| General Fiction posted September 15, 2024 | Chapters: |
...24 25 -26- 
|
The sad close of a chapter
A chapter in the book Spirited Justice
Spirited Justice Chap 26
by Begin Again
| Background "Beauty, Brawn, or Brains" was a global platform showcasing women's diverse talents, yet murders, accidents, and deceit haunted the pageant worldwide. Was there a common link or merely coincidence? |
The sun was setting as the limo drove up the long, winding road toward the villa. Angelo rested his head against the seat, taking in the beautiful landscape as the sun's golden rays kissed it goodnight. The serenity mocked what he knew awaited him inside.
The car slowed as it neared the mansion, its grandeur a symbol of power and control. But tonight, it was just a house where heads would butt, lives would change, and nothing would ever be the same.
During the plane ride, he repeatedly replayed this moment in his head, imagining the conversation with Carlos. He tried to rehearse what he would say, but nothing seemed right. As he walked through the garden with its fragrant honeysuckle blossoms, he was no closer to finding the right words.
His emotions churned inside him, a storm of conflicting feelings. Friendship and camaraderie reminded him that he and Carlos had been more than business partners. The outcome wouldn't be good no matter what happened in the next few minutes.
As Maria opened the door, Angelo took a deep breath, steadying himself. She touched his arm and murmured, "He waits in the study. God be with you and Senor Hernandez."
Angelo nodded and patted her hand. "Appreciate your prayers, Maria. It's a sad night."
He turned and walked toward the study as the housekeeper made the sign of the cross and hurried back to the kitchen, a clear sign that she wanted to be far away from the impending confrontation.
*****
The closed drapes blocked out the remaining sunlight and brought a sense of sorrow and tension to the room. Carlos sat behind his desk, whiskey in hand, staring at nothing. His sunken eyes, with their glazed look, sent a chill down Angelo's spine. The weariness and pain in his friend's face were not something Angelo was accustomed to seeing, and the sight caused his emotions to catch in his throat.
Carlos' usual robust greeting wasn't forthcoming. Instead, his voice was low, barely above a whisper, "Angelo, come in."
A few strides and, he moved from the doorway to the desk. Friendly formalities felt stilted. He didn't offer the usual handshake, and neither did Carlos.
He decided to skip all the pleasantries and face the monster in the room. "I let Alejandro go." His words, a confession of sorts, hung in the air.
Carlos set his glass down and nodded. "I figured that's what you would do."
"He's no saint, but Jose and their friendship always overshadowed his decisions. He deserved a second chance."
Carlos sighed, running his hand over his face. "He was a puzzle piece tangled in my son's choices." He looked down at his desk, his voice softening. "Sometimes I wonder if all this is my fault. Did I expect too much, or is the truth that I didn't expect enough?"
Angelo stepped closer and sat in the chair. Carlos slid the whiskey bottle and a glass toward him. He poured it and savored the burn as it slid down his throat.
Carlos' jaw tightened. "You have the documents, si?"
Angelo nodded and took the folded folder from his inside pocket. He slid them across the desk.
Carlos stared at the documents in front of him. "Where did I go wrong? How did we come to this moment where a father must choose between what's right and protecting his son?"
"You did what you thought was best. Unfortunately, Jose always wanted more. Now it isn't about the two of you anymore — too many lives are at stake."
Carlos stood, pushing his chair back. His hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white. "One boy gets a second chance, but my son —" His voice trailed off.
Angelo could feel his pain but fought the urge to show sympathy. "I've cleaned up his messes more times than I can count. It's different this time. He crossed the line, and it can't be ignored."
Carlos remained silent, but the pained look in his eyes was unmistakable. He knew Angelo was right, and the thought of handing his son to the authorities gnawed at him.
"Though your ways aren't always right, you have always been an honorable man, Carlos. It's time to teach him the lessons he should have learned long ago. You must stop protecting him. You love him — that's why it must be done."
Carlos exhaled slowly. "I know. I have to turn him in. And I'll surrender the documents."
Still, Angelo tried to offer a sliver of solace. "It's the only way. You know that. If it were anyone else's son — you wouldn't hesitate."
He watched him carefully, knowing this wasn't easy for Carlos. The man wasn't just a kingpin in his world — he was a father, which made what would come next almost unbearable.
