Dirty Angels 01 (27 page)

“Excuse me,” I
asked the aproned-woman who came to the door. “But do Raquel and Armand Chavez live here?”

The women stared at me for a moment, slowly wiping her hands on her apron. I had left Bruno’s head in an ice cooler in the trunk, so there should have been nothing too unusual about a smartly-dressed man standing on the steps. “Yes, they live here. Who is asking?”

I breathed out a sigh of quiet relief. So Salvador hadn’t killed them yet, which meant that Luisa was probably still alive.

“I’m a friend of their daughter,” I told her, smiling as genuinely as possible. “Could you let Raquel know that I wish to speak with her? It’s rather important, I’m afraid.”

Again she studied me. I had a feeling that Luisa personally hired this woman. She was bold and suspicious, just the kind of person she’d want to protect her parents. If my instincts were right, she probably had a gun very close by and knew how to use it.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Javier,” I told her.

“No last name?”

“Garcia.”

“All right, Javier Garcia,” she said. “I’ll go get Raquel. Please stay here.”

The door shut in my face.

I shrugged and took a seat on the bench beside a well-tended rose garden. I admired the flowers while I waited to hear the door open again.

When it did, I swiveled in my seat to see a beautiful, elegant older woman standing there. Her focus was on me, even though I knew she was blind.

“You wish to speak to me about Luisa?” she asked. I could see the caretaker hovering right behind her.

I started to rise but Raquel quickly said, “You stay right where you are. Don’t get up. A friend of my daughter’s is a friend of mine.”

I really hoped she hadn’t said that about Sal.

“Your senses are outstanding, Mrs. Chavez,” I told her as she came down the two steps and on the path toward me, moving with grace and confidence, not needing any help at all.

She smiled, and I saw Luisa in her face. It did funny things to my gut, rotting it with sadness.

“Thank you,” she said, “but this is just life for me. It doesn’t need to be so hard.”

“No,” I said, “I guess not with this. You have a lovely new home.” My eyes slid over to the housekeeper who was now leaning against the doorway, openly watching us. “And very watchful help.”

“Ah, that’s just Penelope,” she said, waving her away. “Go back inside, Penelope, I’ll be fine. This man is not going to hurt me.”

Penelope reluctantly did as she asked, but even so I saw the blinds move and knew she was spying through the window.

“She’s very paranoid,” I noted, turning back to Raquel. “Is there a reason for that?”

She gave me a small smile. “Yes.” But she said no more.

I didn’t want to make Raquel paranoid, but I had to ask, “How come you’re so sure I’m not going to hurt you?”

She sat down beside me and folded her hands in her lap. “You can read people’s faces, can’t you? I can read people’s souls.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, but her smile and confidence never wavered.

“Oh, you’re serious,” I said, feeling slightly ashamed. I covered it up. “Well, I’ll have you know I have no soul to read.”

Now it was her time to laugh. “Of course you do!” she exclaimed. “You’re here right now, aren’t you? Now, tell me why, and you’ll see that I’m right.”

“Why I’m here?”

She nodded gently.

“Mrs. Chavez…”

“Raquel.”

“Raquel,” I started, “have you heard from your daughter recently?”

She shook her head, her hands trembling just a bit. “No. Not for at least three weeks. Do you know if she’s okay?”

I sucked on my lip for a moment. “Truthfully? I don’t know anything. But I don’t think she is. I think Luisa is in a lot of danger and so are you. Salvador Reyes makes bad men look good.”

“I know that,” she said in quiet anger.

“And I know that he’s no longer interested in keeping her as his wife…” I breathed in and out loudly. “And when that happens, she’s as good as dead to him.”

She stared up at the sky blankly for a few moments before she said, “What do you need from us?”

“I need to make sure you’re safe,” I said. “It’s all Luisa ever wanted. She cares more about you than she does her own life and her own happiness.” It’s actually infuriating, I wanted to add. But even I knew when to keep my mouth shut.

“I know,” she said, barely audible. Her eyes were watering. I really hoped she didn’t start crying in front of me because I would have no idea what to do.

