Flee (21 page)

“Well, the good news, Mom, is that Blake is alive. The bad news is…”

“That we're going to have to break your ankle,” Thomas finished, coming around the corner and into view.

Mom screamed, practically dropping her empty coffee cup, and ran to embrace him.

“How… when did you… Oh, it's so good to hold you!”

“Whoa, slow down, Mom. There will be time to drill me with questions later. And it's good to see you too.” He returned her hug, and then turned to face me. “Any more news?”

“News about what?” Mom interrupted, an edge to her voice.

“Blake had marigolds placed on her car this morning.” This time Mom did drop her empty cup, shattering it at our feet.

Blake

The run had felt good. I had to admit, it had felt good in the beginning because I was free. I had simply, without warning anyone, taken off out of the door at 6:00 a.m. at a steady jog, and I had been free, for a few minutes at least. No one was watching me. No one was keeping tabs. It was just me and the early morning air, a slight chill in it, and it was glorious. I hadn't even felt guilty for not informing Big Brother of my plans, at least not until Alex and Becca had showed up on my tail, breathing hard with the exertion of having had to sprint to catch up with me.

Their presence had sapped some of my joy temporarily, but it had quickly returned as I fell into a rhythm. Meg was right. Exercise was good. The longer I ran, the better I felt. Last night's manic emotions were gone. This morning I had felt good, in control, and a little contrite for having acted so childish and pouty around Mateo. I had even spent time on the run formulating the points of my argument on why I shouldn't be guarded at every waking moment, convinced the threat to me was only imagined.

Now, judging from the reactions of the three people watching me pull the flowers out of my backpack, I had been grossly wrong. Meg was tightly gripping Thomas, her face alternating between terror and a visible fight for control. Thomas looked serious and determined, in great contrast to the laid-back surfer-boy routine he had pulled off for Mary. And Mateo looked like a man possessed, his eyes slightly wild, his fingers twitching with adrenaline. His gentle, understanding, and supportive demeanor of the previous night was gone. This Mateo was almost a stranger. I made eye contact with him, willing him to look at me and calm down.

Whatever message these flowers were sending to them, panic would not help. I knew that from experience. I never wanted to feel helpless and panicked again. The horrible path I had walked this year had made me stronger, I realized. Being with Mateo had made me stronger. We could handle this together. I was certain.

Still looking into my eyes, Mateo took a deep breath. His shoulders relaxed a little, and the expression on his face downgraded from murderous to intensely determined. I placed the marigolds on the granite countertop, dropped my backpack onto the floor, and moved to grab Mateo's hand. He immediately pulled me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me as if to shield me. His hold was tight, protective but not suffocating.

“So,” I began when no one else spoke. “I'm guessing these flowers mean something of which I'm not aware?”

Thomas had the marigolds in hand now, turning them over, examining all sides. He sat them back down after a minute, a scowl on his face.

“Do you know anything about Day of the Dead?” he asked, looking at me and continuing when I shook my head no.

“
Dia de los Muertos
is what we call it back home. In Mexico, on November first and sometimes second, we celebrate and honor the dead. It's sort of a combination of old Aztec traditions and the Catholic All Saints' Day. Marigolds are the traditional flower used. They're placed on graves or at private shrines people build to remember and honor their loved ones who have passed on.” Thomas paused, running his fingers through his hair as he seemed to consider what to say next.

“So maybe someone put the flowers on my car to honor my parents?” I asked, confused.

Thomas laughed, a hard cynical sound. “I think whoever put the flowers on your car is responsible for the death of your parents.”

My knees suddenly felt weak. I was glad Mateo was supporting me or I might have sunk to the ground. My early morning freedom run now seemed sinister, and I shuddered. He led me into the living room, Thomas and Meg following, and sat me down on the couch before sitting close beside me.

“So, someone is mocking me? Pouring salt on my wounds?” I was still confused, and now a little upset. But I was also hopeful. The killer was close? Maybe now we could catch him.

