No Good Deed... Part I

[Robbie C.]

Just some quick commentary... Life is very busy right now so I don't know how often I'll update this one. It's set about two years after the Task Force disbanded, so you're seeing the team getting on with their lives in many ways. But their old lives still come back to touch them in ways they might not expect. Since the majority of the characters are now out of law enforcement officially (except for maybe reserve positions), the action's different. It's actually hard to write some Vice characters without that kind of action, since in so many ways it defines what we see of them and what we expect from them. Anyhow...here we go.

 

“You can open your eyes now.”

Sonny Crockett felt like a fool standing in the marina parking lot with his own hand over his eyes, but Jenny Walker insisted. She wasn’t tall enough to do it herself, and she wanted to surprise him. And if it made her happy, he’d cover his eyes like some damned fool. “Now?”

Her giggle melted his heart like it always did. “That’s what I said, silly.”

The sun stabbed his eyes for a moment, and he shifted his hand like a car’s visor to block the glare. Then he saw it. “How in the hell…”

“I still know people.” She giggled again. “Nothing’s hard when you know people.”

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and that reminded him he needed to breathe. He’d turned in the white Testarosa when he dropped his papers and left Metro-Dade, but hadn’t gotten around to getting another car. They spent most of their time on Tranquility in any case, tying up with the other boats at the dock at Caitlin’s House when duty called or at his spot in the marina when it didn’t. But this…

“Go ahead, silly. It won’t bite. I might, but it won’t.”

The long black hood glittered in the midday sun like obsidian, and he covered the distance in four long strides. The Daytona looked exactly like the one he’d lost to a Stinger missile along the coast all those years ago. Technically it wasn’t his car, but he’d felt the loss just the same. And now… “It’s beautiful, darlin’. Nowhere near as beautiful as you, mind, but still…” He opened the door and let the leather smell from the interior wash over him. “How the hell did you…”

“I told you. I know people.” She handed him the keys. “Now let’s go for a drive.”

The car roared to life when he turned the key, and it didn’t take long for him to go through the remembered motions of putting the top down. Jenny settled into the seat beside him, her blue eyes bright and her thick blonde hair fanned out across the brown leather upholstery. He looked over, seeing her body through the thin white t-shirt. “Show me what she can do and I’ll show you what I can do.” She smiled, then grabbed for her seat belt as he slammed his foot to the floor and left a trail of burning rubber running the length of the marina lot.

He didn’t ease up until they were on the expressway heading north for clear roads and swamp-tainted breezes. He could feel his grin stretching the muscles of his face, but didn’t care if he looked like a fool. Being behind the wheel of a Daytona took him back years, all the way back to his first months with Vice. Back when he was still a cop, still married, and still full of himself. He hadn’t been ready for the car then. Or the life that came with it.

He felt Jenny’s hand on his thigh though his jeans. “I’ll call Martin and Trudy and see if they want to meet us for ribs.” She turned and flashed a quick smile at Mustang loaded with what looked like sorority girls. “We’re heading that way and I’d like to see Pete again.”

“Yeah.” Sonny had to shout over the wind whipping around the car. He’d been holding steady at ninety ever since they’d hit clear roads. “We are kinda going his way, aren’t we?” But it was, he admitted, a damned good idea.

So much had changed since he’d turned in his badge almost two years ago now. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jenny talking on the car phone, and reminded himself once again how lucky he was to be with her. Caitlin’s House was still growing, a slow yet steady process she and Angie, Caitlin’s old personal assistant, watched over like two hawks. He did what he could, mostly by bringing people in and making sure nothing distracted those two from doing their jobs. But he could see the House making a difference in the lives of the girls who passed through its doors, and he had to admit it made him feel damned good.

Marshal’s Ribs was off the beaten track, but word of its barbecue spread like wildfire and it was always hard to find a place to park that wasn’t down by the long grass and the smell of the swamps. Jenny had hung up the phone before he turned off the main road, and was just knotting the straps of a blue bikini top behind her long neck when Sonny looked over. “I don’t want Pete to stroke out,” she said with a smile. “Trudy and Martin should be here soon. She’s driving.”

Grinning, Sonny pulled into a reserved spot near the door and swept his thick dirty blonde hair away from his eyes. There was more gray there now than he liked to admit, but he was too damned stubborn to resort to hair dye. “Nice of Pete to put a spot here for us.”

“He should. We bought the building.”

