13. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
“ Y ou were looking for me?”
Steve glanced at Jose who had found him sending texts in the library. He pocketed his phone and asked, “Do you have cameras on the entire estate?”
“We have some blind spots but yes.”
“Anything near Lola’s greenhouses?”
“The hoop houses or the actual Hartley greenhouses?”
“There’s a difference?”
Jose chortled. “Well, don’t let Lola hear you ask that. Yes, there is. The hoop houses are the plastic covered tunnels. The Hartleys are the glass and brick greenhouses on the right side of the property, right near Lola’s wing. You know, the room with the balcony and all the hanging plants?”
“Jesus, this family and their estate and the wings and the balconies and the gardens and the patios!” Steve couldn’t make sense of it all. “I need a map.”
“I can get you one,” Jose offered seriously. “They keep laminated ones in the groundskeeper’s office and over in the farming operation headquarters.”
Steve’s mouth settled into a grim line. “I might take you up on that.”
“So—the hoop houses or the greenhouses?”
“The hoops,” Steve clarified. “I’m pretty sure the two idiots who tried to kill me and Beto last night were out there before they came for us.”
“No.” Jose shook his head. “I would have seen that on the security tapes. I went back and pulled footage. I didn’t see anything.”
“Pull it again. Maybe you missed something.”
“Maybe,” Jose agreed uncertainly. “I’ll look. You want to come?”
Steve shook his head. “I’ve got something else to handle.”
“All right. Text me if you need anything else.”
“Oh! Yeah. There’s something else. What can you find out about the counselor at Camila’s school?”
“Counselor? Which one?”
“Isabela Campos.”
Jose’s eyes twitched, narrowing slightly. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. You know here?”
“Not really,” Jose replied. “I see her when I drop Camila off at school. She seems like a nice lady.”
“If you can find out more about her, I’d like to know.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Finished with Jose, Steve wandered through the house and found himself in the kitchen. Lola had Jasper in a baby carrier snuggled up against her chest. She stood near Beto, pestering him about something he was cooking on the stove. “No, I think Jovita uses more cinnamon.”
“If you want Jovita’s version, you’ll have to wait for her to come back to work tomorrow.” Beto flicked his fingers at his sister. “Get back. You're holding our nephew for God’s sake!”
“Oh my God. You know he’s not made of paper, right? He’d need to be closer than two feet to an open flame to catch fire.”
“And to think Sky and Rafa trust you over me with Jasper!” Beto acted put out.
Lola rolled her eyes and made an annoyed sound. “Just finish my hot chocolate so I can take the baby upstairs and put him to bed. I have a long day of work ahead of me and need to get a few hours of sleep before he wakes up.”
“Holy shit!” Beto stepped back from the pot boiling away on the stove and waved his whisk at his sister. “You sound like one of those angry housewives on TikTok .”
“If I was married to you, I’d probably be the most popular angry housewife influencer in the world,” Lola shot back. “Me stuck at home with our kids while you run off on your rust-bucket boat for months on end.”
“If I was married to you, I’d shipwreck myself on an island.” The hot chocolate bubbling in the pot started to foam over, and Beto quickly shut off the burner.
“If you burned the chocolate and made the milk curdle, you’ll have to start over,” Lola warned.
Beto exhaled roughly and glanced at the ceiling as if silently praying for patience. “Yes, dear.”
As if on cue, Jasper laughed in his sleep. All tension between the siblings was forgotten as they smiled and laughed at their nephew. The sight of such familial love made Steve feel suddenly protective. He’d do anything to keep them all safe.
“Hey!” Lola noticed him standing just inside the doorway. “Are you hungry? We have leftovers from earlier.”
“And burned hot chocolate,” Beto piped up as he sloshed his concoction into mugs.
“Hard pass on the hot chocolate.” Steve pointed at the giant wall of built-in restaurant style refrigerators. “Leftovers in there?”
“Middle shelves.” Beto pointed to the correct spot before handing a mug of hot chocolate to his sister.
Steve got what he wanted from the refrigerator and noticed the siblings exchanging strange looks. Figuring he knew what they wanted to ask, he said, “Yeah, Diego killed my grandparents.”
