New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2) (26 page)

“How did you get here?” Steve asked, his eyes still filled
with fear for her.

“Knowing this network of
trails from hikes with the corgis, I ran down the trail I was on, hooked a left
and fled up a little side path.
 
When I
hit Fairway, I ran across the street where this kind shopkeeper let me use the
phone.
 
He guarded the door for
protection,” Ivy said, nodding over to the shopkeeper and giving him a little
smile.
 

Ivy shivered and said.
 
“Can we go somewhere warm and with food?
 
I’m cold and starving.”

She turned to thank the man where he stood to the side.
 
Steve sent the police car that followed them
out to patrol for the limo.
 
The agent
drove up to take over the search.
 
They
piled into Brian’s car to head back to the city, following Ivy’s directions and
stopping at an uptown restaurant.
 
Once
inside, Steve went to the bar and came back with a snifter of brandy.

“Drink half of this.
 
Treatment for shock.”

Ivy drank as instructed.
 
Her color returned and she began talking.
 
“Julio and I sat facing each other in the
limo.
 
He kept a pistol out.
 
The thugs took the gun you gave me.
 
They threw my phone away.”

He held her cell up.
 
“Used the tracker app trying to find you.
 
Thought you went off to buy me a treat of
some sort.”

The guilt and devastation on his face told her he must blame
himself for leaving her on her own in Nordstrom’s.
 
Once they
ordered
their lunches,
Ivy resumed talking.
 

“After buying two pairs of shoes, I started over to the Jo
Malone counter.
 
When a man appeared on
either side of me, each one took an arm.
 
One said something to the effect of ‘Sharpshooters
are
watching your husband.
 
One false step and he
is
dead.
 
Come with us or we
tell them to shoot.’
 

“I stifled a scream when what they said sunk in.
 
They hustled me out the door and into a limo
waiting at the curb.”

“Ivy, you never should . . .” Steve said.
 

Brian clutched his arm and shook his head.
 
Steve nodded.
 

“They heaved me into the car, pawed through my handbag, took
out the phone and the gun and tossed the bag back to me, along with my shopping.
 
On the rear seat sat Julio.
 
I faced him.
 
Once the limo started up and pulled away, I asked him what he wanted,”
Ivy stopped to take a drink of water.

“You’ll find his reply interesting.
 
‘Freedom
for
Cruze and for me
.
 
Your husband
caused the deaths of my other two cousins.
 
I am sure he wants the same for
us
.’
 

“I noted taking me hostage seemed a poor way to start a
dialog.
 
He asked for my patience while
he told me about their backgrounds.”
 

Ivy related the stories of the rape of Cruze’s mother and
the sexual exploitation of Annetta by her father then she said, “While we
meandered around, he talked about why he became Julio.
 
He spoke of how his father orchestrated
Eduardo’s kidnapping and that scene of severe abuse.”

“He or she suffered through
a
terrible
childhood.
 
How does this
affect today?” Steve asked with more than a note of exasperation.

“Steve, let me get through this.
 
Cruze’s bond with his twin brother and with
Eduardo pulled him into the life of handling the logistics of moving drugs between
Colombia
and Mexico and repackaging
them.
 
He only did that because he
supported his brothers.
 
He left the drug
world and wishes only a peaceful life.”

“What about all his crimes?
 
Getting dope to school kids?
 
Killing people who got in his way?
 
Becoming rich through illicit activities?” Steve asked in a tone that
revealed how his anger at the Fuentes was rising.

“Please, Steve.
 
I
want to tell you what happened.
 
I think
the Fuentes committed many criminal acts.
 
Right now I need you to listen,” Ivy said firmly and stopped to wait for
a signal from Steve that he would let her finish talking.

When he nodded at her, she continued.
 
“They are asking for their liberty to live
outside the United States.
 
In exchange,
they will give us all their contacts in the underworld as well as a commitment
not to retaliate against us.
 
