Miami's Forgotten Page 5

  So, at ten till eight, there was a knock on my front door. There I found Jake with a sack of cheeseburgers and another bag with banana fritters giving off that delicious aroma.

  “I come bearing gifts,” he announced playfully as I welcomed him inside.

  “That wasn’t necessary, but I do thank you.” I took in a prolonged inhalation of the banana goodness. They smelled wonderful. “Tell me you got those from the Barela Brothers Bakery.” Nothing else in the world smelled that terrific.

  “You know it.” Jake smiled and handed me the bag with the fritters inside. “Those are for your work tonight. I got three dozen. I hope that’s enough.”

  “Sure is, but what about everyone else?” I joked. Jake knew how much I loved those things. I could eat them by the boxful if given half the chance. “No, really, thanks, man. I appreciate it. And so will my night owls.” I thought about everyone that would come into the center that night. The overnight shift always needed snacks.

  “I brought you some cheeseburgers. I didn’t know if I was going to be cutting into your dinner time or whatever. And if nothing else, you can take them to work.” Jake gave me the other bag, and I just grinned in gratitude. He may have been the best friend I’d ever had.

  “You know, I’m the one about to ask you for a favor. I should have been doing the food as bribes thing, not you.” I took a minute to set the burgers into my take-along for my late-night lunch. “But thanks all the same.”

  “So, it is a favor you're talking about, huh?” Jake sat down on the furthest end of my couch and stretched out his legs. He knew that I was going to tell him to make himself at home, anyway. He was just getting a head start.

  “It is,” I nodded. “And it’s going to be a little strange because I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but I need to ask anyhow.” I sat down at the other end of the couch after I handed him a cup of plain, black coffee. Mine had just a bit of sugar in it. “There’s some weirder than normal stuff going on with some of my regulars down at the Edler Center. I’ve been doing my own research on it, but I’m just hitting walls. And I was hoping that you might…”

  “Have a better sledgehammer?” Jake finished for me. He nodded and took a sip from his mug. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with all the increased homeless deaths lately, would it?” Jake had been watching or reading the news then. That was good. It would mean that I had less convincing to do.

  “It does,” I confirmed. “But it's not all homeless. There’s a lot of vets and runaways getting tagged up in it, too. But that’s not getting reported as much.” I sighed because I was about to get into some heavy intel. It wasn’t the good kind, either. “What the souls on the streets tell me is that there are a lot of people that the Edler Center has helped in the past turning up dead.”

  I needed to clarify that, though. “Not like in a targeted, conspiracy way, just, a bunch of people that I know to be clean are dying of drug overdoses. And I know what you’re going to say, Jake, and a few of them, yeah, are going to relapse. But it's not just a few of them. I counted them up because I’ve been tracking them down for a few days now, and of the dead that were getting labeled as ODs, more than half I personally know from Edler.”

  Jake shifted his frame. That had gotten his attention. “That seems a bit high.” I could tell that he was working it over in his mind. “So, tell me what you think is happening. All of it, no matter how out of the ballpark you think it may sound. Let me have it.”

  And I did. “I first got worried when this guy named Pitch overdosed. He was a good guy, Jake, but he got running in the wrong crowd.” Like he’d never heard that one before. “Then his son got killed in a drive-by over seller’s turf, and that turned him around. Night and day difference. So, Pitch comes in, starts attending all the meetings he can, and even enrolls in night school so that he can get his other kids into a better part of town, better schools, you know that drill.”

  Jake nodded, understanding where I was heading.

  “But I swear to you, after his son died, he never touched the stuff again. He wouldn’t even drink a beer or smoke a cigarette. He was clean, and I would swear on my mother’s grave that he didn’t die of an OD.”

  “Okay,” Jake replied thoughtfully, “so then you think a few of these deaths are being wrongly tagged if I understand you. Why? Why would someone down at the coroner’s office falsify a bunch of deaths to make the drug problem worse than it really is? No offense, but Miami doesn’t need any help in that department.” Jake made a great point. I’d give him that.

  I had some ideas on that, too, though. “Okay, so the other night, this young guy gets dragged into Edler. All the signs look like a bad trip, but we call the Police and an ambulance because that’s the procedure.” I remembered back to the scene, recalling all that I could to paint the picture. “But before they get there, the guy wakes up, and we start to talk.”

  I continued. “He tells me right up front that he was a user. But he's been clean for nine months, maybe a year. His story is… so he had noticed this big Indian guy following him around to his street shows, because he’s a musician, you know?” I should have mentioned that first, I guess. “But this guy, the kid, is walking home at three or four in the morning, I guess, and there’s this same Indian guy waiting against a wall for him.”

  I took a sip of my coffee before finishing my story. “Now the kid, Colby Tamez, he kind of thinks this guy wants to hit him up, but before anything can happen, the big guy attacks him and pulls him into an alley. Colby told me that two other people show up. One was a woman from the Middle East. He recognized the accent because his aunt sounded like her. The other was this little guy from somewhere in Europe.” I stopped when Jake shook his head at me.

