No Good Deed...Part XXX (conclusion)

[Robbie C.]

They were on their way home from the doctor’s office when Mindy turned to him. “We should think about names.”

It was a discussion he’d been hoping to avoid. Not because he didn’t want to hear her ideas, but because any time it came up he could only think of his dead son. “Yeah, I guess we should.”

“If it’s a girl I’d like to name her Stephanie. That was my grandmother’s name, and she…she meant a lot to me growing up. I’d stay with her sometimes when my da got crazy.”

“It’s a pretty name. And if she’s anything like her mother it’ll be perfect for her.” He kept looking straight ahead, focusing on the road and not the thoughts careening around in his head.

“And if it’s a boy…”

“I…I don’t know.” He eased on the brakes as the light ahead turned yellow. “Ok, that’s not quite true. I do kinda know.”

“So long as it’s not Elvis.”

He laughed. “No way I’d cut in on Stan’s turf! Naw, it wasn’t anything that fancy. I was thinking about my brother. Raphael. He’s why I became a cop, and the only reason I was a half-decent one.”

“I like that.” She smiled. “Raphael if it’s a boy and Stephanie if it’s a girl. See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“You keep leaning forward like that somethin’ else is gonna be hard.”

She giggled and unbuttoned three buttons on her silk blouse. “How’s that instead?”

“Lady, you’d better hope we don’t hit too many more red lights on the way home. We might not make it out of the parking garage.”

“Who says we will? Remember those pregnancy hormones?” She ran her tongue over her lower lip. “We hit another red light we won’t make it out of the garage.”

 

Sonny Crockett was barely back at his desk when Lester briefed him on what had happened with Ramona. “One thing bothers me,” he said when Lester finished. “Why the hell would Jangles tell her all this?”

“That one’s got me too, boss. Although the reports seem to indicate Jangles isn’t really a bad guy. Just not very smart and caught up with the wrong role model.”

“Yeah. Not the first one like that we’ve seen.” Sonny thought back to all the young, dumb kids he’d busted with Vice. Including a few who didn’t survive their own bad choices. “Nowhere near the first. Still…”

“You think it’s a trap?”

“Maybe, but if it’s on the up and up we can’t ignore it. You said Jangles was gonna text again tomorrow?”

“That’s what she thought. She’s pretty convinced he wants to help her. There’s some kinda trust there, boss. Trudy and Gina are reaching out to old CIs, but there might not be much.”

“Maybe he kept the gang off her. I just hope her trust isn’t misplaced.” He sighed. “Look, there’s not much we can do until she hears from Jangles again. You and Stan are doing great work. Keep at it, and let me know if that phone comes on again.”

After Lester left he turned so he could see the sprawling green lawn through the wide office window. Arguing with the contractors had left him drained, but also with an understanding of how much more needed to be done here. And how little time he actually had to chase this new thing. Wiggins, the big threat, was gone now. Whatever Rendozo and Jangles were up to had to take second place now. Even if he didn’t want it to.

If he didn’t keep the pressure on, the contracts would fall even more behind. That would throw off his entire plan for expanding the facility and improving treatment options. Things that had been promised to some of the outside donors. It wasn’t something he could leave to Gary, or dump on Angie and Jenny.

Almost on cue the office door opened. He hadn’t really seen Angie since the whole dealer story broke. She looked tired, but the old spark was starting to return to her eyes. “Blondie, Angie needs a word.”

“What’s up? You kick another construction worker’s ass?”

“No.” She sat down without waiting for him to wave her to a chair. “But Angie’s worried. Them sweaty mens is hanging ‘round like they own the place an’ not workin’ like they should.”

“We’re on that, Angie. Just got done shouting at their bosses about that very damned thing. Now what’s really on your mind?”

She looked at him for a moment, then dropped the act. “I wanted to make sure we’re good, Sonny. I know that story wasn’t good, and I made more work for you.”

“We already talked about this, Angie. We’re good. Hell, your ass would be out the door if we weren’t.”

