Caught Up (Indigo Vibe) (8 page)

“You’re not going to badger her. She’s innocent until proven guilty. Ernesto is innocent until proven guilty. Do I think he’s involved? Yes. But what I think doesn’t mean squat.”

“Why you always got to be the damned cavalry? Listen, I’m sorry about your sister. But Rosa
is not
your sister. Rosa
is not
an innocent bystander. Ernesto and David are in on this together, and Rosa is their child. They’ve trained her to take over some day. No one would suspect a female drug lord. Damn, I’m impressed. The shit is brilliant.”

A year had passed, but the pain of losing his sister drowned Samson in a flash flood of emotion. She’d had such a promising life ahead of her. If he’d only been there for her, she might still be alive. An image of Rosa twirling the tiny curls beside her ear came to his mind. She didn’t deserve what was headed her way. With her family in such disarray, he worried she wouldn’t have the support she needed, just as his sister hadn’t.

Alton stopped mid-tirade. “Oh hell. I’m sorry, man. I was out of line. This case has me by the balls.”

“It’s all right. I’m fine.” Samson had found her lifeless body hanging from a beam in the basement.

A long, awkward pause passed between the lifelong friends. “You know,” Alton said, “your sleeping with Rosa may be a good idea. We can work you into the Mart
ín syndicate through her. Crooked agents are a dime a dozen.”

“I’m not sleeping with her.” Samson chuckled. All Alton thought about was sex and running the DEA someday.

“Sure you won’t,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “I’ll have them prepare the chopper for our trip back to Miami. I’ll find out what hotel she’s staying at, so you can pay her a visit.”

“Forget it.”

Alton left the room. Samson turned the volume up on the monitor. He wanted Rosa, but for more than her body. He had never felt this strong of an attraction before. Not even for his ex-wife. He longed to explore things with Rosa; but, unfortunately, she was off limits.

* * *

“Can you do me a favor?” Rosa asked.

“As long as it’s legal.” David winked.

“Tell Samson about those Sierra people, so they’ll commute your sentence.”

Folding chairs placed so that they were sitting knee to knee, he took her hands into his. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Why?”

“For one thing, I don’t want my sentence commuted. I always knew I’d be dead by the time I was fifty. Here I am in my sixties, healthy as a horse, and still kickin’. I’d rather they kill me now than die slowly in that cell.”

She didn’t know how to comment, so she remained silent.

“And why should I help these assholes?”

“Because people are dying,” she said quietly.

“Look, baby girl. If they bring down Sierra tomorrow, there’s already someone there today to take their place.”

“Did you really kill that DEA informant and his crew?”

“Samson tell you to ask these questions?”

“He asked me to talk to you. I read everything I could about you on the Internet and couldn’t figure out why you killed them.”

“The DEA should pay you.” He sat up in his chair. “I’m not a nice person, Rosa. He wasn’t the first person I’ve killed.”

The little man sitting and joking with her all afternoon didn’t fit the mold of a cold-blooded murderer. It just couldn’t compute in her mind. “Why’d you do it?”

“After I got his ungrateful ass into the Sierra organization, the bastard tried to blackmail me.”

“Did you know he was working for the DEA?”

“Hell, yeah. But I made him and his crew pay. Look. They’re gonna come for me soon, and I haven’t had the chance to say ‘happy birthday’ to my little girl.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. “I’m sorry I’m not the man you wanted me to be. I’m ninety-nine percent monster.” He gazed into her eyes. “That last percent is all heart and belongs to you.”

Unsure of her feelings, she leaned her head on his shoulder. How could she love a murderer? She smiled internally. She didn’t love a murderer; she loved that one percent heart. “Thank you for giving me to Ernesto. You did the right thing.” Now she fully understood why Ernesto kept David a secret. He didn’t want his baby to know the ninety-nine percent monster who had fathered her.

“I’ll always do what’s best for my little girl.” He released her and reached into his breast pocket, pulling out the picture of the rose on a black background he’d drawn. “I know it isn’t much.” He handed it to her. “But I want you to have this.”

She unfolded the paper. “It’s beautiful. Did you actually draw this?” He nodded. “Amazing. Thank you. I’ll buy a frame for it when I return to Chicago.” He flushed with embarrassment, and she laughed. “Uh-oh, the big bad tough drug lord has a soft spot. Do you think they’ll let me visit you again?”

