A Mighty Fortress (30 page)

She pulled away first and rubbed my cheek. “Your scruff grows fast.”

“I was thinking about shaving it all off, starting from scratch.”

Her head turned to the left, then the right, and then she shook her head.
 

I said okay with another kiss. This one was shorter, by my doing. “I want us to get away, Val. Let’s go somewhere nice.”

She kept smiling while she said, “That sounds good. Where did you have in mind?”

“Asheville. It’s only a day’s drive. They have some great breweries we could check out while we get away from this heat.”

She rubbed my scruff. “I’m a Tampanian, remember? I like the heat.”

“I don’t believe even native Floridians really like this heat.”

“We do. You wouldn’t understand, Yankee.”

“Oh, I’m a Yankee now? What are you, a Southern belle?”

“I’m a Cuban princess, as far as you’re concerned.” She slid over onto my lap. “So treat me right, Yankee.”

“I think you’d like New York. We could go there.”

“I’ve been there. I liked it for a weekend.” She rested her head on my shoulder, the good one. “The mountains do sound nice.”

“Let’s do it.”

She smiled, realizing I was serious. “When do we leave?”

“How about tomorrow?”
 

“Seriously?” she giggled. “I guess work would go for it.”

“Of course they will. You haven’t taken time off since you started there last year.”

“It
would
be nice to get a little time off before classes start again.”

I rubbed her cheek. “I’ll call around, find us a nice bed and breakfast.”

She moved her head to my lap and looked up at me. “I’ll pack when I wake up. When do we leave?”

I cleared my throat. “I thought maybe you and Rico could leave by lunchtime. I should be there by Saturday.”

She jerked away from me, as though I were on fire. “What the
hell
, Milo? Rico’s coming? And you’re coming
Saturday
?”

I nodded. “I just need to wrap up a few loose ends in the case.”

“Then why don’t we leave Saturday when you’re finished, and Rico can stay home?”

I took her by the shoulders and locked eyes. “Val, this job is getting dangerous. I don’t want you in town for the next few days.”

“So you’re going to make me leave?”

I nodded. “Because I care for you.”

“And you try buttering me up by telling me you want to get away with me? Why didn’t you just tell me you were shipping me off to begin with?”

“Val, I
do
want to get away with you.”

She lunged off the couch, pushing off on my bad shoulder. I moaned.
 

“I didn’t mean to do that,” she said.

“I’m sorry. Val, this case is almost over. Truly.”

“Screw the case, Milo. What do you care? What does it even mean to you anymore?”

I didn’t say anything.

“For crying out loud, you’re the only person I know suffering from a stress disorder who thinks the cure is more stress. You’re out of the war now! It’s time to stop trying to get yourself killed!”

“I’m not trying to get myself killed.”

“You are, Milo. That’s exactly what you’re doing.” She stormed toward the front door. “And here’s one more thing. Nothing you do will bring your parents back. Not fighting in Iraq. Not seeking justice in Florida, or whatever the hell you think you’re doing. Don’t you get it?” She made sure she had my attention, as if I could look anywhere else. “
There is no justice
, Milo.”

Everything she’d said hit me like an uppercut to the gut, the most painful punch I’d ever taken. A shade of remorse showed on her brow, but anger still burned in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But you need to face the truth if we’re going to be together.”

The front door opened, and the house seemed to shift with Rico’s entrance. His grey Adidas shirt was drenched, and he panted. “You lovebirds fighting again?”

“We’re not fighting!” Val screamed. “We’re just
talking
.”

“Okay!” Rico yelled back with a smirk. “Let’s
talk
.” He looked to me. “Hi, Milo!” His voice grew raspy from screaming.

I took a breath and moaned a hello.

He winked at me. “Got to hand it to you, Fortress, you deserve this one.”

I raised my hand. “I get it, Rico. What kind of asshole leaves the hospital like that?”

Val grabbed the door handle. “Val,” I said as she slammed the door open.

She turned around, as if I had about a second to speak. I drew a blank, so I said, “What about my bandages?”

She turned her glare on her brother. “
You
change his bandages.”
 

A moment later, her tires pealed in the driveway, and then the lights of her car disappeared.

