Anarchy (24 page)

She stormed into the hotel and he blew hard,
‘
Damn
, she’s really pissed
!
’

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

Six
hours
of questioning, writing statements
then
getting
transferred
from the custody of the State Police to local law enforcement made Alfonzo pissed. Martin did legal magic and the couple were finally released with a DAT for reckless driving, an A misdemeanor if convicted. He wasn’t sweating it, what got him angry was the assemblage outside.

The media hover
ed
around
the perimeters of the precinct like excited bees.
When he got the phone call, he took his wife’s hand, “Our ride is here.”

Martin
preceded
the couple, blocking the camera crew as they made their way to their car. Once, Alfonzo and his wife were secured inside the
ir car,
he faced the reporters.

“Mister Scheppe, is it true your client was a victim of a foiled murder attempt by local
gang
members
?”
                        “The illustrious NYPD and PAPD are investigating the incident.”

He started walking dow
n the sidewalk and reporters followed, microphones in hand and determination in their eyes.

“Is there a link between the shootings of four
men who were known
members of
Rebeldes
Rojos
?”

“That’s in the hand of the police.”

Martin neared his car.

“Is this mob connected?” Another reporter shouted.

Martin climbed in his car and rolled down the window, “My client is a hard-working businessman
and comments like that can ruin his reputation
, why don’t you guys let the police handle this and quit with the speculation!”

“
Hey
hija
,
how’s
daddy’s
baby
girl?” Alfonzo whispered close to the small face
sticking
out from the covers.

She pushed her head in the pillow, “Sleepy.”

He smiled, then rubbed her back and she instantly slept. He returned
to the living room where
Emilio sat watching the late
night
news recap on the melee on the
RFK -
Triboro
ugh
Bridge
, which
ended in
the death of
two gang members.

Alfonzo flopped in the leather recliner, “
Anita has the guest room prepared if you want to get some shut-eye.”

Emilio nodded, rising to his feet, “Yeah, sounds good.”

Alfonzo’s eyes absorbed the younger man’s somber countenance.
“Everything alright with you?”

Emilio’s mouth tugged at the corner, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“How’s my cousin?”

“She’s fine.”

“I think I better give her a call
and
make sure.”

Emilio’s face didn’t give a clue to the thoughts racing in his head as Alfonzo
called Jessica. He remained nonchalant and continued out the room.

“
H
i,
prima
,
qué
tal
?”

“
H
ola
,
Alfonzo.”

“You good?”

“Yes,
porqué
?”

“Just checking, got drama here and want to make sure it doesn’t filter to
mi
familia
.”

“You always have drama.”

“Humph, did Emilio take good care of you?”

He listened for a change in
tone,
a hint of what he suspected was behind Emilio’s forlorn expression. –But Jessica was a Diaz, through and through. “I don’t need a babysitter but yeah he did.”

“Okay, if
you need anything, give me a call.”

He heard her girlfriends in the background telling her to hurry. “Okay, bye Alfonzo.”

“Bye.”

His eyes noticed a call coming through
; it was
Kiki.
‘
How the hell did she get my number?
’

“Alfonzo,
Danté’s
been shot.”

The question of how she got the number answered and now irrelevant in light of the news. He bolted upright, “Where is he?”

“I’m at
Lincoln now.” She was crying, “They gave me his stuff
.
I found your number in his cell.”

“How is he
doing
?”

She tried to break the news softly, “Um…he didn’t make it. They pronounced him a few minutes ago.”

“I’ll be right there!”

He hurried upstairs, peeked in on his sleeping wife then knocked on the door of the guest room. The door opened, Emilio was in his shorts about to climb in bed. “I’
m going out, something’s come up.
”

“I’ll drive.”

“No, you stay here
and keep an eye on my family.”

Emilio nodded, “Okay.”

Alfonzo rushed from the house, got inside the car and sped uptown. Lincoln Hospital loomed ahead as he traveled down one hundred and forty-ninth
streets
to Morris Avenue. He parke
d in
a
n
area reserved for emergencies and hurried inside the ER.

He spoke with the guard and was shown into a private
waiting room
. Kiki
sat
there, folded in half on one of the
chairs
crying.
The lump in his throat forced him to swallow. He slid down in an adjoining seat, leaning his head back against the wall, hurt and angered he’d lost his former friend.

H
is voice
was
saturated
with emotion
, “I’m sorry
.
”

She sniffled, “It’s crazy, he went to the store then I heard these gunshots and when I looked out the window I saw him lying on the ground.”

Alfonzo exhaled in anger, “
Damn.”

“By the time I
made it
downstairs he…he…he,” she stammered, “
looked
bad. They shot him up and they didn’t rob him or nothing…they just executed him and for what?”

She became upset and he wrapped his arms around her. Guilt crep
t
up his spine. This was payback, thug style.

Her head popped up, “How do I tell his mom?”

“I don’t know…” he looked around the depressing sterile room, “come on I’ll take you home.”

She collected the plastic hospital bag filled with
Danté’s
belongings
and walked beside him to the car clutching it to her chest like a precious baby.

He drove in silence, mentally exhausted by the day’s turn of events. Juan’s homeboys were not fucking around. He needed to get his family back
to Puerto Rico, there he had a gun permit and armed security. The low-life imitation thugs weren’t going to follow
. T
heir little turf consisted of uptown’s east side. Many of them were small time hustlers and petty thieves who without guns were a bunch of punk ass bitches!

The area
near Kiki’s building was cordoned off by yellow police tape. An investigative team canvassed the block, questioning residents. Alfonzo grimaced, the likelihood of anyone cooperating, despite Detective
Winoski’s
argument to the contrary was zero percent.

They entered the building and he
escorted her to
the
apartment door, waited for her to unlock it then said good-night.

Kiki held open the door, “Please come in, I really don’t want to be by myself right now.”

His gut
told him t
o leave –but guilt
held him still.
Danté
was one of his best friends growing-up and if he hadn’t been seen with Alfonzo, he’d still be alive. An i
nternal
conflict
raged, then
he stepped
across the threshold,
in
side
the apartment; one similar to others he’d frequented before. He
looked around
uncomfortably
and
shoved his hands in his pocket,
“
Have you called
Danté’s
mom?”

She
locked the door,
sat the bag in a chair
,
kicked off her shoes
then went to the sofa, pulling her knees to her chest. “God, I’m
in shock. I don’t know if I can talk to them!
”

“You have to do it
. Y
ou don’t want the police breaking the news.”

She sighed, “Oh, geez…I know.”

He crossed the distance and sat beside her, taking out his cell, “What’s the number?”

She put her hand atop his, “No…no…I’ll do it.” Bravely she used her phone and broke the tragic news.

The wailing screams brought reminders of his wife’s cries the night she’d found her mother murdered. He slid back on the sofa, staring at the door, seeing himself walking through it.