"I'll go talk to him," Carlos said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked to Angelo one last time, searching for some kind of validation. "For what it's worth — thank you for letting Alejandro go. Maybe there's some good left in all this after all."
*****
Carlos's hand trembled as it gripped the bedroom doorknob. A piece of him had died with every step from his study to Jose's room. He straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and willed his feet to step into the room.
He entered with a force he didn't feel. Shaking the folder in his hand, he mustered every ounce of anger from his body and yelled, "You've disgraced this family, Jose. You live a privileged life, and this is how you repay me?"
Lying comfortably in his bed, Jose didn't flinch. Amusement danced in his eyes as he flashed a cocky grin at his father. "Nice to see you too, Old Man. I'm doing fine, not that you bothered to ask."
"This is not one of your games. You act as if putting our family at risk is a joke. What you did —"
"What I did is prove I am better than you. I assure you that we will be swimming in money. You should be thanking me — kissing my feet." Jose's laughter was shrill, bordering on hysteria.
"Thanking you? You are a bigger fool than I thought. This is not about money. You can't erase the stain you've left on this family's name."
Still unfazed by his father's anger, Jose leans back on the pillows, smiling. "Come on, old man. You should be proud. Or is it too difficult to accept that I am not like you — I am better."
Carlos clenched his fists, shaking his head in frustration as he paced the room. "I wanted you to be better than me, but this is not the way. You are nothing but a reckless fool."
Ignoring his father, he asked, "Where's Alejandro? I must thank him for following my plan and bringing the papers. He wants a few extra dollars, I suppose."
Carlos stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he studied his arrogant son. "Your friend — has been taken care of."
Jose's smirk faded. His eyes flashed with anger. "What the hell does that mean? Only I can decide what Alejandro does and doesn't do — he is not your friend."
"Friend! To you, he is a puppet, a toy to amuse you. Nothing more."
"Alejandro understands me."
"Does he? Did he know you sent him into the lion's den without a plan?"
"I gave him a plan. He just needed to follow what I told him to do, and as you see, he must have done just that because you have the papers in your hand. I'll take them — now."
Carlos's gaze hardened, his voice cold and filled with a sense of finality Jose had never heard from him before. "You'll never get these papers, Jose. I won't let you destroy our family, not for greed. The papers are going back to where they belong. It's time for you to be a man."
Jose's sneer deepened, his hand twitching beneath the sheets. 'You never understood, old man. I'll prove to you how small you are, how I've already won.' And then, from beneath the sheets, the gun appeared. "Father, I'm sorry it has come to this."
A second of confusion flickered across Carlos's face as he stared at his son and the gun pointed at him. Before he could react, a shot rang out, mixed with Jose's high-pitched laughter. Carlos stumbled, clutching his side as blood seeped through his fingers. Gasping for breath, he collapsed against the edge of the bed before his body hit the floor with a heavy thud. For a moment, everything froze.
Then, like a slow-motion movie, the door swung open, slamming against the wall. Two of Carlos's men with guns drawn rushed into the room. One look at Carlos's body crumpled on the floor, covered in blood, and their weapons fired. Jose slumped against the pillows — his chest riddled with bullets.
Maria was frantic as she rushed down the hallway. Her hands flew to her mouth as she whispered, "Oh, Dios mio! Senor Carlos!"
A bodyguard, his voice filled with agony, muttered, "Maria, call an ambulance —"
But Angelo heard none of it. He was on his knees next to Carlos, hands trembling as he pressed against the bleeding wound. The sight of his friend's lifeless eyes hit him like a punch to the gut. His voice cracked, "Carlos, stay with me, please —"
Carlos blinked, his face pale. "Angelo — the papers — take them. Don't — let him — have them," he rasped, each word a struggle. "Go! Leave —before it's — too late."
Angelo's heart pounded in his chest, his mind reeling. "I'm not leaving you here, Carlos. You can make it — hold on!"
His voice was barely audible, his eyes watery, and he mumbled, "It's too late for me. You must go."
Angelo shook his head as tears blurred his vision. "I can't leave you — not like this."
"You — must."
Choking back his emotions, he squeezed Carlos's hand, knowing his shallow breathing was probably his last, and whispered, "Hasta que nos veamos de nuevo." (Until we meet again.)
