THEY LED her away in the opposite direction of the main terminal. I followed, trailing a few yards back. The crowd of moving bodies made it easy to blend in. I pulled out my cop phone, got Randy back on the line.
“Pretend you’re talking to your snitch,” I said. “Is Heidi on her way or not?”
“We’re just through customs. We’ll be there in—”
“We?”
“Me, Detective Haagen, and a handful of uniforms. It was my tip. She told me to throw Marty in a holding cell and tag along.”
“So she didn’t call the airport police? Tell them to pick up Serena?”
“Why would she? Like I said, we’re here now.”
Meanwhile, the airport cops were steering Serena down a side hallway leading to an unmarked metal door. I hung up on Randy.
Think, think…
“Officers,” I called, running after them, waving my arms, pretending to be out of breath. “Officers, please wait.”
They turned toward me, looked none too pleased. One of them held up a hand as if to say “That’s far enough.” Serena turned, too. Her face was streaked with mascara, and she was in bad need of a Kleenex. If she recognized me, she didn’t let it show.
“There’s an unattended bag at gate 16,” I said, which wasn’t exactly a lie. “I heard some kind of rattling coming from inside. It sounded like a grandfather clock gone haywire.”
“We’ll send someone over,” the short one said, sounding bored and impatient.
Up close, the duo looked more formidable than I’d imagined. The tall one could have dunked on Jordan any day, and the short one made up for his lack of height with a barrel chest and anvil arms.
“I took a picture of the bag,” I said. “So you’d know what to look for.”
I held up my phone as if I wanted them to see, then flipped it around and hit Video.
“Smile,” I said. “You’re going to be on the six o’clock news.”
That got their attention.
“Mike, go handle this,” the pituitary case said.
“What are you, some kind of nutjob?” Mike asked, stepping toward me.
“Maybe,” I said. “Why not ask Vincent?”
He stopped in his tracks. I flashed my badge just long enough for him to glimpse the shield.
“Let’s have a private word, Mike,” I said. “Tell your partner to stay where he is.”
The truth is, they could have jumped me right there. They could have jumped me, and they could have taken me. There wasn’t any foot traffic in this corridor, and anyone peering down the hall would have seen two cops making an arrest. Mike seemed to be weighing the options. Luckily, he thought better of it. I pulled him off to the side.
“Listen,” I said. “I’m doing you a favor. I’ve got you on video, walking away with the prime suspect in a murder investigation. I’m telling you, drop it. Tampa PD is descending on gate 16 right now. They’ll want to know who paid you. Maybe you’ll stand up under a police grilling, but do you think Vincent will take that chance? Let her go, and I’ll erase this video. Right here and now, while you’re watching. All you have to do is tell Vincent the cops beat you to her.”
He was anxious now. There was sweat on his brow and he couldn’t make himself stand still. I knew what he was thinking: Do I back down or go to the mat? Which scores more points with Vincent Costello? Because say what you will about our local mob boss, but he pays way better than the Tampa International Airport Police Department.
“You’ll make it up to him,” I said.
His puffed-out chest deflated a full inch.
“Yeah, all right,” he said.
Then, to his partner: “Cut her loose.”
Serena bolted without a word. I gave each of my colleagues a no-hard-feelings handshake, then turned and followed her. By the time I got to the gate, the spectacle was in full swing, Serena kicking and thrashing like a snared cat while Heidi and Randy held on for dear life. The unis formed a small phalanx on either side, ready to catch her if she broke loose.
“Ayúdame!” Serena screamed. “Por favor…”
I joined the circle of onlookers, pushed my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose, and bent my knees until I was just able to see over the shoulder in front of me.
“We are here to help you,” Heidi said. “You understand? We’re the good guys.”
Serena lashed out with her feet, hooked her ankles around a bolted-down chair, and kept on screaming. My Spanish is less than functional, but I’m pretty sure she said that cops are the real murderers.
To Heidi’s credit, they didn’t tase her or bend her arm behind her back or even wrestle her to the ground; they just held on until the fight died down, then calmly escorted her out of the terminal.
When they were gone, I sat for a minute and watched the passengers finish boarding. Part of me still wished I could fly standby, especially now that I knew there’d be at least one empty seat.