Caught Up (Indigo Vibe) (9 page)

“Men,” she said as they settled on the couch. “What can I do for you, Samson?”

Oh the things you could do for me.
“I wanted to apologize for Alton. He’s usually more professional.”

She reached over and turned his wrist around. Her soft touch had him wanting to touch her soft places. She tapped his watch. “It’s after midnight. Why are you here, Samson?”

Her voice and demeanor were innocent; her loaded question was anything but. The last time he mixed work and pleasure ended in a nasty divorce. Tempted as he was to cross the line, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. “To prove to myself that I can stay away from you.”

“Honesty. I like that.”

He could feel her gaze glide over him from head to toe, breaking down his defenses. She looked into his eyes, and he knew he’d lost.

“Is it working?” she purred.

He leaned forward, whispering into her ear, “No. Not really?” His hands weaved through her hair. He’d been correct; her curls wrapped perfectly around his fingers as if custom made for his hands. And she smelled so sweet. This off-limits woman was someone he could fall in love with.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” he asked huskily.

“Enjoy myself thoroughly.”

Not ready for the challenge, he dropped his head back to the couch. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”

Her jovial laugh matched the mischief in her eyes. “You came to my room. Not the other way around.”

“You got me there. I’m sorry. I’ve started something I can’t finish.” Until he made certain she wasn’t a player in the Martín syndicate, he’d stay away. He was angry with himself. He wouldn’t use her as Alton wanted and should have never gone to her room. “I truly apologize.” He resisted the urge to carry her into the bedroom of the suite and make love. “I have a job to do and shouldn’t even be here. This is a major conflict of interest.”

Brows furrowed, she asked, “Do you think I’m involved with David’s syndicate?”

He took her hands into his. “I know in my heart that you aren’t. But that isn’t good enough for the DEA.”

“What about innocent until proven guilty?”

“That’s all well and fine for a court of law, but this isn’t a court of law.”

“You’ll also have to investigate Daddy, won’t you? I don’t trust your partner. You can prove Daddy’s innocent.”

Knowing she wouldn’t like what he was about to say, he prepared himself for a tongue-lashing. “My job isn’t to prove Ernesto’s innocence or guilt, but to find the truth. I have to look at every possibility.”

She sighed. “I wish I could be mad at you for being so thorough, but I can’t. I understand.” She kicked off her bunny slippers, then snuggled into his side. “I’ll be glad when this is all over with.”

He stared at the top of her head. His ex-wife would be throwing a fit about him not using his position to help a friend. He wrapped his arm around her, thankful for her analytical mind.

“I’m afraid your partner might try to frame Daddy.”

“He isn’t like that, Rosa. He was out of line today, but he was in rare form.”

“All I know is your partner thinks I’m a
femme fatale
. Daddy raised me right. Anyway we can help, we will. Within reason,” she added slowly. “We don’t have to take his insults, insinuations, or disrespect.”

“I agree.” Comfortable silence joined them in the room as she relaxed against his side.

“Even though you’re a tease, I’m glad you came by. I wanted to thank you for supporting me today. My life hasn’t been a bed of roses, but I’ve always known what I’m dealing with, so it had order. Since I turned thirty, my life has lost all order. Daddy doesn’t understand I need to know about David. For the first time in my life, I’m alone, and it’s scary.” She laced her fingers through his. “Well, I was alone, until you came along.”

Her sincerity touched him as much as her faith in him gave him strength. Both qualities his ex-wife didn’t possess. “Your mother never told you anything about David?”

“The only thing Mom talks about is how much she hates men. I’d bet she doesn’t even know what my degrees are in.” She closed her eyes. “I know this will sound horrible, but as a child I felt the only reason she had me was for child support.”

She’d tensed up when speaking about her mother. He gently stroked the rim of her ear with his finger, and she relaxed. “It’s not horrible,” he said. “Who wants to be thought of as a paycheck?”

“David actually showed more love and concern for me than she ever has. He isn’t what I expected.” She placed her hand palm-to-palm with his. He’d bet his were at least twice the size of hers. As she played with his fingers, he could tell she had more on her mind than finger games.

