Caught Up (Indigo Vibe) (17 page)

“So David set Ernesto up with Judge Truman. But why did Harriet agree to the divorce?”

“All Harriet cares about is money. Ernesto threatened to cut her off if she didn’t sign the papers. He had the money and power behind him to do it.”

“He still pays her bills, doesn’t he?”

“He isn’t a monster. Yes, they manipulated Harriet into marriage, but he treated her well and cared for her. He divorced her to protect Rosa.”

“Do you know about Rosa Shields?”

Her gaze lowered to her lap. “David’s lover. That was so sad.”

“Where is she now?”

“In Mexico. She was so full of life. I visit her once, sometimes twice a year.”

He tilted his head to the side. “How long have you known Ernesto and David?”

“We all grew up in the same area of town.”

“So you really have been there since the beginning.”
Another bit of information missing from the files.
He took a sip of tea. “I have to ask something very personal.”

“Go ahead.”

“Where you and Ernesto ever lovers?”

She choked on her tea. “Oh my. I’m sorry. No, darling, we were never lovers. It would be like dating my brother.”

* * *

Samson stepped into his apartment.

“What did you think about her?” Alton asked. “What did she say?”

Samson set his briefcase on the coffee table. “You know how the President sends the Vice President out to say things he can’t say himself? Well, that’s the relationship Ernesto has with Mrs. Jill Walker.” He sat on the small tan couch, kicked off his loafers, then propped his feet on the coffee table.

“So, she knows everything.”

“Yep. And she’ll only tell us what Ernesto wants us to know. He can’t tell us himself or he opens himself up to all types of questions he doesn’t want to answer. They’re slick. I don’t know how we’ll catch them. He’ll use her to give us information we would have eventually found anyway.”

“I know you don’t want to, but you have to work the Rosa angle or he’ll get away. We have to bring these cartels down.”

Samson leaned his head back onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. “I know,” he reluctantly admitted.
The best hiding place is in plain sight.
He knew where to look, but he’d need Rosa’s cooperation.

“I can’t rush Rosa,” Samson said.

“With David dead, we’re in no hurry. We know Ernesto’s our man. I’ll make arrangements for our transfer to Chicago.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When Harriet first picked up the phone, she thought she was ready to comfort Rosa and answer the questions she knew would come her way. As the ringing filled the line, the excuses she’d made up suddenly sounded flimsy. She quickly hung up.

How will I explain?…

Chicago, twenty-four years ago

Harriet pressed the intercom button to speak with the limo chauffer. “Would you please drive around the neighborhood for a bit? It’s such a beautiful day, perfect for a drive.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rosa glanced out the window, then continued admiring the designs and signatures her friends had put on her cast.

Harriet stroked her little girl’s hair.
I didn’t think this would be so difficult
. “I need to speak to you about something important.”

Rosa pointed to the only clear area on her cast. “Don’t worry, Mommy. I saved the best spot for you.”

What if she thinks the divorce is my fault? I can’t lose my baby. I have to make her understand this is all Ernesto’s doing.

“You are too sweet. I’ll be sure to put a special design for my special little girl. We need to speak about your father.” Searching for the right words, she paused. Though advanced for a six-year-old, Rosa was still a young child. “Your daddy has decided he doesn’t want to be married anymore and wants a divorce.”

Rosa tilted her head to the side and scrunched her face. “You mean like on
The Parent Trap
? I don’t have a twin sister. How can I trap you into getting married by myself?”

Harriet stifled a smile. The old Disney movie was one of Rosa’s favorites. They’d watched it hundreds of times. “You’re correct, darling. You don’t have a twin, and you can’t trap us into remarrying.”

Refusing to be outdone, Rosa quirked her mouth to the side as if it would help her think and twirled the baby curls by her ear with her free hand. “Well, then we can’t move to California, and you can’t move to Boston.”

Harriet was hurt that Rosa had associated herself with living with Ernesto. All this time Ernesto had been slowly turning her child against her. Pure and simple, men were evil. The kinder and gentler they appeared, the more dangerous and manipulative they were.

“That was a movie, darling. It works differently in real life. Since we’ll no longer be married, your father is moving out. You and I will have the whole house to ourselves,” she said with enthusiasm, trying to lift Rosa’s spirits. “Think of the fun we’ll have.”

Rosa’s brows knitted together. “Where will Daddy live? He can’t leave. Who will take care of us?”

“I’ll take care of you.” The amused look on Rosa’s face cut deeper than any knife ever could.

What has Ernesto done to you?

Rosa’s facial features seemed to take on the wisdom of an eighty-year-old. She trained her black stare on Harriet. “You can’t take care of anyone. We need Daddy. When I get home, I’ll write a report to show him why he can’t leave.”