“I’d love to see you every day, but I won’t allow it. I have a lot of enemies. If they find out I care about you, your life won’t be worth shit. They killed my son. I won’t sacrifice my daughter. Promise me, you’ll never return.”

“I’m not afraid of—”

“Rosa, please.”

She held the picture of the rose close to her heart. This convict had shown more love and concern for her in two hours than her mother had in thirty years. “I’ll do as you say.”

A corrections officer stepped into the room. “It’s time to go.”

David embraced her tightly, whispering, “Don’t trust anyone but Samson. He’ll take care of you. I love you, Rosa.”

“I love you, too.”

He kissed her on the cheek, then walked out.

CHAPTER SIX

Samson stood in the doorway of the interview room and cleared his throat. Rosa didn’t lift her head or acknowledge his presence in any way. She continued twirling the curls by her ear and staring through the speckled linoleum floor. He stepped fully into the room, then tilted her chin up with his finger. Her sorrowful eyes gripped him, drawing him into her pain.

“Come with me.” He held out his hand.

She took his hand and followed him out. He led her through the maze of corridors into the warden’s office. He’d arranged for the debriefing interview to be there to help her feel more comfortable.

As she looked out the window, he watched her. “Penny for your thoughts.”

Her slow smile warmed him. “He thinks a lot of you,” she finally said. “I think you’re the only one he didn’t call a bastard.”

Samson chuckled. “He’s a bit much, isn’t he?”

She returned to watching the prison yard. The sun was setting and soon the protesters would be going home. “I didn’t expect to feel anything for him,” she said softly. “I wanted to know who he was. How we’re alike. I don’t want to feel for him. I have a father. I love my father.”

“Your feelings for David don’t diminish your feelings for your father.”

“But he’s a murderer.”

“He’s not the same person anymore. He’s still an asshole.” They shared a smile. “But his heart has changed. Over the past year, I saw him change from that ninety-nine percent monster to ninety-nine percent heart.”

“He wouldn’t tell me who Sierra is. He doesn’t care about the people they’re hurting.”

Samson was impressed that she’d asked. Because of her, they no longer had to suspect why David had killed those men. “You’re more important to him than those people. He’s trying to protect you. He thinks if he tells about Sierra, they’ll kill you to punish him.” He paused. “And he’s right. He won’t risk your safety, especially when he knows another drug syndicate is ready to take the place of Sierra.”

“So he dies?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window.

“What is it?” he asked.

After a long while she answered, “I’m afraid of what else I don’t know.” She opened her eyes and a tear fell.

He drew her into his arms, rocking her gently. “I can’t begin to imagine how hard this is for you. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” She fit as if she’d been made for his embrace, for him to protect, for him.

Alton walked into the warden’s office. “What have we here, Frick and Frack?” He motioned toward the two. They were both wearing black suits: Rosa had on a firebrick red shell to add a little color, and Samson wore a black tie with a thin swirl of red.

“Don’t start,” Samson warned before he made introductions.

“Pleased to meet you, Agent Miles.” Rosa held out her hand.

He brushed by her. “Umm-hmm. Grab a seat.” He tossed his legal pad on the table, set his briefcase under the table and took a seat.

Samson rolled one of the office chairs out for her, then pushed it in gently as she sat. He would check Alton about his rude behavior in private.

“Thank you, Samson,” she said.

“Why are you here?” Alton snapped.

Her eyes turned as cold, hard, and deadly as black ice, but her voice remained calm. “If you wish for this interview to continue, I suggest you step to me correctly.”

Samson had seen Alton stare many a soul down, but Rosa didn’t flinch. Alton had finally met his match.

“My apologies,” Alton grumbled as he straightened his tie.

“I’m here to visit my biological father, David Martín.”

“And you didn’t know he was your father until yesterday?”

“My father is Ernesto Bolívar,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I didn’t know David Martín was my biological father until yesterday.”

Waiting to see where Alton’s line of questioning would lead, Samson stood off to the side. He knew Alton would try to connect Ernesto and David, but
how
was the question.

“Your fathers grew up together in Chicago?”

“Yes.”

“Then David gave you to Ernesto.”

“Yes.”

“Wow, that’s some friendship.” He waited for her comment, which she didn’t volunteer. “Your biological father is the head of the drug world and your ‘father’ is the head of the business world. Interesting.”

