27. Miguel
27
MIGUEL
T he rest of the drive to Rueben’s house was uneventful. Isabel’s quiet mood bothered me, though, and I tried not to worry about whether this was too fast for her, if she was having second thoughts about a future with me. I didn’t doubt that she was interested or that she wanted to stick with me. But how quickly everything was changing…
We’d only collided into each other’s lives a little over a week and a half ago. I had a head start with the file Drago sent me. I knew more about her and looked forward to learning more. Whatever she wanted to know about me, I would tell her.
For the remainder of the ride away from the busy hub of Acapulco, where she’d given up on a vacation to just be with me and literally figure out how to save her life, she asked me more questions. Where I lived, the places I’d seen, even a little bit about my parents I’d lost so cruelly.
In exchange, I asked more about what wasn’t readily available in the file Drago sent me. She talked about her reasoning to go into the arts, and specifically, painting murals. Then she shared more about her plans. While she had an apartment in LA, she wasn’t necessarily committed to staying there forever. Her work required a lot of travel, and she was next scheduled to paint a mural at an art gallery in Tampa. I couldn’t wait to accompany her on her art trips. Already, I could envision it so clearly.
Intrigued about what the file on her could say, she asked to see it. With snorts and laughter, she corrected the details and facts that weren’t correct. This led to a discussion about her tattoos.
“How come you don’t have a file on Louis?” she asked after a while.
“I do. Or I did. He sent me just enough for me to be able to find him and learn that he was supposed to meet a politician in Acapulco. I was waiting there to follow him after the meeting, but he never showed up.”
“Isn’t there anything in his file to give a clue about what he’s been doing? About what he could’ve done with the Cartel?”
“No. His file was on the light side. Bigger hits usually don’t have a lot of details like yours did. The more corrupt, the more they want to hide. And the more they want to hide, the more I need to stalk them and be on the hunt.”
“I still don’t see why anyone would think I could be a valid pawn. Whoever he’s been doing business with, whatever he’s been planning and whoever he’s been working for or against, they can’t possibly see me as something or someone valuable to make him change his behavior. They couldn’t have seen us together or even communicating via emails, text, or calls. Yeah, I called him to demand some answers, but for all I know, that number went nowhere. He didn’t answer.”
I nodded. “I know what you mean.”
“If someone wanted to find someone to use as leverage over him, or as bait, they would’ve had to really dig deep and look for me to know that I existed.”
She raised valid points, and I wondered all the more what Rueben might be able to explain.
We reached his house shortly. Vegetation grew unchecked around the small building, and I recognized that it was intentional for shelter. No one would stumble upon him way out here. His home was really off the beaten path.
I pulled up, counting on the element of surprise to get him talking. Had I called ahead of time, he might have tried to sneak away to avoid talking to me. Like I told Isabel, secrets and news could be a marketable commodity. We were acquaintances, but not friends. We were friendly enough when it benefitted both of us, but no long-lasting loyalties would be obeyed here. That was how it was in the Cartel’s way of life. This mandatory and expected aloofness was partly due to the nature of my independent employment too. In with the Cartel, yet not.
Despite that, I felt comfortable relying on him for answers and being open to talking.
“What, um, what should I do?” Isabel asked as she reached for the door handle. “Do I get out? Or wait in here? Or…” She shrugged. “I was never included in any meetings Louis had. I never wanted to be there, but with this…” Again, she shrugged, showing how nervous she was.
“You stay with me.” I got out and waited for her to join me in front of the car. I wasn’t fond of this particular rental that I’d gotten when I arrived. Now, I knew I had to procure my own version of this make and model. The memory of taking her on the hood would forever be imprinted on my brain.
“Okay,” she replied, nodding as she took my hand that I offered to her.
“I will keep you safe, Isabel, but I will always be able to do that better when we are together. When I can see you.”
“When we’re partners, right?” she asked, smiling. The expression didn’t reach her eyes, though, and now, more than before, I saw how her bravado and courage could wane. She wasn’t used to this hard life. She was an artist, lacking the stamina for constant violence and danger. Soon, she wouldn’t have to face it at all. She could just paint those walls, give me children, and be my family. My wife.
“Yes. Partners. You stick with me and follow my lead, all right?”
She nodded, and even that movement was jerky. “Do I have a part to play? Anything you want me to say or not say?”
I hid a smile at her questions. She was prepping, like this was a play. One day soon, she wouldn’t have to pretend she was someone else to fake happiness or to ensure her safety. She could be secure with me and know she could be herself. She could just be mine.
“No. Let me do all the talking,” I said as we approached the house. “Stay back a little, but always stay with me.” Scoping out the scene, I searched for anyone hiding or watching. Cameras would be hidden among the leaves and higher up to record anyone trespassing, but those were expected. I didn’t detect anyone lurking to jump out at us, though. “Rueben isn’t a friend, but he’s been an ally before.”
