The Asset (21 page)

The doctor who tended to my injuries on a regular basis never asked me what happened or why I kept getting hurt. The private tutor who schooled me every day taught me the history of Martin Luther King Jr. but never discussed the terms of my slavery. I was the compound’s most visible invisible woman.

I learned a lot about Red in the early years, mostly by watching, listening and paying attention. The Devil of Caquetá was the most powerful drug lord in Southwest Colombia. He controlled not only the region’s cocaine production, but also the distribution routes to North America.

He worked in tandem with the guerrillas and had an extensive network of politicians, attorneys and associates on his payroll. He used my father’s passport when he traveled abroad, something he began to do with more frequency. By now, his English was not only perfect, it was eloquent. All those nights listening to my father’s stories had served his purpose. He’d stolen my father’s identity to set up his next gig.

But I only began to comprehend the range of Red’s extraordinary ambitions on the day that the judge showed up at the house, the day after my eighteenth birthday. The maid insisted I wear a new dress, white lace trimmed with red roses. I disliked it instantly. The shouts of Red’s wife reached my room. After a while, the screams ended and I never saw her again.

The maid nudged me downstairs. Red waited at the bottom of the marble staircase, holding a small bouquet—roses, of course. He led me into the salon, where the judge handed me a pen and pointed to the blank line at the bottom of the document on the desk.

I looked to Red.

“Sign and your brother will get a new dirt bike,” he said.

I penned my signature and traded my life and whatever little remained of my dignity for a dirt bike.

“Today you become a Rojas and I become an American.” Red put his hand around my waist and posed for the photographer who appeared out of nowhere. “Smile for the consulate,
querida
. America, here we come.”

Chapter Fifteen

Ash’s hold didn’t waver as I told my story. He listened to every word I said, processing and absorbing the information with his usual intensity. It helped that I didn’t have to look at his face. Instead, despite the pain shredding my insides, I spoke factually, keeping my eyes focused on the lake and the black-capped chickadee hanging upside down from a nearby branch. Upside down with evil at the horizon. That’s what my world had been like. All that grief wanted to drown me.

“Christ, Lia,” Ash said. “You never cease to amaze me. You’re a formidable contender.”

“Me?” He wouldn’t think so if only he realized how many times I’d failed at running away from Red, how many mistakes I’d made and how often I’d had to please Red, despite myself. “I don’t feel very formidable.”

“But you are.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now bear with me. What happened once Red came to the United States?”

“Miami, New York, Chicago, LA.” I remembered going to all those places as if sleepwalking. “He worked the country like a global CEO. The Rojas Cartel flourished in the United States. Marijuana, cocaine and heroin were Red’s ‘core’ products, as he liked to call them.”

“I found many state and federal investigations on both Red and the Rojas Cartel,” Ash said. “Why didn’t those investigations lead to indictments?”

“He was always ahead of the game.” I combed my fingers through Neil’s coat, leaving tracks on his fur along his spine. “Red schemed and bribed everyone in his path. If a case was about to go in front of a judge, he’d find out the judge’s weaknesses, document them on camera or telephone recordings and use the information to blackmail the judge into dismissing the case. He did the same thing with police commissioners, prosecutors and legislators. He used to have an ultrasecret safe at his Miami house where he kept a single, encoded thumb drive that contained those files.”

“Interesting.” Ash paused, thinking over the information. “Why shift if things were going so well?”

“Things got tougher in Colombia.” If only I could forget that time of my life. “A new administration cracked down on the illegal drug trade and the guerrillas, hurting Red in the pocket. The DEA and the FBI teamed up with the Colombian government against the drug traffickers. It’s not like he stopped trafficking drugs, but in order to expand, he needed to diversify.”

“So he went into synthetic drugs,” Ash said. “Like Red Rush. I bet you he saw a huge opportunity. Synthetic drugs are both legal and popular, despite the fact that they kill people every day.”

Ash’s understanding of Red’s newest venture impressed me, especially considering that he’d undertaken his entire investigation based on a hunch and a single packet of incense. I glanced up at him. The lines radiating at the corner of eyes intensified his face’s expression. His eyes narrowed on the horizon, but his mind wasn’t taking in the landscape. I could almost hear his brain whirring in his skull, processing and converting the information, but into what, I wasn’t sure.

“So let me see if I get this,” he said, blue eyes beaming with intensity. “He had the contacts, the distribution channels and the money to fund the expansion. Most important, synthetic drugs were flowing into the United States legally, mostly from Asia. But that was a problem. At any time, his merchandise could be intercepted and regulated by customs officials or border patrol. So he asked himself: What if they could be produced locally?”

“He was just beginning to think distribution when I escaped.”