Rico grabbed me by the hands and pulled me off the couch. “Got to hand it to you, Fortress, you got a way with the ladies. Especially my sister.” He smiled once I was standing and gave me a hug. “Now come on, lover boy, let’s take care of your wounds.”

For a man who weighed over three hundred pounds and once squatted more than half a ton without the assistance of a ply squat suit, Rico Aguilar glowed with the warmth of a loving mother. In fact, some of the younger guys at the gym even called him Mama Rico due to his strict discipline and nurturing spirit. Sitting on his toilet, I marveled at the care he gave to cleaning my wounds with alcohol, applying ointment, and then finally clean bandages. He even had latex gloves under his sink, along with a hospital-grade first aid kit.
 

As I told him a little more about my predicament and implored him to do whatever it took to get Val away from Tampa, he finished taping the last bandage to my jaw. “I worry about you two sometimes,” he said.

“You think we fight too much?”

He leaned back to get a better look at my face. “No offense, Fortress, but you’re both kind of damaged goods.”

“I know. That’s why I thought we were a good match.”

His face was suddenly serious, but still warm. “You know how much I care for my sister?”
 

Though I was sure I couldn’t comprehend the depths of it, I nodded and said, “Yes, you know that.”

“So if I ever come to the conclusion you’re not the right guy for her…”

I looked him dead in the eyes. “Then I’ll fight you tooth and nail to change your mind.”

He patted me on the good cheek. “And we know how that will end, don’t we?”

“Would we be pushing it if you just kidnap her tonight, and I’ll join you in a few days and take over?”

He grunted. “Fortress, you know better than that. She’d whip both our asses.”

“I do, Rico. I do.”

Ordinarily, I’d wake up on a Friday morning with some sense of joy. It would be, after all, Friday, and usually I’d have a date with Val to look forward to, or at least a new release party at Cigar City to attend. On this particular Friday, I awoke early, feeling nothing but dread. I didn’t even have to wait for it. In fact, I think the dread woke me up. Not that I was hard to wake up; I’d slept poorly on Rico’s couch that night, hopeful that Val might return, wake me up, give me my medicine, and hold me the rest of the night. That didn’t happen, but Rico sure as hell snored all night, waking me up several times.
 

I woke up for good before sunrise. There was no sign of Val, and Rico was still snoring a symphony in his bedroom. I left him a note thanking him for the first aid, reminding him to get Val out of Dodge, and suggesting he get checked out for sleep apnea.
 

On the drive home, I thought about my upcoming trip to Wauchula to look for Angie. I didn’t exactly have much to go on. Then again, I wasn’t sure you needed much to get started in a town like that.
 

As I reached my driveway, I remembered I hadn’t checked my mail in a few days. I pulled a hunk of paper from the box. It would have to wait for the weekend to be sorted. Once inside, I set the mail on the end table nearest my front door. I needed coffee and food in my stomach, so I stumbled into my kitchen.

“Top of the morning to you.” Giuseppe sat at my kitchen table.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” I growled.

“I hope you give us a reason to, and soon. What do you have for me?”

I didn’t answer him right away. I dropped a dark roast into the Keurig and hit Brew. “Can I get you some coffee?”

“I don’t really drink caffeine. And that green tea you fed me yesterday didn’t sit well with me.”

“Decaf?”

He shook his head. “Never had the stomach for it, but you should know that.”

I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but my coffee was done. I put another one in for when I was finished and sat down with the finished cup. “I might have a lead on the girl.”

“Do tell.”

“I tracked down a girl who used to work with her. She told us a little about where she’s from and about her family. It’s not much, but it’s the first lead we’ve had.”

He looked down at the table and frowned, and then looked up at me. “I do hope you can do better than that.”

“It’s barely been twelve hours since we last talked.”

He shrugged. “That’s no excuse.” He produced the chrome piece and set it on the table with a gentle spin. “What else is new?”

I sipped my coffee. “The police served a warrant on Don Alexi last night. He ran, but I saw police removing a boatload of equipment from his place.”

“So, is he the guy?”

I shook my head. “Like I said, he has an alibi.”

“That you also said has a hole in it.”

