Chills & Thrills: Three Novel Box Set (42 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

ISABELLA WAITED FOR HER FATHER'S MEETING TO ADJOURN
. People were arriving for the party, but fear kept her away from the front entrance and the garden, where the festivities were under way.

Pedro walked up behind her as she put on her scarlet lipstick. “It's time to greet your guests.”

“I don't want to.”

“I know, but you will have a good time. It's possible for this one evening, you can actually forget your suffering.”

“Oh, really? How is that possible while I'm sitting in this thing?”

“Try. Your father went to a lot of trouble. I'll stay by your side. You'll be fine.”

“All right,” she replied, rolling her eyes and preparing to swallow her pride, since she was sure that murmurings about her accident would reach her ears shortly, and pitying looks would follow. Pedro rolled her out through the veranda doors and down the ramp built for her while they were all still in Italy, awaiting her dismissal from the hospital. He'd had ramps and elevators put in both houses.

Much to Bella's surprise, friends she hadn't seen in years were there. They smiled at her and were pleasant. It almost felt good to be around people again, but she was not about to let Pedro know that.

Her father and godfather approached them. “Ah, you look gorgeous,” Antonio said, bending down to kiss her cheek. “The girls were looking for you.”

“Where are they?” Bella had been looking forward to seeing Rosa. Felicia didn't matter, one way or the other. Her behavior was amusing, but her manner soon became wearying.

“Well, it would appear that my youngest is being accosted by suitors at this point,” Antonio remarked. They all glanced over to the pool, where Felicia was surrounded by a group of eager young men. Felicia noticed them looking in her direction and waved.

“And Rosa, where is she?”

Antonio frowned. “I see that Rosa is speaking to our newest business partner. Here, why don't I take you over, and introduce you?” Before anyone could protest, Antonio was pushing Bella through the group in a rather hurried fashion.

“Bella,” Rosa exclaimed. “It's so good to see you up and about.”

Bella smiled sheepishly, and then looked up at the handsome young man who'd been speaking to Rosa.

“I see you've met Alejandro,” Antonio said.

“Yes, Papa. He was telling me that he's recently started working for you, running one of your businesses in the States.” Rosa smiled at her father knowingly. She was quite observant, and had noticed everything she could during her days as a mute. She knew that her father's business was not exactly legal, but it didn't bother her as she knew it would her naive friend, Bella.

Alex shook Bella's hand. “Hello,” she said, “I'm Isabella Rodriguez.”

“It's very nice to meet you, Isabella, and thank you for allowing me to attend your party.”

“I'm pleased you could come,” she replied.

Instead of simply shaking her hand, Alex took it and kissed it. Antonio mused that the chemistry between them could hardly go unnoticed by anyone in close proximity.

“Come on, Papa, let's get a glass of wine,” Rosa said.

Reluctantly, Antonio agreed.

“It is your birthday? I'm afraid I don't have a present for you.”

“No. It's not my birthday.” Bella was not sure how she should answer his question. She decided to be honest. She told him about the accident, her horses, how she missed riding, and how her father had hoped that this party would lighten her spirits.

“Is it working?” He grinned.

“You know what? Amazingly, it is.”

“Good. Looks like everyone is beginning to sit down for dinner. Would you like to sit by me?”

“I'd love to, but my father has arranged the seating.” She smiled at him.

“Understood. Save me a dance when the music starts?”

Her smile suddenly turned into a frown, since she was reminded again of her handicap. “Did my father send you to talk to me, to try to make me feel better?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why 
are
 you talking to me?” She didn't believe him. It made sense now. Why else would a handsome young man want any part of her?

“I like you. I find you interesting, sweet, and to be honest, very beautiful.”

“I know my father well enough to know that he would do something like this. He wants me to be happy. To be normal. I'll never be normal again. I certainly don't need your pity or charity, Señor Peña.”

“I don't pity you, and your father isn't paying me. This is the first time I've ever met your father, and to be honest, I don't like your accusations. My mother did not bring me up to be a shallow man.”

“But I'm in a wheelchair. My legs may never be useful to me again.”

“Do you think that changes a person inside? Do you think that would keep me from wanting to get to know you?”

“I don't know. I think I've changed a lot since the accident.” She still didn't know if she believed him, but she wanted to.

“Maybe, but perhaps you've changed less than you think. I would also place bets that you'll not only walk again, but I'll bet money that you'll also ride again. Your face lit up when you were talking about your horses.”

