Martinez tapped on his phone screen. It was just past ten o’clock pm. Looking around the room at his team he said, “Alright, everyone understands their positions and what to look out for? We’ve got all the exits to the casino covered and two men sitting on Volstead, since we determined Robinson’s girlfriend works there as a bartender and it's where he hangs out on the weekends. We keep in communication at all times. Reyes and his partner will be in plain clothes inside Chip’s posing as drinking and gambling customers, keeping an eye out for the actual drop.”
Chico nodded at his friend and took over. “You’ve all been sent pictures of the money man, Robinson, his vehicle, and his drivers. Myself and Agent Jackson will follow the target out of the building once the transaction is complete and only after he exits the establishment, do we make our move. We take them all down as soon as he attempts to enter the vehicle at the pick-up location. Although they’ve been creatures of habit so far, that could change and we all need to be on top of our game. We get one shot at this. Does anyone have any questions?” He looked around the room at his team dressed in black with white FBI letters on their jackets, slightly revealing the bullet-proof vests underneath. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
Sitting on the sofa with a glass of red wine in her hand Elizabeth gazed into the fire place, losing herself in the flames and the vinyl playing in the background. Her choice of albums for the evening was lined up for the next hour or more. She was nervous as is but the music helped her keep her mind off things, to an extent. Her phone vibrated against the coffee table. It was China. Smiling she swiped the screen and answered. “Hey you.”
“Hey yourself. What are you up to?”
“Oh. you know, a fire, a glass of wine, music. My regular go-to. I opted against a warm bath.” She giggled slightly. Pulling her phone from her ear, she looked at the time and asked, “What are you up to? How did your date go?”
Sighing on the other end, China admitted, “Obviously not so well if I’m talking to you. That’s a whole other story. I just wanted to check in. Make sure you’re doing okay. I know you have a lot on your plate right now.”
Shaking her head as if China could see her, she replied, “I’m just trying to practice a little self-care and get this night over with to be honest. I just hope come tomorrow morning, I can get a little relief. I know I’ve been distant and I promise I will share everything with you soon.”
With an enthusiastic voice she said, “Liz, it’s okay. I get it. It just sucks a little that I’m your best friend and have no idea what is going on with you. I just want to help.”
“I know. And it totally sucks not being able to share, trust me. But I promise, after tonight, I’ll tell you everything.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that. So, you better call me for coffee first thing in the morning. I want all the details!”
Smiling over the phone she said, “It’s a date.”
“Okay, well, I need get out of these clothes and pour myself a nightcap. I love you!”
“I love you!”
Martinez sat in his vehicle at a good distance from the entrance of the casino but far enough away to go unnoticed in the shadows. His position gave him eyes on all vehicles coming and going as well as people entering and exiting the casino. He pulled a water bottle out of the cooler from the back seat. As soon as he opened the cap and took a drink, he spotted Steve’s car. Radioing the team, he said, “Robinson’s vehicle just entered the perimeter; white, four-door BMW, tinted windows. Stand by.” He watched as the vehicle dropped off the money man and crept off to a private parking spot not far from the entrance.
Sitting at one of the bars by himself, Chico sipped on a tonic with lime. He fit in perfectly as the lonely middle-aged man looking for some action on a Saturday night. Keeping an eye on the target, he pulled out his phone and began to scroll, remaining inconspicuous. Witnessing the target trade a briefcase of money for chips and then join a poker table, he updated his team. “Gonna be a little bit. He just joined a Texas hold’em table.”
Martinez laughed and responded, “He’s been going for the quick losses. Black Jack, Roullette. They’re gonna make us work for it this time.”
Acting as if he was talking on the phone and checking out a pretty lady, Chico winked at her as he said to Martinez, “Hell, I got all night, hermano.”
“Yeah well, personally I’d like to get this over with and be with mi mujer.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it.
The heckling from his team came through the radio, once the translation of ‘mi mujer’ was revealed. Each man sharing a childish joke of his own and inferring Martinez was ‘whipped’.
One man chimed in after searching for the definition on his phone, “So, I’m confused, is the translation, my wife or my woman?”
Someone else chimed in, “Does it matter? Martinez got the fever, man. That shit will kill you. Just ask my cousin.”
“Don’t hate!” Martinez couldn’t help but laugh at some of the things they flung at him. “Alright, alright. Get back to work.”