“No, it's more than that. Let's go back over what we know.” Mateo's voice was careful, controlled.

If he was trying to soften hard facts and make them more palatable, he might as well give up. Nothing about the situation was palatable.

“I want to make sure Thomas knows everything, and see if he has any new insight. Oh, Hector, you're just in time. Please fill in anything I might miss.” Hector had quietly entered through the back patio door, Foster right behind him. They both looked serious and determined.

“First, we know your parents were murdered by Las Lunas. Their trademark call sign, if you will, was left at the scene of the crime. Second, we're fairly certain it's because your father was sent information containing an elaborate trade route and delivery dates for what we assume is an upcoming shipment. We also know a former college buddy who is Mexican sent the information. We don't know who that is, or why he sent it, or what your father intended to do with the information. We've contacted all the men in your father's college poker group. They all only knew this man by his nickname.”

Mateo was stroking my hand softly as he talked, as if willing me to stay calm. I drew strength from his touch.

“Third, we know both this house and Joe and Mary's house have been watched at some point and might still be. We know it's from someone who smokes a local brand of Mexican cigarettes, not commonly imported. Fourth, we highly suspect there's a mole in the police department, which is why we haven't shared any of our information with them.”

I gasped, picturing the faces of the kind detectives I had spoken with many times over the course of the investigation. This was new information to me.

“And then there's Danny.” Mateo's voice was harsher now, his eyes narrowed. “He and his father concern us. They show up here unexpectedly, shortly after I do and after we establish a relationship. They have family in the area of Mexico controlled by Las Lunas, but not overt connections that we can uncover to the group itself, although we are still looking. And I don't trust him. Call it instinct, but he's not what he's posing to be, and I think he's dangerous.”

“That's circumstantial,” I replied automatically, feeling every bit like my father's daughter. “You have nothing real to go on there.”

“I know. It's maddening,” Mateo replied. “Then, finally, the flowers. Blake, I wish I didn't have to tell you, but you need to know that Las Lunas is fond of delivering marigolds to their intended victims. It's like mental torture for them.”

“You mean…” I paused, not sure I wanted to connect the dots here. Thomas did it for me.

“You've been marked for death.”

****

It's funny, all the times I had wished for death and the opportunity to join my parents and Brody and had been denied. And here, finally, it was offering itself to me, and I was horrified. Life was once again precious. Mateo was precious. I wanted my happily ever after. I'd thought I'd lost it once, and it had been restored. I could not lose it again.

“Well, seeing as how I have no intention of dying, they'll just have to be disappointed, won't they?” There was a steely edge to my voice now. They may have snuck up on me before and stolen all that I had that was worthy, but I would not be a victim again. I would fight for what I had now. For life, for love, for a future. Maybe I would lose, but I would not make it easy.

“Thatta girl,” Thomas said, suddenly grinning. He was nodding in approval.

His sudden light-hearted spirit seemed to relax the room. Meg let go of the tight grip she had on the edge of the chair.

“Hector,” he continued, “Do you have any new info?”

“Our tail on Danny reports that he left his house at five-thirty this morning on his bicycle. He was dressed in cycling clothes and shoes and a helmet, with no possible way to conceal a bouquet of flowers. He returned an hour later, sweaty and red-faced, as if he had been on a long ride. The tail did attempt to follow him, but couldn't run fast enough to keep up to the bike and didn't think following along slowly in a car would be prudent. It's very possible he placed the flowers on the car. He could have had them stashed anywhere along the way. It's also possible he was just on a ride.”

“At five-thirty in the morning? Isn't it dangerous to cycle in the dark?” Mateo was worked up. It just wasn't possible for him to be objective over Danny.

“Lots of Austinites cycle at five-thirty, son. It wouldn't be a time I picked, but there are thousands of cyclists in Austin who get an early start.”

