Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Miguel stepped inside of Maria’s office. It was late and looked as if Sergeant La Guerta was the only one working at the Miami Metro Police Department. Maria’s eyes were still red.
“Miguel? What are you doing here so late?”
Miguel emitted a sigh.
“I didn’t like the way we left things this afternoon.”
Maria shrugged.
“You hated Ellen. I get that.”
“I didn’t hate her per say. But her values were very screwed up.”
“Truth and justice is screwed up, Miguel?”
“I’m not the bad guy here!”
Maria nodded tiredly.
“I know, Miguel. I just don’t see any point in rehashing this. You want to comfort me but you can’t. I mean you’re not sorry she’s dead...not really.”
“Where is that coming from? Ellen was human. Or course I care. Maybe I just don’t show it very well.” Miguel said quietly, trying to sound hurt and offended. Maria bought it. She stood up from her chair and walked over to him.
“I’m sorry.”
Miguel nodded and reached for both of her hands.
“As a matter of fact, I want to be kept in the loop on your investigation. I will do everything I can to prosecute the sonofabitch that did this. So...do you have any leads? Besides Kit McGraw?”
Maria let go of his hands and shook her head.
“I never really believed Quentin Costa’s sister, killed her brother’s defense attorney. That and...”
“What?” Miguel asked.
“I’ve been in contact with Interpol. They have good reason to believe that Kit McGraw is dead.”
Miguel didn’t like the sound of that! He kept up a cool facade.
“Dead? Killed by Costa?”
“No one knows. They’re still trying to identify the remains.”
“Oh. So I guess she couldn’t have killed Ellen...”
“No, Miguel. I mean the idea was kind of preposterous anyway. Women don’t usually kill that way. Plus, she would’ve had to have had a lot of strength to lug Ellen through a graveyard...not to mention beating, strangling and stabbing her. We can tell a man did that.”
“Well...Maria...if Kit McGraw used a wheelbarrow it’s possible, right?”
Maria looked at Miguel as if he had lost his mind!
“Miguel! Come on! Even you must know how far fetched that sounds!”
Miguel was about to counter when his cellphone rang. He pulled it out of his suit pocket and looked at the Caller I.D..
Dexter.
“It’s Syl. I have to get going. I’ll come by tomorrow for an update on the search for Freebo...and the skinner case, okay?”
Maria nodded as Miguel walked out of her open door. He moved quickly towards the elevator as he answered.
“What?”
“Miguel, how is it that you have so many women? I mean granted I’m not gay, but you don’t come across as that smooth.”
“What do you want, Dexter? Did you rethink my offer to break The Carver out of jail and kill him?”
“No...I’ve already told you that we’re not compatible as a team.”
“And I think that we are.” Miguel disagreed.
“I wonder if Michelle Landau would agree with that assessment. She looks...actually pretty good in all of this saran wrap. She should wear it all of the time.” Dexter quipped. He then knew by Miguel’s silence, that he had finally gotten his attention.
Miguel stepped into the elevator and watched the doors close. He then cleared his throat.
“And just where could I find Mrs. Landau in this ‘saran wrap’?”
“Don’t you mean, ‘Mrs. Prado’?”
“Don’t lay a hand on her, Dexter! Or I will turn you in myself!”
“I hope you’re ready to turn yourself in then.”
There was a silence. Dexter broke it.
“1600 Westerbrook Lane. The house is almost built.” Dexter said before hanging up. Miguel hung up, put away his phone and massaged his temples.
****
When Miguel reached the community of newly built homes that no one was living in yet, he found the proper address and pulled into the drive. He saw Dexter’s SUV around the side of the home.
He got out and walked in, until he saw a small flicker of candlelight coming from the room that would probably be someone’s family room when the house was finished. Miguel stepped in to find Dexter yawning. Michelle was out like a light on a circular table that Dexter spun around, most likely for his own entertainment. Michelle was strapped down to it, naked, save for the saran wrap that held her down. Over on the side shelves, was a picture of the late Burt Landau.
Miguel stopped the table from spinning just as Michelle’s head was near his hand.
“What is this, Dexter?”
“A warning. I gave her enough of the drug that she need not ever wake up...here.”