Behind him, the bodyguards exchanged uneasy glances, and one stepped forward, grabbing Angelo by the arm. "Senor Angelo," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Come. You must go before the policia arrive."
Angelo hesitated, his heart breaking as Carlos's hand slipped from his grasp, but he knew he had no choice. He glanced one last time at his friend's lifeless form, his body cold and still on the floor.
His steps were hurried but unsteady as he made his way out of the villa. The once-grand halls now echoed with the chaos and violence of the evening. The distant wail of sirens grew louder as they approached.
Angelo reached the front door, pushing it open with a forceful shove. The cool night air hit him like a slap. He made it to the waiting limo, his breath ragged gasps. As he turned for one last look at the villa, his eyes were drawn to the windows of the study and the bedroom, where he had spent his last moments with Carlos.
With a heavy heart, he slid into the back of the limo, the door shutting behind him with a final click. The driver started the engine, and the car pulled away from the villa.
The plane was ready for takeoff, the engines already rumbling. Angelo barely noticed the bustling activity around him as he boarded. He sank into his seat with a heavy sigh.
As the plane began ascent, he gazed out of the window, watching the villa shrink. The lights of the mansion twinkled a haunting goodbye.
The car slowed as it neared the mansion, its grandeur a symbol of power and control. But tonight, it was just a house where heads would butt, lives would change, and nothing would ever be the same.
During the plane ride, he repeatedly replayed this moment in his head, imagining the conversation with Carlos. He tried to rehearse what he would say, but nothing seemed right. As he walked through the garden with its fragrant honeysuckle blossoms, he was no closer to finding the right words.
His emotions churned inside him, a storm of conflicting feelings. Friendship and camaraderie reminded him that he and Carlos had been more than business partners. The outcome wouldn't be good no matter what happened in the next few minutes.
As Maria opened the door, Angelo took a deep breath, steadying himself. She touched his arm and murmured, "He waits in the study. God be with you and Senor Hernandez."
Angelo nodded and patted her hand. "Appreciate your prayers, Maria. It's a sad night."
He turned and walked toward the study as the housekeeper made the sign of the cross and hurried back to the kitchen, a clear sign that she wanted to be far away from the impending confrontation.
*****
The closed drapes blocked out the remaining sunlight and brought a sense of sorrow and tension to the room. Carlos sat behind his desk, whiskey in hand, staring at nothing. His sunken eyes, with their glazed look, sent a chill down Angelo's spine. The weariness and pain in his friend's face were not something Angelo was accustomed to seeing, and the sight caused his emotions to catch in his throat.
Carlos' usual robust greeting wasn't forthcoming. Instead, his voice was low, barely above a whisper, "Angelo, come in."
A few strides and, he moved from the doorway to the desk. Friendly formalities felt stilted. He didn't offer the usual handshake, and neither did Carlos.
He decided to skip all the pleasantries and face the monster in the room. "I let Alejandro go." His words, a confession of sorts, hung in the air.
Carlos set his glass down and nodded. "I figured that's what you would do."
"He's no saint, but Jose and their friendship always overshadowed his decisions. He deserved a second chance."
Carlos sighed, running his hand over his face. "He was a puzzle piece tangled in my son's choices." He looked down at his desk, his voice softening. "Sometimes I wonder if all this is my fault. Did I expect too much, or is the truth that I didn't expect enough?"
Angelo stepped closer and sat in the chair. Carlos slid the whiskey bottle and a glass toward him. He poured it and savored the burn as it slid down his throat.
Carlos' jaw tightened. "You have the documents, si?"
Angelo nodded and took the folded folder from his inside pocket. He slid them across the desk.
Carlos stared at the documents in front of him. "Where did I go wrong? How did we come to this moment where a father must choose between what's right and protecting his son?"
"You did what you thought was best. Unfortunately, Jose always wanted more. Now it isn't about the two of you anymore — too many lives are at stake."
Carlos stood, pushing his chair back. His hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white. "One boy gets a second chance, but my son —" His voice trailed off.
Angelo could feel his pain but fought the urge to show sympathy. "I've cleaned up his messes more times than I can count. It's different this time. He crossed the line, and it can't be ignored."