“I’m so sorry, Steve,” Lola hurriedly apologized. “He is such a monstrous shithead. Just the absolute worst human being that has ever lived.”
“We should have killed him when we had a chance,” Beto grumbled.
Steve glanced up in shock. “I didn’t realize you ever had the chance.”
“We did.”
“We?”
“Yeah,” Beto said, purposely turning his back to carry the dirty pot and whisk to the sink. His movements made it clear he wasn’t going to say anything that might implicate anyone.
“He’s hurt so many families.” Lola rocked slowly side to side with Jasper. “I can’t even believe that anyone thought it would be a good idea to transport him across the border. What kind of idiots came up with that?”
Steve realized she was looking at him for that answer. “Wasn’t me. That decision was made by someone with federal jurisdiction. Mine ends at the borders of the State of Texas, and I promise you we’re not in the business of moving dangerous lunatic killers without the necessary backup and planning.”
“Maybe Diego has friends in your government,” Lola suggested.
“Anything’s possible,” Steve replied darkly. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone in law enforcement was on a cartel payroll.”
“Part of me wants to believe that Diego is long gone.” Lola tested the hot chocolate in her mug with a tiny sip. She made a surprised face of approval. “I want to believe he got broken out of that prisoner transport van and ran away to some country without extradition treaties for Mexico or the US.”
“And the other part of you?” Beto asked as he ducked down to grab a bottle of beer from the beverage cooler under the counter.
“The other part of me remembers what he promised at his sentencing,” Lola said somberly.
“What did he promise?” Steve asked reluctantly.
“That he wasn’t finished with Dina,” Beto answered for his sister. “That he would get his hands around her neck one more time, and he’d finish the job.”
The hair on the back of Steve’s neck stood on edge. A diabolical assassin like Diego motivated by vengeance? He would be near unstoppable.
But I’ve still got to try.
“Listen, uh, do either of you know the staff at Camila’s school?” Steve decided not to bother with the microwave. He was too tired and hungry to wait. Instead, he piled what he wanted on a plate as he pumped the siblings for information.
“Not really.”
“No.” Lola frowned at him. “Why?”
“Camila said that her school counselor is the one who put her in contact with Diego’s mother and that she told Camila where to find a burner phone in your greenhouse. Hoop house,” Steve quickly corrected, proud of himself for remembering.
“She what ?” Lola asked in horror. “A counselor? At her school? What’s that bitch’s name?”
“Hey! Not in front of the baby!” Beto gestured toward Jasper.
Lola huffed. “He’s asleep.”
“So? If Sky and Rafa come back and his first word is a curse word, they’ll lose it on us and blame me.”
“Her name is Campos,” Steve cut in before they got derailed by arguing. “Isabela Campos.”
“Chavela Campos?” Beto interjected with surprise.
“I’m not sure?” Steve knew Chavela was a nickname for Isabela, but Camila hadn’t used it when describing her counselor.
“Oh, of course!” Lola accusingly glared at her brother. “One of the ten thousand women you’ve fu—.” She stopped herself from using the word she intended and glanced down at her nephew. “That you’ve fornicated with and dumped, leaving a trail of broken hearts.”
“Come on! It’s not like that!”
“It’s exactly like that,” Lola assured Steve, ignoring her brother. “So, yeah, if this is Chavela Campos that Beto dated? Yeah, she would definitely be motivated to hurt our family to get back at him.”
Beto groaned and covered his face with both hands. He obviously felt shame and guilt. “We were teenagers! It wasn’t that serious.”
“It was serious to her,” Lola said. “Does Dina know?”
“I haven’t told her yet.”
“I bet Camila has,” Beto said. “I helped her take dinner upstairs for them. I’m pretty sure they’re having some much-needed mother-daughter time.”
“Well, I haven’t heard fireworks yet so maybe not.” Lola nervously glanced at the ceiling as if expecting to hear screaming at any moment.
“Or maybe she’s letting the rage simmer and marinate overnight,” Beto warned.
God help that school counselor if that was true.