“You think you can get this big ass out the door you got another thing comin’, Blondie. Angie kick your scrawny ass any day of the week.”

“And twice on Sunday. Yeah, yeah. I heard that line before.” He grinned. “But I could use your help. You wanna keep an eye on that Ramona?”

“Little bit who thinks she barrio tough? Yeah, Angie can watch her. Maybe keep some of the other girls from kicking her skinny backside.”

“She’s a lead right now, but I think she’s got a good chance to straighten herself out. She’s not in too deep.”

Angie got up with a grin. “Don’t Blondie worry. Angie watch her good.” Straightening her too-tight leopard print dress she tottered out the door on heels that were, as usual, about two inches too high for her.

Shaking his head, he turned back to the window. Dealing with Angie was always a kind of out-of-body experience. He kept her around because she was damned good at her job, and also because of how close she’d been with Caitlin. But even after all these years she was still something of a mystery to him. Something he couldn’t really afford any more. Once the Ramona thing was over, he’d have Rico do a full check on Angie. Just to make sure nothing else was hiding in her shadows.

“Did Angie find you?”

He smiled at the sound of Jenny’s voice. “Yeah, darlin’. She did. Sent her off to keep an eye on Ramona.”

“She’s still worried…”

“Yeah. I told her she didn’t need to be. She’s as much a part of this place as that damned lawn or the walls of the house.”

“Good.” She came over and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Do you think they’re done?”

“I don’t know. Lester just asked me the same thing. I don’t know what the hell this Rendozo’s up to, and I can’t spend too much time on it now. We’re starting to fall behind on the renovations, and that throws everything else off for months.” He paused, feeling her fingers grip. “Do you think they’re done?”

“I don’t know. Something…something just doesn’t feel right. And you’re sure you don’t know this guy?”

“Rendozo? Not really. I put him in touch with Rico back when we were working a case like I said, but I never saw him after that. He seems to think he knows me…or knows Burnett in any case. But I don’t remember squat about the guy. Hell, he could’ve walked right up to me and if I hadn’t seen that picture from Robbie’s I wouldn’t have had the first damned idea who he was.”

“And the other girl?”

“I don’t know that, either. Maybe she’s in trouble. Or maybe this Jangles punk is trying to put the scare in Ramona.” He sighed. “Either way I gotta focus on the House now. Jimmy and Wiggins are both dead, and with Haskell gone, too, that court case is gonna end itself in a few days. Miami-Dade’s still looking for Rendozo for the double homicide, anyhow. At least that’s the last I heard. Guy’ll be too busy running to make trouble. Last thing he wants is to go back upstate.”

She nodded without speaking. She’s not sure, and I don’t know if I am, either. Damn it. But I can’t spend much more time on this. No matter how much I want to.

“I know. We have to focus on the House. I see the financials, Sonny. You’re right. Maybe more right than you know. But I can’t…”

“Yeah. I can’t shake the feeling either, darlin’.” Reaching up, he gave her hand a squeeze. “Tell you what. It’s after five. Why don’t we call it a day and head back to Tranquility. We can sail back up to the marina or just stay here. And I’ve been thinking. Maybe we can take Stan and Gina and Rico and Mindy for a cruise soon. We’ve got the berths, and it might be the last chance they get for something like that before the kids come.”

“You think they’d want to?”

“Hell, I don’t know. But we can ask. I know Stan gets a bit green around the gills on boats, and Rico ain’t exactly the seafaring sort. But Gina sails some, and I think Mindy does, too. Or did back home.” He shrugged, realizing how dumb his idea sounded once he put it into words. “It was just an idea I had.”

“I like it. Really, Sonny, I do. Let me look her over and see how things look. I know we have the two aft berths, but I don’t know how comfortable they’d be for them.”

“Yeah. I wondered about that, too. It’d be nice if we can make it work, though. Give them some time out away from everything.”

“What about Martin and Trudy?”