Their list
will contain at least 50 names along with wrongdoings, addresses of operations
and other known facts.”

Ivy paused and took another sip of water, wanting to allow Steve
to think about the proposal from the Fuentes.
 
“Cruze’s contributions will be a little dated.
 
Julio’s are current.
 
Remember, he deals in information.
 
He can even identify three hackers of
government sites who accessed the databases in the DEA, the
CIA
and the FBI, among others, including
breaking into Sentinel to find out about us.
 
He and Cruze want untraceable
identities,
and they will disappear.”

Steve shook his head in an emphatic negative and then said.
“Making agreements with criminals is not the way I do things.
 
It goes against my sense of justice.”

Ivy stayed quiet, letting him ponder the offer further.
 
Even though Steve had dedicated his life to
apprehending felons, given time to assess the deal the cousins presented, she
expected rationality and fairness to prevail.
 

“Considering their offer,” he began after several minutes,
“a list of 50 scumbags with
substantial
evidence of
felonious
actions is too good
to pass up.
 
If the Fuentes give their
proof to us, they are as good as dead since a vendetta of bloodlust will be
launched against them in retribution.”

Their meals
arrived.
 
Steve ignored his.
 
Ivy picked up her burger, took a big bite,
set it down and reached for some malt vinegar for her fries.

“How do we reach them?” he asked.

She dug in her pocket and handed over an index card with a
phone
number.

“We could take their info and hunt them down,” Steve said.

Ivy studied
his
face.
 
“Not you, Agent Nielsen.
 
You epitomize the FBI motto -- ‘Fidelity,
Bravery,
Integrity’.
 
They want your personal assurance, as well as
a formal contract with the Department of Justice.”

“Let me think about this.
 
In any event, this scheme has to go to the Chiefs – former and present,”
he said and pushed his plate away almost untouched.
 
“They got to you so easily.”

“I wonder how Julio understood when and where to have those
men grab me,” Ivy said as she tucked into her fries.

“House or car or both must be bugged despite our frequent
sweeps.
 
With the right equipment, our
conversation in Nordstrom’s could have been picked up.
 
So wrong of me to have left you alone.”

“Or maybe Julio made a shopping-woman-shoes deduction,” Ivy
said, as she reached over and
laced
her
long fingers through his.
 
“Steve, I had
confidence that you would save me and that knowledge helped me push back my
fears.
 
In a
way
I’m not unhappy this happened.
 
Now we can find a speedier resolution.
 
If we proceed, I want to be the spokesperson with the two Fuentes.
 
They trusted me to deliver the message.
 
I want to negotiate with them.”

“No way.
 
I will do it
myself,” he said.

After listening to the interchange, Moll asked for more
situational context.
 
He was acquainted
with Cruze’s background from when he had worked on the Fuentes
case,
but the names of Julio and Annetta were
new to him.
 
Steve and Ivy told Brian and
Moll their accumulated research on Annetta and about the years she spent as
Julio, trading information as a valuable commodity.

“I’ll take this on,” Moll said.
 
“A friend in high school repeatedly got
shagged
by her father.
 
She told me what deep shit that did to her
head.
 
Her life became an ugly smear with
her smacked around with no way to escape.
 
She offed
herself.
 
I
always felt I failed her.”

Sadness and sincerity marked Moll’s usually blasé face.
 
He and Brian had left the FBI over a year
ago, yet Moll seemed to need to take on this dangerous task.

“You and Mathew, if he is willing.
 
Brian, Terry, Steve and I will keep your
active projects underway,” Ivy said to Moll, before turning to her husband and
gripping his hand even tighter.
 
“I want
you to protect me.
 
Even though I’m
putting up a brave front, this morning scared me, really scared me.”

Steve’s glare took a second to
lift,
and he slid an arm around her.
 
Even though he blamed himself for what
happened, Ivy placed her trust in him.
 

“Always,” he said.
 
“Let me call the Chief.
 
Brian and
Moll, do you have time to ride back with us and sweep the SUV, the house, the
barn and the tree house for bugs?”

