Krewe Daddy (25 page)

"Did they accomplish their goal?"

He shook his head. "No, but they came very close." Drew mopped his forehead with a handkerchief.

Concern registered in Sheila's eyes. "Do you need to take a break, Agent Rothem?"

Hand shaking, Drew took a sip of water. "I'd like to get this over with, if you don't mind."

"Continue whenever you're ready."

"I don't know what else I can tell you. They took turns beating me with the bat.

My right forearm snapped like a twig. That hurt more than the skull fracture. Then one of them started laughing. I couldn't tell what was so funny; everything was kind of woozy in my mind. The next thing I knew, they were hauling me up and dumping me on a little hill. That hurt like hell because my arm was fractured. I remember screaming my head off. They laughed."

"Take your time. Do you know why they moved you?"

Drew closed his eyes, the terrifying memory coming back to him like a daytime nightmare.

"I soon realized they'd put me on a fire ant hill." His heart raced, his mouth felt like he'd been sucking on steel wool. He croaked the words out, needing to get this ordeal behind him. "The ants were everywhere—in my mouth, my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut to keep them out. I could feel them crawling in my skull. Red-hot bites everywhere. I started screaming like I was losing my mind. That really pissed off one of the gang members."

He took a ragged breath. "That same one started screaming, 'Shut up! Shut up, motherfucker!' But I couldn't. Every nerve in my body was jumping like electricity was pumping through me. I don't think setting me on fire at that moment could have hurt more."

Tears welled in Sheila's eyes. She'd heard this testimony before, and it still seemed to hit her hard. "That's when they left you."

"No. The one who was screaming at me hollered at another guy to give him the bat." Feeling like someone had just knocked the wind out of him, Drew stopped cold.

Luis looked alarmed. He tapped his chest again, silently urging Drew to remember their united strength. His love for him.

Drew steadied his nerves. "He laughed, and told the crazy one to make me shut up."

"What did he do?"

"He fractured my left ankle in three places with the bat. I don't know who was screaming louder, him or me." On the verge of tears, Drew inhaled a few times. "I think I passed out. My whole body was one mass of pain. I sort of remember the sound of car tires kicking up the gravel and thought, well, geez, at least I can die in peace. I didn't have the energy or desire to call for help. I had no idea where I was, or what good it would do anyway."

"You wanted to die."

"I thought I would. I knew I was badly hurt, and thought the ants were going to polish me off, one miserable bite at a time."

"Do you think Mr. Sandalio ever hit you?"

"I can't be sure. The way he kept himself hidden in the car until I was on the ground, and how he ordered the others around, gave me the impression he wasn't going to get his hands dirty. But I don't know if I was conscious through all of it. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital about a week later."

The District Attorney listed the extent of Drew's injuries. "You were also soaked in urine."

The statement made Drew shudder. "I know, but don't ask me who pissed on me, because I don't remember a thing about it. I think I blocked that out."

"Tell the grand jury how you're doing now, and about your prognosis."

"I've had a number of surgeries on my arm and ankle. They are healing. I have memory issues, mostly in short-term recall, which may clear up. And I have seizures and tremors. Medication is controlling the seizures better, and it'll take time to see if they ever stop. Who knows how long?"

She spoke in a soft tone. "Do you intend to go back to work again, Agent Rothem?"

His throat felt like cotton balls filled it. "I'd like to, but I don't know if I ever will be able to. I can't live alone yet, either. If it weren't for my friend, Luis, taking me in, I'd be in a memory care center somewhere, stuffed away until I recovered.
If
I ever recover."

At the end of his testimony, Drew gripped the witness box and pulled himself to his feet. He was spent and weak. Perspiration soaked his underarms.

Luis stood and asked the District Attorney, "May I help him?"

"Certainly."

Luis rushed to Drew. He put his arm around Drew for support. "Let's go home."

Drew nodded and concentrated on telling his feet to move.

Luis took Drew into an ancillary room, then helped him sit down. "I think we should take you out in a wheelchair. You're too exhausted to make it under your own steam."

Drew couldn't argue. "How'd I do?"

"You kicked ass. I'm so proud of you."