Carlos remained silent, but the pained look in his eyes was unmistakable. He knew Angelo was right, and the thought of handing his son to the authorities gnawed at him.
"Though your ways aren't always right, you have always been an honorable man, Carlos. It's time to teach him the lessons he should have learned long ago. You must stop protecting him. You love him — that's why it must be done."
Carlos exhaled slowly. "I know. I have to turn him in. And I'll surrender the documents."
Still, Angelo tried to offer a sliver of solace. "It's the only way. You know that. If it were anyone else's son — you wouldn't hesitate."
He watched him carefully, knowing this wasn't easy for Carlos. The man wasn't just a kingpin in his world — he was a father, which made what would come next almost unbearable.
"I'll go talk to him," Carlos said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked to Angelo one last time, searching for some kind of validation. "For what it's worth — thank you for letting Alejandro go. Maybe there's some good left in all this after all."
*****
Carlos's hand trembled as it gripped the bedroom doorknob. A piece of him had died with every step from his study to Jose's room. He straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and willed his feet to step into the room.
He entered with a force he didn't feel. Shaking the folder in his hand, he mustered every ounce of anger from his body and yelled, "You've disgraced this family, Jose. You live a privileged life, and this is how you repay me?"
Lying comfortably in his bed, Jose didn't flinch. Amusement danced in his eyes as he flashed a cocky grin at his father. "Nice to see you too, Old Man. I'm doing fine, not that you bothered to ask."
"This is not one of your games. You act as if putting our family at risk is a joke. What you did —"
"What I did is prove I am better than you. I assure you that we will be swimming in money. You should be thanking me — kissing my feet." Jose's laughter was shrill, bordering on hysteria.
"Thanking you? You are a bigger fool than I thought. This is not about money. You can't erase the stain you've left on this family's name."
Still unfazed by his father's anger, Jose leans back on the pillows, smiling. "Come on, old man. You should be proud. Or is it too difficult to accept that I am not like you — I am better."
Carlos clenched his fists, shaking his head in frustration as he paced the room. "I wanted you to be better than me, but this is not the way. You are nothing but a reckless fool."
Ignoring his father, he asked, "Where's Alejandro? I must thank him for following my plan and bringing the papers. He wants a few extra dollars, I suppose."
Carlos stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he studied his arrogant son. "Your friend — has been taken care of."
Jose's smirk faded. His eyes flashed with anger. "What the hell does that mean? Only I can decide what Alejandro does and doesn't do — he is not your friend."
"Friend! To you, he is a puppet, a toy to amuse you. Nothing more."
"Alejandro understands me."
"Does he? Did he know you sent him into the lion's den without a plan?"
"I gave him a plan. He just needed to follow what I told him to do, and as you see, he must have done just that because you have the papers in your hand. I'll take them — now."
Carlos's gaze hardened, his voice cold and filled with a sense of finality Jose had never heard from him before. "You'll never get these papers, Jose. I won't let you destroy our family, not for greed. The papers are going back to where they belong. It's time for you to be a man."
Jose's sneer deepened, his hand twitching beneath the sheets. 'You never understood, old man. I'll prove to you how small you are, how I've already won.' And then, from beneath the sheets, the gun appeared. "Father, I'm sorry it has come to this."
A second of confusion flickered across Carlos's face as he stared at his son and the gun pointed at him. Before he could react, a shot rang out, mixed with Jose's high-pitched laughter. Carlos stumbled, clutching his side as blood seeped through his fingers. Gasping for breath, he collapsed against the edge of the bed before his body hit the floor with a heavy thud. For a moment, everything froze.
Then, like a slow-motion movie, the door swung open, slamming against the wall. Two of Carlos's men with guns drawn rushed into the room. One look at Carlos's body crumpled on the floor, covered in blood, and their weapons fired. Jose slumped against the pillows — his chest riddled with bullets.
Maria was frantic as she rushed down the hallway. Her hands flew to her mouth as she whispered, "Oh, Dios mio! Senor Carlos!"
A bodyguard, his voice filled with agony, muttered, "Maria, call an ambulance —"
But Angelo heard none of it. He was on his knees next to Carlos, hands trembling as he pressed against the bleeding wound. The sight of his friend's lifeless eyes hit him like a punch to the gut. His voice cracked, "Carlos, stay with me, please —"
Carlos blinked, his face pale. "Angelo — the papers — take them. Don't — let him — have them," he rasped, each word a struggle. "Go! Leave —before it's — too late."
