Caught Up (Indigo Vibe) (25 page)

“I’m sorry about all of this. This is why I left the lifestyle.”

She backed away. “Did you leave it, Daddy? Are you putting out hits on men? Did you set up your best friend?”

“Of course not, Rosa. Where is this coming from?”

“I saw the hidden directory in Bolívar International’s network that you tried to delete yesterday.”

His eyes cut to Samson, then he returned his attention to Rosa. “We can’t talk about this here. Come home with me. I’ll explain everything.”

“I’ve been asking you to explain everything for weeks. You kept saying you had, then I’d find more. I love you, Daddy.” She hugged him. “I’ll always love you. I need to hear the truth come from your lips.”

“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you. The truth is that I love you more than anything.” His grip around her tightened. “We need to talk. I mean have a serious talk, just you and me.”

Alton cracked the door open. “Sorry to interrupt, but the Sierra team is here and needs to speak with Rosa.”

“Why can’t I talk to them tomorrow or you give them an update?”

“The impatient assholes want to know about your meetings with the Paiges and what you found when you were testing their network. I know you’re tired, but it’s best to get this over with.”

“Go ahead,” Ernesto said. “Samson, bring her by my place when they’re finished questioning her.”

“I’m sure they’ll have questions for you also,” Alton said to Ernesto.

“I’m only answering one person’s questions tonight.” He kissed Rosa on the forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

* * *

“What do you mean he’s gone?” Rosa asked from the back seat of Alton’s car.

“While you were speaking with the Sierra team, I had Ernesto tailed. He went to the airport and hopped on his jet.”

She took out her cell phone and dialed Ernesto’s number.

“I’m sorry, Rosa. I love you more.”

The line went dead. “He hung up on me.”

“How he expects to get away in a plane is beyond me,” Alton said.

“Are you sure he’s on the plane?” Samson asked.

Alton laughed. “Excellent-assed question, but it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like we can arrest him for anything.”

“Rosa,” Samson said, but was greeted by silence. “Rosa.”

“He’s guilty,” she murmured. “How many more people has he had murdered?”

“I know this is hard for you, baby, but I need your help. I need a copy of the directory Ernesto tried to delete.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes. “There is no directory. He actually did delete it.” She explained how Jeff kidnapping her had prevented her from copying the directory.

CHAPTER TWENTY

One week later

“Samson, would you please turn the food? I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The smell of frying fish usually makes me hungry, but today it’s making me nauseous.”

On his way to the kitchen, Samson stopped by the computer room. “That’s my baby in there, Mrs. Quartermaine.” He bent down and kissed Rosa’s belly. “It’s time for a home pregnancy test.”

“I think it’s time for you to turn the fish before it burns,” she teased, praying he was correct.

“Your wish is my command.”

She opened the next software sample.
I’m so far behind. I’ll never catch up.
She unfolded the two-page letter that accompanied the CD-ROMs.

Hello, Rosa.

My name is David Martín.

The letter fell from her hands. “Samson! Samson! It’s David.” She scrambled to pick the pages off the floor.

Samson ran into the room. “What’s wrong?”

Her hands shook so badly, the letters looked like alphabet soup. “It’s David. He wrote to me.” She tried to focus through her tears, but couldn’t.

Samson took the letter. “Where did you get this?”

“I thought it was a software sample.” She handed him the package.

“The postmark is the week of his execution.” He took out the CDs marked: “Sierra Syndicate,” “Martín Syndicate,” and “Images for Rosa.”

“What does the letter say?” she asked. “I’m so nervous that I can’t even see straight.”

“Hello, Rosa. My name is David Martín. What I’m about to tell you will sound impossible, but I can’t die without leaving you protected.” He went on tell her about how he and Ernesto ran the Martín syndicate, he was her natural father, how Ernesto came to raise her, that he has always loved her, and that Ernesto knew about the Sierra CD, but didn’t know about the Martín one. If Ernesto ever got out of line or someone by the name of Paige came snooping around, she was to find DEA agent Samson Quartermaine and give him the CDs. All of Samson’s contact information was included in the letter along with the names, addresses, and phone numbers of his siblings and mother.

Samson put the Martín CD into the computer. David kept excellent records of distribution routes, accounts, pay-offs, hideouts, and every crooked businessperson, law enforcement officer, and government official he dealt with. “Wow,” was all he could say.

* * *

By the time you receive this, it will be a full-length manuscript.
Ernesto glanced from the computer screen out the window onto the rolling hills of his ranch.
I find myself sitting here writing to you several times a day, but can’t bring myself to press the send. My draft box is just about full.