“When you interview her, don’t let your partner antagonize her.”

“His name is Alton.”

“I can’t stand him. Jerk.”

“Like father, like daughter. Neither of you like Alton.”

“I can’t believe I had a brother. Now I understand why Daddy didn’t want me to see David. I thought it was jealousy. I still think jealousy plays a role, but he’s afraid someone will come after me like they did David’s son. They’re all monsters. That’s why he’s being so irrational. Do you think anyone will come after me?”

“They may snoop around, but you don’t know anything, so you should be safe. Try not to worry about that. I won’t let anyone harm you.”

She pulled back and their gazes locked. “Are you applying for job as my bodyguard?”

“Something like that.” Though she looked mind-weary, he admired the way she’d handled the upheaval. To be bombarded with so much information that was contradictory to what you’d been raised to believe was too overwhelming for him to imagine. He silently prayed Ernesto had given up all ties with the drug world shortly after Rosa’s birth.

“You know everything about me,” she said. “Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m number three of five children. My mother was a teacher. My father was a police officer, who died in the line of duty when I was fourteen. My older brother was already in college, so I became the man of the house.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your father.”

“It was hard at first, but we made it. I love having a large family.” Thoughts of his sister darkened his mood.

As if sensing his pain, Rosa hugged him. He rested his head on hers, thinking this was just what he needed.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to,” she said silently.

He’d never spoken about his sister’s suicide because he couldn’t; but now he wanted to, needed to. He knew it was crazy, but he felt comfortable telling Rosa things that he couldn’t even admit to himself. He told her everything about the embezzlement, his brother-in-law running off with the secretary, how the investigators totally demoralized his sister, and her subsequent suicide. A DEA agent at the time, he’d told her to tough it out. The investigators were only doing their job. It would all blow over once they saw that she didn’t know anything. Now he wished he’d recognized her pain, the shock she was in, her call for help.

Comfortable silence returned as they held each other.

“Thank you, Rosa.”

“I’m here if you ever need to talk.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “How did you become a DEA agent? You don’t seem to fit the mold.”

“Oh, really.” Thinking David would agree with her, he smiled.

“Nope. Alton does though.”

“Actually, I’d just gotten a divorce. My ex-wife was a paralegal at the law firm I worked for.”

“What was your job?”

“A lawyer.”

“You gave up being a lawyer to become a DEA agent? Whew.”

“My law degree helps me as an agent, but I joined to run away.” He was tired of running and was ready to take control of his life again.

“My parents are running away from their pasts. You can’t run forever. Eventually your past will catch up with you and run you over.”

“I agree.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what caused your divorce?”

“I wanted children. She had an abortion, and I found out about it. Then later, I found out she’d been having an affair with one of my partners.”

“So that’s why you’re having a hard time believing Daddy wanted me after he found out about Mom and David?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “After the divorce, I quit the firm and joined the DEA.”

“It’s understandable that you’d need a break.” She squirmed a little, then nervously said, “Have you ever just met someone and felt you’ve known them your whole life? I know this will sound crazy, but …” she trailed off. “I’m sorry. I’ve been under a lot of stress. I’m talking crazy.” An uneasy smile tipped her lips.

“Before today, I would have thought you were talking crazy. After today, I know that anything is possible.”

Searching for a reason to stay longer, he spotted two books and a pen on the coffee table. “What are you reading?” He picked up the purple book. “
Indigo
by Beverly Jenkins.”

“She wrote it back in the eighties, but it’s my favorite book. No, make that my second favorite book.
Their Eyes Were Watching God
by Zora Neale Hurston is my favorite. This is a close second though.”

He went into the bedroom and returned with a pillow and a comforter. He handed her the pillow, covering her with the comforter. “I want to see what this Beverly woman has.” He brushed his lips over hers.

She nibbled on his bottom lip. “Don’t start none, won’t be none,” she murmured.

He’d only wanted a taste to hold him over until he could feast. He backed away. Some temptations were too great. “You’re killing me.” He rolled the leather office chair from the desk in the back of the room around to the coffee table. He flipped open to the marked page and read aloud. Peeking up occasionally, he watched her reaction to his voice. She closed her eyes and laid her head on the pillow. She looked so peaceful, content.