Everyone held steady in their positions for nearly two hours sharing goofy tidbits with each other. After going quiet from the conversation for some time, Chico’s voice came through the radio, “Guys, guys, target is packing up, getting ready to cash out. Everyone in position.”
The radio went eerily still.
“Target is on the move. Headed towards the main entrance.” Finishing the last sip of his drink, Chico threw a five-dollar bill on the bar and headed out behind the man. Nearing the exit, Chico saw the white vehicle pull up to the door. With the man several feet away, he yelled over the radio, “Go, go, go!”
Within seconds a black SUV and sedan blocked the vehicle in the driveway as another black vehicle squealed its tires coming around the corner from the back of the building. Red and blue lights began to flash, attracting the attention of others and drawing them out to the parking lot. Eight men with guns pulled surrounded the vehicle while Chico grabbed the man with the briefcase from behind, slamming him onto the car. “Como va su dia, amigo,” he asked as he yanked the briefcase from the man and slapped handcuffs onto him.
Pointing his gun at the back passenger side door, Martinez yelled, “Open the door and step out slowly!”
Another agent had his weapon on the driver and secured him as soon as he stepped out of the vehicle. Big D’s lips puckered as he said, “There’s no one else in the car, my man.”
Keeping his weapon raised, Martinez slowly opened the vehicle door with his left hand. The back seat was empty. Lowering his gun and looking around in disgust, Martinez noticed Lucas standing off in the corner texting on his phone. He walked over to him and asked, “Who you texting there, Lucas?”
He looked up for a moment. “Buddy of mine. Pft, he is not going to believe this!”
Putting his hand out Martinez demanded, “I’m gonna need your phone, Lucas.”
He caught his eyes with defiance. “What?”
“Your phone, Lucas,” Martinez demanded.
Grimacing he replied, “Get the hell outta here, Martinez. You’re kidding with me, right? Is this some kind of test for the detective exam?”
“Lucas, we’re gonna need you to come down to the station and have a little chat. If you don’t want to give me your phone, I’ll get a warrant and the judge will grant it. It’ll be better for you to cooperate.”
His face reflecting the seriousness of the situation, he handed over his phone voluntarily and Martinez stuffed it into his pocket. “Come with me.” Speaking to the two men sitting on the Volstead bar, he radioed in, “What’s happening downtown?”
The man behind the wheel of the van down the street said, “Haven’t seen movement since we got here. Quiet as a church mouse.”
“Shit!” Frustrated, he allowed the other officers to handle the driver and the money man while Martinez put Lucas in his vehicle and drove to the station. Pulling into the roundabout, he parked in front of the station doors and led Lucas to the interview room off of the lobby and slammed the door behind them. Refusing to sit, he gripped the back of the steel chair in front of him and glared at Lucas. “You need to tell me where Steve Robinson is.”
His demeanor was beginning to show signs of fear. “Look man, I don’t know what the hell is going on but -”
“Save it Lucas. You’re Robinson’s right-hand man. I can’t believe it took me this long to figure it out.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoaaa! Robinson’s man? What the hell, Martinez?”
“That’s right. We know everything and we’re going to prove it. Six years ago, at the drug task force, you started informing him about Liz when she tried to turn him in for drug trafficking, you helped target her with Johnny Warren when she wouldn’t do what you wanted, you hacked my emails so she couldn’t show up at Robinson’s parole hearing, and now you’ve embedded yourself so far deep into his shit, you’re going to go down for money laundering. The feds are all over this, as you can see, and I need to know where Robinson is - now!”
Lucas’ mind was swirling around the room. “Dude, I have – no – idea what the hell you are talking about!”
The metal chair made a horrid sound against the floor as Martinez pushed it into the side of the table growing more impatient by the second. “How exactly did you land the job at Chip’s?”
The album Morrison Hotel by the Doors dropped on the turntable and Road House Blues began to play, putting Elizabeth in a flirty mood. She stood up and danced around the table knowing that after tonight, she wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder any more. And neither would Danielle.
There was a short pause before the next track began to play. Hearing a car pull into the driveway diverted her attention. She wasn't expecting anyone. She was only waiting for a text from Martinez letting her know what was going on. She tapped the screen of her phone to see it was 1:30 am. Peeking out the blinds of the side door, she saw Shawn Johnson staring out at the lake, waiting for her to answer.
Turning off the alarm and unbolting the lock, she partially opened the door. “Detective Johnson?”