“We’ll take them later. But, yeah, I’d like that, too. Now that we actually can make time for stuff like that.”

 

Hector Rendozo was still thinking about the girl the next morning when he sidled out of his hotel and headed for the café. They’d had a few drinks after her shift, and he’d played it super cool. Didn’t even try to pick her up. Not yet, anyhow. But he’d stop by the club after the meet today. And maybe the next day. Once they’d finished the job he’d take her home and seal the damned deal.

He’d settled into what was now almost their usual table and ordered coffee by the time the other two arrived. Jangles, as usual, was grinning from ear to ear. “She bought it, man,” he said as soon as they sat down. “The whole thing. If text could cry I’d have to toss this phone and start over.”

“Good to hear.” He turned to Ramon. “You ready to work?”

“Always, Hector. But I been hearing noise. Miami-Dade’s sniffing around for us. Remember Miguel? He said some of them plainclothes Homicide dudes been in his place asking questions.”

“Let ‘em. We finish with Tubbs and then we go to ground. Take some time to relax, like around Lauderdale or someplace. Get outa Miami for a few weeks.” He grinned. “Those damned Columbians’ll start killin’ each other again and they’ll forget about two lawyers.”

“Takes money to hide.”

“We got that covered. We’ll do the split right after Tubbs is gone. Like I already said, man. You gotta have some faith.”

“You think that newspaper guy…”

“Naw, Jangles. He’s probably shittin’ his nasty blue suit, waitin’ to see if Burnett’s gonna sue him too. Or just take him out.”

Ramon nodded. “That’d be classic Burnett. Let the heat die down a bit and then put two in his head.” He raised his hand like a gun, his long index finger the barrel. “Bang, bang. Nice and neat.”

“You want me to text Ramona again?”

Hector grinned. Jangles was like that. Simple and to the point. “Yeah, man. Same time you did yesterday.” He went over what he wanted Jangles to say, making him repeat it twice. “You get her that, and we’ll be in position.”

“You think Tubbs’ll bite?”

Hector shook his head. “Ramon, man. Show me a cop that don’t have a soft spot for a girl in trouble and I’ll show you a gay cop. They all think they’re some kinda knight on a white horse or some shit. When money don’t work, a girl does.”

Jangles chuckled. “An’ the best part is the girl’s real. She ain’t in no trouble, but Ramona ain’t gonna know that. An’ she’s got no way to check in there. All she knows is what we tell her.”

“It’s sneaky as hell, Hector. No doubt. If it works.”

“It’ll work, man.” Hector grinned, feeling the weight of his Beretta in his waistband. “You two just be sure you got your pistolas an’ are ready to move when I call. Once she gets that I figure we gotta be ready to move fast.”

They talked for a few more minutes, finishing their coffee and eyeing each other in the way of men who don’t trust but don’t have a choice. Hector tried to keep his face blank the entire time, knowing Ramon in particular would be looking for clues or weakness. Might have to turn him into gator chow right after Tubbs he thought, watching the skinny hipster eat the last of his toast. We’ll see. At least Jangles ain’t gonna cause trouble.

Finally he pushed away from the table, tossing a twenty near his empty cup. “Got things to do,” he announced. “Be ready for my call. And Jangles, you send that message on time.”

“No problem, boss. Consider it done.”

He nodded and headed out into the growing heat. It wasn’t much of a walk to the strip club, and he found himself looking forward to watching his new discovery dance. Her eyes lit up as soon as she saw him, and he settled in next to the rail with a narrow smile and a five dollar bill. Two dances and she’d be on the floor with the drink tray. And by tomorrow night she’d be in his bed. Life was good.

 

Stanley Switek sat in the back of the Roach Coach daydreaming. Part of his mind was focused on the static in his headphones and the bouncing needles in front of him, while the other part remained fixated on what Gina had done the night before. Tubbs wasn’t kidding about those pregnancy hormones. Damn, was he not kidding!