“Sure, whatever you need,” Brian said.

As they left the restaurant and stepped into the car, Steve
gave the Chief some background on what had transpired.

"I'd like a day to draft up a proposal,” Steve said
into the phone.
 
“Here’s a few
ideas.
 
First, the Fuentes will be
arrested and prosecuted if they return to the U.S.
 
Second, the FBI will receive a sampling of
names to assess their legitimacy and value.
 
Third, the safety of all federal agents, existing and past, and their
families, neighbors and property
must
be
guaranteed.
 
Fourth, they must pay the
U.S. Treasury at least $200 million in illegal gains.
 
Fifth, if they are apprehended for engaging
in felonies in any global jurisdiction, the government will retain the right to
also prosecute them for their suspected wrongdoings here.”

Steve paused to let Mule absorb the five conditions he
rattled off, then he continued.
 
“We will
add other terms.
 
That’s the flavor of
what we’ll propose.
 
Do you think Chief
Comey will go for such a suggestion if the sample group of so-called persons of
interest pans out?"

Ivy stopped to enjoy the comfort of Steve’s presence.
 
While an arrangement such as this would not
be enough in Steve's mind, a negotiated
agreement
would reduce the danger to them and should result in real justice.
 
Other offenders could be
stopped,
and the community would receive
compensation.
 

Two abductions of a loved one in a single year – first sweet
little Susannah and now herself.
 
Were
villains more aggressive about involving
family members to achieve their ends?

Cruze and Julio switched cars in a nearby transit parking
lot, taking one the two men
heisted
and
leaving the limo for the same hired guns to return.
 
The cousins headed north to Seattle donning
disguises as they went.
 

"We’ll
depart
on
different flights using our foreign passports and regroup in
Paris,
" Julio said to reconfirm their
plans.
 

"How long do we give them?" Cruze asked

"Three days."

As Cruze negotiated out of the city, Julio asked, “Do you
think they will consider our proposal?”

“I still wonder if we did the right thing.
 
Aren’t we less safe by turning in the names
of our underworld connections?”

“At least if they come after us, we will be dead and not
imprisoned.
 
Yes, I think we picked the
lesser
of the evils.
 
In the minds of society, we were
lawbreakers
.
 
This will be our chance to make restitution for our crimes.”

He nodded.
 
Although
this course of action made him extremely uncomfortable, they had discussed the
tactic
before.
 
H
e still supported it.

“She portrayed an understanding nature – the big agent’s
wife,” Julio said.
 
“She kept her head
even under a terrifying experience.
 
When
she
listened to my retelling of our
childhoods, her face clouded with concern.
 
Funny, talking with her turned out to be not as hateful as I
expected.
 
No doubt she is back in his
arms by
now,
and he will make the
decisions.
 

“You did well.
 
Now to
sneak back to Europe.
 
This may be our
last time in the United States."

“Soon we will better understand our fates.”

Despite the threats inherent in their actions and tactics,
Cruze’s heart was gladdened to be with Julio.
 
While Julio could never be Cristo or Eduardo, Cruze could let go with
him
and he became his truer self.
 
His gentle, artistic side could now be
allowed to replace the adopted tough guy image.
 
Even though he would always miss his brothers, especially his twin, he
had someone who understood his past as well as his underlying disposition.
 
His siblings were a missing part of him, yet
now he might be granted the freedom to become the man he suppressed.
 
Even if he had cosmetic surgery and assumed
another new
identity,
he would be free to
reveal more of himself.

Down in San Francisco Mathew and an attorney for the FBI
sat across the table from the mob boss and his attorneys in the U.S. Field
Marshal facility.
 
Despite being
incarcerated and caught red-handed with the kidnapping money, the mob boss
remained disdainful of the FBI as if he did not expect the charges against him
to stick.

That morning on the fourth day of negotiations, they had
been in direct discussions for two hours and had just taken a short break.
 
