The Cartel (45 page)

“Yes. However, I have taken care of Emilio.”

Antonio didn’t respond. He had no idea what she meant. He watched as she took a tape recorder out of the bag she carried. “You need to hear this.” First she played Rosa’s confession to the therapist. Together, they listened in silence. Then they both wept.

“Oh, God, no, no, no,” Antonio bellowed. “How could I never even suspect he was
this
monster? How could I not protect my child or you? Oh, dear God.” Antonio’s body trembled and with wracking sobs he fell back in the chair. After a moment he looked at Lydia again. “I don’t know why you ask me to spare him, but I will break that evil bastard in two. I will destroy him.” He stood and paced the floor.

“No, I told you that you won’t need to.” He stopped and stared at her, crazed by what he’d already heard. He watched as Lydia put another tape in. It was one that Julio had given to her after Emilio and Hector’s execution. Julio’s words and those on the tape had been difficult to hear, but she knew they were necessary.

“I knew you’d need some proof,” Julio had told Lydia. He’d reached out, touching her shoulder. “I’m the wrong man for you. We both know that. You go home. You go back to your family.”

“What about your investigation?” Lydia had asked him, afraid of what would happen to Antonio.

“I have to tell you something, Lydia. I’ve been a DEA agent for the government in the States up until now. But since the work has become so dangerous lately, I’ve also been working for the Italian Mafia. They paid me all the money I made from stealing Emilio’s last drug shipment, in order to make sure I had Emilio killed. They were afraid his rogue operation would interfere with their own drug trade. It worked well for me. I was able to seek revenge for Father Miguel who I know we both loved, and I killed the man who stole your life from you. My work is complete here in Colombia and in Mexico. Now I’ve made enough to retire on. But I must change my name and my identity, because the DEA will be very angry that I had Emilio killed, instead of bringing him in as a witness against Antonio and Javier, and the Italian mafia will look for me, too. I know too much about too many governments and too many criminals. They’re all the same though, aren’t they?” He’d laughed and then turned somber again. “I’ll have to live my life on the run from now on, even have plastic surgery to alter my features enough to escape from all of them and even then I will have to always be looking behind me. As much as I love you, and God, you know that I do.” He stroked her face. “I know that kind of life wouldn’t be any good for you. You’ve lived it long enough. Go home. Don’t worry about me or the DEA. Your husband is a mastermind. It wouldn’t matter how many years they pursued him, he’ll always find some way out.”

“Emilio is dead, isn’t he?” Antonio asked her after the tape played out. “They didn’t spare him.”

“He’s dead.”

Antonio felt nothing for his brother. Nothing at all. He embraced Lydia. “I am so sorry you suffered so.”

“I want to see my daughters.”

“Of course. I do think they’ll need to be prepared.”

“I understand. When?”

“Tomorrow. Come here at noon.”

“All right. I’ll be staying at Las Brillas.”

“May I keep the tape?”

“Yes.”

Antonio saw Lydia out the door, and had a car brought around for her. No one noticed her leaving. He was still in shock over the story she’d told and the tapes he’d heard. His emotions were a mixed brew. But one thing he knew for sure as he fingered the tape, his son would soon be free of any questions that others had regarding his innocence.

*****

Alex looked at Antonio, seated across from him in the office. Everything in the room was dark, from mahogany desks and wall panels, to the plush burgundy sofa next to the bookshelves. Alex watched his mentor, who looked drawn and older than he had only a few days before when he’d come to see him in prison.

“Are you feeling all right?” Alex asked him.

“Yes, of course. I’ve received some surprising news that’s all,” Antonio replied.

“What kind of news?”

“We’ll talk about it later. Right now we have guests.”

Antonio stood up as Javier, Bella, and Pedro were ushered into the room. Pedro glanced anxiously at all of them, his hands in his slack’s pockets. Bella looked at Alex, but he couldn’t get a sense of what she was feeling. Her face showed nothing and when his eyes caught hers and tried to hold them in a gaze she looked away. Alex wondered if she doubted his innocence.

“Sit down, please,” Antonio said.

“I don’t understand why we’re here,” Javier replied. “I definitely don’t understand why you got him out of prison.” He pointed at Alex. “He murdered my stepson and he’s made us a family divided. I can’t see how we can go on as partners or think of each other as family any longer after this fiasco. I’m not willing to throw my political career away because of his insane criminal act.”

“Please, sit down,” Antonio ordered, his voice stern.

Bella in her chair looked away from the other four seated around the desk.

“This young man you are so ready to condemn was indeed set up.”

“I can’t believe that. The proof against him is too strong,” Javier said. “My daughter saw him standing over Miguel with her own eyes, his bloodied knife in his hands.”

“I think you’ll change your mind after you hear this.” Antonio pulled a tape recorder out of a desk drawer and placed it on top of the desk. He turned it on.

“Who killed Father Miguel?” a man’s voice asked. “Who set up Alejandro Peña?”

A gasp and moan rang out over the recorder and then they heard Emilio’s voice answering. “It was me, and Pedro Torres.”

“Who is Pedro Torres?”

“He’s a man who works for us. For Antonio and Javier.”

Antonio turned the tape off.

“That’s a lie,” Pedro screamed. “He’s lying. Where is that bastard? Where is Emilio?” He stood and paced the floor, perspiration beading around his hairline.

“Where Emilio is, is none of your concern. Sit down,” Antonio ordered.

Antonio turned the tape back on and played out the section in regard to why Pedro wanted Alejandro out of the way and what Emilio’s motives were.

“Is that true, Pedro?” Bella asked.

“Of course not,” Pedro replied.

It was Javier who spoke next, his voice gravely and low. “I accepted you as my son. I loved you, trusted you. Now I’m asking you to leave.”

