Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5) (52 page)

Chapter Thirty-three

As she mounted the stone steps of the courthouse a week later, Mara could think of a million and one things she’d rather do on a Tuesday afternoon than testify against Victor Mendoza. Climbing double time to keep up with the long-legged strides of the men surrounding her, she didn’t utter a word of complaint, grateful for the protective barrier they formed, each one a tall, formidable tower of muscle. Rossi had shown up in force with a contingent of a dozen men, six armed personnel stationed outside the courthouse and the elite six, which were serving as Mara’s personal detail, shadowing her, and ready to protect her with their lives. Each man wore bulletproof Kevlar, which kind of freaked her out, and prompted prayers that the effectiveness of those vests wouldn’t be put to the test here today.

Mara concentrated on making sure each foot connected solidly with a stone tread as they took the flight of two dozen or more steps. Sean’s big hand curled around her hip, keeping her close as he shielded her on one flank while Dex’s bulk protected the other. Cap took point as Lil T and Jonas brought up the rear. Rick had gone ahead with agents Muñoz and Robinson to ensure the courthouse doors and lobby were clear.

As they reached the landing, Sean’s arm tightened around her. He moved her in front of him as Cap opened the door and their entourage entered single file through the only open door. Waiting by the metal detectors up ahead, a court officer beside him, Rick waved them over.

“No weapons beyond this point,” the officer announced as they approached.

With certainty, the Rossi men knew that. They also knew that beyond this point they had to rely on the internal security of the U.S. District Court. The first line of defense was a metal detector. Cap led the way, Rick passing through behind him with no problem, but when Mara stepped through the alarm sounded shrilly. Freezing, she looked at the flashing lights over her head, and then spun to Sean who was waiting behind her.

“Step back, Miss,” the guard instructed, “and remove all metal items from your pockets.”

“I don’t have pockets.” Her hands went to her ears. “Would my earrings set it off?”

“Possibly. Place them on the tray. Your rings, too.”

With trembling hands, she dropped her jewelry in the tray.

“Breathe, Mara,” Sean murmured by her side.

She nodded and stepped back through. The high-pitched beeps went off again.

“Step to the side, Miss. Spread your arms, please.” The older man then took a hand-held wand and waved it over her body. It was silent until it reached her knee.

“My brace! I’m so sorry. I assumed it was plastic.” She pulled up the hem of her maxi-dress and showed him the support she wore.

“Can you walk if you remove it?” he asked.

“Yes,” she assured as her trembling fingers pulled open the Velcro straps and set it on a tray. As she stepped through once again, she was greeted by blessed silence. Sean walked through behind her and joined her at the table, his arm sliding around her waist as the guard inspected her brace.

“We don’t have a scanner, so this will have to stay outside.”

“Seriously?” Lil T bit out in disbelief. “She was shot by the bastards on trial for Christ’s sake. They’re the reason she needs the brace in the first place.”

The guard who was unflaggingly polite nodded in understanding. “Sorry, Miss, it’s the rules. I could take it apart, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be much use to you if I did. We have a wheelchair if—”

“Oh, no,” Mara waved aside the offer. “I need it most for the stairs. Can I pick it up here on the way out?”

“No, Miss, we can’t store belongings.”

“Give it to me, darlin’,” T growled. “I’ll run it back to the vehicle.”

As they turned away, the guard called after her. “It takes a brave woman to do what you’re doing, Miss. I admire that.”

As Sean led her away, she aimed a smile over her shoulder at the nice man, but her security team had once again closed ranks, encircling her until all she saw was Kevlar vests over incredibly broad chests.

* * * * *

“Baby, you’ve got to calm down. You’re trembling so much you’re rattling the chair.”

“He’s staring at me, Sean. Can’t we wait in the hall until I’m called?”

“It’s safer in here. More controlled,” was his answer. Over her head, he caught T’s attention. “Switch places, T. Mendoza has a direct line of sight to Mara and has been eyeballing her since we walked in.”

“No problem.” They all stood and shifted. Seated again, T cast a laser-eyed glare at the defendant’s table, giving Victor a taste of his own medicine. Sean felt his lips twitch, suppressing a grin as his friend scowled blackly at the son of a bitch. His smile broke free when the worm squirmed in his seat. It was little compensation for the hell he’d put her through, but he’d take it until the gavel fell, quite literally, on Victor Mendoza’s reign of terror.