“Yeah, but don’t give him a hard time about that. He’s…”

“A proud man. I know.” She smiled and kissed him on the cheek before bouncing out of the Daytona. “And you know I’d never say a word. He’s a good man.”

Sonny shut off the car and sat for a moment, letting his body sink back into the familiar feel of the Ferrari convertible. But then the smell of smoke and cooking pork and beef filled his nose and he remembered he hadn’t eaten anything since dawn that morning. “Let’s get in there and see about a table. I don’t want Marty and Trudy to have to stand in the back.”

 

In many ways Martin Castillo was a creature of habit. Two years away from the Job and he still wore the same simple black suit coat, white shirt, and narrow black leather tie that had guided him through decades in both espionage and law enforcement. He could feel Trudy smiling behind him as he aligned the tie in the mirror. “I know, my love. Some things don’t change.”

Her arm slipped around him and he felt her lips on the back of his neck. “And I don’t want them to. Me? I can let it go a bit.” She stepped around him, showing off her new jeans and a simple loose top. “Don’t want to ruin one of the good dresses with sauce.”

He sat in the passenger seat, admiring Trudy’s effortless driving as she guided the Challenger through the mid-afternoon traffic. They could take mostly backroads from his beachside house to Marshal’s Ribs, which gave Trudy an excuse to let the big V-8 stretch. When they pulled into the lot, Trudy pointed and smiled. “Look! Jenny actually found a Daytona!”

“If anyone could…” Castillo felt his eyes warm behind his sunglasses. Jenny had been an art smuggler before settling down with Sonny, and he was sure her connections still extended far beyond a rare car. Much like his own. “It will be good to see them again.”

“Yeah.” Trudy parked next to the black Ferrari in another spot marked Reserved and shut off the big muscle car. “It’s been what? Three weeks since that last benefit show?”

“Yes.” He thought back to the show, a combination of her music and artwork done by local artists auctioned off to benefit Caitlin’s House. They’d raised almost fifty thousand dollars that day. He still had to stop some days and wonder at how far Sonny had come from being the cowboy cop he’d first met beside a canal in Miami ten years ago.

Inside it was dark and smokey, the babble of the crowd almost drowning out the battered old juke box belting out what sounded like ZZ Topp in the corner. The waitress at the door gave them a quick look and waved toward the back. “Sonny and Jenny are back there. He said you’d be joining them.”

Moving around full tables toward the back of the house, Castillo thought again about old habits. The heavy weight of his Model 29 Smith & Wesson hung under his left arm; one old habit he couldn’t shake. Not yet. And he knew Trudy wore a long, loose shirt to conceal the Safari Arms .45 on her hip. Maybe one day…but not this day.

Sonny saw them coming and waved, but Jenny jumped up from the table and headed through the crowd until she could sweep Trudy up in a hug. “Trudy! Martin! It’s been too long!”

Trudy gave Castillo a ‘what can you do’ smile and hugged Jenny back. “Yeah, girlfriend. It has. But with you and Sonny riding the waves all the time how’re we supposed to get in touch?”

“I forgot about that.” She turned back toward the table. “Sonny! We have to come in at least twice a week so we can see these two! And Caitlin and Will!”

“You got it, babe.” Castillo saw the quick flash of pain on Sonny’s face at the mention of his murdered wife and unborn son, but it was quickly pushed aside by the familiar grin. Both men knew Jenny meant nothing but good with the remark. Then Sonny was on his feet. “Marty. It has been too damned long. I shoulda been at that benefit with Jenny, but Rico and I had some new staff to check.”

“Duty. I understand all too well.” Castillo took the offered hand, favoring one of his few friends with a narrow smile. “Have you seen Pete yet?”

“Naw, but he knows we’re here. I think he might be whipping up some of those burnt ends or something.” Sonny chuckled and sat back down. “I heard some very marshal-like cussing coming from the kitchen not too long back.”

Jenny sat down as soon as Sonny did. “I like to see Pete doing well. He loves this, and it’s good to see other people love it, too.”

Castillo nodded. He’d gone in with them when they invested in Pete’s restaurant. He didn’t have the resources they did, but he wanted to help secure the future of the man who’d done so much to make sure his last law enforcement job actually counted for something. “He’s done well.”

Trudy waved over one of the waitresses. “Can we get a pitcher of Coors over here? Actually better make it two.” Then she turned back to Sonny. “How are Rico and Mindy?”