Drew could barely muster a smile. "Thank you for being here. I hope he, and the rest of those sons of bitches, burn in hell. State prison hell."

* * * * *

The following afternoon, Drew sat in his recliner, working on one of his memory games. Truth be told, his mind wasn't really on the task. He was exhausted from his daylong grand jury testimony and anxious over what the verdicts might be. He'd checked his cell phone a zillion times to be sure he hadn't missed a call from the district attorney. He hadn't.

Yesterday's late afternoon session hadn't been as difficult for Drew as the morning had been. Nevertheless, he'd wanted to wipe the smug look off Tommy Loushone's pockmarked face. He looked like a jackass, with his patchwork crop of hair sticking out helter-skelter from his head, instead of hiding under his do-rag, making him look tough and angry.

Do-rag
. Just thinking of the word conjured up the horrible taste of having that vile thing stuck in his mouth.

Like they say on the street, "haters gonna hate." Loushone was a hater, and by the time Drew finished his testimony, Loushone's disregard for human life was palpable in the courtroom. Glimpsing the jury members' disgusted expressions, Drew couldn't fathom this guy getting away.

The sound of a key in the apartment door lock made Drew turn off his electronic tablet.
That must be Luis.

He'd barely gotten out of the chair when Luis opened the door. His expression told a story of frustration and weariness.

"Hi. How'd it go?"

Luis put his keys on the bar, then reached for a crystal tumbler and the bottle of Grey Goose from the cabinet.

"That good, huh?"

Ice cubes clinked into his glass. Luis topped them with vodka.

Drew waited, knowing Luis' behavior didn't signal anything good.

After he took a few gulps, Luis added more vodka. He looked at Drew over the top of his glass. "I have to go back to work."

"I'm not that surprised, but you seem to be."

Luis polished off his drink and slammed the glass down on the counter. "Not entirely, but I'm pissed. I won't be able to come with you to Minnesota for the wedding."

Drew's heart sank. "Really? Why?"

"It's too close to Mardi Gras. The Flamin' Dames contacted our CEO and insisted that I ride on their float. It's a great design, and an up-and-coming group. I've got to be there." Luis explained about the other obligations he would have over the coming weeks. He'd been working remotely most of the time they'd been living together, and going into the office half-days since the new year started. "I can't tell the company to shove it; I'll be fired."

Anguish was in Luis' eyes, his voice. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say."

Drew's temper rose. "I suppose this is Ronnie's metaphoric way of sticking you with his dick. He lost a playmate, and now he's playing the winning hand. This is what you get for sleeping with clients." He crossed his arms on his chest. "It never works out.

Ever."

"Let's not be too sanctimonious. You were sleeping with Kyle."

"And look how that worked out. My point is illustrated again. Except you were fucking the whole merry band of dames. One of them wasn't enough for you, and the company doesn't want to—"

"That's enough, Drew." Luis' eyes sparked with fury. "We agreed that our pasts were off limits."

"Except now yours came into the future and is affecting us, isn't it?"

"I get that you might be anxious about traveling alone, but we'll work it out. And your seizures aren't as frequent. You're not as fragile as you were even two weeks ago."

"So you want to shove me aside now, and pick up your life where you left off, is that it?"

"Don't be childish. I put my life on hold for months to help take care of you."

Drew swiped his hands together as though brushing something off his palms.

"Done and dusted, right? Fine. I suppose it's time that I regained more of my independence anyway."

Luis frowned. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Drew, but this conversation is over. I’m not going to listen to you fling wild accusations at me, or encourage you to throw a pity party for yourself. Saying I'm happy about missing the wedding, or any of these other things you're suggesting, is ludicrous."

He took his drink, and walked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

The reverberations from the slamming door mixed with the ringing of Drew's cell phone. Sheila Parson's picture appeared on the face. Drew's stomach dropped like a brick of gold in a free-fall.

Drew answered the call. "Hello, Sheila. I’m hoping you have good news for me."

"I do." Excitement bubbled in her voice. "Both those beasts were indicted. They're going to trial, Drew. There's no way they'll get off without jail time. You've done it. At least there's some recompense for everything you've endured."

