleeding.’”
The prosecutor smiled, her white teeth aglow. “This way.”
* * *
Deke entered the interview room, where he was introduced to the sheriff’s deputy who had transported Rodríguez, and to Duane Griffin, the court-appointed attorney. No introduction with Tío Leo was necessary. Deke took a seat and was flanked by Fuentes.
Griffin was that rarity of rarities in Florida. Not only didn’t he have a tan, but he had somehow also managed to retain his pasty-white complexion. Griffin immediately began voicing his objections. “May I say that all of this is highly unusual? My client hasn’t even been arraigned.”
Deke leveled a look at the young attorney that gained him the silence he wanted. “The best thing you can do for your client, Mr. Griffin, is to hear me out.”
Then he turned his attention to Rodríguez. “I would advise you to inform your mouthpiece that you’re interested in what I have to say, and that he should hold off any interruptions until I’m done.”
“That’s outrageous!” Griffin said. “That’s a violation of my client’s rights!”
“Your choice,” Deke said to Rodríguez. “Just know that I’m not in the mood for games. You can hear me out, or I can walk.”
Griffin said, “We don’t have to submit to blackmail. All of this is a clear violation of your rights. That’s . . .”
“Shut up,” Rodríguez said. Even though he was chained, that didn’t stop him from leaning back a little. He offered a mocking smile to Deke and said, “Your show, Joe.”
“You’ve got that right,” Deke said. “The last time we talked you were holding a gun on me, Mr. Rodríguez. When I informed you that I was an attorney, that seemed to greatly amuse you. If you’ll recall, you said to me, ‘What are you going to do? Sue me?’ I don’t think I ever got a chance to adequately answer your question, but will do so now. I don’t see the need to sue you, because unless you comply with what we want, you’ll be long dead before I even get a chance to file the paperwork.”
“That’s it!” Griffin said. “We’re done here.”
Deke ignored the lawyer. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a picture that he had been holding at the ready for months, and tossed it on the table. The photo showed three men arm in arm. One of the men in the picture was a much younger Nick Deketomis.
“They called us the ‘three amigos’ back in the good old days. I’m the guy on the right. On the left is State Attorney Bill Fuller. As for the man in the middle, that was the chief investigator in the office where Bill and I worked. He is dead now, God rest his soul, but he’s not forgotten. Bill was the best man at his wedding, and I was given the honor of being godfather to his only child.”
Deke reached out his index finger and slammed it in the center of the picture. “Does this man look familiar, Mr. Rodríguez? Please take a close look. Do you see a resemblance?”
“I never seen that dude.”
“I didn’t ask whether you’d ever seen him. I asked if you knew anyone who bore a resemblance to him.”
Tío Leo looked at the picture and then turned away from it. That was his tell. He’d made the connection.
Deke said, “Art Reyes is the man in that picture. Maybe you should have asked Lily Reyes, the fifteen-year-old girl you sexually trafficked for the better part of a year, about her father.”
Rodríguez attempted a look of befuddlement. “Lily who?”
“That’s a nonstarter. You ran pictures of Lily on the dark web, saying she was available for good times. We can link you to those. And we have statements from three other underage girls whom you also sexually trafficked that will corroborate what I just said. You’re not going to be able to walk away from what you did.”
Rodríguez shrugged. “Then why we talking?”
Deke laughed. “That’s funny.”
“What’s funny?”
“You seem to think that you’re the one holding the cards. If there’s any begging that’s going to happen here, you’ll be the one doing it.”
“You’re loco, pendejo.”
“You want to live? That’s the question you have to ask yourself right now. This isn’t about our last go-around. Both of us know that should you live long enough to see a trial, you’ll be convicted of aggravated battery and attempted murder. That’s a given. And in combination with your criminal record, that would result in you getting put away for a long, long time. But I’m not going to go there. You can get a pass on what you did to me. My interest is Lily.”
Deke slid his finger over to the picture, settling under the man on the left. “That’s the state attorney’s interest as well.”
Tío Leo looked from the man in the photo back to Deke.
“Sylvia Reyes retained the services of my firm. That means I’ll need to periodically ask questions of you in regards to what transpired with her daughter, Lily. State Attorney Fuller tells me his office will need to be asking their own questions of you as well. Because of that, he’ll want you somewhere not far away. Since Raiford Prison is in nearby Bradford County, that seems like the ideal venue to serve both our purposes.”
Rodríguez slammed his hands on the table. “That’s bullshit!”
“Bullshit? I don’t understand.” Deke’s tone made it clear he did understand.
“I go to Raiford, I’m dead.”
“Really?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what went down with Cortez, pendejo cabron.”
Deke pretended to search his memory. “Cortez?”
“MS-13 thinks I had something to do with his death.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Rodríguez, but it’s been a long time since I was a prosecutor, and I’m afraid I don’t know jack about this gang or that gang.”
“Bullshit.”
Florida’s prisons were arguably the worst in the country. The gang violence was so bad, prison authorities tried to keep feuding gangs from being placed in the same penitentiaries. Rodríguez was a Latin King. Since MS-13 dominated the cells of Raiford, it would not be a good place for a Latin King to go. Especially a Latin King who was believed to have participated in the death of Pablo Cortez, formerly of MS-13.
Griffin said, “This is a blatant abuse of my client’s rights!”
Deke said nothing, just let his finger travel once more to the picture of State Attorney Fuller. Rodríguez and Deke locked eyeballs. The stare-down lasted maybe ten seconds, long enough for Tío Leo to get a take on who he was dealing with. Deke welcomed his scrutiny. Rodríguez had survived on the streets by being able to read people. Deke wanted him to see he wasn’t bluffing. Either Rodríguez complied, or he’d be dead in a matter of days. And Deke wouldn’t lose a minute’s sleep over the other man’s death.
Finally, Rodríguez said, “You want what I got to say, then I serve time where I choose.”
Deke exchanged glances with the prosecutor seated next to him. When she nodded, Deke said, “The state prosecutor believes that can be arranged, provided you give me what I need.”
“Pinche madre.” Rodríguez said, but his curse sounded more tired than anything else. “What do you want to know?”
“Where’s Lily?”
“I couldn’t tell you. You’ll have to ask that Russian bitch.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“She got in touch with me through a members-only message board on the dark web, responding to one of my advertisements. Her interest was in Lily, or at least a part of her. Some clients got specific tastes. Usually they want to see shots of tits, ass, or snatch. But this lady had a different fetish. She wanted close-ups of Lily’s eyes. Lady had a thing for green. So do I, but a different kind of green.”
“All your communication was through a message board?”
“Not all. She called me on a burner phone. That’s when I learned she was female, and when I heard her accent. I figured she might be Russian mob.”
“Did you meet her in person?”
Rodríguez shook his head. “She sent the money along with her muscle. The help that took Lily away also sounded Russian.”
“You ever learn the woman’s name?”
“Her hired help called her Vicky.”