Angelo's heart pounded in his chest, his mind reeling. "I'm not leaving you here, Carlos. You can make it — hold on!"
His voice was barely audible, his eyes watery, and he mumbled, "It's too late for me. You must go."
Angelo shook his head as tears blurred his vision. "I can't leave you — not like this."
"You — must."
Choking back his emotions, he squeezed Carlos's hand, knowing his shallow breathing was probably his last, and whispered, "Hasta que nos veamos de nuevo." (Until we meet again.)
Behind him, the bodyguards exchanged uneasy glances, and one stepped forward, grabbing Angelo by the arm. "Senor Angelo," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Come. You must go before the policia arrive."
Angelo hesitated, his heart breaking as Carlos's hand slipped from his grasp, but he knew he had no choice. He glanced one last time at his friend's lifeless form, his body cold and still on the floor.
His steps were hurried but unsteady as he made his way out of the villa. The once-grand halls now echoed with the chaos and violence of the evening. The distant wail of sirens grew louder as they approached.
Angelo reached the front door, pushing it open with a forceful shove. The cool night air hit him like a slap. He made it to the waiting limo, his breath ragged gasps. As he turned for one last look at the villa, his eyes were drawn to the windows of the study and the bedroom, where he had spent his last moments with Carlos.
With a heavy heart, he slid into the back of the limo, the door shutting behind him with a final click. The driver started the engine, and the car pulled away from the villa.
The plane was ready for takeoff, the engines already rumbling. Angelo barely noticed the bustling activity around him as he boarded. He sank into his seat with a heavy sigh.
As the plane began ascent, he gazed out of the window, watching the villa shrink. The lights of the mansion twinkled a haunting goodbye.
Danielle "Danni" Delahanty -- Ghost Detective
Eleanor Bennett -- Beloved Ghost Advisor
Matthew Donatelli -- Detective
Jenna Bradford -- Journalist and Pageant Consultant
Naomi Henderson -- Lawyer/ex-lover of Donatelli -
Arthur Beckett - deceased lawyer, friend, and enemy of Naomi
Patti Beckett - ex-wife from a nasty divorce
Hilda - a pageant contestant and medical researcher
Klaus - Hilda's older brother and protector
Johan - a supposed friend of Hilda's family with a connection to Jose
Angelo Carter - a private investigator with a dark side
Carlos Hernandez - a Mexican landowner with power
Jose Hernandez - Carlos's son - a reckless playboy
Alejandro - Jose's childhood friend
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent
Tango and Poppa - FBI agents under Garth
Allie - his love who died of cancer (an investigative reporter)
Dr. Rosa Galotti -- Morgue Medical Examiner
Emily - Jenna's faithful assistant
Lila - a pageant contestant who was murdered for her research
Thomas Whitaker - Lila's father
Sophia - Lila's sister (blind)
Max - Sophia's best friend and guide dog
Pays
10 points
and 82 member cents
(and maybe more). Eleanor Bennett -- Beloved Ghost Advisor
Matthew Donatelli -- Detective
Jenna Bradford -- Journalist and Pageant Consultant
Naomi Henderson -- Lawyer/ex-lover of Donatelli -
Arthur Beckett - deceased lawyer, friend, and enemy of Naomi
Patti Beckett - ex-wife from a nasty divorce
Hilda - a pageant contestant and medical researcher
Klaus - Hilda's older brother and protector
Johan - a supposed friend of Hilda's family with a connection to Jose
Angelo Carter - a private investigator with a dark side
Carlos Hernandez - a Mexican landowner with power
Jose Hernandez - Carlos's son - a reckless playboy
Alejandro - Jose's childhood friend
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent
Tango and Poppa - FBI agents under Garth
Allie - his love who died of cancer (an investigative reporter)
Dr. Rosa Galotti -- Morgue Medical Examiner
Emily - Jenna's faithful assistant
Lila - a pageant contestant who was murdered for her research
Thomas Whitaker - Lila's father
Sophia - Lila's sister (blind)
Max - Sophia's best friend and guide dog
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