For the third time, the FBI attorney repeated
the list of FBI demands.
 
At the rate
they were going, Mathew realized that it was unlikely he would be returning to
Oregon that day.
 
The mob boss was
postulating that he had no knowledge of the kidnapping but was told that the
money came from a repaid debt.

Mathew needed to come up with something to break the
deadlock in the negotiations.
 
He leaned
over to whisper to the attorney.

“Tell him we have DNA samples that put him in the same
basement room where Susannah was held captive,” Mathew said keeping his voice
soft and masking his lip movement with his hand.

“Do we?” the attorney asked in surprise.

“Just do it,” Mathew said.
 
He was
bluffing,
but it was
possible that the mob boss had been in the room at some point and had left some
hair there.

The attorney cleared his throat.
 
“We know you were in the room where the
little girl, Susannah
Straun
, was held
captive.”

The mob boss shook his head in the negative, but his
attorneys looked worried.
 
One of them
asked, “What proof do you have?”

“DNA samples of hair left in the room matched the DNA
already on file for your client.”

The mob boss and his attorneys called for a break to
confer.
 
Mathew and the FBI attorney left
the room.
 
After an hour they were called
back in.

“With no admission of guilt, but to take advantage of the
relief you are offering my client for his son and his wife, we agree to the
terms to the extent that our client can control events.
 
If any of his associates act of their own
accord, he will not be held accountable.”

Mathew shook his head and stood up to leave the room.
 
The FBI attorney rose also.
 
“No deal then.
 
We are well aware of the extent of your
client’s influence.
 
It is within his
power to comply with our terms.
 
We will
file a motion to have him moved to solitary confinement.
 
We will have his wife arrested for tax
evasion and both his sons will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”

The mob boss closed his eyes as if to conceal the pain and
anger that crossed his face.
 
Mathew
began putting papers in his briefcase and picked up his cane.

“Hold it,” the mob boss said roughly as he turned to confer
with his attorneys.

His lead attorney said, “We’ll comply.
 
You’ve got your deal.”

Mathew left the FBI attorney to draw up the required
paperwork to go to the judge.
 
He shook
his hand, then left the room feeling
a great
weight go off of his shoulders.
 
One
negotiation down and one to go.
 
While
the hours passed with frustrating slowness and were littered with gaps in time
when nothing happened, the issue should be behind them now.
 

One negotiation down and one to go.
 
At least Moll would work with him on the next
one as they struggled to find a resolution with the two Fuentes.

Mathew pulled into Rick’s driveway around six that
evening, still thinking about his last few days in San Francisco, yet glad to
be back in Oregon.
 
Talking on the phone
with Callie was not enough.
 
He wanted
her near him.
 
One more obstacle in the
form of the Fuentes and their life could begin unfold.
 

Her voice on the last call sounded different, carrying
overtones of sadness.
 
Was she
retrogressing in her
healing
journey?
 
Having Callie attracted to him filled him
with optimism and tenacity.
 
His life
neared
fruition,
and he hoped to avoid
any backsliding.
 

Starting the night when Steve had agreed to be his partner
at Spook Hills if Mathew took charge of the vineyard, the transition to serving
as the leader was becoming
more real
.
 
Now Steve had turned over the negotiations,
both in San Francisco and with the Fuentes.
 
W
hile Mathew felt capable, he also
seemed less agile as he took on more responsibilities.

Usually
on first
seeing Callie, she smiled at him from across a room.
 
This time
she waited outside the front door.
 
When
he walked up, leaning on his cane, she took hold of his shoulders, kissed him
and buried herself in his arms.

“So relieved you are back from San Francisco!
 
Give me your word you will not step into the
line of danger again.”

“Callie, I won’t give you a false assurance,” he said.
 
“For one, we must wrap up this matter of the
Fuentes and second, I will always protect those I love, my home and my friends.
 
However, I will commit not to take on new
work for the FBI.”

She gripped him tighter before pushing back and turning to
open the door to the house.
 