“If you’re safe,” I told her, “both you and your husband, and away from here, away from where Salvador can find you, then I can go and get Luisa. I can bring her back.”

“That’s impossible,” she said. “Salvador Reyes is the leader of the Sinaloa Cartel.”

“He is. And it won’t be easy. I’ll most likely die in the process. But there is a way to do it. There’s always a way.”

She seemed to take that in. She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand and nodded her head, as if agreeing to an internal conversation.

“Why are you doing this?” she eventually asked. “What is Luisa to you?”

“She’s a friend.” It wasn’t quite a lie.

“You’re in love with her,” she stated, a wide smile on her face.

I shot her a look she could not see. “I care about her very much,” I corrected her.

“Well,” she said, not put off, “if that’s good enough for you, that’s good enough for me.”

“Then you’ll let me help you,” I said cautiously, feeling like this had gone over easier than expected. I thought there would be a lot of protesting, a lot of yelling, a lot of doors slammed in my face or guns held to my head.

“Of course I will,” she said. “And Armand will too.”

“And you’re trusting me, just like that?”

“Yes. I am. I told you. My senses are sharp, and you, my boy, have a very good soul, even if you choose to believe otherwise.”

“I may not be as good as you think.”

She smiled and waved at me. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. I can smell the blood on you, after all.”

I looked down at my pants, at the few dark spots that stood out against the navy blue. “I had some business to take care of,” I tried to explain.

“I’m sure you did.” I wondered how much exactly this woman thought she knew about me. It was fascinating and troubling all at once. But as long as she was willing to help herself and her daughter, I couldn’t care.

“Will Penelope be an issue?” I asked, eying the house again.

“You’re not shooting her,” Raquel told me, “if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I frowned. She seemed to have a pretty good handle on me after all. “I wasn’t,” I lied. “But will you be needing her in the future, or will someone else do? I can hire you anyone you want on the other side, but it’s too risky to bring Penelope along with us. She’s on the cartel’s payroll, after all.”

“Anyone kind will do,” she said. “What do you mean the other side?”

“I can get you and your husband on a private ship leaving from San Jose’s marina in thirty minutes. You’ll go straight to Puerto Vallarta. There, I’ll have someone meet you and help you get settled. You can trust her.”

“Who is she?”

“My sister, Alana. She owes me more than a few favors.” At least, in my mind she did.

“All right,” Raquel said. “I trust you.”

I smiled. “Normally you shouldn’t, but in this case, I’m glad you do.”

I helped her up, even though she didn’t need it. Just before I was about to lead her to the door, she reached out and touched my face. She touched my forehead, my nose, my lips, my jaw, feeling delicately at each one.

“You’re a striking man, I bet,” she finally mused, looking satisfied. “All these parts that shouldn’t work together but do.”

I raised my brows and she gently took her hand away. “You could just call me handsome. Everyone else does.”

Once we were back in the house, I told her to go get Armand and pack up everything important. Penelope started asking questions, panicking. I knew she’d either shoot me or stop them, so I stopped her before she could. It was just a sleeper hold of sorts, something to knock her out long enough until Luisa’s parents were safe and on their way to Puerto Vallarta.

I quickly slid the body into the kitchen, making sure she wasn’t visible to anyone passing by, and left her a great wad of American hundred dollar bills, knowing that it was worth more than she’d get in a few month’s pay. It might buy her silence—there was no way Penelope wanted to own up to being the one who let Luisa’s parents escape. It also bought Raquel peace of mind.

Armand was a bit more cantankerous than I thought, and even though he drifted in and out of confusion, he was willing to go wherever Raquel was telling him. Soon I was driving them to the docks and helping them onto a fishing boat that one of my men operated. It paid to have my workers everywhere.

Once on board, Raquel looked up at me and smiled. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t creep me out a little, the way she knew where you were, the way she seemed to see into you without seeing you at all.

“Good luck,” she said. “I trust that you’ll do everything you can.”

I nodded. She was right about that.

After I watched them leave, and their ship faded on the horizon, I put in the call to Alana. If she wasn’t willing to help out, I had a few people on that end that would. Still, I didn’t trust them quite the way I trusted her.

