The Cartel (34 page)

“Hey, amigo, why don't you put the book away tonight and we'll go out and party?” Hector called out to Alex.

"Nah, I’m tired. You should take it easy, if we’re leaving early in the morning."

“Fuck that, man. You know you really ought to try and enjoy all our new riches. Shit like this don’t happen every day.”

Hector was right
. Shit
like this didn’t happen every day. There was a catch somewhere. For now, Alex would go along for the ride, hoping he didn’t crash on his way to discovering what the catch was.

“But I don’t want a party,” Bella told her father.

“It will make you feel better. You’ve always loved parties. And this one will be in your honor.”

“My honor? Honor for
what
? Please Papa, don’t give me a party. I don’t want people seeing me in this thing,” she replied, referring to her wheelchair.

“You’re being foolish. Everyone knows that your wheelchair is only a temporary device. Please, consider allowing me to give you this party. Do it for me.”

“For you?” Bella turned the wheelchair around to face the window in the front room overlooking the ocean below. Her father had brought her to the vacation house—she’d always loved staying here in the past, but now, nothing mattered.

“Yes.”

“For you? That’s funny and sad, Papa, because I’ve tried for years to do everything for you. I went away for you, to a school where you could forget all about me. I became a world-class rider to make you proud of me. I received excellent marks in school for you. I did everything to please you. Now look at me. I’m confined in a wheelchair, my horse is dead, and my dreams destroyed. Right now, Papa, I don’t want to do anything for you, or for me, or for anyone else.”

Javier walked over to the window and bent down to Bella. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, tears in his eyes. She turned her face away from him. He sighed. “Whatever you like.” He left the room.

Pedro, who’d been within hearing distance in the kitchen, approached Bella. He too bent down, but lacked the kindness her father had bestowed upon her. He grabbed her shoulders, “Let me tell you something. That man loves you with all his heart and soul. He regrets ever hurting you. In fact, it is the biggest regret of his life. You will quit pitying yourself. You will let him throw you a party, and you will start allowing the physical therapist to work with you, and you
will
get better. I do not want to hear any protests. I’m going to see your father now and tell him that you’ve changed your mind.”

Pedro left the room leaving Bella stunned and slightly ashamed of herself, but how dare Pedro speak to her like that. Who did he think he was? There was a knot in her stomach for the way she’d treated her father. In that aspect, maybe Pedro was right. Her father was only trying to make her happy.

Bella decided to go down to the stables. She hadn’t seen a horse since her accident. She struggled with her wheelchair to get there, her arms sore, but she finally made it. Her childhood horse Salsa was still stabled there, eating and aging. All of the family’s retired horses came to live at the vacation home in Costa Careyes after retirement. It had been a standing joke within the family that once a horse earned his keep for the Rodriguez family he would live the rest of his life in style. She was happy Salsa had been brought here to live out his final years. If only Delilah could have also had the same fortune…

Salsa peeked his head out in curiosity as he watched his girl rolling down the stable aisle in what must’ve seemed to him a strange contraption. He devoured the carrot she offered him, placing his face in her arms when finished with his treat. She hugged him back and as she felt the his breath upon her neck, she broke into tears. The horse remained in Bella’s arms, as if he understood that was what she needed. He nuzzled her as she patted him gently. Horses had been her life for so long that the possibility of never riding one again was something she could not bear to imagine. Her father was a good man and she knew he loved her, but it didn’t take away what she’d endured and his love couldn’t fulfill the life she’d expected to live.

*****

The hacienda was filled with an air of festivity, festooned with decorations in pink and white, flowers adorning each room. Isabella prepared for the party in her room with her nurse Maria, who’d been helping her with her physical therapy. Butterflies fiddled around in her stomach as she thought about the guests and what their reactions to her disability might be. She refused to allow anyone to pity her. She also regretted the fact that Miguel was unable to come. She’d sent him a letter inviting him, but he’d responded that he was busy working on a new crusade to fight crime in their country. This bothered her. He normally wouldn’t have missed this party for anything. He’d also enclosed something very disturbing in his letter to her. It was a small article from a radical newspaper, claiming that her father worked with the Colombians transporting drugs. The article also claimed that the recent elections had been fixed, in order for her father to win, remaining in control, since he was in favor of those who supported their world of wealth. Bella ripped the article up and tried to dispel it from her thoughts. She was angry with Miguel for sending it to her. She could not believe that her father could be corrupt. But she’d also overheard a conversation between two of the cooks some days earlier, gossiping about what they knew of their employer’s source of wealth.

"What is troubling you so?" her nurse asked, interrupting Bella’s thoughts as she brushed her hair up into a chignon.

"It’s nothing.” She fell silent, but then decided to continue. It had been a long time since she’d confided in anyone. “I heard something terrible about my father."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"I don't know if I should say anything. It's probably nothing, really."

"Listen to me. If it’s bothering you so much, you need to tell somebody."

Bella sighed, and fiddled with the bracelet on her arm, while she spoke. "The other day, I was in the kitchen. I overheard some of the cooks talking about Papa and my Godfather. They were saying that Papa and Antonio are involved in drug-trafficking and killing people. You know those death squads you hear people talking about? They were saying that Antonio orders them and that Papa is also involved in seeing those types of orders are carried out."

"Oh child, none of that's true. You pay no mind to idle gossip. They're bored idiots, who need to make up stories out of jealousy. People who have wealth like your father and godfather are always targets of malicious lies. You need not listen to such talk or worry your pretty head about it. Who was saying these awful things?"

"I don't know. I think it was Jorge and Horacio."

