Find Me Maggie (6 page)

Chapter Seven

The thing about being on the run is that you’re always looking over your shoulder when you should be paying attention to where you’re headed. We’d managed to put a few hundred miles between the head of the Russian mob and us, but it was getting late and both Miguel and I were exhausted.

We found a No-Tell Motel just outside of Redding, California and since the desk clerk was male, I was up to bat.

I yanked my shirt down in front and readjusted my boobs so they were spilling out the V-neck. Letting my hair down from its ponytail, I shook it out. A little lipstick and I was good to go.

I put an extra swing in my step as I came through the door. “Hi.”

The clerk did a jerky double take then cracked a stained, gap-toothed smile to rival any meth addict’s. “Hellooooo.”

“I need a room. A double. But…” I arched my back a little, leaning forward to rest my breasts on the countertop. “I don’t have any ID. Is that going to be a problem?”

His gaze zeroed in on Wanda and Wendy, giving them a visual groping I could almost feel. “Do you, um, have a credit card?”

I tried to sound sad, putting out my bottom lip a little. “No.”

“Well, now, that’s a problem.”

“It is? But it’s so late. And I’m
so
tired.”

“I guess maybe…maybe I could overlook it.”

“You’re the best.” I jumped a little, making the Wonder Twins bounce. “Could I get a room at the back? Bottom floor, please? I just need it for tonight.”

“You’ll have to pay up front. And there’s a twenty-dollar fee for ah, overlooking your lack of ID and credit card.”

“No problem.” I handed over the cash.

“Room 52.” He held out the key, but when I grabbed it he didn’t let go. “Why do you need two beds?”

“My girlfriend and I are planning to push them together to make one big bed so we can have a really bouncy naked pillow fight.”

His jaw dropped open and his grip went slack. “Ahh…”

I snatched the key from him. Turning back as I left, I gave him a finger wave over my shoulder. “Toodles.”

As soon as I got in the car, I burst out laughing. “What is it with guys and naked girl-on-girl pillow fights?”

“If you have to ask you’ll never get it,” Miguel said. “It’s a dude thing.”

He drove us around to our room at the back of the hotel and backed into the parking space for a quick getaway.

“I wish I could call Alice,” Miguel said as he flipped through one fuzzy channel after another on the TV. So much for the advertised cable TV.

Maybe talking to Alice and hearing her news would light a fire under Miguel to get his shit together and start thinking of someone other than himself for a change.

“As long as you use the hotel room phone and make it quick that shouldn’t be a problem.”

I really needed to check in with Super Agent, but I was afraid he’d do a reverse number look-up or something and be on us faster than the bedbugs I was sure were crawling around on these hideously patterned comforters. I wasn’t ready to face him and the repercussions of what I’d done to save Miguel yet.

A few minutes into Miguel’s call his face went totally white underneath his week’s worth of scruff.
Congratulations
, I mouthed and then pretended to rock an imaginary baby. He glared back at me and turned away, whispering into the receiver.

After a couple more minutes he placed the phone back into its cradle. “You knew about Alice?”

“Yeah. It’s one of the reasons I’m here saving your sorry ass. It’s bad enough my future niece or nephew has a dumbass for a father. I couldn’t let them grow up with a
dead
dumbass for a father.”

He dropped his head into his hands and doubled over. “Holy shit. I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it, Daddy Dumbass.”

His head popped up and he fixed me with a look that was a mixture of pissed-off and scared shitless. “Would you quit it with the dumbass remarks? I’m freaking the fuck out right now. The least you could do is cut the I-told-you-so’s down to about half for a change. I swear sometimes you sound so much like Mom—”

“Don’t even put this on me with that sounding-like-Mom bullshit. You put your lot in with Sergei, who you knew would cheat you or in some other way or another try to twist things his direction. Then you ran away instead of going to the cops. On top of that you knocked up your girlfriend. And this is all somehow
my
fault?”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault. I’m trying to take responsibility here and fix things. The least you can do is try to see it!”

“What I see is a guy who manages to not only fuck up his own life but everyone else’s he comes in contact with. You want to take responsibility? You want to be the big man? Then don’t make dumbass decisions on top of dumbass decisions.”

“You’re always so critical and judgmental. It wasn’t that long ago when you were knocked up by Sergei. Talk about throwing your lot in. What the fuck do you think that was? Who are you to judge me?”

“That’s a low blow even for you.”

“But it’s the truth. Who’s the dumbass now?”

“You still are. By miles. I got out. I gave my baby up for adoption and turned my life around. You’re still doing the same shit you’ve done since before you got out of high school. Only now the stakes are higher. You think I want to tell Mom you’re dead? Go to your funeral? Or hold Alice’s hand while she gives birth to your fatherless child? It’s past time you woke up and got a fucking clue, Miguel. Your actions have effects you can’t even begin to—”

BAM!

The door crashed open.

“FBI!”

A swarm of agents flooded the room. There was a lot of shouting about hands getting up and bellies on the ground. Next thing I knew I was facedown on the carpet with two of them on top of me. And not in a good way.

More yelling.

I turned my head toward the noise. Miguel was trying to fight them off.
Whack!
They hit him and he went down hard.

“Miguel!” I struggled against their grip and to knock off the guy who was practically sitting on me. “Don’t hurt him!”

The agent on top of me hauled me up by the arms, pushed me up against the wall and frisked me. My lipstick, cash and credit card hit the bed.

“Maggie Mae Castro, you’re under arrest.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. A million times shit!