So far it had been a slow afternoon; Lester back at the House and him hiding in the scant shade of the lower level of a parking garage. Still, he had it better than Randy. Jangles didn’t live in the best neighborhood, and keeping a loose eye on the place was a job Stan didn’t want to think about.

The car phone jarred him out of his electronics-induced trance. “Stan? It’s Lester.”

“No shit. Who else has this number?”

“Hell, anyone? Gina? I don’t know. Anyhow, another message just came through. He’s wanting Tubbs to go to some old swamp tour dock. Says the girl’s hiding there from this Francisco character.”

“Did he say Tubbs?”

There was a pause. “She just handed me the phone. It says ‘security guy,’ but that has to mean Tubbs. Rico’s taking it that way, anyhow.”

Stan was about to tell Lester he was imagining things when one of the panels lit up like a Christmas tree. “Hang on, man. Got a hit on Jangles’ phone.” He hit the switch to start the tape and jump his headphones to the line.

It wasn’t much. Just a voice he knew was Hector. “It’s on. Move.” And then nothing.

“Shit. It’s on.” He switched back to the car phone. “Les? He’s on the move. I’ll turn Randy loose. I’ll need the exact location of the old tour dock, too.” He barely heard Lester’s acknowledgement before he killed the call and entered another number. One he wasn’t eager to call. “Yeah, captain? They’re moving.” He looked at his own cell phone and read off the directions Lester had just texted. “The message to the girl told Tubbs to meet there at seven tonight. Jangles is already on the move.”

The voice on the other end was the very whisper of death. “Call Mather. Give him the location. He’ll know what to do.”

“You got it, cap’n. Calling him now.” Stan hung up and hit the button activating Randy’s tactical radio. “I wouldn’t want to be in those assholes’ blue suede shoes,” he muttered as he waited for Randy to answer the call.

 

Martin Castillo hung up the phone, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond the glass door to the patio. This is it. The last stream of tracers. And he knew what needed to be done.

He changed in the shed, hanging the black suit carefully on a small clothes rack and changing into faded jungle fatigue trousers and the cut-down jacket with a black t-shirt under it. The CAR-15 still smelled of gun oil, and he tested the weight and balance before pulling the loading lever and feeding a live round into the chamber. He dropped extra magazines into the baggy pockets of the jacket, two per side. More than enough for what he anticipated, but extra just in case things turned.

From old habit he shut off the single overhead bulb, plunging the shed into darkness. As his eyes adjusted he could see light leaking in thin lines around the doorframe and making the painted windows glow with a dull black light. The air was still, thick. Not unlike the air in the sandbagged team rooms he’d grown familiar with years gone now. It was a thickness he associated with death.

He felt rather than heard a vehicle approach, and the knock on the door was familiar. Stepping out, his eyes narrowed against the sun, he saw Randy Mather dressed in similar fatigues. “Brought a ride,” he said simply, waving toward a battered Jeep that had seen better years. “Lifted her a couple days back and kept her stashed for this.”

Castillo nodded. “You have your rifle?”

“Right in back.” He nodded toward the carbine. “Looks like you’re ready to rock an’ roll.”

“It’s been a few years.”

Randy’s grin wasn’t pleasant to see. “You don’t forget that stuff. We’d better move. It’s a drive an’ they got a bit of a start on us.”

They drove in silence for a time before Randy pressed two fingers to his earpiece. “That was Stan. Tubbs took the bait. He’s moving now.”

“Have Switek and Franz remain in place. I don’t want anything to come back on them.”

“They know, Marty. An’ they ain’t the kind to move on their own. Sonny, on the other hand…”

“I’m counting on Tubbs keeping him in the dark. He does that sometimes. Especially when it’s something personal.”

Randy nodded, the wind around the Jeep’s windshield whipping his hair. “That Hector called this one right sure as hell. Ain’t no way Rico can ignore a girl in danger. He ain’t built like that.”

“None of us are.”

“True. But only those two would run off alone thinkin’ they can take on the world.”

