Page 133 of The Right to Remain

It was a relief on one level, but at the same time, her heart broke for Theo. “Is it happening?”

“Imminently,” he said. “No reason to wall you off any longer. You still want to be there?”

“I do.”

“I can pick you up in the parking lot at the Hilton Garden Inn on Brickell. It’s right by the entrance to I-95 North. Can you be there in fifteen minutes?”

She didn’t know when Jack was coming home, but she could leave Righley at the neighbor’s house.

“I’ll meet you there,” she said, and the call ended.

Theo walked up the alley, away from the dumpster and toward the side door to the warehouse. Elton crushed out his cigarette and went with him. The clouds shifted in the night sky, and the alley wassuddenly less dark. Theo hadn’t noticed earlier, when he and Elton were talking alongside the dumpster, but the side door was ajar. The men stopped. The light in the office was off, making it darker inside than in the alley. Theo was certain he’d left the light on and closed the door on his way out. It was an outward-swinging door. It opened another foot and then, slowly, the rest of the way. Baptiste was standing in the shadows just inside the doorway. There was enough moonlight to see that he was holding a pistol.

“Don’t either one of you assholes move,” said Baptiste.

Through the earlier exchange of song lyrics in code, Theo had confirmed that “Elton” was FBI, so he would follow the agent’s lead. Neither man moved.

“How long you been standing there?” asked Theo.

Baptiste smiled. “Long enough.”

Theo wasn’t sure if that meant Baptiste had overheard what was, objectively speaking, a strange conversation between two men standing in an alley, including the code words that were a song title—“Someone Saved My Life Tonight.” But Baptiste’s next question removed all doubt.

“You got something to tell me... sugar bear?”

Elton was armed and made a move for his gun, but Baptiste was quicker on the trigger. A shot rang out. Elton went down, and his pistol landed on the pavement beside him. Theo was closer to the door, and before Baptiste could squeeze off another shot, he slammed it shut with a roundhouse kick he’d learned in CJ’s class. He hurried to Elton’s side, grabbed the agent’s gun, and fired a shot into the closed door that would surely make Baptiste think twice about entering the alley. It bought him time to drag Elton to safety and take cover behind the dumpster. Theo crouched and kept one eye on the side door as he checked Elton’s wound. He was hit in the left knee.

“You need an ambulance,” said Theo. “We have to make a run for it and call 911. I can carry you.”

“No!” said Elton. “Baptiste is shipping more than just handguns to Haiti. He’s got two dozen semiautomatic rifles and enough ammunition for an army. He’ll mow us down if we come running out of the alley. How good are you with a pistol?”

Theo didn’t mention his life as a Grove Lord. “I’m all right.”

He pulled his backup firearm from his ankle holster and handed it to Theo. “The two of us can maintain our position of cover.”

“We can’t just sit here,” said Theo.

“Better to hold and call for backup.” Elton was struggling to pull his phone from his pants pocket, so Theo did it for him. The agent’s hand was shaking as he attempted to dial.

“Punch number eight for me,” Elton said through the pain.

Theo did so, and Elton spoke into the phone.

“Agent Aronberg,” he said identifying himself. “I’m hit in the knee but fine.Candle in the Wind.”

Theo wasn’t privy tothatcode, but he didn’t need to be a rocket man to figure out what it meant.

Chapter 50

The call came just after 8 p.m. Jack had expected to hear from the state attorney soon and was at his desk, waiting by the telephone. Elliott was with him, just the two men in Jack’s office after hours. Jack smiled as he hung up.

“That was Abe Beckham,” he told his client. “The indictment will be dismissed tomorrow morning. Congratulations.”

It was impossible to predict a client’s reaction to good news in a criminal case. Some literally jumped for joy. Others broke into tears. A few, like Elliott, were completely stoic.

“Now I suppose everyone will know Austen shot his father,” he said.

“Better now than ten years from now,” said Jack, “when he’s sixteen and you’ve spent ten years in prison for a murder you didn’t commit.”