Stunned by the news, Drew sat down on a kitchen chair. "Say it again. I'm not sure I heard you."

"Henrique Sandalio and Tommy Loushone are going to trial, and I don't see any way they'll avoid a jail sentence. My office will not accept anything less than three years for Sandalio, and five for Loushone."

"I'd hoped it would be fifty apiece." Awareness dawned on him. "Can I leave the apartment without a police escort now?"

"I don't know if that would be a good idea, but now that we have three of these goons behind bars, plus the Sandalios, I don't see why you need to stay inside the way you have."

His mind spun.
Freedom
. Drew felt like he was unshackled from his past. Another component of his life had been handed back to him. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done. Do you have any idea when the trials will start?"

"No. Sandalio will bring in the big guns to fight with everything he's got. His son went to jail, but Henrique certainly doesn't want to take a turn. Loushone will use a public defender. I'm sure he'll be cycled through the system before Sandalio ever sets foot in the courtroom. We'll have to see how it goes. In the meantime, take care of yourself, and I'll be calling you when we're getting organized for the trials."

They finished their conversation, then Drew hung up. He exhaled, still not grasping the full impact of what the District Attorney had told him. He glanced toward the bathroom door. He'd been an ass to Luis—again.

Maybe we can go out to celebrate.

Drew knocked softly on the door. "Luis?" He heard the sound of water swishing in the bathtub.

"What?"

"May I come in?"

"I'm taking a bath, if you don't mind."

Drew had been in the bathroom many times while Luis had a good, long soak.

Sometimes, he'd joined him in the tub, too.
He's really pissed.
"Sheila called. Good news.

Both those assholes were indicted."

More swishing water sounds. Drew wondered if Luis was getting out of the tub.

He waited a little longer.

"Luis, did you hear what I said? Sandalio and Loushone are going to trial. And I can finally move around the Earth again, instead of being treated like a criminal myself." He paused, expecting Luis to open the door. But he didn't, and that took some of the celebratory wind out of Drew's sails.

"Would you like to go out to dinner to celebrate?"

"I think I'd like to finish my bath."

His soft but dismissive tone gave Drew no choice but to bide his time. He went into the living room, knowing an excellent apology was required. An idea came to him.

Drew went to the table, and scribbled a note for Luis. Then, he took his electronic tablet and opened the apartment door.

The security guard looked surprised to see him.

"I'd like to go out for a while. Would you please drive me?"

"That's part of my job. Sure, let's go."

Luis got out of the bathtub and dried off with a fluffy towel. He was still steamed about what Drew had said about Ronnie, but there seemed no point in having a pissing match to determine who could be the bigger jerk. And Drew's news was exactly what they'd been hoping for. A night out would do both of them some good.

He opened the bathroom door to silence. "Drew?"

Luis walked into the living room. Empty.
Maybe he's napping.
But Drew wasn't in the bedroom, or anywhere else in the apartment.

What the fuck?

He found Drew's note on the table.

Running an errand. Be back soon.

Luis crumpled the paper and tossed it in the direction of the trash, not caring if he hit the bin. The idea of Drew being out alone made Luis's blood boil. In his estimation, Drew was nowhere near ready for outings.

The man is sorely testing my patience today.

He dialed Drew's cell phone. It went straight to voicemail. Luis wasn't even sure if Drew had the damn thing on him. He rolled his eyes and left a message.

"Will you please call me? I'm not crazy about you being out alone."

When an hour passed with no word from Drew, Luis' last nerve snapped. He went to his closet and shoved aside his expensive suits hanging there. He fingered his leather garments at the end rack, deciding which hot number suited his fiery mood.

He pulled on his black leather pants with the chains hanging from the hips. The soft leather felt like butter against his legs. A white, super-tight T-shirt hugged his chest like a second skin. He slid into a black leather vest. Silver studs outlined the pocket trim. He sat on the edge of the bed to put on his square-toed, black boots. Tucking his pants cuffs inside, he then laced the heavy boots. A black leather hat completed his kick-ass look. Luis put his wallet in his vest pocket and grabbed his keys.