“Very.”

“Ernesto just acquired a major European distribution company,” Alton said as he stared into her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Agent Miles. I missed the question. Bolívar International acquires companies all the time.”

Samson knew Alton was insinuating that the distribution company would be used to traffic drugs. He also had a feeling Rosa knew.

“No question. I’m just thinking aloud. Too many coincidences is no coincidence.” He drew a small tic-tac-toe board on his legal pad. “Ernesto is a Colombian of the lighter variety, correct?”

“Yes. Just as those of African descent are in this country, Afro-Colombians come in all shades.”

He put an X in the middle of the board. “He found out about David’s affair with his wife, correct?”

“Yes.”

He marked X in the upper right corner. “He was moving up in the business world when you were born, correct?”

“Yes.”

He placed an X in the lower left corner. “What are the chances of an upwardly mobile, Colombian male raising the black female baby of the man who cheated with his wife?” He crossed the three X’s.

She raised a brow. “You are aware that is a two person game, aren’t you?”

He smirked. “You are aware that upwardly mobile, Colombian males do not raise black female babies of men who fuck their wives, aren’t you?”

“So who raised me?” Rosa didn’t flinch at Alton’s vulgarity, but Samson was ready to strangle him. Witnessing how the investigators had probably treated his sister increased his protectiveness for Rosa. For some reason Alton had decided she was the enemy, but Samson would ensure objectivity.

“It’s not who,” Alton continued, “but why. Men aren’t that great friends, yet he took the responsibility of raising a known drug lord’s child. Do you know how much scandal it would have caused had word leaked out? This is back in the seventies.” He flipped open the file and sorted through documentation. “Hell, he actually raised you on his own when he had the capital to hire a nanny.”

“So because he’s a good father and friend, he must be dirty? Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”

“It doesn’t add up.”

“They’d been friends their whole lives. David even saved his life before.”

“Yes, Ernesto’s best friend was working his way up the drug syndicate ladder while he worked his way up the corporate ladder, yet they never decided to join forces.” He held his hand up. “Wait a second.” He drew another tic-tac-toe board. “I feel another round coming on.”

Samson had to give it to Rosa. She seemed unfazed by Alton’s antics and accusations. She sat patiently, expressionless. He’d never seen a better poker face.

“Have you ever seen your birth certificate?” He placed an X in the upper right corner.

“Yes.”

“Ernesto has always been listed as your father.” He marked X in the lower left corner. “Can you explain why Ernesto went against the laws of nature and raised the child of the man who his wife cheated with?” He put an X in the center, then drew a line through the three X’s. “They’d always intended on raising you to take over the syndicate and Bolívar International. They hid Ernesto from the DEA’s radar to raise you.”

Rosa laughed. Not a light feminine laugh, but a deep belly laugh that sent tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry. We just went through this whole production for…” she paused, “for nothing, I guess. Maybe your friendships are as shallow as you, but others have something of substance. I’m tired, hungry, and have a flight to catch. This is a waste of my time and the taxpayers’ money.” She stood, nodding at Samson. “It was a pleasure meeting you. How do I get out?”

“There’s an officer waiting outside the door.”

“Thank you.” She walked out.

Samson waited a few seconds after Rosa left. “That had to be the most counterproductive interview in the history of the DEA—make that any government agency. Alienating someone who we need to work with wasn’t good enough for you. No. You had to go all out. If she or Ernesto is involved in this, you just showed how weak our hand is. We have to go back sixty years and start from scratch. It’ll be days before we’re ready for Ernesto. Do you know how much damage control he can do in that time? Yes, I’m attracted to Rosa, but I’m not allowing it to interfere with what we need to do. Instead of worrying about my love life, you’d better check yourself.”

“This is all too neat, too pretty. How could she not know about Ernesto?”

“Maybe you’re right, but you’re going about this wrong. Take a step back and think about what you’ve just done.”

“I know. I know. I just…” Alton pushed away from the table. “I can’t stand that little bastard. He’s winning.”

“What does David have to do with your blowing this interview?”

“I saw him in the hallway. He was his usual ass of a self, gloating and shit. I wanted to slap him tall. Then when I saw you two together in here, I just snapped.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Damn, I fucked up man. Do you think we can recover?”

