The attempted murder trial lasted another week. Justice Cooper sentenced Joseph Morelli and Tallulah Johnson to twenty years for conspiracy to commit fraud and another life sentence for first-degree attempted murder. Morelli wouldn't last a week in prison. He also had to serve three years in a federal prison for eavesdropping on an FBI interrogation. The FBI made an example of Morelli to the police officers attempting to insert themselves into an investigation or sharing their unauthorized intelligence with civilians.
Lula should have received a lesser sentence for attempted murder, but the threats she uttered in the cemetery went against her. The evidence of her acting from anger, brandishing an illegal firearm and carrying concealed had sealed the case for the jury. Tallulah Johnson was a threat to my life. If given the chance, she would murder me.
What surprised me the most was that anyone affiliated with Joe and Lula was called into question. The district attorney scrutinized their lives under a microscope. Most people, including Connie and my cousin Vinnie, passed the investigation, meaning they were not involved in the conspiracy to harm me or steal my company and money. Others, such as Anthony and Mooch Morelli, were found guilty of aiding Joe in his scheme. What would Angie say? Frankly, I don't give a damn. The Morelli men made their bed; now they must lie in it.
Benny Gaspick and Gus Chianni were stripped of their badges. I couldn't believe Joe got two of his fellow officers to break the law using their credentials to gain information on my business. Luckily, the bank manager refused to let them view my banking accounts. When Gaspick and Chianni failed to provide a warrant, the manager, Gary Marsden, called the precinct to file a complaint with Chief Jansen. I wasn't surprised the bank manager had also called Joe Juniak, demanding that he fix the issue with the two officers. Marsden wasn't willing to lose my accounts, or Rangeman's for that matter, by complying with the threats from Gaspick and Chianni. Chief Jansen put his officers on paid suspension until the internal affairs department investigated the case. It only took a few days to fire the officers.
I worried that Gaspick and Chianni would come after me. They planned to return home to Chicago to get away from me and the Burg. Nobody would miss them, and they had no reason to visit Trenton.
Hal and I were on the highway, driving to Bozeman, Montana. We wanted the freedom of having our truck in the city. My guards, Hector, Cal, Manny and Junior, follow us. It felt like a damn convoy, but I couldn't be mad. Two people I know have attempted to kill me, after all.
Mom, Dad, Valerie, Albert and the children were flying in Uncle Joe's plane. Technically, Hal and I could have flown, too, but there wasn't enough room for my guards. I refused to let Ranger loan me the Rangeman jet, and Hal didn't want us to take a commercial flight. Hal's reason was understandable. We couldn't take our weapons.
The babies kicked as we drove along the highway. One of them pressed against my bladder. "Hal, we need to stop," I said.
"Is Alex doing somersaults on your bladder?" Hal teased.
"I think Mitch is pushing him into it. She's bossy," I laughed. Hal and I started calling Michelle by Mitch to confuse people about which baby was a girl.
"Just like her mother." I wanted to smack Hal's arm, but I couldn't deny he was right. "The next exit is three miles away. Can you hold on that long?" Hal asked. I know he would stop at the side of the highway if I asked.
"We're good," I answered, smiling. I rubbed my abdomen, and the babies stopped moving as much. It was too early for Hal to feel the babies move. I was only twenty weeks pregnant. My babies were only six inches long.
Hal exited the highway and pulled into the parking lot of McDonald's. I raised my brows, silently asking if we were buying food after using the washroom. Hector suddenly materialized before I could open the door and leaned against it, preventing me from swinging it open.
"Steph, wait," Hal said as he read a message on his phone. "Lula's prison transport van is in the parking area behind the McDonald's. We must wait until they're on the road."
"How did you know she was here?" I asked, looking for the van.
"Rangeman." Hal showed me the message from Lester, warning us about Lula being in the vicinity. Rangeman had access to Lula's leg monitor. I wasn't surprised the courts provided Ranger with that information. He probably had access to Morelli's ankle bracelet, too. His prison transport should leave Trenton in another hour. My only fear was Lula and Joe escaping from their guards.
"Why did they stop?" I asked. Horace said the convict transports would drive straight to the prisons without stopping for food or washroom breaks. What made the van stop at McDonald's?
