“Oh my God, I’d hoped he hadn’t been shot. I’d hoped this was just a nightmare,” Rita admitted.
“What about Craig, Kent, and Andy?” Fritz asked.
I looked him in the eyes, and I think he knew.
“Andy didn’t make it.”
Fritz looked like I’d just punched him in the stomach. He handed me the phone and walked away to collect himself.
“What do you mean, he didn’t make it?” Halle asked.
“Honey, he means Andy died protecting your brother,” Rita said.
I’d never met Andy before, but Fritz had known him for years. When my career took off, Fritz hired Andy to manage the LA group so that Fritz could focus on us. Fritz told me that Andy was more of a manager, but with Halle’s recent exposure, they’d had to shuffle some people to give her more protection. He admitted that Trip hadn’t been the highest of security concerns, and that was why Andy had volunteered to come to Orlando with him.
Craig had been asked to come to a comic-book convention as a guest speaker. Trip had come with him to spend time with his friends. Fritz didn’t have any idea why they had gone to the nightclub or why they were there at 2:00 in the morning.
I’d watched many newscasts by now, and they kept emphasizing that the nightclub was a gay bar. I didn’t understand why they thought it important to make that distinction. While I had a good idea why Craig and Trip were there, my gut told me that Craig would face some serious problems when everything came out. He’d been careful not to out himself, and I expected the media not to care and to smear him.
“David, what about Craig and Kent?” Rita asked.
“They didn’t have any information on them,” I admitted. “When will you be here?”
“We have about another hour of flight time. Can you see about getting us hotel reservations and a car?” she asked.
“I’ll get Caryn on it. You might want to call Frank Ingram.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Can you call him for me? I’m not sure what good I would be for him right now,” Rita admitted.
I wrote down their flight information; Rita had hired a private jet. I called Caryn and told her what I needed. My next call was to Frank.
I spent nearly forty minutes talking to him. He understood the danger for Craig, but there wasn’t much Frank could do for him. His concern was Rita, Halle, Trip, and me. He said that once the press got wind of a celebrity connection, it would be a big deal. He assured me he would get his people working on talking points. Frank threatened to kill me if I did any interviews before he got to Orlando.
◊◊◊
I took Fritz to the hotel Caryn had booked for us. Once we’d checked in, I turned on one of the 24/7 news programs. The death toll was now 50, with 53 injured. This made it the largest terror attack on US soil since 9/11.
The President came on and gave a speech to the nation. Here are the highlights:
“Today, as Americans, we grieve the brutal murder—a horrific massacre—of dozens of innocent people. We pray for their families, who are grasping for answers with broken hearts. We stand with the people of Orlando, who have endured a terrible attack on their city. Although it’s still early in the investigation, we know enough to say that this was an act of terror and an act of hate. And as Americans, we are united in grief, in outrage, and in resolve to defend our people …
“This is an open investigation. We’ve reached no definitive judgment on the precise motivations of the killer. The FBI is appropriately investigating this as an act of terrorism. And I’ve directed that we must spare no effort to determine what, if any, inspiration or association this killer may have had with terrorist groups. What is clear is that he was a person filled with hatred. Over the coming days we’ll uncover how and why this happens and we’ll go wherever the facts lead us …
“This is an especially heartbreaking day for all our friends—our fellow Americans—who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender. The shooter targeted a nightclub where people came together to be with friends, to dance and to sing, and to live. The place where they were attacked is more than a nightclub—it is a place of solidarity and empowerment where people have come together to raise awareness, to speak their minds, and to advocate for their civil rights.”
I don’t think the media could help themselves. They spent the majority of their time trying to guess at the motivation.
When Rita landed, she and Halle were driven straight to the hospital. They had Flo with them, and Fritz met them there. I’d promised not to leave the hotel room so Fritz could go be with Rita.
◊◊◊
While I waited for news, my mom tracked me down.
After I told her what little I knew about Trip and Craig, she wanted to know about Cuba.
“What happened with your director?” she asked.
“He wanted to demonstrate that the stunt director and I were exaggerating the danger of a gun loaded with blanks. It was the same crap he pulled with the crocodiles.”
Did I just say that?
“What crocodiles?” Mom asked. “You haven’t said anything about crocodiles.”
“We did a scene in a swamp, and they spotted a crocodile. We had to make sure they got rid of the crocs before we could continue with the shoot.”
“Hang on, how many were there?” she asked.
“Uhm, two that I saw,” I admitted.
From there, it was game over. I ended up telling Mom the whole story. Believe me, it would have been a hundred times worse if she’d found out from someone else. I also told her about jumping off the mast and the girl who had gotten money out of me.
There was some vague threat about withholding information. I was glad when Mom finally had to go work with a client.
◊◊◊
My hotel room door lock beeped as it was being opened.
“I don’t care if it might be disturbing. I want to see what happened,” Rita was saying to Fritz.
Halle looked pale, and when she saw me, she crawled onto my lap and laid her head against my shoulder. I tuned out Fritz and Rita’s argument and focused on Halle.
“How is he?” I asked her.
“He made it out of surgery, and they think he’ll make a full recovery. They let us see him for just a moment. It was terrible,” Halle said as she buried her head in my chest and began to cry.
I just held her and let her cry it out. She was a mess and emotionally exhausted. She ended up falling asleep in my arms. I picked her up and put her in one of the bedrooms. When I came out, Rita and Fritz were glaring at each other.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Fritz got the bodycam footage from last night and refuses to show it to me,” Rita said.
“Have you seen it yet?”
“Not yet,” Fritz admitted.
“Rita, let him look at it and decide if you should see it. I don’t think you want to watch anything that will scar you for life. Let him do his job and protect you,” I said.
“No! I want to see what happened,” she insisted.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the other bedroom. She fought me every step of the way and called me some names that would have been hurtful if I hadn’t known how much pain she was in. I wrapped her in a bear hug, and she finally calmed down. She began to shudder and then collapsed in my arms. I just held her as she sobbed.
No mother should see her child after he’s been shot. My heart broke for Rita and Halle. Once Rita stopped crying, she began to talk about the hurt of not being able to do anything for him. Trip had been shot twice, once in the head and once in the shoulder. The head shot had just grazed him, and all they did was sew him up. The shoulder was the more serious of the two. They were afraid he would lose some function in his right arm.