The Biggest Loser Of All Time

"Do you have my $25,000?"

"Yes, I've got it with me now. I can meet you now. What about my request?" I hoped for the best.

"6th and Dixie, 2pm, don't be one second late" click.

That was a new address to me I told the agents. Perhaps this was good news. Someone looked in a file and looked up shaking his head up and down, yes Rubio was known to frequent that location. We may have lucked out.

To say that I was nervous would be a lie; I was stone cold petrified. Visions of a gun battle raged in my head, with me in the crosshairs. What kind of cesspool did I fall in with my arrogance? I was hoping to get through this without defecating in my pants.

On the drive over to the location, agents Stanford and Bentley were going over final instructions with me. Once I had handed the money over and gotten out of the building safely, they would swarm in and make the arrests. My testimony could be important, but they felt their tax evasion charge would trump the others and I may not be needed, which of course I wanted to hear.

Pulling up to the bar/club I noticed a man enter just as we were pulling up. I was told that he was a front man, someone to case the place out and be in place as my first line of defense. If it got ugly, he had orders to take them out.

Swallowing hard to calm my nerves, I got set to go. Grabbing the duffel bag, I entered the club and headed over to the bar, where I spotted the undercover agent on the far end already with a beer. I walked up to the bartender like I was a bad dude and asked for Marcus. He glanced at my bag and head pointed me to the back of the room and to a staircase.

Heading back, I passed the agent who just stared ahead, not recognizing me and started up the stairs. Reaching the top there was a hallway with a large tattooed guy standing at a doorway. As I came upon him, he frisked me roughly from the neck down to my calves and turned and opened the door.

Inside it was dimly lit and I could see several people in various places in the room. I spotted Marcus behind a desk and that creep, Zippy. Also standing against the wall was the other asshole that had been at my house. Another man sat in a chair across the room with an obvious bodyguard next to him. Even further back in the shadows, appeared the silhouette of a woman smoking a long cigarette. In hindsight, I really could not tell what sex the person was, that part of the room was just to dark.

Marcus motioned me forward and to sit. The appearance I was to make was of a guy wanting to make a statement, but also scared shitless, if that was possible. I had the shitless part down solid. After I sat, Marcus motioned for Zippy to grab the bag which he did. After a few awkward seconds, Zippy nodded and passed the bag to the bodyguard of the other man, who I now sensed to be the elusive Rubio.

Allowing Marcus to light a new cigar, he gazed and me and started to speak.

"Alright, I have senior management here, what's on your mind?" he asked.

"Marcus, I began, I don't know why this happened. I thought I was doing everything the way you asked. You never told me the new minimum was 20K so I assumed I was making the old 5K wager. I never intended for this to get out of hand and I never wanted my family involved. Tell me how we can avoid this in the future?"

The man I assumed was Rubio spoke next.

"I can see how upsetting this is for you. It looks like we have a simple misunderstanding here, something that can be handled better" he stated.

As I gazed at Rubio, he was somewhat older, maybe 60 or so, with an ugly scar across his forehead. Like Marcus, he was dressed well and could have passed for an attorney or other respected businessman.

Rubio continued, "You have been a good customer and we appreciate your patronage, but you have to understand in our business, collections are paramount. In most cases we don't deal with people like you that pay up, so we have to make them pay. I tell you, to help you with your issues at home; I'll send a nice bouquet of flowers to your wife and express our apologies for the misunderstanding. How's that sound?

I was flabbergasted; I didn't expect this reaction at all. I almost felt bad for the sting that was about to happen, since this Rubio chap came across so cool.

I did have my legs crossed so the bugged shoe could capture all the talk. It was odd looking as I spun around in this position to front both Rubio and Marcus. I looked at Marcus, trying to keep him on the friendly side and asked if he was ok with this.

Marcus responded bluntly, "Mr. Rubio speaks for us all"

It was clear then that this was the elusive Rubio wanted by the FBI and others.

I then turned to Rubio and said," I thank you for your understanding and I want to assure you that I would like to continue our business relationship on this fresh start. I understand your business practices better now and I assure you this will never happen again"

"Good, very good, said Rubio. Go home, kiss the wife and have some makeup sex that always helps clear the air." His people all chuckled at that line.

As I was getting up to leave, I still could not make out the shadowy figure in the back but it was moving toward a rear exit. Zippy, with that idiotic look about him, led me to the door and let me out. I headed down the stairs as fast as I could, and then on cue, my front man dropped some matches on the floor which both he and I went to pick up. This is when I was to give him information.