Chapter Eight

Miguel and I were taken to the Sacramento FBI office, shoved in a room and handcuffed to a bench. This wasn’t the first time I’d been arrested, but it was the first time I’d ever been arrested by a federal agency. My reward for trying to save my idiot brother. I couldn’t wait to see Super Agent’s face when he came to bail me out. Only there would be no bailing me out this time. I’d gone too far.

Would he visit me in prison? The conjugal visits would be freakin’
amazing
.

A federal prisoner and a federal agent. That would look really awesome on our wedding invitations. I wondered if they made bride-and-groom cake toppers with the groom in an ill-fitting suit and the bride in an orange jumpsuit. Maybe the wedding planner could work orange into the overall theme.

Oh, who was I kidding? He’d drop me like the career-ender I was. And rightly so.

“What’s it like?”

Miguel’s quiet question drew me out of my tortured musings. “What?”

“Having a kid?”

“Jesus.” He’d caught me off guard with that question. I
never
talked about this. Never. “It hurts like a son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, but what’s it
like
?”

“How in the hell should I know? I didn’t stick around past the hurting-like-hell part. Why are we talking about this
now
?”

“Do you think I’ll be a good father? You know…if I ever get out of jail.”

“I hope… No, I
think
you’ll do the best you can. At least you’d better.”

“I’ll try. It’s going to suck not being there for the birth. For Alice.”

“At least you’ll be involved however you can. You will, won’t you?” At his nod I let out a tense breath. I’d been half afraid Miguel would run from fatherhood just like our dad had. We didn’t have the best parental role models. “I’ll tell you this… It hurt twice as much doing it alone. Going through everything, making decisions…all of it alone. I didn’t want that for Alice. I didn’t want your child’s mother to go through what I went through.”

I lowered my head, trying to hide the sudden tears at the backs of my eyes. “And I didn’t want your child growing up with half of what he should have like we did.”

“Do you ever think about her?”

“Can we stop talking about this shit now? This room is likely wired.”

“You’re probably right.” He exhaled a heavy breath. “Thanks.”

“What for?”

“For finding me. If you hadn’t…”

“I told you to shut the fuck up. Don’t you ever listen?”

He chuckled. “I love you too.”

“Fuck off.” Then after a moment, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get another chance to tell him face to face… “I love you too.”

He grinned at me and he looked so much like our father at our age the tears started pricking my eyes again. What the hell was wrong with me today?

The door opened and in walked Super Agent with a couple of the suits who’d burst through our hotel room door. Man, he looked good. And pissed. Reeeaaally pissed.

“Uncuff her,” he told one of the agents, hauling a chair over to sit on backwards. “You want to tell me why you didn’t follow the plan?” Uh, yeah. Totally pissed. Man, he was hot when angry, all puffed up and stern-faced. Da-yum.

I rubbed at my sore wrists. “There were complications.”

He glanced over at Miguel then back at me. “I can only imagine.”

“What plan?” Miguel asked.

“You stole a car,” Super Agent said, completely ignoring Miguel.

“Sergei put a tracker on the rental and there was no time to procure a new rental. So I improvised.”

Miguel piped up again. “What plan? What the hell is going on here?”

“You were supposed to get him and get to the rendezvous point. What happened?”

“I told you,
there was no time
. Sergei was on to your plan so I made a new one.”

Super Agent made some kind of hand signal. The other agents freed Miguel from the bench and started to haul him out of the room.

Miguel fixed me with a mistrustful glare, turning to look over his shoulder as they pulled him out the door. “What the hell is going on here, Maggie?”

I only hoped when Miguel heard the full extent of what I’d done for him, he’d forgive me and go along with whatever the FBI wanted. Unfortunately my brother was the kind of guy who would somehow manage to find a way to screw up winning the lottery.

Chapter Nine

When we were finally alone, Super Agent reached out and traced a finger along my jaw. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I wish your guys hadn’t busted down the door when they did. What kind of high-school dropouts is the FBI hiring these days?”

“They thought there might be trouble. They heard yelling.”

“That was me giving my idiot brother the lecture he deserved. One of your guys whacked Miguel with a club. Was that totally necessary?”

“I heard he resisted arrest.”

“And I heard my boyfriend promise me I wouldn’t end up in handcuffs when all this shook out.” I held up my hands to show him the marks from the cuffs. “I also heard him say no one would get hurt.” I wasn’t quite over seeing Miguel get struck by that agent. I could beat the crap out of my brother, but I’d kill anyone who tried to lay a finger on him.

“I’m sorry about that. Since you didn’t follow the plan, the agents sent to get you weren’t up to speed on who everyone was.”

“There were only two of us! We’re twins. It’s not that hard to fucking figure out.”

He looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Like I said, I’m sorry.”

“You put a tracker on me, didn’t you?” I’d wondered how his FBI guys had found us, and a tracker was the only explanation I could come up with. I should’ve been mad at his nodded confirmation, but I was more curious about how he’d managed it. “How? I ditched everything.”

“Your lipstick. You’re never without it.”

“Well, damn. A girl likes to think she’s a
little
bit mysterious.”

“Trust me. You’re a constant riddle with an ever-changing solution. What did you get from Miguel?”

“It’s like I suspected. Sergei took the money.”

“And you were going to tell me this when…?”

“When I knew for sure. Miguel managed to get the offshore bank account number. As far as I can tell, Sergei doesn’t know he has it.”

Super Agent pulled out his cell phone. “Castro has the info we need. A bank account. Yeah. Really? Okay. Thanks.” He punched the
End
button on the call. “Miguel’s copping to the stolen car. He’s saying it was all his idea.”

“My brother’s an idiot who got in bed with the Russian mob. Not quite the mastermind behind our little escape job.” I jabbed my thumb to my chest. “That would be me.”