He stopped reading and her eyes opened. He’d thought she’d fallen asleep.

“Done already?” She yawned, stretching. “Thank you. I’ll have to get a recorder next time, so I can listen to you whenever I want.”

“Would you like for me to read more?”

“I’d never put you out like that.”

A few chapters later, he heard a light snore. Her choice of books said a lot about her.
Indigo
was a romance novel about a former slave who finds love as she runs a station on the Underground Railroad. He also found it interesting that the heroine was named Harriet, yet was the total opposite of Rosa’s mother. He set the novel on the coffee table and picked up the second book. It had a canvas cover with an embroidered rose on it. The bottom was cross-stitched Rosa Bolívar.
An artist like her father
, he thought and opened the book to the marked page.
I’m not sure how I feel about David. I love who he is, but I can’t accept who he was.
He quickly closed the journal. He wouldn’t betray her trust.

He set the journal on the table, kneeling before her, watching the swell and fall of her chest as she slept. Hot blooded, she’d knocked the comforter onto the floor.

An uneasy feeling had settled in him. He wanted to give Ernesto the benefit of the doubt, but who else had the perfect ammunition to use against David? He fingered through the curls about her ear. This time, he prayed for their sake that Ernesto was clean.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Hello, Mrs. Walker,” Rosa said as she entered Ernesto’s front office. She’d come to tell him about her visit with David and the DEA. Instead of the usual cheerful reply, she was greeted with a grim nod.

She rushed to the secretary’s desk. “Is everything all right? Is there anything I can do?”

Mrs. Walker took Rosa’s outstretched hand and squeezed gently. “You’ve always been such a sweet child. I’m truly sorry.” She picked up the phone and dialed Ernesto’s line. “She’s here.” She hung up.

Rosa stared at Mrs. Walker. Eyes all puffy, shoulders slouched, face drawn: the woman looked like she’d just lost her best friend. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m a great listener.”

“You have a good head on your shoulders, Rosa. You’ve grown into a fine young woman. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Go ahead and see your father.”

Rosa crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t like leaving you like this, but I’ll go.” She hugged the secretary. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

The moment Rosa stepped into Ernesto’s office, she knew something was desperately wrong. He was standing at the floor to ceiling windows, looking over the city, which she’d seen him do a million times. The odd part was the tiled wall of flat screens weren’t on. The man couldn’t be in a room with a television and not have on the news. He even listened to news radio.

First Mrs. Walker, now this.

Fear gripped her as she thought of the two things that could cause these events. “Daddy, has Mom been in an accident?” She’d worried Harriet had gotten drunk after she rushed out of the office and caused a car accident. She’d tried calling several times, but Harriet didn’t answer the phone.

He continued staring out the window.

Heart pounding loudly in her ears and eyes welled up with tears, she crossed the room to him. “Daddy, please. What’s wrong with Mom?” She tugged his suit sleeve.

He looked down on her. “She is well. No one is hurt,” he said, then returned to staring out the window at the busy, morning-rushed city streets.

“What’s wrong?” Her heart continued on its quick descent as the second event that could cause Ernesto’s mood readied to reveal itself. She’d been so emotionally drained after leaving the prison yard, she hadn’t even thought of damage control. She silently prayed it wasn’t as bad as she knew it could be.

“What happened to the obedient little girl I raised?” he quietly asked. “When did she grow into the hard-headed woman standing beside me?”

The slap of disappointment in his voice knocked the wind out of her. “I’m sorry. I had to do what I felt was right.”

“Have I ever led you astray before?”

“No, sir. But this was different.”

“Yes, it was. I’ve never known you to make a decision without having all of the facts first.”

“You wouldn’t give me the facts, so I had to work with what I had.”

“Instead of trusting me, you shot off on your own like a child because I wasn’t telling you what you wanted to hear.” He stalked over to his desk.

How could she tell him her trust in him had been shattered? “You should have given me all of the facts and allowed me to make my own decision. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“I know what’s best, Rosa.” He thumped the newspaper on his desk. “Come see your handiwork.”