“I don’t think Rosa’s involved. She doesn’t want Ernesto to know she visited David until after the execution. If we can keep this out of the media, we may have enough time to do the research before Ernesto can cover his tracks.”

“I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, why don’t we pay visits to George and Harriet Wells?” Alton ripped the tic-tac-toe covered sheet from the legal pad and crumpled the page. “Do you honestly believe Rosa isn’t involved?”

“She isn’t.”

“What about Ernesto?”

“I don’t know yet. I’d need to speak with him in person.” Samson had become an expert at reading people. He saw more than what they said. He could sense what they weren’t saying. “And David loves her. I can’t believe he’d just walk away, not even in his early days.”

“Then you do think she’s involved?”

“No, I know she isn’t involved.”

“You need to run over to her hotel and get a little somethin’-somethin’ so you can think straight again. You just said it didn’t make sense for David to walk away.” He tossed the crumpled paper at the garbage can. The shot banked off the corner of the desk and went in. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout.”

Samson watched out the window as Rosa hailed a taxi. “I don’t know what happened, but she didn’t know about David. No one is that good of an actor. We need to check out Ernesto.”

“I made a file on Rosa.” He reached under the table for his briefcase, then set it on the table and opened it. “She’s a trust fund baby worth over a hundred million. I have the guys working on Ernesto, Harriet, and George.” He fished Rosa’s file out of a sea of a documents, fast food wrappers, and napkins.

“I want to know why the connection between him and David wasn’t made sooner.” In Samson’s opinion, the fact that the information was missing placed more guilt at Ernesto’s door. Why else would the connections be erased?

“That makes two of us,” Alton added. “I’m on it. You need to get going.” He grinned from ear to ear. “Don’t keep Rosa waiting.”

“I’m not sleeping with her, Alton.”

* * *

I’m not sure how I feel about David. I love who he is, but I can’t accept who he was. I guess I shouldn’t dwell on his past, but thank God he’s changed. I’ll pray that he’ll give the DEA the information they need.
Rosa curled her legs underneath herself, resituating the journal on the arm of the hotel sofa.

I’m shocked Daddy hasn’t come banging on my door yet. I’m sure he’s checked with my new client. I need to tell him about my visit. I don’t trust that Agent Miles. I see why David calls him the bastard.
She drew a smiley face.
I wouldn’t put it past him to fabricate evidence to make a bust.
Daddy needs to protect himself.

Samson.
Her body warmed. She took off her robe and tossed it to the side.
How can so much umm umm good be stuffed into one person? Whew, what a man! And that voice. Lawd, have mercy! It’s as deep and rich as his skin. Boy howdy! Let me stop before this becomes an erotica entry.

Laughing at herself, she set the journal and pen on the coffee table and picked up her book. Though exhausted, she knew Ernesto would be pulling a “surprise” check on her. She’d rather stay up than be woken.

She fought against it, but fell asleep. Samson visited her in her dreams. They were just about to kiss when a knocking sound woke her. “Aw, Daddy, what timing,” she said as she dragged herself to the door.

* * *

Samson tapped the door lightly with his knuckle to avoid waking Rosa. He’d gone home, showered and changed to jeans and a gray T-shirt. Restless, he drove around Miami. The next thing he knew, he’d pulled into the parking lot of her hotel. He stepped away to leave.

The door flew open. “Daddy!” Rosa froze, big black eyes wide open and hands to her mouth. She swung the door closed. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back.”

She was the cutest little thing in her rainbow print pajamas and bunny slippers. He’d expected to see her wearing a satin negligee. He grinned, admitting he’d fantasized about seeing her in a satin negligee.

She opened the door, this time wearing a robe over her nightclothes. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually answer the door like that.”

He followed her into the living area. Her suite was the same size as his apartment. There was no way he could afford a woman like Rosa. She’d want to be wined and dined in the manner she was accustomed to.

Her strides were determined, yet feminine. He quickly found himself hypnotized by the sway of her hips. The dark suit she’d worn earlier did nothing to accentuate her shapely figure. The robe’s material was light and fell about her figure nicely, leaving just enough for the imagination.

“Would you like some juice?” she said over her shoulder.

His eyes moved from her backside to her face a tad bit too late. Face heated almost as hot as his loins, he commented, “Nice robe.” Her light laughter helped ease his embarrassment.