Castillo nodded, his mind playing through possibilities. “What do you know about swamp tours?”

“Traps for dumb-ass tourists who want to see gators. Usually some doofus an’ his cousin with an airboat an’ too much Bud for their own good. If this is one of those docks it’s gonna be like the Delta. Open, flat, muddy, but with gators instead of VC.” He chuckled. “More your country than mine. I was always I Corps. But it’s good, open rifle country.”

“Good.” Castillo felt the wind whipping through his own hair, bringing back memories of helicopter rides into the middle of nowhere. “You’re sure about this? You can just drop me off…”

“Not a chance. Rico’s a friend. I ain’t got too many of those. An’ like you said, he can’t do anything without screwing up the life he’s built. Me? They ain’t even gonna know I was there.”

“I can ship the rifle back for you. I have contacts…”

“Got that covered. You just worry about how we’re gonna play this.”

Nodding, Castillo turned his thoughts inward. It was hard not to think of the Laotian mountains now. Or the hordes of NVA moving down the Ho Chi Minh trail. He’d run more missions in Laos than he could easily count. Or wanted to count. The CAR on his lap felt like an old friend now, its cool metal comforting under his fingers. Without the badge he felt himself reverting to an earlier time. Maybe a more simple time. Find the enemy. Kill them. He could almost feel Ti Ti in the back seat of the jeep, watching him with that odd grin of his.

“I’m gonna stash the Jeep here. We can hike the rest of the way in. Ain’t more’n a klick by my map.”

“Good.” Castillo felt the Jeep lurch as it left the road, then jolt along as Randy guided it into a stand of thick greenery before killing the engine.

“They ain’t gonna see it here unless they’re lookin’. And I doubt they’ll be lookin’.”

Castillo nodded, watching as Randy pulled a rifle case out of the back and opened it. “That’s not your usual rifle.”

“Nope. Ruger Mini-14. The redneck’s M-16. Shot it in yesterday an’ she’s good to about 400 yards. 600 in a pinch. She’s clean, too. Numbers burned off. But if someone digs hard it goes right back to that redneck arms dealer we took out a few years back.”

Castillo nodded again, not wanting to know where Randy had stashed the weapon, or why. He understood trade secrets, having more than a few himself. “We’ll stay clear of the road. Watch out for snakes and alligators, although we shouldn’t have to worry about either until we get closer to the water.”

 

Ricardo Tubbs stopped thinking about the time he saw that Carmelita was supposed to meet this Francisco at some old dock at seven. Ramona’s face was streaked with tears as she held the phone out to him, not able to speak through her fear. The rational side of his mind said it was a trap. Screamed it was a trap. But his heart said he couldn’t take the chance it wasn’t. He didn’t need another innocent life on his conscience.

He thought for two seconds about talking to Sonny, but then dismissed the idea. Sonny would go in too fast, too hot. Maybe getting the girl killed if he spooked the gang leader. And if it was a trap Sonny would scare them off and the whole mess would start over. No matter which way he looked at it, he had to go alone.

Smiling, he handed the phone back to the girl. “Don’t worry, Ramona. Rico’s gonna get her for you. I just gotta find this dock they’re talking about. You go ahead an’ let him know I’m on my way.”

“I…” She sobbed. “Be careful. Francisco usually has people with him.”

Rico patted the Walther P-88 through his suit coat. “So do I, Ramona. So do I.”

Lester was waiting for him in the security office. “Look, Rico. You can’t go alone.”

“Sorry, Lester. I gotta. If the girl’s really there, too many dudes will spook this cat. An’ if it’s a trap, the last thing I wanna do is scare the chumps off an’ have to wait for them to come up for air again.” Bushing his coat aside, he pulled out the German semi-automatic and checked the magazine. The sound of him chambering a round echoed in the quiet of the office. Setting the safety, he stuffed the pistol back in his holster and checked the two spare magazines on the left side of his belt.