She noticed. “What’s funny?”

“T’s giving the bastard the stink eye,” Sean nodded as Victor shifted front. “He’s scared shitless.”

“Good. I’d enjoy watching, if I wasn’t such a wreck.”

His chin dipped and he took in the compressed line of her usually soft, full lips and the purplish-blue shadows beneath her eyes. The dark circles had become prominent in the last few weeks, coinciding with the return of her nightmares as the trial date approached. He reached for her hand.

“Relax, this is the home stretch. We’ve got you covered and Victor has no power over you now. Got me?”

“I got you.”

He nodded, bringing her fingers to his lips.

“Mara, what do you know about cousin Horatio over there?” Cap had leaned in from his seat in the next row, where he and Jonas had her back, providing continuous protection even in court. Sean saw Mara twist her neck to answer, jumping when she found his face close. Cap didn’t appear to notice, his astute gaze glued to the thirty-something man seated in the front row across the aisle. Sean squeezed Mara’s shaky fingers as he followed Cap’s intent stare to the newest Mendoza threat.

“I’ve only seen him in pictures before today. He’s the youngest male cousin and until a few weeks ago, I assumed he was in the family biz like the rest.”

“He’s legit?” Cap returned in clear disbelief. “How do you know?”

She shrugged. “You learn a lot while tied to a chair for two days, especially when your captor has no idea you speak Spanish.”

Sean stiffened. It was all he could do to keep from storming to the front and beating Mendoza to a bloody pulp before he separated his head from his shoulders and stuck it up his own ass. Every time he heard stories of the abuse she’d suffered at his hands, he became livid. His fingers flexed around her hand as he brought it to his thigh, holding it tight as he struggled for control.

“Lucky?” Her eyes sought his out.

Easing his grip, he murmured, “I’m cool, nightingale, but I want this shit done.”

She nodded in full understanding.

“What did you learn, Mara?” Jonas prompted as he leaned forward on her other side. Not knowing who to address or which way to face, she switched between the two, her head swiveling back and forth as if at a tennis match.

“You guys are giving her whiplash,” Sean grumbled. “Back off.”

It was Mara’s turn to give a squeeze of reassurance, but she did it with both hands. “It’s okay, babe.”

“Didn’t the Feds ask about Horatio?” Cap pressed.

“No, surprisingly, his name never came up.”

His inquisitive frown turned into a scowl. “How could they miss asking about the kingpin’s nephew?”

“Maybe because he grows sugar cane,” she offered.

“You’re shitting me,” Lil T blurted out. “Mendozas and farming go together like a five hundred pound man in a thong.”

Before Mara spoke again, she turned sideways in her chair. With Sean at her back, she leaned against him now able to address Cap, Jonas and T all at once without imitating a bobble head.

“This is what I know about Horatio, which isn’t much. Victor doesn’t like him, despises him, in fact. He badmouthed him to Esteban every chance he got while I was held those two days, and Esteban and Victor argue about him a lot. After avenging Benito’s death, the old man wants out. Evidently, the life of a kingpin with bullets flying around your head all the time can be stressful, or so I hear.”

Her little joke was met with smiles and a chuckle from Lil T. Sean didn’t find any humor in flying bullets, especially when his wife had already taken two. Victor’s bullets had left visible scars, as well as others you couldn’t see. She’d carry them forever as reminder of their painful association.

“Horatio never bought into the family’s new line of business from what I gathered,” Mara went on, surprisingly calm in the retelling. “Evidently, before they turned pimps, dealers and thugs, the family had a history as plantation owners. For two hundred years, it was their livelihood. As the only lawful one in the bunch, Horatio is an anomaly today.

Jonas spoke up his smart phone in hand. “She’s right. It says here that
Mendoza Emprasas,
the parent company, has a net worth of fifty million. Its value spiked a few years back when Horatio branched out into ethanol production.”

“What the hell?” T bit out. “Why was Victor selling women back east,” his eyes shot to Mara apologetically, “and Esteban running drugs and guns across the border, if they could make a living the legal way?”