You’ve always been so smart. I can’t even open your emails because I know you’ve already figured out how to trace the area it’s opened from. However, that’s not the reason I haven’t been in communication. I’m ashamed.
His index finger paused over the backspace key.

Someday, you’ll read all of my letters to you. My list of regrets is so extensive. I guess I do need to write a complete manuscript.

About David.
He ran his hands through his graying hair and blew out an exasperated breath.
I honestly thought he wanted to bring you into our business. I loved him, but I love you more. I protected you the only way I could. By the time I realized my mistake, short of breaking him out of jail, there was nothing I could do.

David thought I stepped in to care for Rosa Shields out of friendship. That was only part of the reason. The other part was my guilt. Please make sure she’s taken care of. She’s a good woman, just hurting. Jill knows her location.
He shook his head.
I can’t believe I betrayed my friend, my brother. I’ll never forgive myself.

I miss him.
He sighed.
I miss you both.

He saved the letter to his draft folder, then went through the house and checked the guns he’d hidden throughout the house. He would have hired security, but he didn’t want to call attention to himself. No one would think to look for him in Wolf Point, Montana. If he lay low, DEA would never find him. He had over two year’s supply of food and other necessities in storage. Anna was upstairs asleep.

He went out to the barn to get a box of photos he’d left in his truck. He hadn’t spoken to Rosa since he’d skipped town. Thoughts of his baby girl brought a smile to his face. When he first agreed to raise her, he’d never imagined he could actually love her.

The sound of a car’s engine sliced the country silence. He peeked out of the barn and saw a blue sedan approaching. It looked like there were four, maybe five passengers. He backed further into the barn, so they wouldn’t see him. He wasn’t in the mood for the Wolf Point welcoming committee or whomever it was.

* * *

“I’m not staying in the car,” Samson said. “Are you sure the perimeter’s secured?”

“If anything happens to you, Rosa will kill me, bring me back to life, then kill me again,” Alton said. “This is your last day. Stay your ass in the car.”

All five agents, including Samson, stepped out of the car. Alton rolled his eyes, then motioned an agent to wait at the rear of the house and one on each side. Samson walked up the stairs of the large Victorian style home and knocked on the door. Alton walked toward the barn.

“Ernesto, this is DEA agent Samson Quar—” The sound of a large engine revving to a start halted Samson’s words.

Alton ran for the barn with the other agents in pursuit. A black SUV sped out of the barn. The agents ran for the car, some shooting at the truck’s tires and missing.

Samson radioed to the blockade as he entered the car. “Ernesto’s headed down the private road in a black SUV. Be ready for him. Shoot his tires out. Disable his vehicle.”

Alton slammed the door of the sedan and gave chase.

Ernesto veered his truck off the main road onto what may have been a dirt path at one time. Gaining ground, Alton followed. The agents bounced in their seats as the car made its way over the branch-filled, stony path. “We need a four-wheeler,” Alton said.

“That’s exactly why he turned this way,” Samson said, holding onto the dashboard for additional balance.

“Oh, shit. If he goes up that mountain…”

“Look!” Samson pointed to their left. A government four-wheeler truck sped out of the tree line and quickly gained ground on the SUV. The passenger shot at the SUV’s tires.

Ernesto stuck his arm out the window to shoot back, hit a bump, and dropped the gun. He made a sharp turn to the right, heading directly for his neighbor’s barbed wire fence. He burst through the fence and continued, weaving through cattle.

“He’s driving like a madman,” said one of the agents in the back seat.

“I can’t go over that barbed wire.” Alton drove south along the fence to the entry. “Hold tight!” Pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the wrought-iron gate flew off its hinges as he sped through it. “Where’d they go?”

“Over there, by that pond,” Samson said.

They made their way to the pond, but had to stop at the base of a steep, rocky climb. “Damn mountains.”

“Hills, Alton. Really big hills.” Samson got out of the car and raised his hand to shade his eyes so he could see Ernesto’s truck ascend.

“Semantics mean shit to me.” Alton slammed his car door closed.

Ernesto’s front left tire went over a large rock, tilting the SUV onto two wheels briefly. Samson’s heart stopped. “Slow the hell down.” No sooner did Samson get the word “down” out of his mouth than Ernesto’s SUV tipped on two wheels again. This time, the SUV flipped.

Samson ran to Ernesto’s aid as the SUV tumbled down the hill.

* * *

Rosa tried to push through the police officers that blocked Ernesto’s hospital room. “What do you mean I can’t see him?”