I fought the memories streaming in my mind. I’d paid for Red’s frustrations on the flesh. The war on drugs had translated into a war on me. Who knew that global conflicts could inflict localized bodily damage?

“You okay?” Ash said, massaging my stone-stiff shoulders.

“Hanging in there.”

“We’re making lots of progress here.”

If we were making so much progress, then why was I having so much difficulty drawing air into my lungs and keeping the ghastly memories from crushing me?

“So,” Ash said. “The reason why the Justice Department is so interested in Red is because his ‘products’ are killing more people than all of the other mixes put together, but the authorities can’t stop it from getting into the country because he’s mixing it locally.”

“Exactly.”

“And that’s also why Justice is so interested in you,” Ash said. “It’s why Steiner offered you witness protection. The cartel has closed ranks on cocaine and heroin distribution and they can’t put Red away for selling bath salts, incense and potpourri. However, they could put him away for good, if they could prove that he’s manufacturing synthetic drugs right here in the good old U.S. of A.”

“That’s the whole story in a nutshell.”

“That’s part of the story for sure,” Ash said, toying with my hair. “But perhaps it’s not the whole story.”

I forced myself to focus. Ash needed the information. It was important.

“When did Agent Steiner first contact you?” he asked.

“About five years ago,” I said.

“And how did he manage to break through Red’s surveillance?”

“He was very clever about it,” I said. “When I turned twenty-one, I begged Red to allow me to go to college. It took me months to convince him.” I shuddered when I remembered the kind of things I had to do in order to persuade him. “Eventually, he let me enroll in an online program, even though he policed everything I did and restricted my internet access. I’m not sure how Steiner found out about it, but he contacted me online posing as a teacher’s assistant and provided me with an encryption that allowed me to fool Red’s watchdogs.”

“Your tax dollars at work,” Ash said. “How did Steiner manage to nab you?”

“It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure,” I said. “And it took a long time. Even before I agreed to cooperate with his investigation, I told him I had three conditions.”

His eyebrows came up. “You negotiated with the Justice Department?”

“First, I told them they had to reunite me with my brother,” I said. “Second, they had to provide us with multiple sets of identity documents.”

“So that’s how you got the stash I found in your go bag.” Ash nodded. “What was your third condition?”

“I told Steiner that I wanted my marriage to Red invalidated, annulled, ended. He thought I was being finicky. I thought I was being principled.”

“Principled gets my vote.” Ash planted a kiss on my temple. “Was Steiner able to find Adam?”

“It took months, but eventually, I got a clip from Adam, via Steiner. He’d been sneaked out of the compound in Colombia and brought safely to the United States.”

I’d been elated with the news. I’d gone about with a smile on my face for three days straight, even after Red beat me raw for what he called an “attitude leer.” I kept smiling inside despite the fact that I couldn’t walk for a while.

“I wonder how Steiner managed that rescue.” Ash frowned. “It’s shit-hot stuff. Special ops had to be involved. I’ll have to put my ear to the wind. What happened next?”

“It took another few months to plan my escape,” I said. “Meanwhile, they wanted stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Information about what Red was doing and where, bank accounts, passwords, names of associates, things of that nature. They were building their case. I became adept at getting what they wanted. Red’s devices were well protected from hackers and digital spies, but, given the right circumstances, they weren’t always protected from me.”

Ash’s eyebrows rose on his forehead. “You got all of that for them?”

“I did.” I’d also gained a lot of confidence, not to mention some very useful skills.

Ash whistled. “Not too shabby. When did you finally get away?”

“About four years ago.”

“How?”

“There was a headliner boxing match at the Tropicana in Las Vegas,” I said, remembering those last fateful days. “I knew Red would force me to go with him, because he liked to show me off to his buddies and he knew how much I hated watching grown men pound each other to oblivion. I passed on the information to Steiner. He neutralized my bodyguards and spirited me away from the women’s lounge. And so, on a hot summer night, I walked out of Red’s life for good, ten years, four months and seventeen days after the night he killed my father.”

“Jesus, Lia.” Ash shook his head. “You’re made of steel. If I were wearing a hat, I’d take it off.”

Relief flooded through me. Someone believed me—Ash believed me—and telling the story gave me a new sense of freedom. Out on the lake, a pair of otters played in the water, chattering, fishing and splashing as if they had no cares in the world. Neil yawned and pressed his head against my hand, encouraging me to keep petting him. Animals were such creatures of the present.

“Let me guess what happened next,” Ash said. “Lots of hurry up and wait, holdups and bureaucratic shit clogging the pipeline.”

“Sounds like you know the Witness Protection Program.”

“I’ve worked for the government long enough,” Ash said. “I know how the shit goes down. Or not.”