“Hello?” she answered, sounding short of breath. “Javier?”

“Alana,” I said. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, no, I was just doing my workout video, it’s fine.”

I’d forgotten that Alana was a bit of a health nut. I hoped happy endorphins were running amok.

“Yes, well, so here is the thing.” I launched right into it, telling her only what she needed to know—mainly that she needed to take care of two ailing parents for a few days. She tried to get out of it, telling me she’d get fired from the airlines for taking time off. I told her I would ensure that not only would she not get fired, but that I’d pay her three times what she’d miss. She told me she wasn’t equipped to act as a nurse, and I told her I’d give her money to hire a short-term nurse if needed. I had an answer for everything, and I was very persuasive. I was also an expert in the art of guilt-tripping.

After she reluctantly conceded, she asked, “Who are these people, Javier? Why are you doing this?”

“Their daughter is important to me,” is all I said.

“In what way?” she asked suspiciously.

“In ways I don’t even understand. Thank you, Alana. I’ll be in touch.” Then before I almost hung up, I quickly said, “Oh wait. They’ll have a cooler with them. There’s what looks like a head of lettuce in there. Can you put in your freezer at home? I want it there for safe-keeping.”

“
Is
it a head of lettuce?”

“It’s something I promised to get.” I cleared my throat. “A gift. But for fuck’s sake, don’t peek at it.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” she said dryly, then hung up.

I sighed and put my phone back in my pocket. I walked away from the turquoise waves and the fishermen, back to the car, back to the airport, back to Mazatlán and back to The Devil’s Backbone. When I left again, there’d be no guarantee I was coming back.

Javier

“Y
ou’re fucking crazy,” Este spat at me, grabbing the ends of his hair and pulling on them. It was surprising to see him acting like a teenage girl, even for him.

“We all know I’m crazy,” I agreed. “This should not be new information. It takes crazy to run this business.”

“No, Javi,” he said, sitting down in his chair in a huff. “What you’re talking about isn’t running a business, it’s
ruining
a business.”

I gently pulled at the ends of my shirt, making sure they were even. “And it also has nothing to do with the business. I go in and get her. End of story.”

He narrowed his eyes, taking me in for a moment. Then he shook his head. “If you come back dead, that will affect the business.”

I gave him a hard look. “And then you’ll take over. That is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Me out of the picture.”

He scoffed at that. “If I wanted you out of the picture, Javi, I would have made that happen a long time ago.”

“No,” I said, smiling slowly. “You wouldn’t have. You can’t. And you know it. No one gives a flying fuck about you because you haven’t had to do anything to get where you are except just show up. People respect me. I worked for everything I’ve got. You’d last a few hours if you were ever to usurp me and you know it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Point taken. You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

“If I wasn’t mean, I wouldn’t be me.” I leaned forward, hoping he saw how serious I was. “And if I wasn’t crazy, I wouldn’t be me either. I know what I’m doing, Este.”

All right, well that was a complete lie. I had no idea what I was doing or if it would work. I was guessing the odds of getting Luisa out—if she was still alive—were fairly high, but the odds of me surviving, or not being hauled off to prison again, were very low. But for once in my life, the odds were worth the risk.

Two days after I returned from Cabo San Lucas, I finally heard from Lillian Berrellez. She had been my absolute last resort, but I was at the point where I could admit that not only did I need special help in getting Luisa back, but I needed to shed a few points from my moral compass.

In old Mexico, the Mexico I aspired to be a part of, the cartels all operated around each other with an air of respect. Bargains were made—I give you something, you give me something. There were no ruthless, pointless killings in the streets. There were no innocents being raped, murdered, tortured. There were no 16-year-old versions of myself being taught to fire AR-15s. There were no gangs of punks running amok and killing people over fifty dollars worth of stolen cocaine.

We did our business to better ourselves and to better the country. We were vicious and violent but elegant and discreet. There was a dance to all of this, one that kept all things flowing in the right direction, a circle that ensured the smartest and brightest would stay on top, not the man with the most guns and the smallest dick.