  “That’s pretty detailed information, LaShawn. How did this Colby know all of that from a few minutes’ interaction?’” I’d admit that I was suspicious at first, too. I held up my hands to explain, and Jake settled back in to hear me out.

  “Like I said,” I explained, “his aunt is from Israel, and Colby says that this woman talked and sounded just like his aunt. As for the European thing, some people have good ears for that. I got the impression that he was one of them, you know? Anyway,” I wanted to move on, “once he’s in the alley, they all surround him and knock him around a bit.”

  I took a deep breath. “Then they proceed to inject him with something. He had no idea what it was or how much. But he did describe it. He said that it made him euphoric and relaxed. There weren’t the usual side effects of hallucinations or anything like that. It was just this good high and then he kind of drifted into sleep.”

  Jake was listening, and I was relieved that I still had his attention. “So, when the EMT’s get there and do their thing, I hear one of them say, ‘Here’s another one. Looks like he got lucky, too.’”

  Jake leaned forward. “Then there’s been others? Do you have any way of knowing if they were… injected in that same way? Against their wills? And could this Colby be able to identify them? Wait, did he go to the police?” Jake was getting ahead of himself, just like I had done. It made me smile to see that we were on the same page so far.

  I shook my head. “No, he refused. He didn’t even go to the hospital. He refused care, even though I tried to talk him into it for an hour. But then I started asking around with my regulars, and some of them have also mentioned this trio. Some of them separately, too. They are practically stalking the low-end districts and guess where most of the OD deaths have been?”

  “In the low-end districts?” Jake understood. I could see it in his eyes just then. “So, what is it that you want me to do? What is this favor you want to ask?” He leaned forward even further, and he had that all-too-serious gleam in his eyes.

  “You have a team of people that look out for trouble that no one else can get close to. Don’t deny it and don’t lie about it.” I caught a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “There are some really good people out there on the streets of Miami that are getting
hurt for no reason. And no matter what, no matter their past mistakes, they deserve to not be killed over them.”

  “I can agree to that,” he nodded. “So then, you want me to track down these… that trio and find out if there is a connection between the overdose deaths and their… supposed actions? That about right?” He was thinking hard about it. It was a lot to undertake, I knew. I just had to hope that I’d made the case strong enough for him to help out.

  “I do. That’s what I’m asking of you.” I knew Jake had the best chance at figuring this all out. It was important that he saw it that way, too. “I’ll do what I can to help you out, but my hands are tied in certain areas. There are lines I can’t cross for official reasons if you catch my drift.”

  “And you know that my lines are a little blurrier and more ill-defined.” He knew what I was talking about. He nodded and drained the coffee mug that he’d been nursing during this whole conversation. “I’ll need some time to set things up, but I’ll do some digging around. Do some investigating into it.”

  “That’s all I can ask of you. Thank you, Jake.” I stood up and reached out for a handshake. He met me halfway. “And I’m serious. I’ll help you in any way that I can. I’ll keep asking questions and gathering info from the people at Edler when they come in.”

  “That will be a massive boost. They know you, and you have a good reputation within that community.” He took his empty cup over the sink and got ready to leave. “It may be a few days before I can get what I need together, okay? But I will give you a call when I’m ready, or if something else comes up to send me on a different track here.”

  “I got it. No worries.” I walked him to the door and thanked him again for his help. “Just be careful. I appreciate your willingness to help me out.”

  “No problem. I’ll see you around.” Jake walked down the hall, and I closed the door behind him. I had just enough time to get ready for work, and I did so, feeling a little less worried about going in tonight.

  5

  Jake

  I woke up with a mission in mind on a rainy morning that I was not expecting. I checked the weather report and saw that it was supposed to continue throughout the day. That was not what I wanted to hear, but I had to get on with my plans, anyway.

  After a shower, something that resembled breakfast, and a pot of coffee, I headed out. First off, I was going to be needing a better vehicle if I was staying in Miami for the foreseeable future. This Mercedes was nice, but it had too many miles on it to be a viable option for the kind of life I was going to be living here.

  I checked into a couple of dealerships but made a hard pass. I didn’t want to go through all the paperwork and sales-pitches that went along with a brand-new automobile. What I needed was something with plenty of room for passengers and gear, but that also wasn’t too flashy. At times, I would need to lie low and not draw attention to myself. With that in mind, I was going to have to do some classified shopping, and today, I was more interested in getting out of the condo and into the atmosphere of Miami.

  I had done some preliminary looking around my condo area of Biscayne Bay for a small marina for sale. There was nothing within my price range that fit my needs, though. I wasn’t looking for a huge layout, and I didn’t want the hassle of having to maintain a lot of dock space.

  What I did need was something with a covered pier, or at the very least, the ability to build onto an existing framework. I spent the better half of the morning driving around, looking at places, and then scratching them off the list. I had to be able to house Wraith without causing any avoidable questions and queries being raised. That was proving a task for me. It was getting frustrating, too.

