Chapter SEVENTY-SEVEN
As November slipped into history, the key settled back into its languid rhythms. I was unsettled, spending too much time at Tiny’s and the other bars on the island. Logan was back on Longboat and spent a lot of time with me, leaving Marie to fend for herself as he made sure I wasn’t drinking more than was good for me.
Jeff Worthington was released from the Hillsborough County jail on a five-hundred-dollar bond the day after his arrest. Without either the murder weapon or the testimony of Perez, the prosecutors could not prove that he’d been involved in any of the murders. He could only be charged with the unauthorized practice of law, a misdemeanor.
Worthington did not show up for his first court appearance a week after his release, and the bond was forfeited. Nobody had heard from him since. He was gone, and the state would not spend any money looking for a man charged only with a misdemeanor.
Jock made a quick appearance during the first week of December, stayed three days, and went back to the wars. On his first day, he sat me down in my living room and said, “What’s going on, podna? Where’s J.D.?”
I told him about her leaving, about the decisions she was trying to make. I didn’t tell him about the letter. And I didn’t tell him she had written that she loved me. I knew I was acting a bit like a lovesick high school kid and I was afraid if I gave any of it away to Jock or Logan, they’d think I’d slipped a gear.
“Are you in touch with her?” asked Jock.
“No. She asked me to stay clear.”
“I’d like her to know that Mariah Fuentes is no longer a threat.”
I was surprised. “Somebody found her?”
“I did.”
“Where?”
“She was in Mexico, living with one of the jefes of a drug cartel.”
“What happened?”
“She and I had a conversation,” Jock said.
“And?”
“She was the one who sent the Guatemalan gangbangers after you and J.D. She said it was to teach Mr. Worthington a lesson. He wasn’t moving fast enough for her. She thought if she had the gangbangers kill you, Worthington would get the message and take J.D. out. She figured that J.D. would be well guarded after the other attempts on her life and that you’d be an easy target and a grand object lesson for Worthington. One that would let him know that she had other assets and a long reach. Your death was supposed to convince Worthington that he had to move quickly on J.D. Mariah was crazy and none of what she did was the least bit rational.”
“Was?”
“She died,” Jock said simply.
I wasn’t going to ask how. “Did you ever figure out who was paying Gene Alexander for the information he was peddling?”
“Yes. They died, too.”
“You?”
“No. Dave sent some of our other guys after them. I got a chance to talk to Mariah, but that was my only involvement.”
“So, you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, Matt. Dave has me doing some analyst work, shuffling paper. I think he’s afraid I’m not yet ready to go back to the field.”
“What do you think?”
“I think Dave’s right. Maybe it’s time for me to give it up.”
“Retire?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I could be a beach bum just yet. I may see if Dave will let me continue with the paperwork. Stay out of the field.”
“I’m glad to hear that. You’re getting a little long in the tooth to be a field agent.”
Jock was quiet for a beat. Then he smiled. “Screw you, podna.”
“With Mariah out of the picture,” I said, “I guess Worthington is the only one left. I wonder if he has the balls to take another swing at J.D.”
“He won’t,” said Jock.
“Why do you say that?”
“The day I left here, I went to Tampa and took care of him.”
“Took care of him?” I asked.
“Yes. Dave told me on the phone that he was being released that evening. I met him when he came out of the jail.”
“And what do you mean, you took care of him?”
“He won’t ever bother J.D. again. Or anyone else. Ever.”
I let it go then.