Insane City (41 page)

the big semicircular front driveway of Bayside Marketplace. Behind her, she heard more horns, then the

unmistakable
bang
-
bang-bang
of vehicles colliding in chain reaction. Meghan screeched the cruiser to a

stop and looked back. The Escalade was still right behind her. Beyond it, the intersection of Biscayne and

Third was a chaotic scene of automotive carnage. Meghan stomped on the accelerator again, her plan now

being to go out the other end of the Bayside driveway and escape northbound on Biscayne, but flashing

lights in that direction told her she’d be driving right into another roadblock.

“Shitshit
shit
,” she said and opened the cruiser door. From Biscayne Boulevard came the sounds of

shouting and sirens. Many sirens.

She ran back to the Escalade. Seth had the window open.

“This is bad,” he said. “This is really, really bad.”

“I
know
that,” said Meghan. “You think I don’t know that? We need to get out of here
right now
.”

She opened the rear door, gestured to Laurette. “Come on!”

“Come on
where
?” said Seth.

“In there,” said Meghan, pointing toward the Bayside complex. “I’m thinking we go out the other

side, maybe get a taxi or something.”

Cyndi and Seth got out of the Escalade, then helped Laurette and her children get out. Cyndi was

closing the back door when she noticed something on the seat.

“Seth,” she said, reaching for it.

“What?”

Cyndi handed him the red velvet ring box.

“Ohmigod,” he said, taking it. “I almost forgot about this.”

“Will you guys hurry
up
?” said Meghan. She herded the group onto a sidewalk leading into the

complex. Seth and Cyndi got on either side of Laurette, helping her along. Meghan, behind them, glanced

back toward Biscayne Boulevard. The sirens were louder, but at the moment she saw no police officers.

She did, however, see Trevor.

He had sat up and was pressing his face against the rear window of the police cruiser. He was

looking at her.

“Shit,”
she said. “You guys go ahead. Hurry!”

As Seth and Cyndi helped Laurette and her children along the sidewalk, Meghan ran back to the

cruiser and opened the rear door. Trevor had bled all over the backseat. She could see the oozing wound

on his right thigh, surrounded by dark matted fur.

“You poor thing,” said Meghan, softly. “I am so sorry about this. But they’ll fix you up. You’ll be

OK, OK?”

Trevor just looked at her and blinked. She leaned forward quickly and kissed him on his left cheek

pad, then turned and started running down the sidewalk after the others. She came to a clot of cruisers,

recognizable by their blinding white sneakers, stoplight red sunburns and spherical shapes. As she

sprinted past, one of them screamed.

Meghan looked back, stopped and for what felt like the five hundredth time in the past half hour said,

“Oh shit.”

Trevor, on one leg and two arms, was following her.

61

“Where the fuck are they?” said Castronovo.

He had pulled the Navigator to the curb on the southbound side of Biscayne Boulevard, which was

now blocked in both directions by police cruisers and the wreckage of what looked like at least a dozen

crashed civilian vehicles. A crowd was gathering, consisting of onlookers and police swarming from

their cruisers.

“There,” said Brewer, pointing to the left. Castronovo looked and saw Seth and Cyndi, supporting

the Haitian woman, walking quickly into the Bayside complex. Trotting up behind them was Meghan. Just

behind her, limping but covering ground, was Trevor.

In two seconds Castronovo and Brewer were out of the car, trotting toward Bayside.

“OK,” said Brewer. “First priority, we get the Haitians out of here. That’s what Mike told us to do.

And we stay away from the cops.”

“What about Meghan and Seth?” said Castronovo.

“Like I said before, they’re on their own.”

“And you still don’t want to call Mike.”

“Do
you
want to try to explain this to Mike?” said Brewer.

“No,” said Castronovo.

“So we get the Haitians and get the fuck out of here,” said Brewer as they reached the Bayside

walkway. “And we definitely kill the monkey.”

62

Even by Miami standards, this was a weird group making its way through the Bayside crowd.

In front were Seth and Cyndi, holding tight to Laurette and her baby, with Stephane right behind. A few

steps back were Meghan and Trevor, who was dripping blood but gamely keeping up, his eyes focused

always on Meghan. The cruisers stopped and stared, not sure whether they were seeing some kind of

performance or actual reality. They all had their phones out, taking video. Whatever this was, it was

definitely YouTube quality.