“I will hold
you to your promise.
 
Dinner is
ready,
and you must want to get back to Spook
Hills.”

A clatter of dishes came from the
kitchen,
and they walked there together.

“Terrible thing with Ivy today,” Rick said over the
noise
.
 
“Steve is still upset.
 
Blames
himself for what happened to her.”

“Not his mistake – he’ll work through his emotions,” Mathew
said.
 
“The main thing now is to finish
this business with the Fuentes.
 
Either
negotiate an end or otherwise carry out a just solution.
 
When I go to meet with them, and this will
take at least one face-to-face session, stick by Steve.
 
He’ll be apprehensive about me, about Moll
and about any deal we make.
 
Reassure him
his job is here as the brains of the proceedings and to safeguard everyone
associated with us.
 
We’ll conduct a
thorough briefing in the
morning,
and if
the Bureau approves
our action plan
, we
will make contact.”

“Why are you involved?” Rick asked.

“Back when I attended training at Quantico, Steve became a
sort of idol to me.
 
Even raw recruits
like us had heard about his legendary track record for solving the most
complicated
international matters.
 
He came in to conduct a guest lecture series
about cracking big, complex cases.
 
His
presence in the classroom inspired me, as well as most of the other trainees.

“Getting assigned to work with him constituted the paramount
honor of my career.
 
Not only was he an
exemplary agent and an insightful mentor,
but he
also became
a father figure to me, giving me stronger values.
 

“This Fuentes case needs to be solved and shut down.
 
The best in the FBI trained
me.
 
W
hile
I may be limping around, I am in command of the skills required for this
mediation.
 
Taking on these negotiations
is for my own self-respect.
 
I must be
the one to clear the pathway of my life to move forward.”

Rick regarded him with a slight frown, then nodded his
understanding.

“Will the work be dangerous for you?” Callie asked, pressing
into him.

“The Fuentes are major perps.
 
They can afford to hire the best of assassins
and firepower.
 
The truth is I don’t
think they want us dead as much as they want their liberty.
 
Don’t worry, I won’t take unnecessary
risks.”
 
He tightened his grip around her
hand.
 
“Too much to live for.”

Susannah ran to greet him, wrapping her arms around his
waist and laying her little head against him in the way she did, without saying
anything.
 
He bent down and gave her a
kiss on the forehead, noticing how her eyes shone with happiness.
 
He took her hand in his and stood
facing
Sassy and Rick as they put a chicken and
dumpling feast out on serving plates.
 
Callie stood on one side of him and Susannah on the other like a little
family.
 
Mathew could feel himself fill
with joy.
 
With Callie’s divorce terms
approved, they were now free to move forward in a relationship.

Ivy toweled herself off after a long hot shower to unkink
the muscles in her back spasming from the tense ride with Julio and the sprint
through the park to find safety.
 
Steve
sat out by the fire in their bedroom, ordering a gun to replace the one the
Fuentes confiscated.
  
She stopped in
front of the mirror to comb out her wet hair and slather creams on her face and
body before nestling into one of the long silken negligees Steve liked.
 
Over that, Ivy pulled on a warm fleece robe
and
slid
her feet into fuzzy slippers.

She cooked that afternoon to soothe her jangled nerves and
now the tantalizing aroma of a deep-dish lasagna wafted around the
upstairs.
 
She planned to serve it with a
crusty garlic bread, a green salad with hazelnuts and currants and a
full-bodied Chianti, to be followed by biscotti and chocolate gelato.
 
Tomorrow Lenny was to come
home.
 
H
e
was already insistent that he would move into his trailer as soon as he
regained some steadiness on his feet.
 
Ivy suspected that sooner than he should, Lenny would be back out on
patrol like an old workhorse wanting to demonstrate his value.

“Why not buy a tracking device for me?” she said, walking
over to sit on the floor by Steve’s feet, nuzzling her shoulder against his leg
and drying her hair by the fire.