“And then what? Hmm, Dexter? It looks like you’ve broken your own code. Michelle is an innocent!”
“I know that your real wife, girlfriend or whatever Mrs. Landau is to you, has a shady past. She’s stolen kidneys and some have gone so far as to say that she might have killed her husband, Burt Landau. So I’d be well within my rights in killing her.”
“Michelle didn’t kill her husband. He just died.”
“Right...”
“He was old, Dexter!” Miguel snapped. “But let’s just say that Michelle did kill him. IF she did, she was driven to it!”
“Really? How?”
“It’s very stressful f**k**g someone that old, Dexter! Michelle couldn’t take it anymore, snapped and killed him!” Miguel hissed, his dark eyes glittering with hatred for Dexter.
Dexter grinned!
“You can have her, Miguel. But our association IS through. And you’re going to stay away from La Guerta as well.”
“What do you mean?” Miguel asked. He had begun disentangling Michelle from the table.
“Exactly what I said. Stay away from her. Stop trying to pick her brain for information on Ellen Wolf’s murder.”
“And let her find me out?”
“Stay away from her.” Dexter repeated. Miguel said nothing. This puta wasn’t going to tell him what to do. And he now had an idea as to how he was going to get Dexter back for what he had been pulling lately. Once he freed Michelle, Miguel picked her up in his arms and looked at Dexter.
“Her clothes?”
“Sorry. I threw them off a bridge. I didn’t think she’d be needing them again.”
“You fu...” Miguel began then stopped himself. He carried Michelle out to his car, and managed to open the front passenger side door. He arranged her in the seat, placing a seat belt on her. He then hurried around to the driver’s side and got in.
“That MUTH*****UCK**** PUTA AZZ****!” Miguel snarled as he backed the car out quickly, then sped down the street. First Dexter let Ellen Wolf be found, putting his very freedom at stake! Then he stole the wedding ring he stole off of Ellen Wolf! He had no doubt Dexter was going to try and implicate him with it! And now he was going to try and block him from trying to get information from Maria?
This was between himself and Dexter. Both of them could not live with what they knew. Miguel decided that Dexter was going to be the one that should take their secret to his grave.
****
Michelle woke up the next day and coughed! Something had been in her mouth! Michelle looked at what she spit out in bed. What the hell was that? Some kind of plastic?
The door to her bedroom opened and Miguel walked in carrying a tray. Her terrace doors were open and a hot breeze was wafting in.
“Good morning, my sweet. I had your maid fix breakfast. There’s toast and...”
Michelle tuned him out as she looked down at herself. She was wearing a teddy she used to wear for Christian that she swore she would never wear again! Why hadn’t she burned this thing? And why had she worn it to bed last night?
“Where did you come from?” Michelle asked.
“What do you mean?” Miguel asked, spreading jelly on the toast.
“I mean I went to bed alone last night...no...I didn’t go to bed...I don’t remember...”
“I came by and you were drunk.”
“Drunk? Why?”
“Only you can answer that. I assumed you got some bad news.” Miguel lied. “Look, I have a meeting tonight. Maybe we can meet for lunch, okay? I’ll call you.” he said, touching her face before getting up off the bed and leaving the room. Michelle pushed the tray aside and got up on wobbly legs. She put a robe on and walked out to the terrace, the light hurting her eyes. She could see Miguel get into his vehicle and drive off. Michelle stood and watched his retreating car, before stumbling back into her bedroom.
Something was wrong. Her last memories of the other night were of....
Michelle rubbed her neck. Something was sore on it. She walked over to a mirror, moved her hair aside and peered at what was irritated. That was a needle mark! That was it! She had felt some kind of pain in her neck before...nothing.
Had The Carver escaped and come here to...she didn’t feel as if she had been assaulted. But she knew she had been drugged. And Miguel knew it too.
Michelle stumbled over to her television set and turned it onto a news station. She saw nothing that said anything about Quentin Costa escaping.
But there was a report saying that some remains in France had turned out to be Kit McGraw’s. France? Then she couldn’t have killed Ellen Wolf. And if Quentin was still locked up...
