“Let’s go.”
All seven officers made a steadfast approach to the front door, spread out behind Yara and William, ready to take action if needed. Five strong knocks on the door, and ten seconds later, no answer.
“Police, open up!” William yelled.
Two of the backup officers started to walk around the house, just in case he tried to flee the scene. As soon as they made it past the brush to the right of the driveway, they heard a noise from the back of the house and spotted him running through his backyard. “He’s on foot!”
Yara grabbed her radio from her holster and called for more backup, as she joined the others in pursuit. He was sure to be surrounded from every possible angle in no time.
Just as he jumped a fence to land in the neighbor’s yard, he stopped just short of their patio. He turned near white as he was staring at something. As the officers approached him, they noticed his face looked like he had seen a ghost.
I’m an angel, you son of a bitch.
The other officers caught up, just as the neighbors stepped outside to see what was going on. “Tony?” The man who lived next door and had likely invited him in for drinks at some point said in shock. Tony was on his knees with his hands behind his back as Yara cuffed him and read him his Miranda rights.
His back door was open, so the officers took it upon themselves to enter. “Police!” One yelled. They walked through a living room first, then into the kitchen. One officer nodded and motioned for the other to go upstairs. “Police, anyone here?” He shouted as he slowly took a stair at a time. “Clear!” He yelled back downstairs after checking every room and every closet.
William walked in to join the crew, and walked into the kitchen. “This house has a basement.” He realized when he was outside. “Where is the door?” They searched the living room and kitchen area but didn’t openly notice a door that wasn’t a closet or pantry.
William stepped over to the refrigerator and noticed it was a bit ajar. “Help me move this.” He and another officer pushed and pulled the massive appliance to the side, revealing a decrepit door behind it.
It was locked and sealed to the point that one of the officers had to fetch an iron crowbar from his squad car. They didn’t hear a sound coming from the basement, but they felt like there would be good reason to search there.
Please hurry, please. He’s down there.
As soon as the door cracked open, they flipped on the light and walked down the stairs, one by one, with William leading.
“Oh my God, call to get an ambulance here immediately!” He shouted orders to the others.
Marco was lying there on the concrete floor with his hands bound by zip ties and duct tape secured over his mouth and head. He had barely any color to his flesh, and appeared to be nearly as dead as I was. William rushed to his side and checked his pulse. “He has a pulse, it’s weak. He’s alive, just barely. Tell the ambulance to hurry!”
William took his army knife out and cut the ties between his hands, Marco’s left arm fell limp to the other side of his right arm. He wanted to finagle the duct tape off his face, but didn’t want to hurt him further or cause any damage before the EMS team arrived.
Minus the blazer, Marco was still dressed in his colorful New Year’s attire. He did not look like he had eaten or had any liquids in weeks, his skin was sallow and so dry he had visible flaked sores. William shouted a second time, “They need to hurry!”
The officers were upstairs working hard to move the refrigerator further out of the way to create a clear path for the first responders. As soon as the medical team arrived, they ran through the house and to the basement as fast as they could, equipped with a stretcher and a trauma bag.
They carefully rolled Marco from his side and his legs made a cracking sound. “Easy,” they started a fluid drip then lifted him to the stretcher. As soon as they loaded him into the ambulance, they sped away with flashing lights and sounds of urgency. The hospital was just a few minutes away.
Save him, please, please save Marco.
Nurses and doctors were standing by the emergency room door so as soon as the automatic doors slid open, they could tend to Marco and start working to save his life.
***
“Hello?” My dad answered his phone with exhaustion in his voice. He heard a ruckus in the background.
“Mr. Rhodes, this is Yara.”
He sat up on the couch, then leaned over to my mom to tap her arm, awaking her from a light sleep. She, too, perked up with curiosity. “What is it?” He asked.
“We arrested your daughter’s suspected killer, and,” she sighed with a hint of relief in her breath, “we found Marco.”
Dad emerged from the couch and paced. “Is he okay? What happened?”
“He’s in critical condition at Boston General. We found him tied up, starved and left for dead.”
“I’m on my way!” He hung up as fast as he could. “Sue, honey, Marco is alive. They found him. I’m going to the hospital now.”
Mom slowly lifted herself up from her sleeping position, “I’m coming with you.”
Dad quickly ran to the bedroom to change out of his pajamas and into a pair of jeans before racing to the hospital to meet her. Mom didn’t even care to change from her yoga pants, she grabbed her jacket and waited for my dad by the kitchen door.
She looked back at Tahoe, who looked of sadness standing between the kitchen and dining room wondering what was going on and told him they would be back soon.
The cruise to the hospital was going to be about twenty-five minutes, and the entire ride was somber and silent, nerves filled the small space. My mother reached her hand over and placed it on top of my dad’s as it was rested on the gear shifter.