“It’s about time you learned that men can’t be trusted. No man! All men do is use and abuse, including your precious Ernesto!”

“He’s not a man, he’s a daddy,” Rosa replied matter-of-factly. “And daddies take care of their babies.” She scooted as far away from Harriet as she could.

Harriet’s hands wouldn’t stop trembling. She pressed the intercom and told the driver to take them home. “I’m sorry I raised my voice. I know you’re young, but someday you’ll understand what Mommy’s telling you.” Harriet turned away from the intensity of Rosa’s black ice eyes. “Men can’t and don’t love. All we have is each other. I love you.”

“My daddy loves me,” Rosa said through clinched teeth.

* * *

Chicago, Present day

I can’t stand that Mr. Caldwell. His beady eyes are always staring at me. I think he’s one of those pervert people Anna told me about. Daddy must think he’s a pervert, too, because he told me to make myself scarce when Mr. Caldwell is around. I’ll be glad when Daddy’s business with him is finished, so he won’t come here anymore.

Rosa’s butt had fallen asleep. She resituated herself on the cement floor of the basement storage room and continued reading. A few pages later, she had to stop and re-read.

See, I told you Caldwell was up to no good. I saw on the news today that he was arrested.
She fingered the curls beside her ear. What had Anna told her about Caldwell? It was so long ago. She continued reading.

Two journals later, she found the answer.
You’re not gonna believe this. That Caldwell guy was murdered. They cut out his tongue! Ewwwwww. Something about him working for some drug lord. I’m sorry they murdered him, but I’m glad he won’t be coming around here anymore.

Daddy said we’re moving to Miami. Mom’s not happy about it, but I am. All Mom does is drink, sleep around, and put Daddy down. I hate visiting her. I hope Daddy doesn’t make me come back to visit her.
She closed the journal and set it on the floor with the others.

She was twelve when they moved to Miami. She needed to find out whom Caldwell worked for. She closed her eyes, silently praying it was any cartel besides the Martín cartel.

The sound of her garage door opening broke her out of prayer. She glanced at her watch. It was barely noon. Ernesto wasn’t due until eight. She quickly gathered the journals and placed them in her keepsake box. She couldn’t believe she was sneaking around in her own house through her own things because she didn’t want Ernesto to know what she was up to.

She held her latest journal in her hand. She’d seen Samson open, then close it quickly when he realized what he was reading. He’d called several times since his interview with Ernesto, but she wasn’t ready to speak with him. Ernesto had called and told her how they grilled him, and then tried to manipulate Mrs. Walker into saying Ernesto was a money launderer.

Torn between her loyalty to Ernesto and her love for Samson, she placed the last journal in the keepsake box. She had to put her family first. She closed the box and set it inside of a large plastic container.

She pushed the bin into the corner with the others. She’d have to wait until Ernesto left before she could do more research into Caldwell. She went upstairs to greet her father.

The news wasn’t on, which worried her. Ernesto always turned the television on before he’d set down his keys. So who was in her house?

Her heart thudded against her chest. She pulled an eight-inch knife out of the rack, then stood against the kitchen wall, close to the doorway that led into the rest of the house, and listened. She could hear someone in her bedroom.

Don’t panic
. Ernesto had been correct. She cursed herself for her arrogance and not listening. He’d never steered her wrong before, and even Samson had said someone would be around to check. Now she had a drug-world goon in her home.

She couldn’t go out the front door or the intruder might hear her. Her cell phone was in her purse, which sat on the entryway table. The nearest house phone was in plain sight. She focused on the door that led to the garage.
What if he has buddies with him?
She bit her bottom lip. Ernesto was right, goons had come for her. She chastised herself, again.
How did they crack the security code?

Footsteps approached. There was nowhere to hide in the kitchen, so she remained silent, pressed against the wall, clinging onto the knife for dear life. The footsteps passed the kitchen. She relaxed slightly, but she had to get out. She looked across the room at the sliding door. It would only take her a second or two to unlock the door and get out. The thug wouldn’t have time to catch her.

The television came on and anger mounted on top of her fear. This hoodlum had the nerve to watch her television. The channel switched to CNN. She heard keys slide across the coffee table.

Knife still in hand, she marched out of the kitchen into the living room. “Daddy!”

He jumped around, facing her. “Dammit, Rosa!” He clung to his heart. “You scared me half to death. What are you doing here?”

“I live here. I thought you were drug people coming to get me.”

He folded his arms over his chest and raised a brow. “What on earth would possess you to go after criminals with a kitchen knife? You know better. Call the cops.”

“Dad,” she drawled. “It didn’t take me long to figure out it was you. Sheesh.”

“Your car isn’t in the garage.”

“The motor in the window burned out, so I’m having it fixed before it rains. Why are you here so early?” she asked, but wanted to ask, “Why were you in my bedroom snooping around?”