Who had broken into her house and drugged her last night? Michelle shook her head wildly. She was going to drink plenty of coffee then go and see Miguel.
****
Michelle couldn’t seem to get ahold of Miguel at all. She called his office only to be told he would be in court all day. She called his cell and kept getting his voice mail. Obviously, he was a busy man but after what happened last night, the whole thing felt more like avoidance.
It was no use. She couldn’t work. Maybe it would be up to her to find out just what happened to her. She stood up, picked up her purse and was about to walk towards the door when it opened, and Miguel stepped in. He closed the door behind him.
“Your secretary was away.” Miguel said.
Michelle nodded and tossed her purse into a chair.
“Probably a smoke break. Well, I see you decided to stop avoiding me.”
“I have not been avoiding you. I was in court most of the day.”
There was a silence. One that Michelle finally broke.
“I want to know what really happened last night. I found a needle mark on my neck! You know who attacked me, don’t you?”
Miguel moved forward to rest his hands on her shoulders.
“You were not attacked.”
“Then what happened? And please don’t tell me I was drunk again! I’m not buying that, Miguel!”
“Okay, okay. Listen to me: I want you to leave town for awhile.”
Somehow, Michelle found that statement worse than any revelation she had been waiting to hear.
“What?” she asked softly.
“Leave town. I know...go to Vegas. I’ll reserve our special room...the honeymoon suite we had that night...I’ll meet you there tomorrow night.” Miguel promised, trying to reassure her. But Michelle felt hot tears of fright spill down her cheeks!
“Miguel, please...just tell me what’s wrong...I can help...it’s Ellen Wolf isn’t it? You killed her...I had a dream about it...”
Miguel placed a finger over her lips.
“Someone knows,” he said, not answering the accusation directly, “and that person threatened to take it out on you.”
“So....I don’t understand this person drugged me and what?”
“Took you somewhere.”
“This mother***uck*r took me out of my house?! Tell me who he is, Miguel! Tell me!” Michelle demanded, now yanking on his tie. But Miguel gently removed her hands and held them.
“Listen to me, by tomorrow night, no one will know anything, alright? I’ll make the arrangements for our special room. Okay? Just go to Las Vegas and everything will be alright. Everyone that needs to be dealt with, will be.”
He wasn’t going to tell her any more, Michelle thought. And if he wanted to send her to Vegas, then whomever had broken into her home and kidnapped her, was no joke. She nodded and moved her lips up towards his to a bestow a gentle kiss on them. She then reached up and wiped lipstick off of him.
“We wouldn’t want Syl to see this.”
“Syl and I are separated.” he said in a low voice. Michelle raised a brow.
“What? Why?”
“She thinks I’m having an affair with Maria La Guerta. She saw me outside of her house and jumped to conclusions...it was a big mistake.”
Michelle folded her arms.
“Was it?”
“Oh come on, Michelle! You can’t possibly think...”
Michelle held up her hands in surrender.
“Never mind. It’s none of my business. If you want me to meet you in Vegas, in our old room...then I will.” Michelle smiled. Miguel pulled her into a kiss.
“We’ll set the bed on fire, my sweet.” he whispered, just as a sharp knock on the door caused the two lovers to jump back away from one another. Carrie opened the door and looked startled to see Miguel there. Michelle covered.
“Mr. Prado was just updating me on The Carver situation.” Michelle lied. Carrie seemed to accept that explanation.
“Dr. Kastor wants to talk to you about a consult.”
Michelle nodded and Carrie turned and left the office, leaving the door open. Miguel kissed her hand.
“Vegas.” he whispered. Michelle nodded then watched him leave her office. She forced herself to ignore the feelings of doom that ran throughout her body.
She shouldn’t have ignored them. For this would be the last time she would see Miguel Prado alive.
****
Michelle landed in Vegas the next night at 7:55 P.M. She and Miguel had not made arrangements to travel together, so she assumed he would already be at the Montecito Hotel Casino when she checked in.
He was not.
After polishing off a bottle of champagne, Michelle fell asleep for an hour, then awoke to find that Miguel had still not checked in. Michelle got up, took a shower, changed and went down to the casino bar and had another drink.