“Busy. Rico’s got security for the House humming, and Mindy’s keeping busy there, too. Background checks and all that kinda thing.” He let his arm fall around Jenny’s shoulders and she snuggled up against him. “When she’s not helping Gina with outreach stuff.”

Castillo let their words flow around and over him, picking out bits from time to time. Another part of him watched the room. Old habits again. But the third part was just enjoying being with friends again. Letting their talk and happiness fill him. When the beer arrived he looked over and saw Jenny watching him. She smiled and winked before pouring herself a beer.

Jenny. Castillo still wasn’t sure what force had swept her into Sonny’s life, but he knew it had saved both of them. She reminded him more of the hill people he’d worked with in Laos, even though she had the looks and speech of a California surfer girl. Like the hill people she was in touch with things the rest of them could not see, hear things they didn’t. He’d learned in those dark rainforests and high mountains not to question what the Hmong and Montagnards felt, only to heed their advice when things got hot. Jenny had that same air.

Pete came out of the back with a big smile on his face. Castillo rose to shake his hand, still not able to shake the retired lawman’s resemblance to George Jefferson. “I thought I heard trouble comin’ into my place,” he said in his best Cracker lawman voice. “An’ it’s good to see my ears ain’t failin’ me. Looks like retirement’s treatin’ you good, Marty.”

“Not as good as you, Pete.” Castillo’s smile was wide and genuine.

Jenny’s voice rose above the rest. “Sit and have a beer, Pete. You need one.”

“Now my pappy raised me never to argue with a pretty lady. Especially when she’s right.” Pete flopped in the empty chair with a grin and watched Jenny pouring him a beer. “Gotta say there’s a sight more work in big barbecue than I thought. But it’s good work, an’ folks go away full at the end of it.”

Again Castillo let the words flow. At any given time at least half the people in the place were connected to law enforcement in some way. Anyone who caused trouble in here would soon find themselves facing far more trouble than they could handle. He never let his guard fully down, but he could at least relax here.

Pete was talking again, lapsing out of his Cracker sheriff act as things got serious. “How’s that place of yours doing, Sonny?”

“Good.” Sonny grinned. “Hell, more than good really. Jenny here’s talking about a big fundraising drive to add a new wing or outbuildings or something. So we can take in more kids.”

Trudy leaned across the table. “It’s going that well?”

“Well, we’re on our like tenth group of girls. An addition would let us add a space for boys, too. Which was always part of the plan.” Sonny grinned and took a drink of beer. “But in the first stages we just weren’t set up to have both.”

“Plus there’s more girls in the system.” Jenny’s eyes were bright, and Castillo could feel her energy from across the table. “The boys…they just push them into prison. The girls usually end up on a different path and we can catch them.”

The arrival of a platter of burnt ends and thick sliced bread brought an end to the talking, and Castillo joined the others in eating. Pete had managed to merge styles from Kansas City, Saint Louis, and the Carolinas in his place, converting even Castillo to barbecue. Any thought of serious conversation disappeared with the arrival of ribs and pulled pork, along with generous helpings of cheese grits and mashed potatoes. Looking over at Trudy, her lips decorated with a smear of thick Kansas City-style sauce, Castillo knew he wouldn’t have to worry about making dinner tonight.

Pete was on this third toothpick before the talk circled back to their former lives. “Any of you hear from those two reprobates Mather an’ Blair? I told them to stay in touch, but I was never sure if either of ‘em knew how to write, let alone work a phone.”

Castillo nodded. “Yes. They’re both back with the sheriff’s department in Montana. They’re going to be in town in a couple of weeks. There’s a conference, and Dave is going to use the opportunity to take Debbie back to Butte with him.”

“About damned time she made an honest man out of him!” Pete laughed. “I am kinda hurt he didn’t call me, though.”

Castillo thought back to the call he’d gotten late last night. “He said he did. But you cussed him out for forgetting the damned time difference.”

“Shit. So that’s who that was callin’ me at one this morning.” Pete rubbed his forehead. “Now I feel like an asshole. I’ll call him soon’s we close up an’ let him know.” He chuckled. “So who’s still single from that crew of yours?”

“Franz and Mather.” Castillo smiled his thin smile. “Although I hear Lester’s dating someone in Miami-Dade and Randy likely has a girl out in Montana. You know him.”