It was the first time Meg had spoken since shattering her cup. She still sounded shaken up, but I appreciated that she was trying to be a voice of reason.

“What do we do?” I asked, anxious to get a plan in place.

Mateo grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

“For today, we stay here and try to decipher the evidence. I don't want you to leave this place today, okay? I'm going to call Joe and Mary later and see if I can get permission for you to stay the night. We'll figure out what to do about tomorrow later. Obviously, the sooner we can get this figured out and dealt with, the better.”

“What do you mean, dealt with?”

The murderous expression was back in his eyes.

I held my breath as I awaited his reply. Meg was doing the same.

“We carefully hand him over to the police with all of the evidence, and we do it publicly. We involve the media immediately, so if there is a mole, he will be disabled from tampering with anything. But first, we give him a little warning of our own.”

I had been relaxing as his plan had unfolded, but his last statement caused me to tense up again. Thomas was smiling. It wasn't hard to tell he was looking forward to the opportunity.

“What kind of warning? Mateo, I don't like that. You could get hurt.” There could be no happily ever after if there was no Mateo. For the first time since learning I had been marked for death, I felt panicked.

“Don't worry, only the bad guys will get hurt.” Thomas' whole demeanor exuded confidence. I could understand why Mateo valued his presence and advice. He was cool under pressure. He seemed to even enjoy it. Mateo leaned forward then and softly whispered in my ear.

“I won't let anything hurt you, Blakesy. I won't let anything hurt me either, because I know that would hurt you. It'll be okay. But you've got to promise me that you'll do what we say. We can't keep you safe if you don't stick with the plan.”

It was the first time he had used my dad's nickname for me. When Joe had tried, I had resented it. But from Mateo's lips, it sounded comforting and familiar. I nodded. Of course I would follow the plan. As a matter of fact, I wanted in on the plan. I had to ensure Mateo wasn't going to get vengeful and put himself in harm's way. I had to know he was safe.

“Excellent,” Thomas said. “Now, show me this list you found. I want to see if you missed any clues on it. Hector, Foster, go examine Blake's car. See if there are any fingerprints or other evidence. Mom, can you order an orthopedic boot for your supposed broken ankle and have it delivered? Joe or Mary or really anyone might stop by, and we need to corroborate the broken ankle story.”

“Yes, my liege,” Hector answered, smiling and good-naturedly punching Thomas on the shoulder. Thomas grinned and gave him an impulsive hug. It was obvious they were glad to be together again. They left the room, Meg trailing them. Foster followed Hector out, and Mateo stood, pulling me up with him.

“Well, I sure know how to clear a room,” I said, looking around at the now-empty space. “What do we do?”

“I don't know about you,” he replied, yawning. “But I'm going to get some more shut eye.”

“That sounds wildly exciting,” I answered, rolling my eyes. From murderous rage to sleepy in twenty minutes or less. How did he do that?

“I think I'll work on my government paper, then,” I replied. How boring, how every day. Someone wanted me dead, and I was going off to research the arguments for and against civil disobedience. But I had to do something to distract myself. For a minute I wished I could crawl up in bed beside Mateo and nap, but I knew he would never allow that.

“Type in my room while I sleep?” he asked. “I kind of don't want you out of my sight.”

“Your eyes will be closed, goofy. Of course I'll be out of your sight.” But my heart was beating faster, as it always did when he expressed his desire to be with me. I wanted to be with him also.

“You know what I mean,” he replied, yawning again. He reached for me, I thought to grab my hand, but was shocked when he bent and kissed me softly and quickly on the lips. The surprised expression on my face must have been something to behold, because he laughed and said, “I think I can handle that much, at least within safe parameters.” He deliberately glanced at his mom in the kitchen and then turned to walk down the hall. I followed him to his room, where he very obviously left the door wide open and plopped fully clothed on top of his covers. Within seconds, he was asleep, and I was trying to pay more attention to his computer than to his peaceful, beautiful face and failing miserably.