Lester shook his head and opened the bottom desk drawer. “At least put on ol’ faithful. Just in case.”

Grinning, Rico took the ankle holster and his old Chief’s Special and pulled up his left pant leg. The Velcro gripped tight, and he went through a series of kicks to make sure the .38 wouldn’t shift. “Solid. Thanks, Lester. I might owe you one.” He turned and felt his eyes go serious. “Keep an eye on Mindy for me. I don’t want her gettin’ ideas and trying to come after me. Her an’ Trudy honestly. Where’s Stan?”

“Off doing something for Castillo.”

“Don’t you give that big lug any ideas either. Or Sonny.” Rico paused, then grinned. “But he’s in meetings with Towers until eight. Score.” He saw the worry on Lester’s face and chuckled. “It ain’t all that, Lester. I’m just checkin’ out a lead.”

He drove like he was on autopilot, threading the pool Mercedes in and out of traffic without blinking. He’d grabbed the pool car in case there was a girl to transport, and if not he hoped it might throw any ambusher off for a few seconds. The regrets were starting to bounce around in his head. Maybe he should have brought one of his people. It wasn’t like they were simple rent-a-cops. Any one of them had years of experience. But he couldn’t bring himself to put any of them in danger meant for him.

The sun was starting to slide into the ocean by the time he turned off the main road and onto the dirt one leading to the old tour dock. Cracking the window, he could smell the swamp. Thick dead, rotting air with a punch all its own. It reminded him of hot summer nights back in New York when the trash collectors were on strike. The road snaked around patches of muck and random clumps of stunted trees until it finally opened up on the edge of a wide swath of stagnant water. In the gloom he could see a cluster of rickety shacks and a low wooden dock extending like a finger into the swamp.

An old Ford Granada was parked near one of the shacks. The kind of car someone had lifted and blown the exhaust on without bothering with the engine. A cheap pimp’s car. Shutting off the Mercedes, Rico stepped out into the muggy heat, his hand close to the edge of his suit coat. Slipping on his Ray Bans, he looked from the car to the shack and back. “Carmelita! If you’re here, come on out. Ramona sent me!”

Wood creaked as the shack door opened and a slim figure came out. “You’re not Francisco.”

“No. Ramona sent me to keep you safe from him.” He squinted into the shadows. Yeah, it’s a girl. No question. But I don’t think she’s alone. He could feel the fear radiating from her like a physical thing. “Come on out an’ we’ll get out of here. Is that your car?”

She turned to the car like she was seeing it for the first time. “No. I…”

The single gunshot tore a hole through her chest, sending her spinning against the wall of the shack. The second shot finished the job, and she slumped to the ground leaving a red smear on the stained boards. “Now ain’t that a damned shame? Cheating ex-cop kills his lover an’ then himself.”

Rico could feel the rage flooding cold through his chest. “You son of a bitch!”

“So you met my mother? Piece of work, ain’t she?” Hector Rendozo appeared out of the shadows between the two shacks, a Beretta gripped firmly in his hand. Rico could see movement off to his left, and was surprised when the Grenada’s truck popped open and a skinny man with a pump shotgun emerged. “Yeah, don’t get no ideas, cop. We got you surrounded.”

“Why kill the girl?”

“Why not? Makes for a good story in the papers. An’ don’t feel too bad for her. Ramona didn’t know how bad she really was.”

Jangles came into clear view now. Only the man from the trunk remained nameless. “Yeah. That dumb bitch thought ol’ Caramel was pure as driven snow. Shit, that girl’s killed more dudes than I have.”

“Now you go slow an’ toss that pistol out.” Hector took a step closer. “I know you got one there.”

Rico eased the Walther out and tossed it to the ground. Inside he was fuming, mostly at himself. I should have brought someone else! What a chump! “So why me, Hector?”