“Besides, I’ve seen the guy lie before. He told me he had nothing to do with the murder, and I believe him.”
 

“So you’re a mind reader?” Giuseppe asked.

“I have a good bullshit detector.” I finished my first coffee and stood for the next one.

“Then I suggest you put it to use today. I’ll pay you another visit tomorrow morning. When I do, I want to know who you think is most likely involved, if it’s not Alexi.”

I almost asked what would happen if I didn’t, but the answer was implied by the circumstances—most notably, his repositioning of the chrome pistol.
 

He stood and started for the door. “By the way, how is your neck?” he asked on his way out.

“I was shot in the shoulder and jaw. My neck is fine.”

“No, I mean your neck, from sleeping the way you did on that couch. It looked quite painful. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, looked quite comfortable in her twin bed.”

I turned to him. “You know I have my limits, right?”

He nodded. “Maybe we’ll get to test them soon.”

He disappeared. I picked up my phone and called Rico. His phone went right to voicemail, which told me it probably was dead.
 

“Rico, if you’ve ever listened to anything I’ve told you, please get Val out of town today.” I sighed. “Call me.”

Then I tried Val. Her phone rang two and a half times and went to voicemail, which told me she’d hit the decline button. “It’s me. If you ever listen to anything I’ve told you, please go with your brother today. I’m really sorry for last night and not being honest with you. And I’m sorry for, well, me.”

I ended the call. I was ready for breakfast, but bathroom duty called. I carried my phone with me and set it on the sink while I did my business. It started ringing before I’d finished. I hoped it was Val or Rico calling back, but it was a number I didn’t recognize.

I answered the call and heard sniffles and sobs. “Is this the investigator? Milo Porter?” It was a woman, and she was crying all right.
 

“Who is this?”

“This is Beverly Alexi, Don’s wife. Don told me to call you if anything ever happened to him.”

“This is Milo. What happened to Don, Beverly?”

She cried louder, then finally choked out, “He was shot. They say he shot himself this morning.”

“Where?”

“At the shooting range where he keeps all his guns. He’s dead. I-I don’t believe it, but he’s dead.”

“Who told you about this?”

“Two detectives just left here.”

“Was one of them named Chris Rodriguez?”

“Yes,” she wailed. “I don’t believe this is happening. What do I do?”

“Beverly, I need to talk to you. Not on the phone. And not at your house.”

“Where?”

“Meet me at the Starbuck’s at Westshore Mall in an hour.”

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this.” She sobbed for what seemed like a minute and groaned a few phrases I couldn’t understand other than that she really loved Don. After she calmed down, she repeated, “I can’t believe this.”

“I know you can’t. And I’m going to do what I can to help you.”

“Okay,” she said, catching her breath.

“Beverly, do not trust anyone on this.”

“Okay,” she said again.
 

“Even the police.”
 

“I know. Westshore Mall in one hour. How will I know it’s you?”

“You can’t miss me.” I glanced at myself in the mirror. My hair was growing over my ears, and my beard was coming in patchy. It was time for a change. “I’m six-six with a shaved head and a bandage on my jaw.”

I didn’t think you could scare someone already in shock, but she stopped sobbing on a dime, as if I had. I checked myself in the mirror again, looking for something less intimidating to identify myself with. “And I’ll be wearing a Johnny Cash T-shirt.”

I started with an electric trimmer to my head. All the brown curly locks Val used to run her hands through fell to the floor of my garage. Then I took the trimmer to my face and cut off the patchy stubble. I had a hardly-used can of Barbasol shaving cream under my sink that the last owner had left behind. I shook the can, pressed the button, and watched a ball of foam grow in my hand. I lathered the foam on the top of my head and down the sides of my face and jaw. I removed the bandages from my jaw and applied the cream around the stitches. Then I started with the razor on the top of my head and worked my way around.
 

Fifteen minutes later, I stared at a stranger in the mirror.

Westshore Mall was slammed. Friday, mid-August; I figured it was back-to-school time. I had to park on the top floor of the parking garage. I opened the door to my car and stepped into a heap of dead air. Traffic on I-275 just above me rumbled in my ears. I entered the mall through the entrance by Macy’s.