Fire Escape - Book Three: Troubled Heroes Series (An Action Thriller) (20 page)

Detective Reynolds nodded toward her partner and sat in the other chair. "The floor is yours, Vasquez. The man wants the truth. It's a bitter pill to swallow, McGinnis."

Pulling out his notepad, Vasquez flipped through the pages. Probably another stupid ass game to keep the anticipation up. "We have solid evidence that puts you at the scene of the latest fire." Looking up, he smiled. "Your FDNY badge was in the gutter right on the street in front of the building. And if that wasn't enough, we've got the person pointing you out."

"My badge?" Michael felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. He always left his badge in his locker. There was no need to carry it when off duty and he didn't want to run the risk of losing it at a fire. Regardless, it was just something they had when they wore their formal uniform.

"Yes, your badge. Matches your number on file."

It had to be Gregg. He had gotten into his locker and planted it. He wanted to say so much more, but knew he needed a lawyer there to protect him. He wasn't good at this and with his out of control temper, he knew he'd say something that would incriminate himself.

"Must've fallen out of your wallet and you didn't realize it," Reynolds added on. "Doesn't seem like rock hard evidence, but we present this to the jury, as well as the witness, and your recent history with all of the issues you've gone through and it proves to be something even a first year law school student could put away." She jotted something down."So tell me McGinnis, why did you carry it to the fires? Did you want to feel powerful? Most criminals have a trademark that they attach to each of their crimes. Was yours somehow associated with your badge?"

Michael tried hard not to speak. Would silence make him look just as guilty? "Finding my badge could be construed as circumstantial. I'm all over New York for my job. I could've dropped it on a different call." He was feeding them bullshit. He knew for a fact that the badge never left his locker unless he had to wear his formal wear. He couldn't plead that until he had better proof that someone took it.

"This warehouse is out of your department's jurisdiction. You ever ride with other engine companies?"

"I have before, yes."

"Not lately, I'm sure. Your badge in front of an arson site - Michael, this isn't gonna help your case. Like we said earlier, confess and don't waste our time."

"I'm not gonna confess to something I didn't do."

Detective Vasquez cocked his head to the side. "No? I say you have a lot of motive too. We know about Viper the bookie going after you and your brother. You almost got killed in a warehouse fire he set. They say people snap when put in intense situations like that. And you're a firefighter. You see how fires start every day. You've got the knowledge needed to set these burns off. You've got the intense situation that seemed to screw you up even worse than you already were. Now you want the attention. You want everyone to know you don't want to be messed with. So you come up with this idea to start burning the city down, one warehouse at a time." Vasquez paused, patting Michael on the cheek. "Guess what? You are getting noticed. You just fucked up the plan a lot sooner than you wanted by dropping your badge at the scene. That's a shame, too. Without hard physical evidence like that, arsons rarely get solved. You could've had a good thing going."

Michael slammed his free hand down
on the table. So much for keeping his cool. "I'm done talking. I want my phone call. I want a lawyer."

The detectives looked at each other, each one smirking. Michael was so angry that he wanted to reach out and hit something. This was a nightmare. A living nightmare he wouldn't wake up from.

"That what you want, McGinnis? Your phone call and a lawyer?"

"Yes, damn it! That's my right."

Detective Vasquez nodded. "You're right, it is. But you know what happens after your phone call? You get put in a cell with a bunch of other pillars of the community until we get the fine print worked out. You know, things like bail, if they decide to give it to you. You think you can survive being thrown into the pit with the rest of the filthy animals we have under lock and key?"

Michael stared at both of them, n
ot wanting to answer any other questions. His will to cooperate was gone. Being locked up with criminals wasn't exactly what he was hoping for, but it was what it was. If it meant speeding up the process and getting him out of the interrogation, he'd have to let it happen.

They led him in handcuffs to the phone. The guard took his restraints off and he dialed Eva's cell phone, hoping to God she was near it. After three rings he heard her voice and his nerves eased up a bit.

"Eva, it's Michael. Listen, I need you to get me a lawyer, and do it fast."

"I'm on it, Mikey. I went and talked to your mom. I know you wanted to be the one to tell her, but she had some good advice and the name of a lawyer that has worked with your family before. I've already arranged a meeting here in about an hour with him."

Michael's shoulders slumped. His mother knew. Eva was right. He wanted to be the one to tell her, but right now wasn't the time to argue over it. What was important is that she was just the person to go to for situations like this. Sadly, he and Casey had given her that experience.

"They're gonna hold me until I go before the judge for my arraignment. If he grants me bail, Ma will know what bail bondsmen to use too. Since there haven't been any deaths, hopefully it won't be an issue." He raked his hand through his hair. It was insane that they were having this conversation. How did this shit get so out of hand?

"We'll get your lawyer up to the police station as soon as we can, Mikey. Until then, stay safe. I love you."

Michael choked on his emotions. The guard was staring him down, tapping on his watch. "I love you too, Eva. I gotta go. My time is up." With hesitation, he hung the phone up. The guard's fingers dug into his wrists as he applied the cuffs again. Giving him a shove, they moved toward the back of the jail.

He ignored the long stares from the men who were already behind bars. Snide comments, whistles, and hollers echoed around him, but he kept his head ducked and his mind on getting himself out of there. He had to stay focused and behave. One bad slip and the judge could easily decide to keep him in custody.