****

The sound of low, murmuring voices filtered into the hallway I traversed three hours later on my way to the living room. My eyes were practically crossed from staring at the computer screen, my paper halfway finished. Mateo was still sound asleep on top of his bed, snoring softly. I was tempted to stay and watch him sleep. I drew strength from his presence, but my stomach was growling in protest of my missed breakfast, so I was off in search of food. Meg sat on the couch beside Thomas, holding his hand and catching up on the last few months. She patted the seat beside her when she saw me enter, and I moved to sit down.

“He's been amazing,” Meg was saying. They must be talking about Mateo. “You should be so proud of him.”

“I've always been proud of him,” Thomas returned. “I knew he would do a good job keeping you safe and establishing a home and life here. If I hadn't trusted him, I wouldn't have been able to watch you leave. I was worried about you, though. You were pretty messed up when you left.”

“I was pretty messed up for a while here, too. Mateo took care of everything. I didn't even know he had hired security and that I was being followed at first. He didn't want to worry me. He kept me safe and pushed me to do things he knew would make me happy. And he brought me Blake.”

Meg smiled at me then and I smiled back, though I wondered what good my presence had done for her.

“I didn't even know I needed her, and then I was afraid her association with us would endanger her so I warned him to stay away.” She chuckled. “That was like telling the waves to stay away from the shore. He needs her like he needs air to breathe.”

“No, I need him,” I whispered. If Thomas thought Meg was a mess, he should have seen me. I hadn't been able to eat. Or sleep. Or talk. I'm not sure I had even wanted to live.

Thomas was looking at me, analyzing what I was. I could almost hear him thinking
Is she good enough for him
? He watched Mateo with a fierce, big brother protectiveness and almost a reverence. Come to think of it, Meg and Hector also seemed to have an underlying deep respect and awe for Mateo.
I
knew he was special. I guess I hadn't realized how much everyone who knew him sensed this as well. And I understood Thomas' concern. I hadn't brought anything but more trouble to Mateo. More to worry about. More to take care of. More danger. He deserved better than me.

Maybe I should just walk out and let whoever was after me have me and save everyone all of this trouble. The whole Reyna family had enough to worry about without adding me to the mix.

I made eye contact with Thomas, hesitant but unflinching. I wanted him to know that I understood, and that I agreed. Mateo deserved better than what I had brought to his life. My dad had been killed because he had dangerous information. It seemed my mom was killed because she was with him. Now I had the dangerous information. And Mateo was always with me. It didn't matter that he had the information too. They didn't know that. I had to minimize his risk. I was almost frantic to do it. I couldn't be the cause of him being hurt. I couldn't even imagine him being killed. My mind would just not go there.

“My little brother, the savior.” Thomas laughed once when he said this, but the sound was not sarcastic. The awe was there, along with the protectiveness. “He's always been special, hasn't he? I didn't realize until you guys were gone how much he kept me on the straight and narrow. It's like his soul contains light, and when he was gone I felt the darkness closing in.”

I couldn't have said it better myself. It helped explain why my dark and damaged heart clung to him. What I didn't understand was why someone like that wanted someone like me.

“Tell me what's happening at home, Thomas. I need to know.” Meg's voice was quiet and filled with pain, but her head was held high and her face determined.

I started to get up. This was not my business and I felt like an intruder for the first time since Mateo and Meg had welcomed me to their home. Without thinking, I had embraced them as family, a family I desperately needed. But now, looking at things through Thomas' eyes, hearing his unspoken thoughts, I knew I didn't deserve to be here. Upset, I started to move to the kitchen. Mateo, coming down the hall with rumpled clothes and disheveled hair saw me and smiled. He was so beautiful, inside and out, that it took my breath away.
You should be surrounded with goodness
, I thought
. Not me
. Even if my heart could continue to heal and I could cease to be damaged goods, it seemed my past would not let me go. And my past brought danger.