They had reached a crowded plaza. Directly ahead was a marina, and on either side were buildings

full of stores and restaurants.

“Where’s the taxis?” said Seth.

Cyndi looked around. “I think that way,” she said, pointing along the water to the left. “Maybe we

could get one up on the port road.”

They angled left across the plaza. With each step the crowd around them grew thicker; they were

drawing a lot of attention. A man asked Meghan if he could take a picture with her monkey. Meghan said

it was an orangutan, and no. From the distance behind them came the sound of sirens, more and more. Seth

glanced back across the plaza, looking for pursuing police.

Instead he saw Castronovo and Brewer. They had just reached the edge of the plaza and were

scanning the crowd, Brewer’s face blood-smeared. Seth quickly turned away.

“We have a problem,” he said.

“What?” said Meghan.

“Your dad’s thugs are back there.”

“Shit,” said Meghan.

“Keep moving,” said Seth. “They haven’t seen us yet.”

“I see them,” said Castronovo, pointing. “Over by the water. Big crowd around them.”

“Out of the way, asshole,” said Brewer, shoving a cruise passenger aside.

Seth looked back. “They saw us,” he said. “They’re coming. Excuse me! Let us through, please!” He

and Cyndi tried to push forward, but the crowd was becoming impenetrable, penning them to the railing

that separated the plaza from the walkway along the marina’s edge.

“Cyndi!” called a raspy voice.

Cyndi looked over the railing. “Duane!” she called back.

He was standing, with Blossom draped over his shoulders, at his usual post at the end of the
Barco

Loco
gangplank. “What’re you doing here?” he called.

“We’re trying to get out of this crowd!”

“Lemme give you a hand.” Duane trotted up some steps through an opening in the railing, then

shouldered his way through the crowd, which parted readily for the large bald man with the large white

snake. Reaching Cyndi and the others, he said, “What’s going . . . Whoa! Is that
Trevor
? How in the fuck

did—”

“It’s really complicated,” said Cyndi.

Seth was looking over the crowd. Castronovo and Brewer were bulling their way through the cruise

passengers, getting steadily closer. “Listen,” he said, “we need to get out of here
now.
”

“You can get on that boat,” said Duane, pointing to the
Barco Loco
. “Lay low in there.”

Seth, Meghan and Cyndi looked at each other, then around at the still-growing crowd. There was no

way they were going to be able to escape through that mob.

“OK,” said Seth.

“This way,” said Duane. He led them along the railing, Cyndi and Seth doing their best to shield

Laurette and her children from the crowd. He descended the stairs to the
Barco Loco
.

“Bobby!” shouted Duane. “We got guests!”

Bobby Stern, a tall, thin man who cultivated a black piratical beard, appeared on the pirate ship

deck, holding a glass of tequila. His eyes swept the boarding party, stopping on Trevor.

“Is that a gorilla?” he said.

“No,” said Duane. “Orangutan.”

“Ah,” said Stern. He raised his glass. “Welcome aboard.”

Seth put his arm around Laurette and started walking her toward the gangplank. She balked, staring at

the boat. Stephane clung to her, looking terrified.

“They’re afraid of the boat,” said Seth.

“It’s OK,” Cyndi said to Laurette. Carefully, she took the baby from Laurette’s arms.

“Yeah,” said Seth, “it’s OK.” He took Laurette’s hand in his, looked in her eyes. “I know you had a

bad experience, but you have to trust us, all right?”

Laurette clearly didn’t understand a word he was saying. But this time when he started toward the

gangplank, she and Stephane went with him. Cyndi followed, carrying the baby. Behind them, Meghan

was trying to coax the weakening Trevor onto the gangplank.

“What happened to his leg?” said Duane.

“He got shot,” said Meghan.

Duane was incensed. “Who the fuck would do that?”

“Two assholes.”

From the plaza came the sound of commotion. Duane and Meghan looked up and saw Castronovo,

then Brewer, barge through the crowd and reach the railing.

“
Those
two assholes,” said Meghan.

Brewer spotted them, pointed. He and Castronovo started shoving people aside, heading for the

stairs.

“Come
on
,” said Meghan, pulling Trevor by the hand onto the gangplank. “Can we start the boat? We

need to get away from here
right now
.”

Duane looked up at Bobby Stern, still holding his glass of tequila, observing the drama from the

bridge of the
Barco Loco
.

“Bobby,” called Duane.

“Yo.”