“Who knows what goes on in his warped brain?” Mara returned. “The family had turned to crime well before Horatio made the company millions. I think Esteban must be growing a brain in his old age. He was trying to convince Victor to go home with him and work with Horatio when this was done. He said the toll was too high. As you can imagine, that didn’t go over so well with Victor. After that, he got so angry I lost him. I can hang in with regular everyday Spanish, but when someone gets riled, starts running off at the mouth and cursing a blue streak, I can’t keep up. The gist I got was Victor resented the idea of working for his younger cousin and that being a farmer was degrading.”

“And wearing an orange jumpsuit for life isn’t?”

Mara cast weary eyes at T. “As I mentioned before, he’s warped.”

“So why is Horatio here?” Sean asked her.

“I imagine he’s here for his uncle.”

Sean studied the dozen men that surrounded Horatio. They sat quietly though vigilant. Their eyes were alert, shifting around the room and cutting to the door each time it opened, as if expecting something. One man looked at his phone, then leaned forward to speak to Victor. He wore a grin as he turned. Who smiled while awaiting his murder trial to begin? Something wasn’t right. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Cap leaned forward again. “There are four of us inside, Dex and Rick are in the corridor, and we have six armed men stationed outside. Everyone has been screened for weapons. What are you thinking we’re missing?”

“I don’t know. It’s a feeling in my gut and I don’t like the odds.” His head tilted to the Mendoza contingent across the aisle as he met the eyes of his captain and good friend. They cut to T and then Jonas, who also looked on in concern. “It could be nothing more than a burning desire to beat the shit out of the defendant, but I don’t think so.”

“We’ll stay alert, bud,” assured Jonas.

“All rise!” the bailiff cried. The call to order hopefully signaled the beginning of the end for Victor Mendoza.

* * * * *

The opening statements took up the entire morning. Two hours after lunch, they hadn’t progressed beyond the first prosecution witness. Mara hadn’t been to court before but had watched legal dramas on TV, by comparison there were an excessive number of sidebars, objections and time spent by the judge explaining the rule of law to the defense attorney and the jury. Moreover, it was boring, nothing like
The Good Wife
or
Boston Legal
, both of which she had binge watched on Netflix while under virtual house arrest. The DA’s opening had been impressive, his case against the Mendoza’s damning, such that Mara wondered why they didn’t plea. Esteban, an old man, didn’t look like he could withstand a lengthy legal battle. As for Victor, well… Mara hoped he fought tooth and nail, going through all of his blood, drug and whore money for his defense only to wind up rotting in federal prison in the end. Oh, and she couldn’t forget about him becoming Big Luther’s bitch along the way. That would be sweet justice.

As the afternoon dragged on, Mara leaned into Sean’s side. “At this rate, we’ll be here for months.”

“These things can go on and on, baby. It’s almost four. The judge will call for a recess any time now.”

Pop pop pop. Mara’s heart lurched in her chest. Dear god! She’d heard that sound before. It haunted her dreams. Harsh memories swamped her, leaving her frozen, unable to breathe, let alone think. Strong arms lifted her from her seat and carried her. Dazed, she watched as chairs were thrown aside by Cap who ran in a crouch ahead of them. Sean was on his heels, his frame curved around her back as he hauled her bodily toward the exit.

Glass shattering, the snap of splintering wood, screams and more gunshots accompanied shouts in Spanish as chaos erupted ahead of them. Mara’s head came up, trying to see what was happening, but Sean shoved it back down, pressing it against his chest as they changed directions. Only able to see directly in front of them, she watched as Cap led them into the vacated jury box.

Behind them, Lil T roared, “We need weapons dammit. We’re sitting ducks.”

“I’ve got it.” Jonas replied as he produced three handguns from holsters strapped to his body. “Luger 9 mms with 18-rounds loaded. I’ve only got two extra clips; it’s all I could carry.” He passed one to each man, except Sean, who had his hands full with Mara.

“Damn, Tech. How did you get past security?”

“They’re titanium. It’s undetectable.”

“Why didn’t you give them to us up front?” T demanded as he checked the load.

“I was only 99% sure it would work,” Jonas replied. “I figured one of us going down was better than all.”

“You just earned yourself a huge bonus my friend,” Cap vowed. “Now, let’s find a way out of here.”