I whispered "One at the door, 5 inside, including Marcus and Rubio"

Once upright, I headed straight for the door quickly, passing about 10 agents storming in with guns drawn telling people to stand still. Looking back as I exited, several were charging up the staircase.

I was out of sight in a tinted suburban when the first people were let out in cuffs. It started with the door guard; it took two officers to escort him because of his size. Then good old Zippy that scrawny pimple of a man almost being dragged out and appeared he was whimpering. Finally the charming Rubio and Marcus came out, expressionless, but a swagger that they were still in charge and showcasing we'll be right back attitude.

Agent Stanford came to the vehicle I was in and quickly sat inside.

"That's it. We got them all and confiscated the money. We'll let the courts decide now. Good job everyone" he said.

"How many did you pickup?" I inquired.

"We got all 5" Stanford responded.

"But there were 6. The figure in the shadow that I couldn't make out if male or female"

"It's ok Stanford tried to reassure me. The main players are in custody, the other person is small fry. As long as we have Rubio and the bonus of Marcus, we will have crushed this organization"

It was then back to the FBI offices for the arduous paperwork and report phase of this operation. This went on late into the night; during this time I called Billy my neighbor's, wife and asked to speak with my wife and daughter. I told them everything was all right to come home and I would explain the whole mess tonight. I calmed her by down by saying the guys in our house that night were going to prison and wouldn't bother us again. We said our I love you's and would see each other later.

We were almost finished with everything close to 9pm, when Billy walked in and said he just got off shift and he would drive me home if I needed it, plus his wife called, my wife and kid were back in the house safe and sound, waiting. I wasn't so sure I could speak with them just yet; Billy noticed that in me and suggested we stop for a drink on the way home. I agreed readily.

At the bar, Billy and I discussed the day's events; I thanked him continually for his help and understanding. Billy said his dad was an alcoholic so he fully understood the damage that an addiction can cause. We downed a number of beers and lost track of time, suddenly realizing it was after midnight.

We pulled up Billy's car to my house; all three cars were there, the house fully dark. It was after 1am, I assumed everyone had gone to bed. This was even better, I wouldn't have to talk tonight and open up with a clear head in the morning. I said my goodnights to Billy and told him to thank his wife as well, and proceeded up the walk.

I tried to be as quiet as possible and entered the house without noise. It was eerily quiet, but hey, everyone was asleep. Usually we have a nightlight in the hallway, tonight it was out, better check the tiny bulb in the morning, I surmised.

Our bedroom door was open; I could see the outline of my wife lying in bed. I undressed as quietly as possible, went into the master bath brushed my teeth silently and went to bed. Sliding in softly to not disturb the wife, I became aware that there was no sound. Normally my wife while sleeping, does this mini snore by blowing air out of her mouth, kind of like blowing out birthday candles. Maybe she took a sleeping pill and that put her really out I thought.

Trying to get comfortable, I tossed and turned a little, never disturbing the wife. My hand reached near her form and I felt something damp and then wet. Maybe she was sweating or that dam cat of ours pissed in the bed again, something she was known to do. I felt around a little more and it was wet over a large area and cold to the touch.

I then remembered I needed to take a piss, so I got out of bed. In the master toilet I flicked on the light, and started to relieve myself; looking down my eyes widened, my hand holding my dick was red, blood red. Shocked that I may have cut myself, I examined my hand and found no cut. This was not my blood.

I stumbled back into the bedroom, turned on the overhead light and had the most crushing shock and horror of my life. My wife was lying on her stomach, hand to the floor, blood everywhere, but especially by her head. Blood splatter was on the walls, headboard and throughout the bed itself. Reeling, I fell backward into the wall, which kept me from falling down. There was so much blood; I just knew she was dead.

With emotions running off the chart, I remembered my daughter in her room. Racing with what felt like heavy legs, I got to her door and opened it. Turning on the lights, I bellowed out a scream amid cries of despair. My daughter was spread eagled on the bed, hands tied above her to the headboard, bloodied like her mother, but with it pooling by her private area as well. I could look but once, I knew she to, was gone.

I collapsed into the hall, balling like an infant, unable to think or do anything. My family, my world was gone. My beautiful wife and gorgeous daughter now lay in pools of blood, their lives ripped away. I saw the phone on the stand in the hall and crawled and struggled to reach it. I did the only thing I had a rational thought of doing, I called my neighbor Billy.

