Blood Money

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jack’s car was waiting at the curb with the motor running. The group of demonstrators outside the courthouse was mostly people who wanted to get on television, and the BNN cameraman was happy to oblige. The gathering would look much larger and much more passionate on the evening edition of the Faith Corso Show; there was nothing like well-edited crowd-scene video to obscure the fact that no one inside the courtroom had actually presented any evidence to link Jack “Sly-teck” to jury tampering. One protester managed to thrust a sign in Jack’s face as he raced down the granite steps, but before the reporter could catch him and demand a comment, Jack jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Theo hit the gas, and the car pulled away.

“Thanks, man,” said Jack.

Judge Matthews had deferred ruling until at least Monday, but Jack could count on one hand the people on the planet who believed that someone other than Jack and his client were behind the jury tampering. Two of them were in the car-Theo and Abuela.

Theo glanced in the rearview mirror and said, “She ain’t happy.”

Abuela was in the backseat behind Theo, with her packed suitcase on the seat beside her. If Rene’s murder had proved anything, the threat against “someone you love” was pretty broad. It was time to follow through on getting Abuela out of town.

“Jack, el ticket,” said Abuela. “Is one way.”

Jack glanced over the passenger’s-side headrest. His grandmother was studying her itinerary.

“We’ll buy a return when it’s time to come home,” he said.

“How long I go?”

“I don’t know,” said Jack.

“You send me away for you don’t know how long?”

“It’s all about keeping you safe,” said Jack.

“An old woman alone in a strange land-this is safe?”

Jack tried not to roll his eyes. “You’re going to Tampa to stay with your brother.”

“Forty years I fight to get out of Cuba to see my grandson. He sends me away on one-way ticket. Ay, Dios mio.”

“Abuela, please-”

Theo reached across the console, stopping him. “Dude, you’re not gonna win this one.”

Jack’s phone rang. It was Ted Gaines.

“Swyteck, I asked you to call me.”

Jack recalled the gesture at the end of the hearing. “I was getting around to it.”

“We have a hearing at two P.M.,” said Gaines.

“No, Judge Matthews said Monday morning.”

“I’m talking about Laramore versus BNN. You know, the frivolous lawsuit you filed against my client?”

Jack ignored the swipe. “I didn’t get notice of any hearing.”

“I’m sure his assistant will be calling you any minute now. It was just scheduled at BNN’s request.”

“I’m getting tired of the sniper tactics, Ted. What’s this about?”

“More postings on Celeste Laramore’s Facebook page. Everything you took down is back up. Plus more.”

Jack caught his breath, not sure he had enough fingers to plug another hole in the dam. “When did this happen?”

“While we were in court at this morning’s hearing.”

“That can’t be. We reset the username and password to freeze Celeste’s Facebook account.”

“I assure you, the account is up and running, telling the world all about your lawsuit against BNN in flagrant violation of Judge Burrows’ order.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“At this point, Swyteck, I don’t care if you do or you don’t. BNN’s position is that this is the second willful violation of a court order, and I’m going to ask the court to dismiss your case.”

“Fine,” said Jack. “Do what you gotta do.”

Gaines ended the call. Jack immediately accessed Facebook on his iPhone. Sure enough, Celeste’s page had been reactivated. The only way to remove the postings was to log in as the administrator, but when Jack typed in the username and password, he got an error message: username and password invalid.

“Somebody hijacked Celeste’s Facebook page,” said Jack.

“Hijack?” said Abuela. “Someone hijack plane?”

“No,” said Jack. “Not the plane.”

Theo glanced over from behind the wheel. “Say what?”

Jack didn’t have time to explain, and this wasn’t something that Theo could fix anyway. “Just keep driving,” he said.

Jack put an emergency call in to a tech expert who owed him a favor or two. The call went to voice mail, and Jack left the essential details in an urgent message.

“You calling who I think you’re calling?” asked Theo.

“Chuck Mays,” said Jack.