Bella looked down at her hands, which she twisted around a strand of pearls dangling from her neck. People had been telling her the same thing ever since her accident. But not until now, when a man she'd only known for barely an hour had said these same words, did she actually believe they might be true. She lifted her head up and smiled. “You're right.” Even if he were only acting for her sake, for the moment it was the best she'd felt since before the accident, and for now she would take this man at his word and hope he wasn't telling her lies.

“I know I am. Now, are you going to save me that dance when dinner is over?”

“In case you hadn't noticed, I can't dance these days.”

“Sure you can. I'll show you how.”

“Oh, really. All right, if you insist.”

“I do insist.”

They both went to their separate tables. Bella was seated between Pedro and her father, Alex between Antonio and Emilio.

Throughout dinner, Isabella noticed Alex's eyes darting in her direction. She tried not to look, knowing that if she did, it would be inappropriate. But a couple of times she slipped, and their eyes locked. For the first time all evening, she wondered if the black chiffon dress she wore was cut too low. She lifted the sleeves back onto her shoulders. Throughout her years in France, she hadn't concentrated much on her looks. Boys hadn't been of much interest to her. The horses came first, and they didn't care whether she wore makeup or curled her hair. The only times she had ever dressed up and worn makeup were when her family visited or during important school functions.

She slid a wispy piece of her hair that had fallen over her eyes back into her chignon, all the while trying to concentrate on eating the lobster dinner.

Bella noticed Pedro watching her, shooting pained grimaces at Alejandro. He was behaving stupidly being an overly protective uncle.

Dinner finally ended with coffee to complement the strawberry cake the cook had made for her. Tears came to her eyes as she watched her father slice the cake. The party she'd dreaded so much had been worth it.

The band finished setting up, the music began to play, and within minutes, Alex stood before her. “May I have this dance? That is, if your father wouldn't mind?”

Javier smiled and nodded his head at both of them. The band was playing 
Guantanamera
. The center of the garden filled up with guests. Alex pushed Bella's chair into the center, where he spun the chair around in time with the music. She laughed.

Lies or not, Alejandro made her laugh and he was fun. Bella wished she could stay in that moment forever, where she could forget that her legs did not work and that she was a woman like any other.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

PEDRO WATCHED BELLA ALL NIGHT WITH ALEX, AS FELICIA
 tried everything she could to distract him, but all her wiles were useless. Pedro hated the fact that those two never left each other from the moment Antonio introduced them. He now stood in the alcove off the balcony, getting drunk, continuing to watch them down below.

Emilio interrupted Pedro's thoughts. "Where have you been? I've been looking for you all night."

"Up here,” Pedro replied.

"I can see that. But why?"

"I'm not feeling all that festive."

"I don't understand. It's a wonderful party. Business went well. What is there for you to be upset about? Bella is having a terrific time. She's quite a young woman."

It was as if Emilio enjoyed rubbing salt into Pedro's wound. Pedro glared at him.

"Ah, I see, that's it. You don't like the fact that she's all grown up. It's all right. They all grow up at one time or another. You should be thankful your 
niece
 has grown up the way she has. She's someone you can be proud of. And, my youngest niece has grown up quite nicely as well, but I've seen that you've noticed that yourself. I would be careful with Felicia, though. Antonio is quite protective of those girls.”

Pedro turned from the balcony's wall, spilling his drink in the process. "What I don't like," he slurred, "is that hoodlum hanging all over my Bella. What is between Felicia and me is none of your concern."

Emilio laughed. “No, it's not my concern. I'm only giving you fair warning. Tell you what, I'll let you stand guard here over 
your
 Bella. When you sober up, come see me. I think you and I can be of great benefit to one another.”

*****

AFTER BEING FORBIDDEN TO SEE BELLA AND BANISHED FROM
 the entire Rodriguez family by Javier, Miguel buried himself in his work for the church. He was anguished about not being able to stay in touch with his sister. He'd written to her, but each one of his letters were returned, unopened. He was certain that had been the doing of Javier or Pedro. Bella had written to him twice a week, telling him about her progress and pleading with him to write her. Her letters then started coming once a week, and finally stopped. If God had allowed him to hate, he would have hated Javier for tearing him away from the one person who meant something to him.

A few months after the letters stopped coming, right before the holidays, Miguel was transferred to Guatemala, where a small church had been conducting services without a priest. Apparently, the former parish priest disappeared shortly after being found in bed with a fifteen-year-old parishioner. The boy claimed their affair had been going on for well over a year and that the priest was paying him money in exchange for the boy's sexual favors. Rumor had it that the priest, who'd purportedly fled the country, was more than likely six feet under, after some cruel and unusual punishment from some irate parishioners. When he'd first heard about this scandal and its aftermath, Miguel shuddered in abhorrence. He knew that he would have to work very hard gaining the trust of his new flock.