Looking at me, Mateo creased his eyebrows together, concern etched on his face. He moved quickly to my side and I looked down, trying to mask my emotions. I felt his hand under my chin, gently forcing my face up until he could look in my eyes. He didn't say anything. He just wiped away the tears that were now falling from my eyes and pulled me in to hug me.

“It'll be okay,” he whispered into my hair, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Yes, it will
.
At least for you
. I knew with certainty that I had to face and eliminate this threat without it hurting him. This was my problem and I had dragged him into it long enough. Maybe, once the threat was gone and there was no more danger, I could be good enough to deserve his love. I knew I would try with everything in me. Standing quietly, we could hear Thomas talking to Meg. Mateo took my hand and led me back into the living room to listen.

“I'm not sure I can explain what's going on at home, Mom. I feel like I've been gathering random pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and trying to piece them together and figure out what I'm looking at, but I don't even know how many pieces there are.” Thomas hesitated as Mateo and I sat down on the big chair across from the couch, his gaze stopping first on our held hands and then on Mateo who hovered over me. “Two years ago when our family's, uh, less desirable business transactions came to light…”

“You mean criminal and morally wrong, Thomas. Don't sugarcoat it.” Mateo interrupted, his voice slightly angry.

“You're right, of course. I just wasn't sure how much Blake knows, so I was being careful.”

“She knows everything. Why would I keep secrets from her?” Mateo sounded perplexed.

Thomas simply raised his eyebrows, as if to say,
Why indeed
? And then continued.

“Okay, so two years ago when our family's
criminal and morally wrong
business transactions came to light, I would have sworn Dad was as surprised as any of us. Well, any of us except Juan Carlos. He was always close to Eduardo. I think he knew, or at least suspected. Anyway, at that time I thought, I guess we all thought, that Dad would disassociate himself and us from it as quickly as possible. He promised us that, but he's had time to make that happen. Two years' worth of time, and still he continues to operate as new head of the Baja cartel, with JC as his number two. It's like I don't know either of them anymore.”

Big tears were silently pouring down Meg's face as she listened. She didn't bother to wipe them away. She just clung to Thomas' hand and nodded at him to continue.

“I've been given full access to all of the financial transactions for all of the legitimate Reyna businesses. I can tell you this, everything we have ever lived off of, everything we are all living off of now, even Dad and JC, is from those businesses. Not one peso of money we have spent as a family has come from the cartel. Dad has kept it completely separate. What he's doing with the cartel profits, I can't say. I haven't been allowed access to any of it, nor am I privy to what's going on there. They've kept me locked out of all that. As far as they're concerned, I function as the CFO of Reyna Enterprises, and they trust me fully to oversee everything pertaining to that. I'm supposed to turn a blind eye to whatever they're doing.

"And they watch me like a hawk. But not in a distrusting way, more of like in a protective way. As if I'm facing some unknown threat and they're keeping me from it. I know they monitor all my comings and goings and my phone calls. I was shocked they let me come here. They may be pretending you don't exist, but they do a poor job of it. Dad's proud of you, Mom. He knows you're continuing all of your charitable work, and that you were a driving force behind getting a well installed in that mountain village last month. I saw him reading the report from the board and smiling and laughing. He misses you. He just won't admit it.”

Meg put her face in her hands then and really cried.

Thomas patted her back while turning to Mateo. “And you may not know, but Hector mailed all of the footage of you playing football. He captured every kick and punt you ever made.”

Mateo groaned, a little embarrassed but also enraptured by what Thomas was saying.

“He's watched it over and over. I can hear it playing in his study or sometimes in his room at night. He's proud of you, too.”

Mateo smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. I squeezed his hand.

“So, despite my best efforts, I've learned nothing in all of the time that you've been gone. And then suddenly, I'm sent away. They told me to come make sure you were safe and not to come back until they sent for me. Something's going to happen. What, I don't know. But I do know the timing of my departure wasn't random.” He paused, as if considering whether to continue, and then quietly said, “And I know JC has some sort of connection to Las Lunas.”

