Page 146 of The Newcomer
“The plan was we’d go back over there to the motel after things quieted down, and we’d get the stuff and blow town.”
“But even the best-laid plans, right?” Vikki said.
“Huh? Anyway, we went back over to the club, and Chuck got shitfaced, and when he got like that, he turned mean. Like, crazy mean. We were on the way out of the club with the girls, and the bouncer said something to Chuck, and the next thing I know, that crazy bastard pulled a knife on the bouncer. The dude was half his age and twice his size! Then the cops came and things were getting real. I managed to slip away in the confusion.”
“Lucky you,” Joe said. “So, Tanya’s in jail in St. Pete, Chuck’s in jail in Tampa, and you’re footloose and fancy-free. But you still don’t know where the loot was hidden. Am I right?”
Rooney rubbed his jaw again. “I don’t have to talk to you people. I’m in pain here.” He reached for a cord tethered to the side of his bed and made a show of pushing the call button. In another minute, the door opened and a nurse popped his head in.
“Everything okay in here?”
“No,” Rooney said. “Isn’t it time for my pain meds yet?”
The nurse looked at the chart clipped to the wall near the door. “Not quite yet.”
“How about something for my anxiety?” Rooney whined. “I feel like my blood pressure’s about to shoot through the roof here.”
“I’ll talk to the doctor when he makes rounds,” the nurse said.
“Never mind,” Vikki Hill said. “We’re leaving now.” She stood up and helped herself to another piece of candy. “But we’ll be back.”
59
FBI AGENT ALEX GARCIA WASleaning against the wall outside a curtained-off alcove in the emergency room. He was still wearing the aviator sunglasses, but the loud plaid shorts had been replaced by staid khaki pants and a navy polo shirt.
“Joe, meet Agent Garcia,” Vikki Hill said.
“Good job out there today,” Garcia said, shaking Joe’s outstretched hand. He nodded at Vikki and jerked his thumb in the direction of the alcove. “He’s all yours. I’m gonna take off now.”
Evan Wingfield was handcuffed to a gurney in a curtained-off alcove in the emergency room. His left foot was heavily wrapped and bandaged and his eyes were closed.
“Looks like he’s asleep.” Joe leaned over the bed, and with his thumb, opened the suspect’s eye.
“Wake up, asshole,” he said loudly.
Wingfield turned his head slightly. “Enjoy the joke while you can. I’m suing both of you for wrongful arrest and assault. And that’s just for starters.”
“Boo-hoo,” Joe said.
“Maybe you’ll become a jailhouse lawyer while you’re locked up in prison for the rest of your life,” Vikki mused. “I mean, from what I hear, you only get paid for billable hours in packs of cigarettes and commissary Hot Pockets, but it’s probably a rewarding way to fill all those empty hours.”
“Yeah. Sadly, I think his days as a dance instructor are probably over,” Joe added.
Wingfield sighed heavily. “You’re wasting your time here. I’m not talking to you.”
Vikki nudged Joe. “Waste of time? When is it a waste of time to see a murdering piece of shit chained to a hospital bed?”
“With a bullet hole in his foot,” Joe agreed. “It’s a beautiful thing. Day. Made.”
“Anyway, since we were in the neighborhood, we just stopped by to fill you in on the news,” Vikki said. “I just got off a call with Cheryl Shapiro. She’s the assistant US attorney in New York who’s been heading up the investigation into your illegal Airbnb enterprise. Did I mention you’ve been the subject of a nearly-two-years-long grand jury investigation?”
Wingfield shrugged. “Fishing expedition. My real estate investments are entirely legal.”
Vikki wagged her finger in his face. “You’ve turned whole apartment and co-op buildings into illegal hotels, which is illegal in itself. And then, to keep the city from shutting you down, you bribed corrupt city council members and two city housing inspectors to look the other way. I’m sure you must remember my quote ‘predecessor’? Not the brightest light on the Christmas tree, that one. Or the most discreet. Bought himself a BMW convertible with the cash you slipped him at that diner you love so much. And yeah, we’ve got that on video. Along with all the meetings that you and I conducted there.”
Evan Wingfield stared at her, but said nothing.
“It’s called racketeering, slick, and you can look forward to being prosecuted under the RICO Act.”