He turned to her with a large smile on his face. “Hey Elizabeth, how you doing?”
“I'm okay, I guess. I don’t mean to sound rude but, what are you doing here?”
“I know it’s late, but Martinez asked me to check on you. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Instantly insecure she asked, “Oh my gosh seriously?”
His face was expressionless. “Apparently there’s an APB out on Robinson. Something went down at the casino and they made a few arrests. I guess Robinson is involved somehow and they can’t find him. Martinez was worried about you so he had me come out.” The lake breeze caught his ear through the porch screen before he asked, “It's kind of cold. You’re not gonna make me sit out here and wait till Martinez gets here, are you?”
She looked around nervously but felt reassured by his presence. Embarrassed at herself for questioning him, she was glad he was there. “I’m so sorry! Please, come on in. I have some coffee already made. It’s not fresh but I’m sure it’s still good.” Allowing him to enter, she shut the door behind him. “Of course, I have wine too but I guess you’re on duty, huh?”
Looking around he replied, “Coffee is fine. Thank you.”
Elizabeth started towards the kitchen and spoke so he could hear her. “I guess Angel finally filled you in on what was going on?”
Making his way to the living room, he glanced at the fire and the glass of wine on the table. “You could say that. I heard quite a bit on my scanner. I know they arrested Robinson’s driver and some other guy with him. They thought Robinson would be in the vehicle. Something about laundering money? Martinez took Officer Lucas to the station to question him. I guess he was there when it went down. They’re probably going to be with him for a while.”
Brushing it off she replied, “I guess that makes sense. I’m really glad he asked you to come. Of course, I thought it would be a quiet evening and after tonight, I wouldn’t have to worry. So much for that!” Pausing for a brief moment, reality hit her. “Do they have any idea where Steve might be?”
He looked around the house scoping things out. “I take it you got the low down on whatever’s going on?”
She opened the cabinet, pulling a mug from the shelf. “I was actually the first to know. I brought it to Angel. It’s kind of a long story.”
Shawn walked over to the stereo turning the volume up excessively. Elizabeth finished pouring the coffee and placed the carafe back onto the pot’s burner. She slowly walked to the entry of the dining room, holding the hot cup with both hands as he inched towards her. “What are you doing,” she asked.
Lucas pulled out the chair in front of him and sat down. Leaning his elbows on the table he cradled his shaking head with his hands. “Oh my God.” He looked up with sincerity and begged with Martinez, “Man, I don’t know what the hell is going on, seriously. I – I needed a steady second job to pay for school, man. I’m almost ready to graduate! Johnson told me I would be a shoe-in at the casino. Especially since Gardner’s top security guy used to be SPD. I was sold when he said it paid really well!”
Taken aback, Martinez begged for confirmation. “Johnson? Detective Shawn Johnson told you about the job at Chip’s?” His mind reeled and began to piece together all the evidence he originally missed. Johnson was undercover at the drug task force for years. Johnson was the one who screwed up his email about the parole hearing, sending it to the wrong recipient. One of the last conversations they had replayed in his head verbatim…
“I didn’t take you for a moonlighting kind of guy.”
“Yeah, me neither but early retirement comes at a cost.”
Martinez slammed the chair into the table again. “Son – of – a – bitch!” Pulling out his phone, he hit Liz’s contact.
Leaning on the dining room chair in front of him, Shawn cocked his head and crossed his fingers together, curling his lips at Elizabeth in disgust. “You have been a thorn in my side since the first time I heard your name -”
Elizabeth’s heart began to thump beneath her breasts. Her grip on the coffee cup became more pronounced and she took a deep breath through her nose without changing the stone expression on her face. Unable to move, she felt the weight of the slippers on her feet as if they’d turned to cement.
“- I told Steve you were going to continue to be a problem but he just wouldn’t listen to me. Lucky for you, he wouldn’t agree to how I originally suggested handling you. Of course, now it’s a moot point. Threatening you didn’t work, running you off the road didn’t work.” Letting out a disturbing laugh, he admitted, “Hell, I even tried to get you fired with that whole Brandon DeFranco debacle.”
The corners of her eyebrows pulled towards her nose in wonder.
He proudly stated, “Yeah, from what I hear it only resulted in you receiving a reprimand of sorts. In all honesty, Elizabeth, after your parent’s accident six years ago, we thought for sure you would get the message and we would never hear from you again.”