And in this dance, there was a code. We are born as Mexicans and we die as Mexicans. Our problems stayed our problems. We never get the States involved in our affairs. The DEA, the FBI, the CIA, they were our enemies, and as cartels, we needed to unite against an enemy that thought they knew what was best for us yet had no idea how our business worked. The USA had no right to tell us, citizens of another country, what we could and couldn’t do. They didn’t live here, they didn’t know. They only knew their privileged, fat, wasteful society while they pointed their fleshy fingers at us and blamed Mexico for all their problems.

When I was let out of prison, it was because I struck a deal with the DEA, an agency that was sometimes more corrupt than we were. I had promised to provide intel when it was needed—something I never wanted to do, something that went against my morals. I also paid a shitload of money.

Lillian Berrellez was a young, attractive, saucy woman who was born in San Diego to Mexican parents. I used to have more than a few fantasies about her while we were striking our bargains. She was a tough nut to crack though, completely devoted to her job, though obviously not above a little bribery. Though I had promised her intel, aside from a few things here and there, stuff that was of no use to her, I had never really given her any since my return to Mexico.

And the funny thing was, she never asked. I suppose she knew I would protect my country before I ratted any of my countrymen out, whether they were enemies or not.

But now, I was asking her. I was providing her with everything she needed to know about Salvador Reyes. I was making a bargain with the enemy across the border, all so I had a chance of getting Luisa out of there alive.

Luisa was a woman who never needed saving. But this time, I was afraid she did. It was too bad that I was going to be the one to have to do it.

“I just don’t understand,” Este went on. “Why Luisa? Do you want to start a family? Have kids until you have a son to carry your name, carry your empire? You’re not the only one, Javier. All the narcos want that, all the narcos have that—except for you. But why her? You can find a hot, pretty woman who’s a good lay anywhere. You could snatch them up in a second. It would be far less complicated. You don’t need to love them to have a family. You just need a willing pussy.” He considered his own words. “Or a non-willing pussy, if you’re anything like most men.”

A few seconds ticked by in silence. I eyed the bottle of scotch I had been imbibing on for the last week, grateful I was putting my days of misery and inertia behind me.

“I just want her,” I found myself admitting. “That is all. It’s that simple.”

He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Fine. And I know you don’t believe me, but I am just looking out for you. It would be a million times easier for all of us if you just forgot about her.”

“I’ve tried. I can’t.”

“At least let me come with you,” he said. “You know if you go alone the DEA will take you. You’re playing right into their hands. They’ll arrest you.”

“Berrellez said I wouldn’t be touched,” I said. Unless I killed Salvador, I finished in my head. Then she said all bets were off. They wanted that fucker alive. That was going to be the hardest promise to keep.

“And you trust that woman?” Este laughed.

“Not really,” I admitted. “They could very well take in Sal and me at the same time. Two major cartel leaders in one raid. Wouldn’t that buy them a larger pension and a watch. Headlines all across the country chanting, ‘USA, USA!’”

“You do realize I’ll probably never see you again.”

I smiled quietly. “Bury me by the koi pond. And wait at least a day until you crack open the Cristal.”

He chuckled and I added, “Oh, and if I don’t make it out and Luisa does and you happen upon her again, promise me two things.”

He sighed and crossed his arms. “What?”

“One, that you don’t dare lay a finger on her or I will rise from my grave and fuck you up the ass. And don’t you think I won’t enjoy it—I’ll be dead and I’ll take any hole I can get. Two, that you tell her to see my sister Alana in Puerto Vallarta.”

“And then what? Even I don’t know where your sister lives.”

And I intend on keeping it that way
. “My sister will also be looking for her. I just want her to be aware.”

He looked uneasy. “Word about this will get out, you know,” he said gravely. “Everyone will know what happened and why you did it. All your enemies will know your weakness—your weakness is women.”

“Women?” I repeated, confused by the plural wording.

He nodded. “Yes. Luisa. And your sisters.”

“I don’t think many know Alana even exists, and Marguerite is safe in the US.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “I guess you can keep Luisa safe,
if
you get out alive.” He got out of his chair, ready to leave. “Any last requests? Any more noses you want cut to spite your own face?”