Meg and Mateo and I all gasped at this.

It was Meg who spoke first, her voice shaky. “What kind of connection?”

“I don't know. I'm hoping it's a major defection on their part. When I left early yesterday morning, I forgot one of my bags, so I had the driver turn around and go back to the house. I saw from my bedroom window that JC was in the hills behind the yard, climbing. His path would have been hard to see from anywhere but my window. You know it's the only one that faces the southwest corner of the property. He looked like he was up to something, so I followed him, crawling through the brush so he wouldn't see me. He got over the hill and stopped and waited until a jeep picked him up. The jeep was driven by Joaquin De La Garza.”

Mateo gagged, jumping up and staring intently into Thomas' eyes. “Are you sure? You weren't close. You could've been mistaken.”

“Mattie, I was at university with him. I know him. I wish I was wrong.” Thomas sounded sick as well.

I sat still, frozen, not knowing how to help.

“This day just gets better and better.” Mateo exploded. “What's he up too?”

“I don't know. Maybe it's good news, though. I called Dad from the airport and told him what I knew. He said everything was under control and to enjoy my visit. What I want to believe is that Joaquin is betraying his family. That would be unprecedented, and I have no evidence to back it up, but it's the most obvious option. It's weird, Mattie, something's going on, and I've been sent out of the way.” Thomas paused and covered his eyes with his hand for a minute, as if trying to connect the dots on a picture he couldn't clearly see. “Look, I'm not sure what to do with that information, but I do know the most pressing problem we have right now is sitting right behind you.”

I didn't like how he phrased that, but he was right. I was the problem. I wanted to talk with Thomas alone to find out how I could separate myself from Mateo and try to take care of things on my own. I needed his advice on how to do that. This was way out of the realm of my experience. The only thing I knew, and I was sure Thomas was in agreement, was that Mateo must not get hurt because of me.

Mateo sat back down beside me, clearly agitated. “Did we dig anything up while I was asleep?”

Thomas smiled and shook his head no. “What do you mean
we,
sleepy head? But no, nothing. No prints on the car, no more clues. We're still looking, though.”

A plan was beginning to take shape in my head. I would need to talk with Thomas to see how plausible it was, but it made sense to me. If there were no clues, then we needed bait. Mateo would potentially be in danger as long as he was trying to protect me, but if I could draw the killer out without him knowing, to let myself be vulnerable whenever Mateo was not around and hope the security team was good enough to get the killer before he got me, then the danger would be past. The problem was Mateo that was always around. That's what we both preferred. How was I going to get away?

“I'm also still examining the evidence you recovered from Blake's dad.” Thomas continued, snapping me out of my silent reverie. “I, uh would like to ask Juan Carlos about it. There's something on there, the name of one of the deposit sites, that reminds me of something I overheard him say once. What do you think?” Thomas's voice was humble, uncertain. He seemed to be asking Mateo for more than just permission, to consider whether it was even wise to go there.

I glanced at Mateo. I could tell he was thinking hard, his brow furrowed in concentration. Finally he spoke.

“You just told me you saw him getting into a car with Joaquin De La Garza. He's not to be trusted now more than ever. And yet you've already given him crucial information.”

Thomas looked a little chagrined, but he held Mateo's gaze.

“He's a lot of things, Mattie, but bottom line, he's our brother. We do not betray family. Not even Juan Carlos would do that. You know that.”

“But Blake isn't his family. He has no reason to not betray her.” Mateo's voice raised an octave with emotion.

“To betray her is to betray you. He'll know that. He won't cross that line, Mateo. Think about it. He's hardened and determined and even ruthless to his enemies, but we're not his enemy. We're family, and he will be loyal.”

“I hope you're right, Thomas. For the love of all that is holy, I hope you're right.” Mateo nodded once then, a quick curt gesture, and went to stand beside Meg.