Incoherent on the call, I urged him to come over now. Billy arrived to the horror within a minute and surveyed the scene in both rooms. He took the phone from me; I was still on the hall floor, unable to control my sobbing. I remember Billy calling 911 and then the station to get a forensic team out ASAP. He stated to the operators a double homicide, which hit me to the core.

When the first responders arrived, I was led outside with a blanket around my shoulders and placed on the bumper of an EMS vehicle. People were now converging on my home, lights flashing and neighbors started to gather. Some people tried to talk to me or just ask what happened or was I ok; I was numb and responded to no one.

The scene went on for hours to the point where daylight was approaching. Slowly certain vehicles were leaving the scene, police cruisers, detectives and forensics. Billy asked me to come with him and not look at the house anymore, I couldn't and I saw the two gurneys come out with body bags. I fell on my knees and cried no over and over again.

I spent the night on Billy's couch; his wife gave me a sedative and a sleeping pill so I could rest. In the morning Billy told me he would keep me informed as best he could, the detectives from homicide were top notch and would get to the bottom of it all.

Over the next several days I hung around Billy's house in a stupor, usually medicated to calm my mind. Billy came in and told me to sit, he had some information.

Making sure I really wanted to hear this, Billy said the preliminary report was graphic and detailed and would probably disturb me. None the less, I asked him to tell me all.

Sometime during the hours 8-12 (midnight), a time I was still at the FBI offices and then with Billy, one maybe two people had entered my house. They had taken my wife to our bedroom, ordered her to strip naked and lie on her stomach. Taking a pillow, she was shot twice in the back of the head, killing her instantly. My daughter had been tied up and sexually assaulted both vaginally and anally before she to, was shot twice in the head. She probably saw it coming if she was still conscious after the rapes.

I couldn't take anymore and ran to the bathroom to throw up.

After I weakly returned from vomiting, Billy continued. The police were convinced it was a hit, by the nature of the kills and bullets and method used. It was in retaliation to the sting with the FBI was the assumption. My thought instantly went to the shadowy figure that got away.

Taking some deep breaths to recapture my composure, Billy went on. Based on the forensics they got there was little to go on evidence wise to match the killers up. Even DNA recovered via my daughter, revealed no match on the data base. By all indications, unless someone confessed, my family's murder may become a cold case statistic.

Several weeks have passed, I'm still camping out at Billy's place, and I can't live in my house again. We moved stuff out after cleaning up and re painting; Billy's wife is a realtor and we placed it on the market. I have been unable to return to work even after exhausting my vacation time and I was subsequently fired. I have also been selling my possessions, cars, furniture, anything that would fetch a decent price.

After another month or so, the house was sold with just a small equity. Obviously what had happened in the house dampened the resale value, but nonetheless I was glad to have it off my back. Billy's wife helped me rent a subsidized apartment and we placed most of my leftover stuff in storage. The apartment was on the bus line, so I had no use for my car and expenses, so that was sold. My head and my misery would not let me go back to work except for little day jobs, such as dishwasher and working landscape. I was hitting the bottle pretty hard and usually drank a bottle a day.

I often thought of suicide but I was too gutless and would drink instead. It was a slower and more costly death perhaps but it was easier. Living one day at a time was my motto.

EPILOG

It's been about 7 months since the murders. I'm still living day to day. No evidence or clues have surfaced for my wife and daughter's murders, a cold case as I assumed.

My services for the trials were not needed; Marcus pleaded guilty to some lesser charges and would be out of prison within 3 years. Zippy had made some plea deals for information; his throat was cut ear to ear while in detention awaiting his sentence.

A couple of the goons involved got more time since this was their third offences.

Rubio, well he is still awaiting trial, his attorneys are trying to make a simple deal of paying back taxes and fines. No one knows of the shadowy figure I saw that fateful day; there was speculation that there was a higher boss than Rubio and it may be a woman.

Today opening the mail I got a pleasant surprise, I had two envelopes from an insurance company that I used to use. Inside were two checks, 50K for the death of my wife and 25K for my daughter. I looked at the checks and then looked at the phone; this went on for several minutes.

Finally I picked up the phone, dialed it; when I got a pickup I said into the line,

"Hey Joey, give me $200 on race number ..........

Yes, the biggest loser of all time.