  I stopped for lunch at a Cajun food truck and grabbed some Crawfish Pie that I could eat on the go. I needed to wrap this up and get Wraith into a more secure location. So, I took a chance and asked some locals if they knew of some place nearby or even outside the city that might serve my needs.

  After about an hour of input, I was helped to a minor looking marina with a single, large enclosed barn. That’s what they called it, a barn. It was easy to see because the previous owner had done it up in bright red and white trim. It was made mostly of sheet metal. Not bad, from what I could see of it.

  This place was really out of the way, and that already made it a bonus. It was a couple of miles away from the suburbs, and it didn’t look like this area got much traffic as it was. I drove into the empty parking lot and made my way to the two-story office building. The door was locked, though, so I started to look around for any sign of life. The docks weren’t in too bad of shape, from what I could tell. They looked to be recently weatherproofed, even.

  As I was crouching down to get a better look, a tall, tanned man came out from behind the two-story office. In his right hand, he was carrying a bucket that was sloshing all over the place. His left arm was missing from the bicep down. He had some surface skin and tissue damage along his neck and throat on the left side, as well.

  When he saw me, he stopped and put the bucket down. He had long, wavy brown hair that was incredibly sun-bleached. His right arm was seriously muscled, and he was wearing an Army tee-shirt and some cutoff jeans. He had on a cheap pair of shades that he raised onto his head as he walked forward to greet me.

  “Can I help you, sir?” He had a deep Southern accent and a baritone voice. He wiped his right hand on the shorts as he got closer. He looked to be maybe forty, tops. He took long, smooth strides and squared his shoulders as if he were stretching.

  “Hey. I was just admiring your marina.” I offered my hand to him. “My name’s Jake Header, and I’m kind of in the market for a place like this.” I hoped that wasn’t too bold-faced to say outright. But I didn’t like to make small talk if I could help it at all.

  “It’s not mine. I just watch it for the owner. Are you looking to buy or board?” He had a straight-talking approach that I was already liking. After shaking my hand, he stuck it in the shorts pocket to fish out a phone. “‘Cause let me tell you, the old man would probably sell it for a song, and you could sing it yourself.”

  “Is that so?” I looked around, liking what I saw more every minute. “What’s the catch? Not to be rude, but usually, something that sounds too good to be true is.”

  “I hear that,” he answered, as he thumb scrolled the cell to find something. “But in this case, Mr. Padilla isn’t going to be making it out of the hospital, and his kids don’t live anywhere near enough to take it over.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” It was odd to think of profiting off another family’s misfortune and tragedy. It didn’t sit well with me. Still, I wanted to hear him out.

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. The cycle of the universe, you know. Yeah, here it is.” He handed me his phone with a text message pulled up. “That’s the offer the old man is looking for. He might go lower if you can produce the cash, though. Just FYI, in case you’re interested in it.” He was so laid back that I found myself just grinning when he talked.

  I had to do a double-take at the numbers, though. If I’d been less measured of a man, I might have reacted outwardly to what I saw. But as it was, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t falling into a money pit. Having never done this kind of thing before, I wanted and needed to be careful of what I might be getting into. “That’s reasonable. What can you tell me about it?” If he was and had been the caretaker, then there was no one better for getting the information on it. “Oh, and I didn’t catch your name.”

  “It’s Lael Szabo.” He nodded when he said that. “So, we have four bays in the North dock that can handle two seventy-foot boats and two of anything smaller. All the widths measure out at twenty-five feet, and the ramp is on the East end, as you can see.” He pointed this out from where we were standing. The bays ran North to South with boat docks on each side. A long platform pier encircled the area and ran up the middle of the two separate bays. Sporadic rails were placed all along the walkway.

  “Over on the South dock, i
t’s set up slightly different, as you can see.” He gestured over to where the giant red barn was. “The South dock only holds three boats at forty feet and under, and I try to keep them under because of the barn.” The covered shed looked to take up a good sixty feet in width and seventy in length. It had piers running all along it on three sides with sealing windows and a door facing the east.

  “Then there’s the south ramp, the fueling bays, and a very, very limited maintenance dock thing that needs some work.” Lael smiled to himself about that. “The old man and I were working on that when he had his heart attack. I know what he wanted to do with it, but it was his project. I figured that if someone else was going to be taking over, then I’d leave it be.”

  I looked out at the completely empty docks, trying to imagine the uses and how I could maneuver Wraith in and out safely. “I understand. So, if you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been working for this Mr. Padilla?” Lael sounded knowledgeable enough about the site. I’d be stupid not to take advantage of what he knew.

  “Since he bought it about seven years ago. It was supposed to be his retirement thing, but his health got pretty bad in the last few years. Like I said, his kids aren’t interested in keeping it, and so he figures if he just sells it now, it can pay for his care, and then they can avoid having to figure out what to do with it after he’s gone.” The way in which he spoke about it, this had clearly been thought out.

  “Is there anything I should know about it? You know, any problems to be aware of?” I didn’t want to sound harsh, but people would always put the sunny-side out during a sale or business venture. There was always something that sellers didn’t like to mention if they could help it. I was hoping that this guy would let me know ahead of time if he could.