“Does he owe you a favor?”
I shrugged. “Not really. Nor do I owe him anything.” If he got squirrely and didn’t want to talk, I’d rely on the good old staple of money. Side revenue was always a good motivator to get tongues loose and people talking.
We reached the door, and I knocked. He had to have noticed our arrival before we climbed onto the step. I was proven right when he opened the door a crack before the last tap of my knuckles on the wood finished sounding so loud.
In the jungle surrounding us, the birds and insects carried on, but here at his front door, the tension was a silent buildup of anxiety and intrigue.
“Miguel,” he greeted coolly, if suspiciously. At a first glance, he seemed high, but the longer I considered his stance and face, I realized he wasn’t too happy to face me on his turf. “Long time, no see.”
I smiled, falling into this ploy of comradery. “Looking good, Rueben. It has been a long time.”
He held his hand out for a shake, and I accepted it, leaning in to pat his back. We were keeping it friendly so far, but I didn’t want to drag out the chitchat. He didn’t seem to have the patience for that either.
“What brings you by?” he asked.
Getting straight to the point. I liked that.
“Louis Flores.” I lifted my face slightly, letting him know I would be blunt and direct about this.
He instantly scowled.
“What do you know about him?’
Rolling his eyes, he crossed his arms. “I know I ain’t got nothing to do with him.”
“I didn’t think you would.” Rueben was a low-level drug runner, sneaky and fond of eavesdropping or sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. “But what have you heard about him?”
“He’s got a hit on his head,” Rueben replied with a huff. “Again.”
“Again?”
He nodded. “He must think he’s got nine lives or something.”
Behind me, Isabel tucked closer to my back, hiding.
“He’s had hits on him on and off for years.”
“From the Cartel?” I asked.
“Mafia. Bratva. Even a fucking MC in the States.”
Damn. Louis really had been busy trying to fuck over anyone and everywhere.
“And the warrants for arrest,” Rueben added. “He’s got no shortage of people looking for him. Why are you?”
“Because I’m supposed to kill him.”
He grunted. “Get in line then, I guess.”
“Who’s behind the latest hit placed on him?”
“Gotta be the boss.”
I raised my brows, annoyed that I’d need to ask for clarification. “Carmello?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
“Why of course ?” I hadn’t heard anything specific lately. Then again, I had been in Brazil for a couple of weeks on a different hit before I got that call from Drago to take out Louis.
“Are you playing dumb?”
I ground my teeth, peeved that he’d have this attitude. “Enlighten me.”
“Flores has been fucking everyone over with botched marriage proposals. Offering his daughter to leaders and bosses and then reneging.”
“His daughter?” I felt Isabel’s fingers tighten on mine.
Isabel wasn’t being offered in marriage. Or if she was, no one was telling her about it. She hadn’t been followed or tailed before I had gone after her.
“He’s been promising his daughter, letting her in on meetings to spy, and then after negotiations for deals change, he backs out and fucks them over.” Rueben shook his head and sighed. “He’s asking for it, pulling bullshit like that.”
That sounded like this femme fatale that Cartel man was talking about. This woman in Louis’s life who had to be ended.
But it’s not her.
It couldn’t be Isabel.
“And the boss isn’t happy about how he did it to one of their up-and-coming leaders. One of the supervisors at the docks.”
“A Carmello boss?” I asked, not wanting to assume anything since Louis wasn’t selective about whom he talked to.
“Yeah. Carmellos are pissed that Louis snuck his daughter into a meeting and killed him.”
“Shit.” I opened my eyes wide.
I’d already been thinking that another woman could be confused with Isabel, but it was still a reach. She hadn’t been involved with Louis for years. Why mix her into any of this?
As the conversation wound down, with Rueben referencing more examples of Louis’s pattern of using his “daughter” to trick the leaders of crime families, I grew uneasy and more confused about how Isabel could be targeted.
When another car pulled up, I kept Isabel closer to me.
I’d shown up uninvited, but by the sounds of these men getting out of not one but two cars, I heard them greeting Rueben. They seemed to be expected.
Now that I got a little more intel about Louis, Isabel and I could leave. I didn’t need to look at her to know she was nervous and anxious with more people crowding in. Until we knew who else was after her and more about why they were, everywhere would feel like dangerous territory.
“Graciella!” One man rushed at us on the porch. I blocked her as the man sneered, running up toward us. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Graciella?
Isabel trembled behind me, clutching the back of my shirt and stepping fully behind me.
“Rueben, why the fuck is she here?” Another ran up close, bringing out his gun as he glared at me, as though he expected me to step out of the way.
“How dare you show your face around here,” a third man shouted at her.
Gunshots were fired, and with my priority to keep her safe, I fought the confusion over when Isabel could have ever shown her face around here before.