“Yeah. Never use one word when none will do.” Pete turned to Sonny. “Wasn’t that bear of a woman all hot for him?”

Sonny laughed. “Angie? Yeah. She still might be for all I know. You ask her anything like that and she’s likely to take a swing at you, though.”

The day was fading into night when they finally left Marshal’s Ribs, Pete still protesting when Sonny paid the bill. Outside the heat was leaving the air, and Castillo took a deep breath to clear the smoke from his lungs. They were far enough out you could still hear swamp noises over the roar of machines, and he felt his body starting to settle into old rhythms brought on by the shifting sounds.

Next to him Trudy sighed. “If you would have shown me this six years ago and said this was where we’d be I would have slapped you.”

“Yes, my love.” He never would have believed it, either. How much they’d all changed, and not just in material circumstances. But still, usually late at night when Trudy’s breathing was even and his only companions were the night noises outside the house, he found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was how he’d been trained.

 

For some reason Gordon Wiggins had assumed his first breaths of air as a free man would be sweeter than they were. Of course, he’d done his time in what was essentially a summer camp for misbehaving stock brokers, so it wasn’t quite the same as walking out of Radford. Still, maybe in honor of the late and unlamented Fremont, he’d cherished the drama of the moment until there was no need.

There was no one to meet him, but he’d expected that. Record executives weren’t exactly in high demand, especially ones who’d rolled on people to cut their time in half. Still, he’d been judicious. The attempt on the Davies’ woman’s life had been dumped at the charred feet of what remained of Fremont, along with most of the payola heat. Poor old Paul did so like to talk. He sounded almost presidential on those tapes when the government lawyer played he thought as he waited for his cab outside the gates of the minimum security prison he’d called home for the last few years. Still, Tommy Lowe had been right about one thing: get so much as a parking ticket and no one returns your calls.

The thought of Caitlin Davies sent a quick stab of anger through his big body. The silly little bitch had ruined everything. That she’d gotten her due later did little to satisfy him, especially since he was cut off from the royalty stream that resulted. He’d been able to follow the whole sad saga thanks to the great cable reception and multiple TVs in what his fellow borders liked to call Club Fed, all the way down to her husband starting some kind of facility for wayward girls in their old home. Using MY money. Or what should have been my money. We made that little tramp.

The cab reminded him of one of the squad cars they’d crammed him into after the explosion, but he pushed the memory down as he climbed in and gave the driver the address of a hotel near the airport. He’d take a day or so to get his affairs in order and then see about heading for Miami. The Feds might have thought they’d grabbed all his resources, but Gordon Wiggins was a careful man by nature. They only found what he wanted them to find.

 

Ricardo Tubbs stared at the computer screen, waiting for the information he’d requested to load. He chuckled. So much of what he did now was waiting for things to load.

Still, he couldn’t complain. Caitlin’s House needed security. No question. And it needed more than Angie scaring hell out of the girls if they got out of line, something she was damned good at. No, there had to be someone to screen the girls and the people who worked there. Watching for any slip, anyone who was trying to get in for the wrong reasons.

Sonny had hired him the same day he’d left Metro-Dade, giving him total control over the security set-up. “Run it how you like,” he said with that damned cowboy grin of his. “Bring in whoever you need. I’ve got Stan and Lester on retainer, but hire ‘em full time if you want. We need these girls to be safe. Do whatever it takes.”

They were still small then, three girls in-house and staff still settling in. The first thing he’d done was run background checks on all the rent-a-cops then fired over half of them.He started rebuilding security, hiring as many former Marshals as he could find along with a select crop of ex-Metro-Dade. Then he had Stan and Lester put together the electronic side of the house. “Sonny gave me the keys to the kingdom,” he’d told them when he brought them in. “Build it solid and plan for upgrades. He set no limit.”

After the two got done repainting his office white, they’d gotten to work with a will. Now they had cameras just about everywhere, motion sensors on the perimeter, stuff to sweep for bugs…you name it, Stan and Lester had put it in. At first Rico thought they might have gone overboard, but the first time they picked up a reporter trying to sneak onto the grounds and then found a tap on the line no one could identify he decided they’d done exactly what was needed.

The screen flickered, then steadied as information loaded. Rubbing his eyes, Rico compared what was on the application to what loaded. “These chumps never learn,” he muttered, checking the ‘reject’ box and dropping the application into his out tray. “You can’t hide a felony.”