“You’re the one who locked me up. Took those years from me. Now you die an’ I use that to get an in with Burnett an’ the others.” He grinned, looking pleased with himself. “Now you get over there by the girl an’ we’ll tie this up nice an’ neat. Ramon, why don’t you…”

Ramon started to turn when his head disappeared in a spray of blood and bone. The high crack of a rifle took all four by surprise, but Rico recovered first. A rifle. That means Randy! Spinning, he dove away from the open space and scrambled for a spot behind the Mercedes. As he moved his right hand found the familiar grips of the Smith & Wesson at his ankle.

“Smoke that bitch, Jangles! Smoke…” Hector’s voice was lost in the rapid explosion of three shots from off to their left. Coming out of the muck, Rico saw a figure in fatigues who looked like some kind of swamp ghost. The small black rifle at his hip looked familiar, and the three rounds that tore through Jangles’ chest sent a clear message.

Martin Castillo’s voice was death’s whisper. “Drop the Beretta. Now.”

Hector started to shake, but the pistol hit the ground with a thud. “You can’t…”

“Yes, I can. You came after my people.” Rico started to raise his hand, but lowered it when the carbine spoke again and Hector Rendozo passed from this world to the next with six rounds in his chest.

 

Martin Castillo looked at the office door. “I don’t know…”

Trudy took his hand. “You can do this, Marty. You have to do this.”

He nodded, not quite able to look her in the eye. When the door opened, he got to his feet. The man was somehow smaller than he’d expected, but in a way much larger. Like Ti Ti had been. HIs voice was thick with Texas. “You must be Marty. Sonny told me some about you. Call me Tex, an’ come on in. Ma’am, there’s coffee if you want it. We might be a bit.”

 

Mindy and Gina were belowdecks with Jenny working on supper when Sonny finally cornered Stan and Rico back by the wheel. They’d been on the water for six hours now, and this was the first chance he’d had. “So Randy and Castillo just took them out?”

Rico nodded. “An’ I do mean out. I ain’t never seen anything like it. Those chumps didn’t stand a chance.”

Stan chuckled. “Miami-Dade’s got nothing. But I think some of Elvis’ kin might have put on some weight out there.”

Sonny shook his head. “I guess we should have known. Marty isn’t one to take things lying down.” He shot Stan a quick glare. “You could have told us.”

“And risked his wrath? I ain’t that stupid.” Stan grinned. “But you know something? It’s all over now.”

Rico nodded. “Yeah, I think he’s right.”

Sonny nodded, thinking about Marty and his first appointment with Tex. They’d be in session by now, and he thought back to his first appointment with the skinny vet. “Yeah,” he said, looking out toward the water. “Yeah, I guess it really is over. Finally.”

Edited October 3, 2020 by Robbie C.

[MrsCastillo]

Sad it’s over but a beautiful ending! 

[Robbie C.]

Glad you enjoyed it.

[Dadrian]

@Robbie C. May I humbly dub your “No Good Deed” saga as the collective Post of the Year?

There aren’t many people who creatively keep Miami Vice alive, but you (by no mistake) have become somewhat of a legend here with your contributions, Sir. 

[Robbie C.]

I’m just glad people enjoyed it. 

[mjcmmv]

As usual, you did a great job with this story!  I loved every minute and hate to see it end! Thanks for all this hard work!

 

 

 

 

[Robbie C.]

3 hours ago, mjcmmv said:

As usual, you did a great job with this story!  I loved every minute and hate to see it end! Thanks for all this hard work!

 

 

 

 

It turned out a touch long, but I think it worked out ok. 

[Matt5]

Throughly enjoyed it @Robbie C.

[mjcmmv]

On 10/5/2020 at 9:05 AM, Robbie C. said:

It turned out a touch long, but I think it worked out ok. 

I don't think it was too long. Just coordinating all the events and making the plot come together was a huge task and you did it so smoothly. 

[Robbie C.]

I guess it just felt that way to me. It was all first draft, as usual, so I guess I'm tougher on it than perhaps I should be.

[Glades]

This one for sure wasn´t too long. There was that much content!

Edited December 18, 2020 by Glades