AGAINST THE WIND (Book Two of The Miami Crime Trilogy) by Don Donovan
Authors: Don Donovan
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with it? The drugs might be inside the
briefcase, not the suitcase! He broke a sweat, and thoughts came to him.
Maybe I
should just go to the cops and turn the thing over to them, tell them what
happened, how I was just doing a favor for a guy and didn't know there were
drugs involved. They might believe me.
He could hear himself think these stupid thoughts
and put them out of his mind right away. No, no cops, no ratting anybody out.
He's got his two grand ¾ wait a minute. I never even counted it!
Never even looked at it! Shit, how big a fucking idiot am I!
The envelope lay beside him on the seat of his
idling car. His hand wrapped around it. It still felt like money. He glanced
inside and saw a bunch of hundred-dollar bills. He took them out and counted,
twenty in all.
Well, at
least they didn't fuck me out of my money.
On his way home, he was tempted to stop off at
Toys R Us and spend some of this money on presents for Desi Junior and Sofía,
but decided against it. Christmas would get here soon enough, and besides, he'd
had a long day and wanted to get home to Marianela and the kids.
Marianela! Should he tell her about his chance
meeting with Delgado and the resulting money bonanza? Better not. She'd go into
a big long lecture about the evils of drogas and narcotraficantes and swivel her
hips while sliding her head from side to side the way only Cuban women can do
while wagging an index finger at him the whole time. No, best to keep quiet on
this one. When he buys the presents, he'll just tell her he'd been putting some
money aside all year.
It was a little before eight when he got home.
Lights were on in all the second-floor apartments, his own above the mattress
store, the rest above other lowly businesses that lined the street. Desi knew
people were settling in to watch Monday Night Football. As he guided his car
into an available space a couple of doors down, he noticed a parked car across
the street and someone stepping out of it. A blue Mercedes. Delgado.
Desi got out of his own car and froze. Delgado
came up to him quickly.
"How did it go?" he said.
"Fine," Desi said. "Everything went
fine."
"You brought the package to the Holiday
Inn?"
"Yes. Everything went fine."
"He gave you … a briefcase?"
Desi finally moved. "Oh … yes. It's in the
trunk." And he stepped around Delgado to the rear of the car. He opened
the trunk and handed him the briefcase. Delgado spun the combination lock to
the proper numbers and the case snapped open. He peeked inside and smiled.
"Did you get your money?" he asked.
"I did," Desi said with a smile.
" Buen
trabajo, Desi. Muy buen trabajo. "
"You didn't tell me about the
briefcase," Desi said.
"No, I didn't. But you handled it, didn't
you? You did the right thing, bringing it back here. Like I said, mi amigo , good job." He patted Desi
on the shoulder, a sincere pat. Desi liked it.
"I'll see you at Pepe's," Desi said.
Delgado smiled. "Oh, yes. That is for
sure." He reached his arms around Desi and Desi returned the hug. He felt
Delgado's gratitude and an enthusiasm he didn't expect. Then their eyes met and
Desi felt a door opening somewhere deep in this embrace.
16
Desi Junior
North Miami, Florida
Friday, April 6, 2012
10:25 PM
D ESI RAMOS
JUNIOR DROVE DOWN 128TH STREET with his lights off. He turned his
Escalade around and parked it in a lot next to a small vacant building bearing
a "FOR RENT" sign over its doorway across the street from the lumber
yard. He pointed the vehicle outward so that he faced the yard's rear area.
Darkness enveloped the silent street. He sat there
for a moment, checking it all out. Other than routine traffic on I-95, there
was no activity either on the street or in front of him in the big space behind
the lumber yard. It worried him to have to park across the street from the
fence, because it meant more exposure getting back to his car after the action.
It would be much easier to park alongside the fence itself, but he
briefcase, not the suitcase! He broke a sweat, and thoughts came to him.
Maybe I
should just go to the cops and turn the thing over to them, tell them what
happened, how I was just doing a favor for a guy and didn't know there were
drugs involved. They might believe me.
He could hear himself think these stupid thoughts
and put them out of his mind right away. No, no cops, no ratting anybody out.
He's got his two grand ¾ wait a minute. I never even counted it!
Never even looked at it! Shit, how big a fucking idiot am I!
The envelope lay beside him on the seat of his
idling car. His hand wrapped around it. It still felt like money. He glanced
inside and saw a bunch of hundred-dollar bills. He took them out and counted,
twenty in all.
Well, at
least they didn't fuck me out of my money.
On his way home, he was tempted to stop off at
Toys R Us and spend some of this money on presents for Desi Junior and Sofía,
but decided against it. Christmas would get here soon enough, and besides, he'd
had a long day and wanted to get home to Marianela and the kids.
Marianela! Should he tell her about his chance
meeting with Delgado and the resulting money bonanza? Better not. She'd go into
a big long lecture about the evils of drogas and narcotraficantes and swivel her
hips while sliding her head from side to side the way only Cuban women can do
while wagging an index finger at him the whole time. No, best to keep quiet on
this one. When he buys the presents, he'll just tell her he'd been putting some
money aside all year.
It was a little before eight when he got home.
Lights were on in all the second-floor apartments, his own above the mattress
store, the rest above other lowly businesses that lined the street. Desi knew
people were settling in to watch Monday Night Football. As he guided his car
into an available space a couple of doors down, he noticed a parked car across
the street and someone stepping out of it. A blue Mercedes. Delgado.
Desi got out of his own car and froze. Delgado
came up to him quickly.
"How did it go?" he said.
"Fine," Desi said. "Everything went
fine."
"You brought the package to the Holiday
Inn?"
"Yes. Everything went fine."
"He gave you … a briefcase?"
Desi finally moved. "Oh … yes. It's in the
trunk." And he stepped around Delgado to the rear of the car. He opened
the trunk and handed him the briefcase. Delgado spun the combination lock to
the proper numbers and the case snapped open. He peeked inside and smiled.
"Did you get your money?" he asked.
"I did," Desi said with a smile.
" Buen
trabajo, Desi. Muy buen trabajo. "
"You didn't tell me about the
briefcase," Desi said.
"No, I didn't. But you handled it, didn't
you? You did the right thing, bringing it back here. Like I said, mi amigo , good job." He patted Desi
on the shoulder, a sincere pat. Desi liked it.
"I'll see you at Pepe's," Desi said.
Delgado smiled. "Oh, yes. That is for
sure." He reached his arms around Desi and Desi returned the hug. He felt
Delgado's gratitude and an enthusiasm he didn't expect. Then their eyes met and
Desi felt a door opening somewhere deep in this embrace.
16
Desi Junior
North Miami, Florida
Friday, April 6, 2012
10:25 PM
D ESI RAMOS
JUNIOR DROVE DOWN 128TH STREET with his lights off. He turned his
Escalade around and parked it in a lot next to a small vacant building bearing
a "FOR RENT" sign over its doorway across the street from the lumber
yard. He pointed the vehicle outward so that he faced the yard's rear area.
Darkness enveloped the silent street. He sat there
for a moment, checking it all out. Other than routine traffic on I-95, there
was no activity either on the street or in front of him in the big space behind
the lumber yard. It worried him to have to park across the street from the
fence, because it meant more exposure getting back to his car after the action.
It would be much easier to park alongside the fence itself, but he
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