The headline read
Mystery Daughter Pleads to See Father
. Under the headline was a giant split photo: one side of her shaking the prison fence, the other of David. A full feature article about Rosa Bolí
var’s plight followed.

She weaved her hands through her hair. “I’m so sorry. I was in shock, desperate, and not thinking straight.”

“There are more repercussions from your lack of judgment.” He aimed the remote control at the screened wall and flicked. All of the televisions came on. To her horror, channel after channel reported some version of the “Bolívar connection” to the largest drug syndicate in the world. “Our stock has already plunged fifteen percent. Do you know how many millions that is?”

She lowered herself into his executive chair. “I feel so horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“And do you know what the worst part is?” he calmly continued. “I’m not sure how I can protect you from David’s enemies.” He knelt in front of her. “Can’t you see you’re more important to me than the air that I breathe?” He gently swiped his thumb under her eyes, wiping her tears away. “You’re my only child.”

“I’m sorry.”

He held her hands. “You don’t understand the drug world. I have to protect you, Rosa. You’re going into hiding.”

“Please, Daddy, no.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“But I’ll always be David’s biological child. I can’t hide forever.” His facial expressions went from compassionate to all business. “Let’s face them down now,” she added.

“If I must hide you forever, then I will. I’d rather have you alive and mad.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m sorry news of my parentage leaked out, but I’m not about to hide for the rest of my life. How do I know they won’t come after you because I’ve gone into hiding? I messed up. Just as you’ve taught me, I must suffer the consequences.”

“The consequence for this is too high. I won’t risk your life.” He flicked off the flat screen televisions. “I don’t mean anything to David, but you do. You’re the one in danger.” He tapped on the picture of her at the prison gates. “They’ll never believe you aren’t a part of his organization. They’ll think we raised you to control Bolívar International and the Martín cartel.”

The fear in his eyes told her there was more. And, quite frankly, she was too disappointed to completely trust him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m protecting you.”

“I know about David’s son. I’m not a three-year-old, defenseless child. You should have told me about David years ago.”

“Look what happened when I told you.”

“That happened because you didn’t tell me. I thought I was losing my only chance, and I panicked. Omissions aren’t protections, but lies. I’m not a child. This involves me.” She thumped her chest. “I have a right to know everything!”

“You don’t understand, Rosa. I know the life. I lived the life. I saw his son die. I saw how it tore David apart. I can’t live with that pain.”

“The only thing I don’t understand is why you don’t have faith in me. You raised me, and I think you did a damn good job. You’re not on your own. I’m grown. We can get through this together, but I need to know what’s going on.”

He stared at her a long while. Acknowledgement sparked in his eyes. She could tell he saw her for the woman she’d become instead of his little girl. He had finally relinquished control as her commanding officer.

He turned away and walked to the wet bar. “What are we going to do, Rosa?” He took out two glasses and began fixing their drinks.

She wanted to run down the hallway calling out, “He said we! He said we!” Instead, she calmly said, “I have a friend in the DEA. I say we work with him. He can tell us who to look out for and maybe set up some sort of sting thing.”

He poured her soda. “You’re joking, right?” He handed over the cola. “We may be black, but our surname is Colombian. They think we’re all drug lords. We’re on our own.”

“Samson isn’t like that,” she said more harshly than she intended. “We can trust him.”

He lowered his cola from his lips. “Who is Samson?”

“A DEA agent I met yesterday. We don’t know anything about these drug people.” She followed Ernesto to his desk. “He can help.”

“Do you realize who David is? He’s dying in a few days, and they haven’t brought down his syndicate. Think about it. Our friendship was so tight that I’ve secretly raised his child all of these years. What else have we done in secrecy? To run a syndicate the size of David’s requires
legitimate
businessmen.” He hunched his shoulders. “Who would make a better choice than me? The DEA’s job is to catch drug lords, not protect you.”

“Why did you agree to raise me after you knew David cheated with Mom? I mean, they both betrayed you.”

“You know how we grew up. David and I vowed our children would never want for anything, and we’d raise them right. He loved his son and Rosa.”