“Adam and I were reunited.” I smiled thinking about the few wonderful months we’d spent together. “He was fine. He hadn’t suffered Red’s wrath like I had. They moved us a lot. We did secret depositions, met with lawyers and agents, moved some more. Twice, we had to go before a judge and one time I went before a grand jury. Right after that, that’s when it happened.”

“What happened?”

“Red found us.” My chest ached. “And he killed Adam.”

“Jesus.” Ash wrapped his arms around me like a shield.

“We were playing cards in the kitchen of our safe house.” My voice came out as a forced squeak. “We were in a suburban neighborhood in Dayton, Ohio. Adam and I were paired up against two of the agents assigned to us. Other agents were on duty at the house. Word was the indictment against Red was about to come down and security was tight.”

I paused. My mouth was woolly. My eyes stung with tears. Neil lifted his head from my lap and licked my hand.
Steady. Breathe. Press on.

“I looked up from my game,” I said. “Adam—God, Ash, he’d been such a beautiful child. He’d grown up to be a strapping young man, so full of life, a sunny soul for sure.”

Ash held me close. “I bet you he was a lot like you.”

“No, not like me.” I blinked away the tears. “Not broken or bitter or neurotic, but optimistic, hopeful, a good person, so much better than I could ever be.”

How could he be gone? Why him? Why was I alive when he was dead?

“You can cry if you need to, baby,” Ash said.

I shook my head.
Keep it together. Tell the story. Get it done.
I took a deep breath.

“That day,” I said, despite the pain squeezing my heart, “Adam had just picked a card from the pile when I noticed something small and green flickering on the side of his head. I thought it was a bug or something. I leaned across the table to wipe it off, but the window burst. Adam’s face froze right before his head exploded.”

I closed my eyes. My throat burned with the sting of tears flowing down my face. Hadn’t I cried enough? My mind was stuck on that awful day. My own screams echoed in my ears. Bullets plinked. Glass clinked. The air in the room had grown too warm, tainted with the sweet-and-sour scent of the blood that splattered the walls and drenched the carpets.

Ash shook me softly. “Lia?”

“Adam was gone,” I said flatly. “The agents were gone. I called for help but nobody came. Everyone in the house was dead. Everyone but me.”

“Snipers?” Ash said.

I nodded.

“Ah.”

He now understood why I’d thought he was a hired sniper that day when he shot to scare away the mountain lion.

“I moved fast,” I said, blood pounding in my ears with the same sense of urgency that had seized me back then. “Once I realized everyone around me was dead, I knew that all of my efforts had been for nothing. I’d gotten to know those agents. They were nice people. They had families. And Adam...” I fought the tears. “He was gone for good.”

Ash squeezed my hand.

“I don’t know exactly how I got out,” I said. “A survival switch flipped somewhere inside of me. I remember grabbing the go bag I’d packed with the documents and darting out of the back door. I remember thinking I had seconds to live. I hid in someone’s garage for a few days. Red and Steiner were both looking for me.”

“What did you do next?”

“I didn’t sleep or eat for those first few days.” My belly churned with the memory. “There was a car in the garage, and a man who left in the morning and came back every night. He had no clue I was there. One morning I stole into his backseat and rode along when he went to work. I sneaked out of the parking garage and made my way out of the city. After that, I wandered the country for a few months.”

“Where did you go?”

“Most of the time, I lived on the streets. On good days, I stayed at homeless shelters.”

“That must have been really tough for you,” Ash said.

I shrugged. “It was better than being with Red.”

“Is that where you found out about the Underground Railroad?” Ash asked.

I opened my mouth and closed it several times before I was able to speak. “How on earth could you know about that?”

“I talked to Reverend Martin,” Ash said. “He never admitted that you came to Copperhill via the Underground, but he did admit to being part of a network of people who strive to provide safe passage to victims on the run.”

“Let’s clear up something.” I steeled my voice. “I’m not a victim anymore.”

Ash’s eyes met mine. “Got it.”

“A counselor at a homeless shelter in Chicago hooked me up with the Underground,” I said. “For a year, I traveled from one safe haven to another, never staying more than a few days at a time. Copperhill was supposed to be another stop along the way. The reverend placed me with Wynona. She suggested I should stay. She didn’t know my story, and I told her I couldn’t stay with her because I didn’t want to put her in harm’s way. But you know your grandma. She was as stubborn as you are.”

“Oh yeah.” He smiled wistfully. “Nona was a force of nature.”

“She found me the job and the cottage and insisted I stay, at least for a while. She was so good to me. She gave me the strength I needed when I was tired and discouraged, and very close to giving up. I was so lucky to meet her. Without her, I wouldn’t be around anymore.”