One of the pit boss’s, a Black woman from the U.K. named Nessa Holt, joined her. She peered at Michelle.
“I don’t mean to be rude, luv, but you look awful.”
Michelle began to cry! Nessa looked around, then patted her shoulder.
“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean it! It’s just that...”
“He’s not coming.” Michelle whispered, wiping her eyes.
“Who’s not coming?”
Michelle looked Nessa in the eye.
“My husband. Something is wrong.”
Nessa was totally confused!
“Okay, your husband was supposed to meet you here and he’s a little late. He’ll be here I’m sure.”
“He sent me here to protect me from something at home. He said everything would be alright but I should’ve known better. He’s not here because he can’t be here.” Michelle said with a knowledge that oddly enough, calmed her. There was no panic. Miguel Prado, her first husband, lover and friend...a man who had never judged her, was dead. She was as sure of that, as she was that the sun would appear the next day.
“Look, maybe I can get security to help you? Let me contact someone.” Nessa suggested in a soft voice. But Michelle finished her drink and wiped her eyes again.
“No. I’m leaving. I have a funeral to get ready for.” Michelle said, paying for her drink and walking away. She got into the elevators and went back up into her room. She opened the door and grabbed her suitcase off of the floor. She then looked around sadly, tears welling up again. The room didn’t look much different from when she and Miguel had been here before.
If only she hadn’t left him in the middle of the night and met Burt. How would things have ended between them then? Or would they have ended? Would Miguel have honored their marriage?
Michelle packed and gave the room one final look, before opening the door to go downstairs to check out.
****
TWO DAYS LATER
Michelle sat in a back pew at a Miguel’s funeral service. The casket was open and she could see him laid out. She knew if she went up there she would break down.
The news media had said that he had been strangled by the Skinner. Michelle took a deep breath. No. The Skinner had not done this. Whomever had kidnapped her a few nights ago, had killed Miguel. Her Miguel.
Michelle could see Sylvia Prado sobbing up in front. A man Michelle vaguely recognized at Miguel’s brother, Ramon, threw that guy Dexter, and some blonde woman that came with him, out of the church! Michelle stared after them for a bit, thinking the whole altercation seemed strange, before returning her gaze to the front of the church. She longed to go up there and say her own, private goodbye. She should say something to Sylvia too. Burt had always liked her.
Michelle stood up and made her way to the front, trying desperately to keep her eyes off of the casket. Who did this to you, Miguel? Who were you trying to protect me from?
Sylvia looked up when she saw Michelle standing in front of her. There was another woman next to her, and Michelle nodded to her before addressing the woman Miguel called ‘Syl’.
Sylvia Prado blinked a few times as she stared at Michelle.
“Michelle Landau...it’s been too long. I heard about poor Burt.” she sniffed. Michelle smiled wanly at her.
“I had to come, Sylvia. What happened? The news is saying they think this serial killer ‘The Skinner’, killed him?”
“The police think so too. They know who he is, it’s just a matter of finding the murdering bastard!” Sylvia hissed, then began to cry again. Michelle looked down. Miguel and Sylvia had been separated. She couldn’t imagine the regrets running through this poor woman’s mind.
Michelle’s eyes strayed over to Miguel and she found herself walking towards his casket. He was dressed in a black suit. Sylvia joined her.
“He looks so peaceful, doesn’t he?”
No, Michelle thought. He doesn’t look peaceful. He looks like he’s been murdered by some mo**er**cker! And she wasn’t about to stand around and do nothing. The Skinner didn’t kill Miguel. Because then that would mean he was the one that had kidnapped her. And he didn’t let his victims live.
Or was it possible that Miguel had been in more trouble than he let on? Maybe he was killed by The Skinner and the person that kidnapped her was a separate issue? Michelle realized she couldn’t live like this. She had to know what happened.
Something hit her just then. Michelle looked at Sylvia.
“Miguel was a pretty big guy...did this man accost him while he was driving or something?”
Sylvia sniffed delicately.
“No...Miguel was jogging. I guess near the Marriott where he was staying.”
Michelle looked at Miguel’s form. Did that mean his vehicle was still at the hotel? And if it was, was his GPS recorder inside?