The guard stopped him at a cell at the very end of the row where two other guys were. Once again, he released him from the constraints and pushed him inside. The door behind him shut with a loud clank and he was left alone with two of the biggest men he had ever seen. Neither spoke at first, but seemed to be communicating with facial expression alone. Michael didn't like what he was seeing and moved to a far corner to avoid any type of eye contact. Maybe if he kept a low profile they would leave him be. Who was he kidding? The more he stayed away, the quicker they closed in on him.

"I take it this is the first time you've ever been locked up." The first man spoke, his voice gravelly. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey and he easily had fifty pounds on Michael.

Michael didn't answer and moved backward, finding himself pushed up against the wall. What was he supposed to do in this situation? The guards were all in other areas, but within earshot. Should he yell out and get their attention? He'd be a dead man before they got to him.

The man grabbed his face, pushing it toward him. "I asked you a question, choir boy."

"It sounded more like an assumption," Michael responded, knowing that was probably the worst thing he could've said.  

The man laughed and looked over at his cellmate. "You believe this shit, Davey? Our mysterious stranger has a smart ass mouth!" His lungs wheezed as he continued to laugh. Within a second, his smile dissipated into a snarl that made the hair on Michael's neck stand up. "You think you're funny?"

"No. Just stating the truth." His voice shook and he hoped the two men didn't pick up on his nervousness.

The man stood close to him, their noses practically touching. His stale breath was nauseating but Michael didn't have anywhere to move. He had to stand his ground. He couldn't let on that he was scared. How could he not be? Two gigantic, tattooed men who had probably spent more than half of their life in jail were cornering him. It would be better going out, fighting like a man.

"Let me rephrase it for you, choir boy. Is this your first time on this side of the bars?"

Michael nodded, his eyes moving to the floor. "Yes."

He gently slapped his cheek and let out another raspy laugh. "It ain't the end of the world. What sucks is what's about to happen." He motioned toward his friend, the one he referred to as Davey, who finally moved closer, cracking his knuckles as he balled his fists. "We all went through it, and you will too. Your initiation into our world."

Michael took a deep breath as he tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do. Acting on pure adrenaline, he swung, making hard contact with the man who had been speaking to him. His jaw cracked under the force of his fist, but he was too big and stood strong against him. Michael knew what was next and without putting up any fight, felt the man reciprocate the favor. A hard blow to his head made the edges of his vision grow blurry. Just as he began to fall sideways, another fist hit him, sending his body in the opposite direction.

Davey latched onto his shirt, shoving him against the wall. The back of his head collided with the brick and he tasted blood. It was strong, like he was sucking on a penny. Everything was blurry and in the midst of the beating, Michael couldn't help but wonder where the guards were. Could they not hear the commotion, or did they ignore it? Michael reached out to try to make contact again, but he wasn't as swift as he imagined in his mind.

A hard strike to his stomach made him double over and his legs trembled. Unable to keep his balance from the sudden vertigo, he lost the battle with gravity and plummeted to the cold, cement floor. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Even when the two men spoke to him, their voices sounded heavy. Michael couldn't make out who did it, but one of the men reared back and kicked him right in the chest. Curling into the fetal position, Michael let out a loud groan.

They both knelt down beside him, one of them taking a wad of his hair in their hand. "Choir boy is taking this a lot better than I thought. You enjoying this? You're staying awake a lot longer than most." He pulled hard, arching Michael's neck back.

"You got nothing to say?"

Gritting his teeth, Michael felt the thick blood on his tongue. He spit the contents of his mouth out, hitting one of them right in the face. "Fuck you." It took every ounce of energy he had left, but it sent the man backward and he released his hair.

The other criminal slammed his head into the floor, and the last thing Michael saw was both of them hovering over him again until his vision faded and then went completely black.

Chapter Fourteen

              After meeting with the lawyer, Eva wasn't sure if she felt better about the situation or worse. She knew part of his job was to not be too optimistic until he had a chance to sit with Mikey and get his side of the story. It would be bad legal practice to get her hopes up about things that might not happen, especially in a time when justice seemed to not be working for the innocent. Walking back into the jail, she wasn't sure if they would even let her back to where he was. With Mr. Clifton there, he had said the right things to grant her access, even if it were just for a short time.

             
The smell made her stomach churn. It was musty and the dim lighting lent a depressing feeling. The rainy and cold weather out on the street didn't help. Mr. Clifton led her back and one of the detectives stopped them before they turned toward the interrogation room.

             
"We had to take him to the hospital."

             
Eva's heart skipped a beat. She wanted to demand answers, but that's what Mr. Clifton was there for. That was his job and she didn't want to interfere.

             
"And why is my client at the hospital?" he asked, his defenses up.

             
"Mr. McGinnis was beat up by a couple of men we have in custody. That's all we can release at this moment. He's at Angel of Mercy in the ER if you would like to go down there and get more information." The female detective held no emotion and Eva wanted to scream in her face to have a little compassion.

             
"We'll do just that. I expect that the people involved have been held accountable for letting this happen?"

             
"We are taking care of it."

             
Mr. Clifton turned toward Eva, grabbing her hand. "I'll make sure this is handled appropriately. Let's get to the hospital and get to the bottom of everything."

             
The drive from the police department to the hospital wasn't a long one, but it felt like an eternity to Eva. The rain pattered hard against the windshield and she watched as the wipers swiped it all away. That's how she wished this would end. A simple swipe and Mikey would be safe at home with her.

             
"He's okay, Ms. Crisante. I know you don't see it the way I do, but this happening could work in our favor."