“Who’s Rosa?”

“The love of David’s life. He insisted I name you after her.”

“Where is she now?”

He stared at her a long while. “After her baby died, she had a nervous breakdown. David moved her to Mexico and hired people to care for her.”

“Is she still there?”

“Yes. I make sure she’s well cared for.”

“Let me get this straight. You raised his child and are caring for his lover, even though he betrayed you? This doesn’t add up.”

“David and I aren’t blood, but we’re family. Yes, I was angry about the affair, but he’s still my family. It’s like your aunt Angela and your mother. She loves Harriet, but doesn’t agree with her lifestyle. That’s me and David. He wanted to raise you himself. I couldn’t allow you to be raised in the drug lifestyle.

“To make a long story short, he finally agreed that he couldn’t raise a child and live as he was. He loved you and didn’t want the same fate that befell his son to happen to you.” He took her hands into his. “Next thing I knew, I had a beautiful baby girl.”

She relaxed considerably. “What role did David play in raising me?”

“We traveled in different circles. He was my friend, but I couldn’t afford to have friends like him. He understood my dilemma. We agreed it would be best for everyone if he stayed away. Over the years, he would ensure our names were never connected in government agency files. We didn’t want anyone finding out about you.” He ran the tip of his finger along her jawbone to her chin, which he gently pinched. “You’ve lived a protected life. I can’t stress how dangerous the drug world is. You have to keep a low profile.”

Ernesto’s explanations made perfect sense to her. If they’d remained in contact, the authorities and business community would have thought Ernesto was guilty by association. She still felt his stress on the danger surrounding her situation wasn’t warranted, and dismissed it as him being his usual overprotective self.

“We should go to Samson before the DEA comes to you,” she said. “It’s been thirty years. The statute of limitations is over, and they’ll find out about your past eventually. It’s better to go to them with it first.”

“I don’t care about the DEA investigating Bolívar International. We made sure they’d never find anything to hurt me, and Bolívar International was never involved in anything illegal. I’m worried about keeping you safe.”

She released an exasperated sigh, thinking her father had a one-track mind today, and it was set on her safety. “But a drawn out investigation and any indication that we aren’t cooperating will kill our stock price. You’ve worked so hard—”

He held up his hand. “Stop worrying about me. You’re more important to me than Bolí
var International’s stock price.”

“But you can have both if we go to the DEA.”

“And what if David’s enemies think we’re telling the DEA David’s secrets? They’ll come after you to silence us. We need to try and continue with life as usual and avoid the DEA as much as possible.”

“We don’t know any secrets.”

“I know that and you know that. But the DEA and David’s enemies don’t know that. The worse the DEA can do is hurt Bolívar International’s stock price. The company is strong and will survive this. Drug syndicates could kill you.”

Rosa watched him skim through the article about her and David. She couldn’t allow him to sacrifice his business for an irrational fear, but she couldn’t think of a way out. He’d never cooperate with the DEA if he thought she were in danger. He wouldn’t save his business, so she’d have to do it herself.

Knowing the article was just the tip of the iceberg, she asked, “Daddy, can you keep the media from hounding me?”

“I’ve already taken care of it.” He looked up from the article. “I need to know everything David told you, and what happened with the DEA.” He set the paper to the side. “But first, you’re going to explain why you flush when you speak about this Samson.”

Her eyes flew wide open. “I don’t.”

“You practically bit my head off to defend him. You need to be careful. He’s using you to find out information on me. He can’t be trusted. We can’t trust anyone but each other.”

She squelched the urge to proclaim Samson’s innocence. “You should meet with him before you judge him.”

“We’ll see.”

* * *

“Have you seen the news? Martín has a daughter.”

He switched his cell phone to his other ear, then brushed his hand through his short, mousy brown hair. “Of course, I have. I’m on it. I’ll have to tread lightly.” Sitting in a local café
, he set down the
Daily Herald
in exchange for
The Wall Street Journal
. There was an article about Paige Industries that he wanted to read before he headed for Chicago.

“Agreed. Keep me informed of your progress.”

“As always.”