“He was ruining you anyway,” Pedro shouted. “Miguel Diaz was defaming you. Emilio and I did you a favor.” Pedro placed his hands in his face and when he looked back up he had turned red. “Listen to me, this boy…” He pointed at Alex. “He is going to ruin this family. I was doing it for the family and for you, Bella.” He knelt down next to her.

She slapped him hard across the face. “For me?”

Pedro brought his hand up to his face. “For you. He is a lowly street thug. He is not worthy of your presence, and he will never fit into this family.”

Bella shook her head. Alex watched her face twist into something he had never seen her express.

“Go, Pedro. Leave this family and stay away,” Javier replied. Pedro got up from the chair and silently started to leave the room.

“You’re going to let him go?” Bella screamed. “After what he did?”

“Calm down. He’ll rot in his own hell, trust me.”

“Trust you? He murdered Miguel, and Alex was blamed for it.”

“Isabella, I know Pedro. He will suffer more without this family than he would in a prison cell.”

Pedro looked back pleadingly at Javier who gave him nothing back. He turned again and headed toward the door. “I’ll go,” he muttered.

“You will go nowhere, you bastard,” Bella said.

Pedro turned back around as Bella pointed a small pistol, etched with mother of pearl on the handle, squarely at his chest.

“Bella, no!” Alex yelled. As he reached out to grab the gun from her, she pulled the trigger, the echo of the bullet bounced off the wall, and the men in the room watched in awe as Pedro Torres, his face twisted into a mixture of disbelief and horror collapsed to the floor.

****

Bella’s shot didn’t miss. She’d hit Pedro directly in the heart and he died within minutes. Her skills as a crack shot had come from her days of archery in school, and she had fully intended to kill Pedro after what he’d done to her brother and the man she loved.

Alex rushed to her side as Antonio made a phone call. Javier and Antonio ushered Alex and Bella out of the office and into the living room. It didn’t take long before Bella understood that the phone call her Godfather made was to a couple of men who arrived quickly and with stealth, removed Pedro’s body from the house.

She’d had her suspicions about Pedro and his possible involvement since Mexico City a few days before, and she’d thought about it for the past three days. When Antonio had shown up at the hotel to take her for a walk after Pedro pleaded for her hand in marriage, she confided in her Godfather.

“Don’t you think it odd, Godfather?” She’d asked.

“Indeed. Not only is it odd, it’s abhorrent behavior. He should not be looking at you with the eyes of a man in that way. He’s known you since you were a baby. He’s eighteen years older than you. Your father will have to speak to him on this issue.”

“Yes,
Patrón.
I will. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think Alex killed my brother?”

“No. I do not. I know this young man and he is not a killer.” He rolled her chair inside a corner café where he ordered them each
panuelos
and Mexican cocoa. “Bella, what’s more important is do you think Alex is guilty of this crime?”

She hesitated before shaking her head. “I can’t believe that he could or would do it.”

“I don’t know who did this, but we will find out, my child. However, for now, I fear for you.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “Bella, your father and I have many enemies. Some of the things you have heard about us are true.”

She nodded, knowing that her fears about her father and Antonio were truths. Could she accept this? Did she even have a choice? For now, all she could do was listen.

He’d taken a case from the satchel he carried. It looked to be a jewelry box, but a bit larger. “I know that you have people who watch over you, but this is in case you ever need it. Our families have more enemies than ever, suspicious that your father or I may have asked Alejandro to murder Miguel. I assure you that is not the case. I was always very fond of your brother and am deeply troubled and saddened by his death. I may not always do the right thing according to the law, but Bella, I am a man of God. I am human and have sinned more times than I can say, but my love for God and for your brother was true. I hope you believe that.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes. The thought of Miguel and his passing would be a wound she knew she would never quite recover from. It was like a part of her soul had been ripped from her.

Antonio handed her the box. “This is for you. It is possible that someone might take out their hatred of our families by trying to hurt the innocent.”

She’d opened the box, and found a small hand pistol inside, the handle decorated in mother of pearl. She gasped. “I don’t know if I should accept this.”

He took her free hand. “You must accept it. It’s for your own good, and I know that you know how to use it.” He smiled at her, and she’d recalled the times he had taken her and his girls bird hunting on the occasions when they came to visit her in France. She’d been a natural and proud of what she could do with a gun. Then, of course, there were her archery lessons from school that helped her aim. But having a gun was different than archery or bird hunting. It was the real thing for the real thing—her own protection. She knew better than to deny her Godfather’s gift, and so she’d taken it.

Today that gift had helped her seek vengeance for her brother, and now she wondered, as her Godfather and father went into the kitchen to make drinks to help calm everyone’s nerves, if Antonio hadn’t known all along that this might be how everything would play out.

Alex stood with his back to her, facing the large window that looked out upon the blue mountains. It was obvious to her by the clothes he wore and his unkempt hair and unshaven face that he’d only been released from prison not long ago. He was far leaner than a week earlier, his bruises still covering his face.

“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through,” she said. “It must’ve been horrible.

He nodded, but did not turn around. “The worst part was not knowing if you believed that I was innocent or not.”

“I know, Alex, and I’m so sorry. Can you please forgive me? That day when I came to see you at the prison I was so distraught and confused, and then the guard would not let me stay long enough to hear you out. You remember. And, then, when you brought up the idea that those children might have taken your knife and done that horror to my brother, I was shocked at the thought. But I had to go, and you could not finish telling me your thoughts. I realized that afternoon what you meant to tell me about them taking the knife from your pocket and giving it to someone who would kill my brother and make it look as though you did it. Please accept my apology. I love you, Alex.” The words rushed out of her.