A tear streamed down her cheek and for a moment Shawn preyed on her weakness. “That’s right. In Steve’s original plan, you were supposed to be in the car. But I think the good-girl tragedy it turned out to be, gave the story the little extra drama it needed. Hell, I thought after losing her parents, and after having been through such a traumatic trial, no more Elizabeth Strong! But here we are.” He stood up, his back cracking as he straightened it.
Unsure of whether the lump in her throat was about to unleash an ugly cry, or if she was about to vomit, the bass from the music thrashed her eardrums. The song Peace Frog began playing, the lyrics spinning her mind out of control -
- There’s blood in the streets
it’s up to my ankles,
There’s blood in the streets
it’s up to my knees –
Entering fight or flight mode, Elizabeth gained her composure and glanced behind Shawn, noticing her phone light up on the coffee table. There was no way to get past him. Quickly gaining control of her thoughts, she gripped the handle of the coffee cup and flung the hot liquid across the table into his face and bolted to her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her and secured the lock. Her back against the door, she leaned over attempting to catch her breath.
“God – damn – it!” screeched Shawn as he swiped his hand down his face and flicked the brown liquid from his fingers in anger. Slowly walking around the table, he reached the door she fled through. Resting his head against it, he knocked lightly. “Liz, open the door and this doesn’t get ugly. Come on out. It’s time for us to take a little trip.”
Falling to the floor on her knees, she lifted the bed-skirt and pulled out the gun case. Fumbling at first to open it, she grabbed the gun from its storage and crawled around to the other side of the bed for cover. Steadying her hands on the mattress, she directed her target to the door and wrapped her fingers around the grip placing her forefinger over the trigger. Her heart thumping, she feared she would pull it immaturely.
Ordering Lucas into his vehicle, Martinez sped out of the station parking lot, placing his light on top of his vehicle. His voice was calm, yet urgent over the police radio. “This is Detective Angel Martinez; I need an all-points bulletin on Detective Shawn Johnson. Officers in need of immediate assistance at 210 Cedar Lane. I repeat! Officers need immediate assistance at 210 Cedar Lane!”
Growing impatient, Shawn pulled his gun from its holster. Tapping the heavy, steel barrel on the hollow, wooden door he said, “Liz, you got nowhere to go and we’re running out of time.”
Her elbows were locked and her finger brushed the trigger, waiting.
Backing away from the door Shawn lifted his leg, pulled back, and planted the bottom of his boot above the doorknob. The door forcefully flung open, splintering the wood on either side.
Without hesitation Elizabeth pulled the trigger, the bullet burying in his right shoulder. The sound was deafening. She pulled the trigger again.
Grabbing his shoulder, he fell back, landing on the dining room chair just outside the bedroom door, before he fell to the floor, his weapon discharging from the blow. His face, overcome with disbelief.
Elizabeth’s eyes became saturated and she struggled to breathe. The heavy piece of metal relaxed in her hand and fell against the comforter. Squinting her eyes shut, she twisted her neck and tried to shake the ringing from her ears. As she opened her eyes, red and blue angels drifted around her before everything turned black.
Batting her lashes, she came to. “Hola, bella,” said Martinez as he brushed her brow with his thumb and smiled. “I knew you were a decent shot.”
Realizing she was in a hospital bed she panicked. “Oh my God, where’s Shawn? Did you find Steve? What about Danielle?” A sharp pain in her side made her wince.
“Hey, hey! It’s okay. Lay back, Liz. You’re being treated for trauma. Johnson was able to let off a round after you shot him. Unfortunately, you were in the path of the ricochet. Don’t worry, the bullet went right through and it didn’t hit any major organs. You’re gonna be okay. You passed out and were dehydrated from the wine. Not to mention, you shot someone, for Christ’s sake. You’ll be able to go home soon, I promise. Johnson is here at the hospital and in police custody. He’ll be fine. At least until a jury gets a hold of him.”
She entertained his enthusiasm by mimicking it and allowed herself to relax, laying her head back on the pillow.
“And Robinson is in custody. He was at the Volstead the whole time. His little girlfriend was having a private party for him upstairs. Turns out, Katrina has an apartment in the same building. As for Johnson, he was staking out the casino and saw the arrests go down. He knew the walls were shaking. He was desperate and took it out on you. No one had clue.” He brushed her hair off her forehead.
Her eyes begged, “Just tell me we got ‘em.”
“We got ‘em. Liz. You guys really got him this time.”