Saint (12 page)

“Angelface, why don’t you sing that Spanish
song for Gabe.”

She sang the song. But it wasn’t for
Gabriel. It was for Francis.

* * * * *

Los Angeles

“I have good news and bad news,” Pepe
reported.

“The Carvania woman?”

“Not exactly. But we have a list of
addresses off the partial plate and they’re being checked out now.”

“And the bad news?” Juarez asked in an edgy
tone.

“We can’t find any background information
on Seth Harris. No criminal or military records, not even a work record. That
seems strange to me.”

“I’m a little disappointed you couldn’t
find more, but Hocksteder hasn’t managed to come up with anything on Will
Skaggs’ whereabouts yet. You will not report this to Hocksteder, understand?
This time we’ll take care of it ourselves.”

“Maybe Hocksteder could help track this
Seth Harris.”

“I’ll think on it.”

Benito, extremely satisfied with the turn
of events, went in search of Nina. He had ignored her too much of late and she
was becoming irritable, pouting like a child at the least little thing. Tonight
he would coddle her and pet her—he was in a good mood.

“There you are.” He found her in the pool,
slicing naked through the water. “I was lonely without you.”

“Were you?” she replied coolly.

“Ah, Nina,” Benito cajoled, “come out and I
will make it up to you.”

“You received good news then?” She ascended
the pool steps like a goddess—wet, enticingly beautiful—to stand in front of
him.

He reached out to caress her breasts. “Very
good. We will celebrate.”

He forestalled her from reaching for her
robe, pulling her against him instead. “What would I do without you, my Nina?”

“The Carvania woman cannot make you happy,
Benito.”

“Ssh.” He put a finger to her lips. “We
will not speak of her. Soon she will be gone from our lives and we will be free
of her. You still love me, hmm?”

“I’ve always loved you. Why do you ask me
such a question?”

“Because lately, I think you look for a
diversion.”

She met his gaze evenly. “I look for
nothing.”

Did she think he wouldn’t know? He knew her
as well as he knew himself. Her blood ran hot, like his. He also knew she tired
of waiting for him to fulfill his promise of long ago. Nina needed something to
look forward to. Something to keep her in line. She had grown beyond the money
and clothes and jewels. Deep down, she wanted what all women wanted—to be
owned.

The beautiful Carolyn had been owned by the
man she loved. Owned so completely that nothing his father did could break her.
It had been fascinating to watch. Carolyn was magnificent, even in bondage. It
had been an educational experience, one that still excited him to think about.
The way she laid beneath him, her proud eyes accusing as he made her feel like
a woman.

Benito had wanted to help Carolyn in the
end, but knew better than to interfere in his father’s plans. She’d been a
pleasant diversion, but not worth his life. He was meant for greater things.

“You are faithful to me always, Nina?” he
inquired lightly. “I cannot have a wife who looks elsewhere for what only I can
give her.”

“Wife?” Nina’s eyes sparkled with hope.

“That is what you want, yes?”

“More than anything!” she breathed,
pressing closer to him. “You promised.”

“Yes, I did promise.” He ran a hand down
the length of her, lighting small fires upon her skin as only he could. “And I
always keep my promises to you, don’t I?”

“You promised so very long ago. Always
there was another matter to be taken care of first.”

“It must be a small ceremony now that I am
confined in my activities. We cannot draw attention to ourselves. You
understand how important this is?”

“I understand.”

“That’s one of the reasons I love you,
Nina. You understand me.” He laid her down on the cool wet tiles surrounding
the pool, petting her, stroking her, telling her how beautiful she was and how
much he loved her.

He did love Nina, like no other woman he’d
held beneath him. She was part of him and could never be allowed to stray. It
would destroy him. It would destroy his power, everything he’d worked so hard
to build. His father had suspected he’d taken Nina to his bed as a child. But
Nina knew she must keep the secret always or face being torn from his arms.

He was her protector, her lover. He owned
her.

Chapter Six

Maria spotted the huge black man ascending
the hill on foot and strode out to meet him. At close to seven feet, she had to
drop her head back to look up at him. Bulldog features and thick lips were made
more intimidating by his muscular physique. His hands alone were three times
the size of hers. He wore his dark hair shorn so close to his head it was
barely discernible and made his head seem too small for his massive body. Slung
over his shoulder were two large duffel bags. He carried them as though they
weighed nothing

Halting directly in front of him, she
asked, “You’re him?”

“Beg pardon, Miss?”

“Him. Saint. Francis said…I’m sorry, how
rude of me.” She smiled and extended her hand, “I’m Maria.”

He ignored her hand in favor of asking, “Are
you little Jimmy’s mother?”

The question hit her like a bullet, strong
and fierce, leaving a burning path in its wake. She dropped her hand to her
side. “I’m his sister.”

“I ain’t Saint. I came to bury the
candyman.” He brushed past her without another word and continued on to the
front porch where Francis and Gabriel stood.

“What?” She turned to follow him. “Who’s
the candyman?” All these weird names they used were starting to get confusing.
But he was no more interested in answering her question than he had been in
shaking her hand.

“Joan.” Francis acknowledged with a nod of
his head. “Did you walk all the way from Mississippi?”

“Hitched a ride.”

“Joan?” Maria frowned, glancing from the
black man to Francis, then to Gabe. “He’s not Saint?”

The two on the porch chuckled at her
assumption. “Sorry,” Gabriel said wryly, “but you’re getting warmer.”

So then, this Joan—Lord, what a name for a
man—was another of the colonel’s so-called squad. She folded her arms beneath
her breasts, bristling at the amusement in the preacher’s eyes. “Who’s he
supposed to be?”