We heard a weapon discharge a second before Lula ran toward the road. She was looking behind her when she stepped in front of a transport truck. I watched in horror as Lula's voluptuous body bounced off the grill, rippling from the impact, flipping Lula as she tried in vain to right herself. She landed motionless on the road around fifty feet away.
Blood spread beneath Lula's head. Manny went to check on Lula. He felt her neck for a pulse, and with a quick shake of his head, we knew Lula was dead. I felt sad about Lula's death, but she was a dead man walking before her transport to the prison. Lula got off too easy. There was a slight possibility that Lula survived the trauma. My curiosity kept me grounded to the spot. I had to know with one hundred percent certainty that Lula was indeed dead.
"Would they change Morelli's transport?" I asked.
"Not likely," Hal replied. "It takes time and scheduling to organize a transport. Only the highway police and the courts know of the date and time. Except in this case, Rangeman was notified because Lula threatened to escape and come after you."
It made sense, but why does Rangeman know about Morelli's transport? Hector answered what I thought was my silent question, "Eddie and Carl are part of the convoy. Justice Cooper asked Ram and Cal to follow them."
"How the hell do you know?" I asked. I wasn't surprised when Hector showed me the message from Chief Jansen, who wanted to reassure me that I was safe. Between his officers and Rangeman, Joe Morelli couldn't plan an escape.
A black van with the words "Mercer Country Coroner," written in white with a gold outline, stopped on the road. The driver waited until the highway police removed the yellow caution tape to allow entry. I watched the officer secure the caution tape. We had to wait until the highway police opened the highway to continue our trip.
The coroner, a tanned woman with black hair pulled into a ponytail, jumped from the passenger seat and opened the van's sliding door to gather the supplies needed to examine Lula. I watched in fascination as she pulled black latex gloves over her hands. She wore black, and I wondered if the colour choice was to hide any blood she might get on her clothes. Before kneeling beside Lula, the man who drove the van, likely her forensics specialist, photographed everything with ruler markers. He nodded at his boss and continued taking pictures of the crime scene, including the transport truck's grill, where pieces of Lula's hair, which I never noticed before, flapped with the breeze.
When the coroner examined Lula's motionless body, exposing the crushed skull at her temple, I turned to enter McDonald's. Lula was dead. There was no recovery from that injury. Eating was the farthest thought in my mind, but the babies needed the nourishment.
Alex and Mitch rolling on my bladder reminded me about the purpose of stopping at McDonald's. I rushed to the washroom to alleviate the pressing issue, but Hector stopped me from entering until he secured the restroom. Thankfully, it was empty, and I could enter it to empty my bladder.
Hal was leaning against the wall, in his sexy pose, waiting for me to exit the washroom. I smiled at his familiar pose and stepped into his arms when he pushed off the wall. Hal kissed me and tucked my loose hair behind my ears. I closed my eyes, leaned into his touch, and enjoyed the sensation of his calloused thumbs caressing my jaw. He pressed his lips briefly against mine before trailing his hands down my arms to settle on holding my hands.
I opened my eyes to see his eyes overflowing with love for me and our unborn children. Hal released my left hand, keeping my right in his. I entwined our fingers and waited until Hector and Manny exited the men's washroom. Cal and Junior had their turn washing up when we arrived.
My husband was the sweetest man I know. He was always affectionate outside of work. The employees at PTES knew Hal was my husband, but they never commented because Hal and I were always professional. It helped that Javier Santos was Hal's supervisor, and I wasn't involved with the performance reviews. Uncle Vincent and Javier Santos approved his salary and bonuses.
Hal and I went to the counter to order our food. We purchased the chicken sandwiches with fries and milkshakes. I would get hiccups if I drank soda. The other men ordered more food than necessary, but having McDonald's was a rare treat for them. I paid for everyone's meal, which I knew Ranger would reimburse, not that I wanted his money.
"Thanks, Steph," Manny grinned when I stepped away from the counter. I waved off his thanks since I would have done the same if I wasn't wealthy. Hal wrapped his arms around me, placing his hands on my abdomen to cradle our babies.
