Cross-Over Murders by Frank F. Atanacio Chapter Tewenty-one

Chapter Twenty-One

Roman Deharte sat in the cafeteria located on the first floor of Bridgeport Hospital. He was sipping coffee and having a conversation with Nick Barnum.
“So you didn’t catch him yet?” he asked.
“Nope,” Nick replied. “And I’m not going to lie to you. We haven’t even got anything tangible on him yet. However, that doesn’t mean a thing. We can find something right away, or it may just take a little longer.”
“Is that normal?”
“Nothing’s normal, my friend.”
“I should have listened to my aunts and uncles,” he said not hiding his sadden expression. “They told me not to take him with me. They told me if I had to go, that I should have made the trip alone. I had no right taken my little brother. Not me, I wanted to be a grown man. I wanted to take the lead role in my household. I didn’t want to feel like less of a man knowing that Castro makes the decisions. I wanted a mind of my own, and look what it has gotten me.”
“A mind of your own,” Nick added.
“I don’t even have a piece of mind,” he said taking another sip of his coffee and staring into nothingness directly in front of him. “Not a piece.”
Nick nodded.
“I was just so tired of being treated like a second class citizen back home,” he half whispered. “We were like unwanted refugees bleated in fear as they herded us into large camps separating the weak from the strong. It was a nightmare, but many of us got use to it. It was our nightmare.”
“You choose your words carefully,” Nick said.
“I have read many books back home,” he said. “I am intelligent, but I couldn’t express that at home. My accent may be heavy, but my words are precise.”
Nick nodded.
“I come here,” he took a deep breath. “And what I get is a dead brother, and no conviction.”
“You tried to commit suicide,” Nick said. “You gave up on everything.”
“My brother was my life!”
“So you end yours to make up for it?”
“It’s what I do.”
“Making stupid decisions, for an intelligent man?”
“My brother died here in the states!”
“And your mother and father?” Nick asked. “Where did they die?”
Roman looked down into his cup.
“Well?”
He did not answer.
“I didn’t think you had an answer for that. You can’t have it both ways. Either you shit there or here!” Nick shouted. “Do you understand me?”
He nodded slowly.
“I’m just pointing out the simple fact that death can occur anywhere, at anytime,” Nick continued. “There’s nothing we can do about it. Whether you are here or in Cuba, there’s nothing you can do about it. Life isn’t a guarantee, but death is.”
“Life is a choice!” Roman shouted.
“Than why didn’t you choose to live your life for him?” Nick half shouted. “You have to want this for him. We will catch that son of a bitch, and you have to want us to. You need to see this through. I’m telling you Roman, When they let you out and you commit suicide, I’ll kill you.”
“I’ll be dead already,” he chuckled.
“Doesn’t matter, I’ll still find away to kick the shit out of you, do I make myself clear?”
He nodded slowly.
“When do you get out?”
He looked directly into Nick’s eyes and said,” today.”
“Today?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have a place to stay?”
“My friend.”
Nick nodded.
“Hey,” Roman started calmly. “Thank you for pulling me out of the water.”
“Living is better, right?”
He smiled.
“Oh,” Nick said as he reached into his front pocket and took out some money and slapped it on the table directly in front of Roman. “My wages for two days work.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“It’s yours, sixty four dollars and seventy- four cents,” Nick said. “Minus three dollars and eight-cents. I bought a coffee and a doughnut at a gas station.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I promised, and I always keep my promises.”
“Do you promise to catch my brother’s killer?”
Nick hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, I promise.
Roman smiled.
I always keep my promises?
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