"If you ever hear them saying such things again, I want you to come straight to me and let me know, all right? That kind of poison need not be spread here in your father’s home. I promise you that they’re nothing but silly rumors."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Come now, let's finish getting you dressed. You don't want to be late for your own party, do you?"

"No." That was a lie, but she would do this for her father. She thought about what Maria had told her and the denials that her father was involved in any wrong doing, but in the back of Bella’s mind, the thought still remained, a bit quieter now, but still there. Was her father a corrupt man?

Antonio paced back and forth in the large conference room. He would meet his son face to face today. Would the boy recognize him? Would he look into Antonio’s eyes and know who he was? Maybe he should have called the whole thing off, but it was too late now. They were scheduled to arrive at any moment.

Javier walked into the room, smoothing back what little hair he had left. "I've just been informed they've arrived."

"Could you pour me a Scotch?" Antonio asked him.

"You all right? You seem uptight. This is only to meet our new west coast distributors. Emilio assures me they’re good men to go with. He checked them out. Why so tense?"

Antonio sighed. He hadn’t wanted to tell Javier the truth yet about who the new west coast distributor was and how it had all come about, but he had known that he and Marta had a child together and Antonio couldn’t help wondering if Javier would recognize the fact that they were father and son. If so, he would feel betrayed and Antonio did not want that.

"I will be, once you get me that Scotch.” His hands shook as he reached inside his suit pocket for his cigarette case. Lighting a cigarette, he took a long drag.

Javier went to the marble bar and poured his friend the Scotch straight up. Antonio swallowed it in one gulp and slammed the glass down. After finishing the drink he told the news to his
compadre.

“The man coming her in minutes is your son?”

“Yes.”

“And he has no idea that you’re his father.”

“Yes.”

“Dios Mio.”

“Yes.”

“What are you going to do?”

“For now, nothing. Put the boy to work. Maybe in time when trust is there between us on that level I will tell him. For now, it will only backfire on me and us. I’m certain he has a strong hatred for his father.” He sighed. “For me, and I don’t know if I can take that. Can you keep this a secret?”

Javier nodded. “Of course.” He walked over to the bar and made himself a drink in an obvious attempt to swallow and digest this unsettling news, but Antonio knew him to be true and a man of his word. This could only strengthen their bond. Lies would break their partnership apart. Antonio knew enough about deceit to be aware of that fact.

A few minutes later, a handful of men walked in, Emilio in front. Alex had grown in size, and his face had matured a great deal, but his eyes still resembled his father’s. He stood out from the other two, far more elegant than either of them. For such a young man who’d never been provided the lavish lifestyle or riches he’d been entitled to, he’d grown up with the same grace and elegance characteristic of his mother. His demeanor was that of a gentleman. Antonio wanted to wrap his arms around him and shout to the world,
“This is my son
.” Instead, he suppressed his feelings as he reached out his hand. "Hello, gentlemen. I am Antonio Espinoza, and this is my friend and business associate, Javier Rodriguez."

Alex shook his hand first. It was as strong as he’d expected. Antonio studied him to see if there were any signs of recognition in Alex’s eyes. There were many similarities between himself and his son: the high cheekbones and dark eyes. Did Alex notice them as well?

"Hey there, Antonio. I'm Hector Sanchez." The bumbling idiot shoved his hand into Antonio's, obviously embarrassing Alex, whose face turned red as he nudged his associate away.

Antonio didn't like this kid, since he could see that he was an ordinary greaser. He also seemed high as a kite and tipsy as well. Antonio recognized the same symptoms in his brother Emilio. Unlike his confederates, Alex appeared straight and coherent. Antonio had been in the industry long enough to tell who was using and who wasn't. Dammit if Emilio wasn’t high on cocaine at that moment. Antonio wanted to shake him.

"Hey, why don't we all have a drink?” Emilio said. He was already pouring himself a shot at the bar.

"Emilio, sit down. We are not here to socialize. We're here for a meeting. Please, gentlemen, won't you take a seat?" Antonio motioned to the long table and chairs. As he did, two bodyguards slipped into the room, standing on each side of the door.

“We appreciate your coming down here so that could meet with the newest members of our team,” Javier began after they’d all been seated. “Emilio has said some very good things about you.”

“Hey, no problem,
amigo
. We were glad to come,” Hector replied.

“Excellent,” Antonio remarked. “I understand that Emilio has gotten you both set up. From this point on, you will be answering to me.” He directed his words to Alex.

“Cool, Patrón,” Hector said.

“No, not
you
.” Antonio’s voice crackled with harshness. “You will do the job you’ve been assigned up to do with Emilio. You will be checking in with him. Alejandro, I expect you to keep perfect records of all transactions. I expect you to show them to no one but myself or Javier.”

Emilio raised his eyebrows. Antonio noticed, but did not change his wording.

“Of course,” Alex replied. He was relieved that his dealings with Emilio would be limited from now on. He liked this Antonio Espinoza. There was something about him that comforted Alex. He didn’t understand it, as he didn’t comprehend why he and Hector had become the chosen ones. Pieces in this puzzle still didn’t fit, as far as Alex was concerned, but he had nothing to lose. Besides, this position offered him the money and power he needed to seek his long-lost father with and make him pay the dues he owed him and his mother.

Alex felt an immediate respect for Antonio. He also liked Javier. The two exuded a sense of power, wealth, and dignity. They were different from Emilio, who was merely ostentatious and crude. The meeting lasted about an hour. To Alex, it seemed more a formality than the meeting of minds Emilio had led them to expect.