One afternoon while practicing his sermon for that evening's mass, one of his parishioners, a man in his late thirties named Julio, came to see him. He was tall and muscular, weathered from the sun, but his eyes bright with youth as if he knew he had a purpose.

“How can I help you, Julio?” Miguel asked him.

“Well, Father, I'm not sure if you're aware of who I am.” Julio seated himself in the chair across from Miguel's desk.

“I don't know exactly what you mean.”

“I am important, but to these people, you are far more important. I think that together, we can help each other.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“How do you feel about all the drugs being smuggled through our country?” Julio asked.

Miguel fingered the cross around his neck, a gift from Bella after he graduated from the seminary. “I'm aware that it is a problem and I do not like it.”

“Problem? It is more than a problem. Our people are losing jobs, even losing their lives, because a few wealthy hoodlums are using Guatemala as a landing strip for their drug trade, which extends into Miami and South Carolina.”

“I see.”

“Whatever I say to you is confidential?”

“Of course. I am bound by the Church and by God to tell no one of our conversation — if that is what you wish.”

“That's exactly what I wish.”

“All right, you have my word.”

“I am working with the Drug Enforcement Agency with the United States government. We need your help.”

“What? But how?” Miguel's fingers tightened around the cross.

“We know of the relationship you've had with the Rodriguez and Espinoza families.”

“Yes, but that relationship no longer exists.”

“We also know that. Are you aware that Antonio Espinoza and Javier Rodriguez are using their affiliation with the PRI party and other legitimate fronts to deal in huge amounts of drugs?”

“I had an idea that might be true, yes.”

“At first, we were talking about marijuana, but now we're looking at large sums of cocaine. It is men like these who live in great luxury, while bringing Central and South America down to new depths of poverty and degradation. They must be stopped.”

“How can I help?”

“Speak out.”

“I'm only a priest in a tiny church in the jungles here. I don't see what I can do.”

“You know both families. I believe we can derive a lot of information from you. Not only that, but people trust you. I've seen what you've done with the people here in such a short time, after what happened with the priest before you. These people were disillusioned. They thought God had failed them, turned against them. But in a matter of weeks, you've changed that. We've been looking for someone like you — someone respectful, courageous, intelligent, and likable. The DEA will fund your lectures, which will begin with the smaller towns and cities of Central and South America, and then eventually reach the larger cities. The last thing we want is to see Javier Rodriguez in office again. Espinoza and Rodriguez are smart. They know exactly how to steal, hide, and cheat.”

Miguel nodded his head.

“Can your conscience allow you to let good, God-fearing people go on dying due to their corruption?”

Miguel also had the feeling that more than his conscience would get the better of him. The fact that his life would be on the line was something to consider. Although the DEA and those who worked for them were considered righteous, Miguel had heard stories about the Guatemalan militia and their infamous torture sessions — stories that frightened him. Taking his time before he made his decision, he rose and walked to the window, and stood looking out at the huts and shacks of the community he served.

Turning to Julio, he said, “I'll do it.”

“Good. I knew we could count on you. The campaign will begin with tomorrow's mass.”

“Excuse me?”

“Beginning tomorrow, you will be waging a war with two of the largest crime families in our part of the world. What better way than to begin in your own backyard? I expect that the Bible has something to say about the evils of corruption, Father.”

“Yes, the Bible has plenty to say on that topic, but I need to follow the missal.”

“I am sure the missal for tomorrow's mass will contain something that you can translate into your homily that will discuss corruption.”

Miguel slowly nodded. “I will study and see what I can do.”

“Good. I suggest you study it carefully. I've noticed that many in this country seem to listen when God speaks.”

“Yes,” Miguel replied.

“Good day, Father. I'll see you at Mass. Afterwards I'll give you a proposed schedule we've worked out for you. Then, I must leave for some time. I have other plans to set into motion. I will be in touch, as well as one of my partners.”

Miguel watched the man leave his church, pondering his proposition and the fact that he had accepted it. How could he attempt to tear down a family who'd given him so much opportunity? Then he remembered Javier's words ordering him to leave Bella alone and get out of their lives, the returned letters, and Bella's distraught words asking why he hadn't written. He remembered his mother and the nagging thought that her death didn't appear to upset his stepfather the way he thought it might have, and it nagged at him that there was a possibility that Javier may have given orders for his mother to be killed. Miguel was resolved. He knew that a higher purpose dictated what he had to do. He'd have to expose Bella's father as the man he truly was. He didn't know if he could do that to her, but he also knew that his life now belonged to God — and God wanted him to seek justice for a weary nation.