“Ah, good ol’ Chuck-my-name-rhymes-with-”

“Stop,” said Jack, saving Abuela’s ears. Apart from being famous for dropping the f-bomb, Chuck Mays was in the personal data-mining business, and he knew the dark side of social media better than any predator on the Internet. With Jack’s legal guidance, Chuck had turned those skills against an online pedophile who had targeted the Mayses’ teenage daughter. Jack had never asked for anything in return, but if ever there would be such a time, this was it.

In less than a minute Chuck returned Jack’s call, which Jack took on the Bluetooth speaker so that he could jot down notes, if needed.

“You want me to figure out a Facebook password?” said Chuck. “Are you fu-”

“Yes, I’m serious,” said Jack. “And please mind your language. I have my grandmother in the car with me.”

“Oh, sorry. My fucking bad.”

“Chuck!”

“Terrible habit. But okay,” he said, breathing deeply, “I got it under control.”

Jack glanced at Abuela, who thankfully had missed the f-bomb. She could converse one-on-one in English, but typically a stray word from some conversation between Anglos didn’t elicit a reaction from her, unless, of course, she thought it had something to do with Cuba or Castro. NBC News confirms that Iranian dictator Ahmadinejad has declared death to infidels-“Ay, Jack! Que dijo de Fidel?”

“So let me get this straight,” said Chuck. “Of all the things you could ask for, you’re burning a favor on a Facebook problem?”

“It’s my client’s account,” said Jack. “It’s been hijacked.”

“Hijack?” said Abuela. It was one of those buzz words. “The plane?”

“No, no,” said Jack. “Chuck, excuse me a second. Abuela, the planes are fine, I promise. Really, todo esta bien con los airplane-os.”

“Airplane-os?” said Chuck.

It even made Theo wince. “Worst damn Spanish of any half-Cuban boy in Miami.”

Abuela sighed in despair, muttering something that translated roughly as “Thank God your mother isn’t alive to hear this.”

“Can we just focus, please?” said Jack. “Chuck, I need you to access my client’s account and delete all of today’s postings. Can you do it?”

“Sure.”

“This is an emergency. Don’t tell me you can do it if you can’t do it right now.”

“Piece of cake.”

“Is that a yes?” asked Jack.

“What else would I mean by ‘piece of cake’?” said Chuck.

“Allow me to translate,” said Theo. “Jack, he said: Piece-o of cake-o. Easy as pie-o. Like falling off a bike-o and hijacking an airplane-o.”

“Hijack?” said Abuela.

“Enough with the hijacks!” said Jack. “Chuck, I need to be able to count on you for this. Shut the thing down, and make sure it stays down.”

“No fucking problem, dude.”

“Ay!” Abuela shrieked, covering her ears.

Jack cringed and took him off speaker, escaping a second f-bomb by literally a half second. Jack thanked him, and as the call ended, Theo pulled up to curbside check-in. Jack got out, grabbed Abuela’s suitcase, and then helped her out of the car. Fridays were always busy at MIA, but even with the cars and buses streaming past them, baggage attendants at work, and hundreds of travelers coming and going, Jack felt alone with his grandmother outside the terminal. It was the tear hanging from the corner of her eye that got him.

He gave her a hug. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I see this before. Old people go away. They no come home.”

“Is that what you think? I’m just sending you away?”

“Like my friend, Beatriz. ‘Oh, Nana, here your plane ticket to Chicago-just a nice visit to see your niece.’ Two week later the moving van come. Beatriz never be back.”

“That’s not what this is about. Don’t ever think that I would do that.”

“Never did think. Before today.” She reached up, cupped her hand on his face. “Bye, mi vida.”

She tried to lift her own bag, which tore Jack apart. “Okay, stop. Abuela, this isn’t permanent. This is-”

“Jack,” said Theo.

Jack shot a look over his shoulder. “Not now.”

“Jack, really.” Theo was walking around the back of the car with his phone in his hand.

“What now?” said Jack.

“You need to take this.”

“I can’t.”

“Yeah, you can,” said Theo, handing him the phone. “It’s Sydney Bennett.”