Michelle touched Sylvia’s hand.
“If there’s anything you ever need, don’t hesitate to call. Burt really liked you and Miguel.”
Sylvia nodded and her tears fell freely again. Ramon put an arm around her and steered her away from the casket. Michelle looked at Miguel’s sleeping face for one last time, before turning and walking out of the church.
****
Michelle drove to the Marriott Hotel that Miguel had been staying at when he died. He had once called her from his room, so she called the number back. A clerk had answered in a way that gave the location of this particular hotel.
She drove around a bit, being careful to stay out of the way of the valets. She found some parking around the side that didn’t look legal. She parked in a spot anyway, put on a pair of black gloves and jumped out of her own SUV. Michelle knew that it would be just a matter of time before her car was spotted and towed. Or worse yet the police were called.
She walked around a bit, trying to look as if she belonged, her eyes searching for Miguel’s vehicle. What if the police had taken it already?
Michelle walked around another corner of the hotel and spotted Miguel’s black SUV! She recognized his license plate as she moved closer to it, looking around. Michelle licked her lips, hoping against hope for an unlocked door.
She looked around again before peering in the through the windows. They were slightly tinted but she could still see a little. The GPS Recorder was sitting in a sunken in cup holder near the gears. Michelle looked around again and tried the driver’s side. Locked.
She hurried around to the passenger side and found that locked as well. Panicking, she tried the back doors and was similarly disappointed. Michelle was not the window breaking type. Yes, she could cut kidneys out of unconscious people, but she refused to break a window with her hand.
She looked around again and noted that one of the windows in the back was not rolled all the way up. Michelle reached both hands through the space and pushed down with all of her might. The window slowly slid down, enough for her to reach her arm though and unlock the door.
Michelle looked around again, opened the door, climbed in and reached up towards the front, grabbing the GPS Recorder. She then climbed back out of the vehicle, slammed the door and walked back towards her illegally parked vehicle. She would take this back to her office and connect it with her laptop to find out just where Miguel and herself were the night she was kidnapped.
****
Michelle had told Carrie to hold all of her calls. She was staring at an address on her laptop: 1600 Westerbook Lane. Where was that?
There was one sharp knock, then Carrie stepped in. Michelle closed her laptop and watched as her secretary handed her a FedEX package. She murmured a ‘thank-you’, then watched as Carrie left, closing the door behind her. Michelle stood up and opened the box, reaching her hand inside.
It was a DVD and one tiny cassette tape. Michelle walked over to the DVD player on top of her television and pressed ‘open’. She then slid the DVD in while eyeing the small cassette in her palm. This looked like one of those tapes that went in a voice automated recorder.
The sound of Miguel’s voice almost made her jump! Michelle turned her attention to the television, where Miguel Prado suddenly seemed so alive. Michelle dropped into a chair and stared at his image on screen.
“If you’re watching this, then I’m dead. Murdered. Murdered by Dexter Morgan.”
Miguel’s DVD lasted for almost forty-five minutes. Michelle digested all that he had told her about Dexter and what he had done, and what Miguel SUSPECTED he had done. But it was his final words to her that would tear at the fibers in her mind.
“Michelle, don’t go after him. I have provided a cassette where in which I recorded a few of my conversations with Dexter. You use this ONLY if you find yourself in trouble. Legal trouble. I know you, my sweet. Trouble always seems to find you. And if the authorities ever tied you to that kidney ring, you will need leverage to stay out of prison. This is it. Michelle...DON’T confront Dexter Morgan. If he ever suspects you know anything about him, he will finish the job he attempted that night. Keep what I’ve given you in a safe place and...and I lied to you when I said I got that divorce. I didn’t. We’re still married. I wish you hadn’t left me to marry Burt. But what was done, was done. Live well and take care of yourself. I love you and always will.”
The DVD then cut off and Michelle had to steady her breathing so that her crying didn’t carry out to Carrie. She sniffed and walked over to her desk, then dropped into the chair and closed her eyes.
First she had to find the right type of recorder to listen to this tape. Next...that little looking Opie looking bastard had killed her man! Her husband! And Miguel was telling her to let him get away with it???
Hell no.
No.