“Did we get another one?”

“Yeah. Chump had a felony assault conviction and he wants to work security here.” Rico looked up and smiled at Mindy as she walked into the office. Mindy Tubbs now. Damn, that takes some getting used to. But in a good way. He gave her a quick, admiring look and then went all business again. “That makes three this week, though. Kinda makes me wonder.”

“I wonder how many of them get hired by other rehab centers.” She came around the desk and laid her hand on his shoulder, and he let her fragrance wash over him. “You know we check better than anyone else.”

“Hell, I check harder than…what do they call it now….Miami-Dade.” Rico chuckled, pulling out another form and clearing the search pane. “If this is gonna work, we gotta do it right. And that means checking all the boxes, not just the easy ones.”

“You know it’s after five, right?”

“No, I didn’t. Let me run this last one and we’ll get out of here.” Rico typed in the name and hit enter, watching the hourglass on the screen do its thing. “And this one’s clean. I can finish him in the morning. Let me hand off to Tiny and we’ll head home.”

Tiny, the exact opposite of his nickname, sat behind the security desk by the main entry. The big glass doors were automatically locked now, entry only possible with a badge and proper authentication by the head of watch. Tiny grinned as Rico came out of the back office. “Callin’ it a day, boss?”

“Yeah.” Rico nodded. Tiny had been a member of one of the Marshal’s Office high-risk warrant teams, until he’d ended up on the wrong end of a shotgun welded by a late and unlamented crack dealer. He’d lost his left leg below the knee and was looking at a medical retirement and no real future when Rico hired him to run the night shift. He still had rehab to get through, but Tiny had been there for them during the Task Force days and he wanted to return the favor.

“Good deal. We got them all settled down for the night.” He looked down at the log. “All the visitors are clear, and I think I might run an extra foot patrol down by that stretch of fence where the reporter tried to get through last year. Those dudes have short memories.”

“Good thinking.” He felt Mindy shift behind him. “See you in the morning, Tiny.”

Casa Cooper’s rooftop patio gave them a ringside seat to the neon-glazed sprawl of Miami, and Rico often headed out there with a drink after work. It was Mindy’s night to cook, so he stood alone in the cooling air watching the ice cubes in his glass melt into the scotch. Thinking.

Sometimes when he closed his eyes it felt like it was just yesterday he’d dropped his retirement papers on the desk of the bewildered deputy chief who’d just had to absorb an identical packet from Sonny, Castillo, Trudy, Gina, and Stan. And some nights when it was overcast he even felt like he was still in New York until the dank heat gave it all away. Mindy had changed his life for the better in more ways than he could count, but some nights he liked to reach back and touch his past. Remembering where he came from to understand where he was.

In some ways it had been hard walking away. He wasn’t an action junkie like Sonny, but he did miss the challenge of the hunt. Spotting the bad guys, luring them out in the open, and then trapping the bastards. And being able to change his name as often as he changed his shirt. Rico Cooper one minute, Teddy Prentiss the next. And waiting in the wings for the bad things Marcus Jefferson. Taking a sip of his scotch, he raised his glass in a silent toast. Sometimes he missed all of them.

“How many of those applicants do we need to hire?”

He hadn’t heard Mindy come out. “No more than two. One to replace that chump on the night shift who mouthed off to Tiny and the other to replace Hermanez.”

“Hermanez quit?”

“Yeah. He said something about his wife having to move closer to her mother. The mother’s sick and the other kids can’t help. He didn’t want to go, and he’s gonna be hard to replace. But he’ll get the full payout. Gotta look after family.”

She moved to stand beside him, a wine glass in her hand. “It’s that bottle Trudy gave us. Don’t judge; it’s actually kinda good.”

“You know me, pretty lady. Wine, whiskey, or water. It’s all the same to me. So long as you’re here.”

She smiled and touched his face. “You always find ways of reminding me why I asked you to marry me.”

Rico chuckled. “I bet you thought right until the last minute we were going to show up in drag.”

“I did! But I was ready for it.” She looked over at the small table and chairs placed to catch the shade thrown by potted trees on the roof. “And it was right over there.”

“Yeah. We didn’t have family in, so it just made sense to do it here. Where it all started.”

A steady beeping made her slip out of his arms. “And now I gotta go rescue dinner. Did you want to eat out here?”

“Naw. Let’s go in and put on some Bird. Pretend we’re anyplace we want to be.”