“Yes,” I said, twirling my watch around my wrist. “If you do take over, don’t fuck it up. I didn’t build an empire to have you come in and destroy it in seconds flat.”

“Then don’t fuck it up yourself,” he said imploringly. “Don’t do this. Let Luisa go and save your face, save your empire. Save everything you say you worked so hard to build.”

“I told you!” I snapped, frustrated with his inability to understand, though even I was having a hard time understanding myself. “I tried. I just can’t let her go. I can’t let her die.” I composed myself and added softly, avoiding the pity in his face, “I know that makes me a fool…”

“It makes you weak,” he corrected me.

I swept a shrewd eye over to him. “Or maybe it makes me strong.”

After all, a kingdom was only as good as its ruler, and a king and queen could do more damage together than a king alone.

“It makes you aggravating as all hell,” Este said sourly. He sighed. “But you wouldn’t be Javier Bernal if you weren’t.” He left the room.

I poured myself a glass of scotch and wondered if it would be the last scotch I’d ever have. Was Luisa really worth that?

But I knew she was. And if I really wanted to pretend I was still completely selfish, saving Luisa would save me from my own torture, my own demons. Not having her around was hard enough. Her absence ate at me. My dick throbbed for her when my own hand wouldn’t do. She had given me something during the short time she was with me, something I never knew I needed. Now it was gone, she was gone, and I’d become captive to the foolish notion that I could get it back.

It wasn’t that Luisa completed me—she couldn’t be the other half of my so-called soul. But she was all I could ever want, all I could ever need. If I was going to be swallowed by my own dirt one day, I’d rather have her with me, smiling and free.

The next day,
armed with as much detailed information from Juanito as possible—information I had already forwarded to Berrellez—I headed out on my suicide mission. I made sure I looked good. The finest silk and linen suit I owned. Black leather boots—a 9mm in one and my knife in another. Two .38 Supers in my harness under my jacket. A bulletproof vest under everything else.

I couldn’t do anything to protect my head, but at least my hair looked good.

I had Juanito drive me to Mazatlán and drop me off at one of the high-end resorts.

I took my seat at a flashy bar overlooking a glittering blue pool, aviator shades keeping my struggles internal and away from eyes.

“Looking good, Mr. Bernal,” a husky voice said from behind me.

I grinned to myself before I turned and shared it with Lillian Berrellez.

I looked her up and down. “You’re also looking good, Ms. Berrellez,” I said smoothly, in English.

She was a fairly tall woman, nearly my height, with a very tight, curvy build. Her tits were huge and fantastic, and her ass was larger than an aircraft carrier. Her eyes were hooded, her lips gratuitously full, her hair big and light auburn, which somehow worked with her darkly tanned skin. She was wearing a black suit that fit her perfectly.

She smiled, cheeky as always. It was her way of making you think she liked you. I knew the truth—she was tough as nails and didn’t like anybody, especially me.

“English?” she asked.

I shrugged. “It’s good for me to practice.”

“I’m guessing you won’t need any practice for what we’re about to do.”

I gave her a sly look. “I’m not sure who you think I am and what I do all day, but I can assure you that I don’t take part in government-operated raids on a daily basis. I’ll be more of a fish out of water than you.”

“Hey,” she said sharply, though her eyes were still playful. “I’ll have you know I helped initiate a bust in Culiacán that resulted in thirteen million worth of drugs and cash being seized.”

“That was you?” I asked. “Oh, your parents must be so proud.”

She glared at me. “Your English needs some work. You’re not very good at sarcasm.”

I finished up my drink and followed her through the hotel lobby and out to a waiting white SUV with tinted windows. I felt a bit like a lamb being led to the slaughter. I hoped they knew there was a lion underneath all my wool.

I climbed in the back, beside her, and was quickly introduced to her team before the vehicle roared off. There was the driver, Diego, a traitor to my country, obviously, and Greg, a gruff silver-haired dope in his early fifties who didn’t say much but obviously had a problem with the fact that Berrellez was sharing the operation with him. He only spoke up when he needed to take control.