Francis clucked his tongue regretfully. “I’m
ashamed of you, Angelface. A good Catholic girl like you not knowing your
church history.”

“How do you know I’m Catholic?”

“You’ve just about fingered that poor
crucified soul off the gold cross around your neck. You mean to say you can’t
even hazard a guess at who Joan is?”

She couldn’t recall any male saints or
apostles or biblical stories mentioning a man named Joan. In fact, the only
Joan that came to mind was… Okay,
that
was going to take some getting used to.

Joan turned to size her up with beady black
eyes. “You should be more careful about approaching strangers.”

Gabriel’s mouth pulled to the side. “You’ll
have to forgive Joan. He’s not good at first impressions. The last woman who
pranced out to meet him wound up dead.”

Ignoring Gabe’s dead comment, Maria said to
Joan, “If Francis and Gabriel hadn’t known who you were, they wouldn’t have let
me anywhere near you.”

“Francis and Gabriel aren’t always right.”
Joan’s deep voice reverberated through her chest.

“Now see here, Joan,” Francis felt obliged
to object. “I’ve been right for most of my life. It’s every other son of a bitch
who didn’t see the light.”

Gabriel eyeballed Joan’s packs and snorted.
“Looks like Joan’s planning on going to a funeral, Francis.”

“I bought a new collar just for the
occasion.”

Honest to God, her head felt like it was
going to explode. “I hate when you guys do this.”

“Do what, honey?”

“Talk around me instead of to me. Too many
people have died already and I don’t—” Wait a minute. Now this Saint business
was starting to make sense.
Will
was the saint. All these men, including Seth Harris, owed Will
something and he was calling in markers, letting Harris take charge of whatever
it was they were planning. And she was pretty sure what they were planning to
do was kill Benito Juarez in cold blood. No Juarez, no trial. Wasn’t that what
Harris had said?

How could Will do this? After everything
they’d talked about. Everything she’d been through. What kind of justice was
that? “No.” Maria shook her head in denial. “You can’t just waltz into Juarez’s
home and…and murder him.”

“She’s gonna blow,” Gabriel murmured.

“I’m not risking my job, my family’s honor,
or my life for cheap revenge! My grandfather came to this country because of that
kind of sick injustice. If there’s no law, there’s no quality of life. No
soundness of mind. Jimmy isn’t going to have died for this! The agents who gave
their lives protecting me aren’t going to have nothing to show for it. There’s
no honor in slitting the man’s throat who steals your pig. Revenge only breeds
vengeance.”

“What the hell is she talking about?”

“Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.”

“Shut up, Francis!” She whirled on him,
every muscle in her body taut with anger. “I won’t be part of this. I won’t let
you use me as a cause for taking the law into your own hands. I’m not a
murderer and I won’t let you make me into one! When I face Benito Juarez, it’ll
be fair and square, across a courtroom.”

“Juarez doesn’t play fair, Angelface,”
Francis said through a stream of smoke. “If he did, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Juarez?” Joan’s eyes snapped at the
mention of the drug lord.

“Yes, Benito Juarez,” Maria told him.
“California Businessman of the Year, with contacts all along the West coast and
who knows where else. He’s respected, revered and the only way to take down his
organization is to take it apart legally. I don’t need to cheat to win. I have
more than enough on Juarez to bury him in prison for the rest of his life,
where he can think about what he’s done.”

“Oh, you want him to think about it,”
Gabriel sneered. “Don’t sweat it, sister, he will. While he’s in prison he’ll
think about ways to continue expanding his operation. He’ll bribe the prison
guards onto his payroll, buy himself open unmonitored communications with his
people on the outside and with a snap of his fingers, order your death. Can’t
buy a better alibi than that. And there are sure as shit plenty of lowlifes on
the outside more than willing to do the job for a few extra bucks. Then there’s
always parole to consider. Are you so fucking ignorant that you think he’ll do
even a quarter of the time he’s sentenced to?”

“And if you’re very, very lucky,” Francis
added, “he won’t torture you before he kills you.”

Maria looked at each of them in turn. Did
they really believe the things they said? “It’s not just about Juarez. It
involves his cronies, and the crooked congressmen, and officials and all the
people who distribute his drugs. If you kill him outright, they go free. Someone
has to stand up to them, show them they can’t use innocent kids to line their
coffers and get away with it. Jimmy didn’t do drugs. He didn’t know—”

“Calm down, honey.” Francis started down
the steps toward her.

But she was on a roll and in no hurry to quell
the anger churning her inside. “I don’t want to calm down! This isn’t about
revenge. It’s about right and wrong. The message doesn’t include murder. It
includes public scrutiny, having the spotlight turned on them, being exposed
for what and who they are. Showing kids like Jimmy that these people hide
behind respectable titles, promise the moon then don’t deliver.”

“Christ,” Gabriel spat over the railing. “Hope
you don’t hurt yourself when you fall off that high horse, Miss Do-gooder.”

“Let it go, Gabe.”

“I’m not gonna let it go,” the archangel
snarled. “Now you listen up, little gal. In the real world drug lords don’t
give a good damn about right and wrong. And the dope addicts don’t give a shit
who has to die for them to get their fix. You don’t have a fucking clue what
those strung-out whores will do for their god. Get in the way and they’ll wipe
the floor with you. You mean nothing to them. Your brother means nothing. The
bottom line is money.”

“Joan, take Gabe inside before he sticks
any more of that big-ass boot in his mouth.”

“Move, Gabe. Don’t make me say it twice.” Taller
and bigger than Gabe in every way, Joan challenged him with a look. Gabriel
spit in the dirt once more, throwing her a disgusted look before stomping into
the cabin.

Didn’t these men understand anything but
war and killing? Everything they did, everything they said revolved around
military tactics.