“We’re sorry, ma’am, but we aren’t allowed to let anyone…”

“Samson! Alton!”

Both agents came running down the hall, badges flashing. “She’s alright,” Alton said.

Samson escorted Rosa into the room.

The tubes, monitors, I.V., bandages, a broken man… Rosa ordered her tears not to fall. They couldn’t even make an appearance. “Daddy,” she whispered.

Ernesto cracked his eyes open. “Rosa…” He drew in a belabored breath. “Forgive me.”

His obvious physical pain couldn’t compete with the emotional pain she saw in his eyes. “You’re my hero. You’re my daddy.”

His eyes slowly closed. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

A few seconds and staggered breaths later, he said, “That’s impossible.”

She laid her head on the bed and her hand on his chest. “Stick around and prove me wrong.”

* * *

One Year Later

Ernesto lifted his hand to block the sun. He’d bet there had never been a clearer, warmer, drearier day in history. He barely had a half second of freedom before the first reporter spotted him and charged with a microphone waving in the air.

“Mr. Bolívar, Mr. Bolívar!” A mob of reporters and spectators followed the young man up the cement courthouse steps, quickly surrounding Ernesto, his legal team and bodyguards.

Ernesto drew in a deep breath and snapped his game face firmly into place. Anna had ensured that he had the best legal team, judge and jury money could buy, so fear of conviction was never an issue. Yet, the one thing he wanted—needed—couldn’t be bought.

“Mr. Bolívar, now that you’ve been acquitted of all charges, do you plan to reclaim your position as CEO of Bolívar International?” a reporter shouted over the crowd.

Microphones popped out from everywhere. At one point in his life, Ernesto craved the spotlight. He sighed internally. Now, all he wanted was to hide. The only light he longed for was Rosa.

His heart filled with pride as his voice boomed, “My daughter Rosa Quartermaine is doing an excellent job of leading the company. In the year that she’s been at the helm, she brought the company through this troubling period, and she’s taken thirteen percent of the market share from our competitors.” He beamed. “She’s managed to do the impossible. The company is in good hands.” His bodyguards began clearing the way for him to get to his limo, which was waiting at the bottom of the steps.

“Mr. Bolívar,” called another reporter. “Is it true that your daughter hasn’t spoken to you since July of last year when you were upgraded to stable condition at the hospital?” The murmurs of the crowd increased.

The dagger plunged into Ernesto’s heart by the reporter’s question wasn’t visible to the human eye, but the pain was no less severe. Once he was clear of danger, the realities of his betrayal had hit her hard. He offered a polite smile to the onlookers. “My twin grandsons are named David and Ernesto.” He paused to allow the vultures to mull over his words. “Good day to you all.”

The bodyguards led the way as he quickly descended the stairs. Marcus, the chauffer, rounded the limo and opened the door for him. Ernesto ignored the questions bombarding him. He was done with his life in the public eye. He nodded at Marcus, then slid into the back seat. Marcus closed the door, and the bodyguards double-timed it to their SUVs, which were parked, one behind and one in front of them.

A reporter knocked on the rear passenger window. “Is it true Martín willed his estate to Samson Quartermaine?”

Marcus pulled away from the curb and the crowd. Ernesto wished it were that easy for him to pull away from his old life.

“Ernesto,” Anna calmly said as she placed her hand over his.

He’d seen her in the back seat, but he hadn’t
seen
her when he entered the vehicle. His heart was other places. His head fell back onto the seat. “I’ve lost Rosa,” he whispered. His eyes burned almost as much as his heart ached. This punishment was greater than anything man could dictate.

“She needs more time.”

“She’ll never believe in me again. If I’m not her hero, I’m nothing.”

As the limo rounded the corner to merge onto the expressway, Ernesto barely had the strength to keep from falling into the door, knowing he had no one to blame but himself. He’d found himself caught up in the intricate web he’d woven. He watched out the window as Marcus weaved through the traffic.

“I told her you’re working with the DEA. Teaching them the ins and outs of the drug trade.”

“I told you not to tell her. She’ll think I’m helping them to manipulate her into speaking with me.”

She raised a brow. “I know what you told me. I also know that you’re right; Rosa will never see you the same way, and things will never be the same between you two. But, honey, you were neck deep in the drug trade, hiding half of your life from her, manipulating and lying at every turn. You aren’t that person anymore. Give her time to forgive him and learn this new man. She has to do this in her time, not yours.”

Ernesto closed his eyes and prayed for Rosa’s forgiveness.