I smiled when Manny and Hector collected our food when the cashier called our number. Hal took me to a booth in the back, where we could see the two exits. I slid onto the bench, pleased my stomach wasn't protruding too much to fit. You never know with some establishments.
"Do you think Jose would pull that stunt?" Manny asked, referring to Lula's escape and calling Joe by the equivalent Latino name.
"Not with so many witnesses," I replied. "He won't last long in prison, especially not in general population. I heard his lawyer requested solitary confinement when the judge declined the request for him to serve the first part of his sentencing in a Federal Prison Camp. Since Joe is a cop, the judge put him in a supermax, and he'll have to deal with the other criminals, some of whom he put behind bars."
"Who is the worst threat to Jose?" Hector asked.
"Jesse Gilman," I replied after ensuring nobody was eavesdropping. The closest occupied table held two adults and four children; the youngest shrieked when I answered Hector's question.
"Any relationship to Terry?" Hal questioned.
Smiling, I replied, "Jesse is Terry's husband. Word is he isn't impressed with Jose warming Terry's bed. "
"She's still married?"
"Yes, but that isn't the best part," I answered, smirking when the men wore matching confused expressions. Putting them out of their misery, I explained, "Jose testified against Jesse, claiming he was running the drugs when it was really Terry."
"Jose's in a world of hurt if he winds up in Jesse's cell block," Manny said.
I thought Joe would be in more danger in the prison yard. He would need to watch his back. A cop putting an innocent civilian behind bars wouldn't be well received by the other inmates. It would take one well-timed conversation for another inmate to hear about Joe lying on the stand to incarcerate Jesse Gilman and bed his wife.
It wasn't the first time a police officer lied on the stand. Some of the assistant district attorneys coach the officers to say enough of the truth to be believable but lie their asses off, relying on their reputation for the jury to accept the testimony. Horace Gomez refused to participate in that tactic. He trusted his ability to fill the holes caused by the defence lawyer questioning the prosecutor's witnesses.
Proving Morelli falsified his testimony on the stand during the attempted murder case opened the door for previously convicted criminals to appeal the court's decision if the prosecutor used Joe Morelli's testimony to incarcerate them. Jesse Gilman was one of those inmates appealing his case. Some of the men Joe testified against belong in prison. Others, like Jesse Gilman and Benjamin Crouch, were innocent.
Hal's phone chimed. He read the message and showed it to me. Ranger said the interstate reopened, and the county sheriff's office delayed Morelli's departure by an hour. Mooch and Anthony visited Joe before leaving. They slipped him handcuffed keys. Rangeman had two Rangeman Boston employees monitoring the holding cells at Chief Jansen and Mayor Juniak's request.
"Idiots," I laughed. "They deserve to spend a few nights in lockup. What are the charges for attempted escape?"
"Up to a 5000 fine with six months incarceration or a maximum sentence of two years," Manny replied, receiving the same message as Hal. I raised my brows, wondering how Manny knew that about the criminal justice code. "Horace armed us with the information for this contingency. He would prosecute and demand the maximum sentence for the crime."
"What about the prisoner?" I asked, referring to Joe.
"It adds another two years to his sentencing. He will only get out of prison in a body bag."
We approached our respective SUVs, checking for trackers, bugs and bombs. Manny even opened the flap covering the gas caps to search for a fishing line, having learned that trick from Morelli. Finding the vehicles clean, we climbed inside. I texted Ranger, letting him know we were resuming our trip. He asked us to check in at the next stop for my bathroom break.
"Is everything okay back home?" Hal asked.
"Of course. Ranger wants us to check in at every stop. I want to be annoyed that Ranger's monitoring us, but after Lula's escape attempt, I understand why he's concerned. Ranger wants his goddaughter always to be safe," I replied. Hal and I planned to wait until the children were born before assigning godparents.
Hector and Ranger self-appointed themselves as Michelle's godfathers upon learning Hal and I were expecting a boy and a girl. We asked Ram and Lester to be Alexander's godfathers. The men were excited to help us raise the children in the Catholic faith.
Lester and Hector would assume guardianship if anything happened to Hal and me. Ranger would oversee PTES until the children turned twenty-five. I hoped our children wouldn't have to grow up without us, but having a contingency plan was the only way to ensure the right people have our children's best interests in mind.