“I figured we could start our Father’s Day celebration early.” He stepped forward and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry I scared you. You should allow me to hire security for you.”

“No thanks. I’ll be fine. Did you need something out of my bedroom?”

“I was thinking about taking a nap while waiting for you,” he answered smoothly. “I hate the bed in your spare room. Have you heard from Samson?”

His answer didn’t satisfy her, but she let it go because she was afraid of what the real answer might be. She tossed the knife at the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. “He’s called a few times. I left him a message telling him to leave me alone.”

Ernesto sat beside her. “I know you have feelings for him. I’m sorry I’ve put you in this situation. I feel horrible.”

His sincerity made her feel guilty for thinking he was rifling through her belongings. Just because he’d hidden his past didn’t mean she should cancel out everything she knew about the man he’d become.

She wrapped her arms around him. “I love you, Daddy.” The journal entries regarding Caldwell haunted her, but she couldn’t wipe away all the years of love from Ernesto. She didn’t want to. She had to believe in his innocence. She had to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’d earned her belief in him.

He rested his head on hers. “I love you more.”

* * *

“Have you found anything?”

Jeff resituated the earpiece to his cell phone as he turned into the parking lot of Bolívar Networks. “I’m about to meet with her now. I have to be careful not to tip our hand, Dad. If Ernesto’s who we think he is…” He shook his head. “We just need to be careful. I can’t believe we didn’t make the connection sooner. With her haircut, you can really see her resemblance to David. I’ll bet Ernesto is the reason the organization didn’t crumble. He’s the real leader.”

* * *

“May I speak to Ms. Rosa Bolívar?” Samson asked the receptionist at the front desk.

“Sure,” she said with plenty of bubble behind her voice. Samson didn’t know the young lady, but people with so much cheer quickly annoyed him.

He glanced over his shoulder as a tall, dark-skinned woman entered Bolívar Networks. “Hello, Gail,” said the beauty as she walked past.

Gail hopped out of her seat, reaching forward as if there were some sort of emergency. “Wait a second, Ebony. Would you mind showing Samson here back to Rosa’s office?”

He narrowed his eyes on the perky secretary. “How did you know who I am?”

Her smile widened. “Rosa can’t shut up about you. By the way,” she delicately placed her hand on her chest and batted her big green eyes, “I’m Gail Cooper, the too-nosy-for-her-own-good secretary. Pleased to finally meet you.”

Fat grin on his face, he nodded. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“And I’m, Ebony Pacini, the fresh-off-maternity-leave wreck.”

They stood eye to eye. He glanced down to see if she wore heels.

She laughed. “I’m six-one without heels, six-four with them.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” He shook it off. “Pleased to meet you both.”

Ebony and Samson conversed as she led him though the hallways toward Rosa’s office. Ebony stopped when she heard a male voice around the corner from them.

“Take a right at the corner. It’s the first office on the right. You can’t miss it.”

He noticed she’d become tense. “Is something wrong?”

“That guy rubs me the wrong way,” she said in hushed tones. “I’m sure it’s nothing. It was nice meeting you.”

“You, too. And congratulations on the baby.”

“Thanks.” She left him alone.

Samson waited along the wall, listening.

“It’s been so many years, Rosa. We have so much to catch up on,” the man said.

“It has been a long time. Do you ever see any of our old classmates?”

“I’ve lost touch with just about everyone. I don’t plan on losing touch with you again.”

Samson strained to hear Rosa’s reaction to this jerk’s flirting. She was silent, so she was probably blushing. After five more minutes of the man’s incessant boasting about himself, Samson thought he’d be sick.

“So we’re on for tomorrow?” Rosa asked.

Samson’s eardrums burned. No way had his Rosa just confirmed a date with this guy. He smoothed down his goatee.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” the man said. “I’ve kept you from your work too long. Give me a call.”

“I’ll do that.”

The man rounded the corner, making brief eye contact with Samson as he passed. Samson forced the scowl from his face and nodded a hello as he quickly assessed his competition: average height, sleek build, brown eyes, white, thirty-something, mousy brown hair, arrogant gait, and looked like money. After he saw the man had clearly left, Samson went to Rosa’s office.

He stepped into the first office around the corner, but there was no one in it. He thought he was in the wrong office until he saw her nameplate sitting on the mahogany desk. Instead of the normal black leather executive chair, hers had a flowered tapestry design. He smiled, thinking Rosa sure loved her colors. On the shelf behind her desk were photos. He crossed the room for a closer look. They appeared to be Rosa at a picnic. There were kids everywhere and Rosa was in the center having a good time.

He turned and noticed her computer screen. The monitor displayed an article from the
Chicago Tribune
archive—Former Diligent Telecommunications Executive Murdered.