The Chase (24 page)

S
aturday morning, Kariss woke to the sound of “Great Balls of Fire” on her phone. She moaned — eight o’clock. This was not a work day. Who could be calling at this hour?

The caller ID read “Security gate,” so she answered.

“We have a delivery from Brennan’s. Looks like breakfast, ma’am.”

Just like the incident with the flowers from the preceding night, she hesitated to give the guard permission to let the truck enter.

“I’ll be right there.” She groaned and forced her legs over the bed. Who was the mystery sender? Probably Tigo.

Ten minutes later, she pulled her Prius up to the gate. The boxes stacked outside security looked like a feast for a dozen. On the top box was a card. Dread washed over her. This reeked of another one of Wyatt’s maneuvers to win Vicki over. She tore into the envelope.

This had to stop. Her first inclination was to dump the food into the trash … but it smelled so good. And Brennan’s … Vicki would have to handle this. She stared at the boxes, wondering what delicacies awaited their taste buds. She and Vicki could discuss Wyatt’s motivation over this fabulous breakfast. Sort of food for thought.

Beside the delivery boxes stood a huge decanter of fresh-brewed coffee. When she bent to examine it, she saw the two boxes positioned on either side — two crystal coffee mugs from Tiffany’s.

Okay, she’d accept this on behalf of her sister.

“Why do you think he’s displaying such extravagance?” Kariss posed the question to her sister for the second time.

“I’m horribly suspicious. His idea of breakfast was a martini at ten a.m. with two olives.”

Kariss took a generous bite of a strawberry blintz crepe, her second. “Have you thought back through your married life for what he wants? Other than the obvious abortion thing?”

Vicki nodded. “He’s working through a list of how best to get to me. Intimidation by having me followed didn’t work.”

Kariss wouldn’t shatter that supposition since Tigo didn’t know the identity of the woman at the Galleria. “As our grandma always said, ‘Honey goes further than vinegar.’ “

“Not when it comes to my baby.”

Kariss smiled. “Hey, I’m proud of you.”

“Comes with motherhood. Look at how you felt about Cherished Doe. You didn’t give up until the right people got involved. We women are nurturers.”

Vicki had no idea how far she’d gone to help Xavier. “Yeah, I see where your courage is coming from.”

“I forgot to thank Tigo for approaching Wyatt about the Galleria incident. Would you take care of that for me?”

“Already did. Are you going to call Wyatt?”

Vicki nodded. “I won’t be ugly, but I am going to get to the bottom of this.” She took a sip of orange juice. “He’s bought his way through life, and I’m included in that venture. But no more.

I’m not going to abort this baby or give it up for adoption. So he can save his pennies for child support.”

“I wonder if Lissa knows about his … generosity?”

Vicki’s eyes brightened. “Trust me, I’ll use last night and this morning as ammunition. She’s demanding and possessive. I’m sure if she heard about the flowers and food, she’d have him sleeping on the couch.”

“Tell me why they’re attending church?”

“That’s simple. He has a new trophy. Two of them. I’m sure he’s making notes about business the whole time he’s there. I’d love to get someone to ask him about the sermons.”

“So he’s making sure everyone sees him in church and does the forgiveness thing. Then if they have need for a commercial real estate broker, they come to him?”

“Exactly.”

“Vicki, listen to me. I’ve heard you say you’re through with him before. Then he manipulates you into doing whatever he wants. Mom and Dad, me, and the rest of the family are here to support you.”

“Nothing’s going to stop me from providing a good home for my baby — without Wyatt. He cheated on me repeatedly, and he’s probably doing the same with Lissa. I could never trust him again. Not unless God sent a lightning bolt.”

Once they concluded breakfast and refrigerated the leftovers, which would last them a few days, Vicki excused herself to phone Wyatt. Kariss so wanted to listen in, but she wasn’t invited.

Vicki placed a dish towel beside the sink. “I’ll fill you in when I’m finished.”

“I hadn’t said a word about listening in.” Kariss took a deep breath. “But I wanted to.”

“Don’t worry. Taking notes is my specialty, and I’ll jot down things while talking to him. I might need them down the road with legal proceedings.”

Thirty minutes later, Kariss couldn’t wait a moment longer.

She stood at the bottom of the stairway leading up to Vicki’s suite, as she’d decided to term it. Not a sound resonated. “Are you okay?” she shouted up.

“Yes. Still wondering why he’s wasting time and money.”

“Can I be debriefed?”

“Sure. I’ll bring down my notes in just a sec. In short, he feels guilty about the way he’s treated me over the years. Wants to make up for it.”

“Did he toss out a dollar figure?”

“Nope. Just useless platitudes about what a good wife I was.”

“Note the word ‘was.’ “

“And he plans to change churches. Says it’s too hard on Lissa.”

Kariss shook her head. “Pardon me while I throw up. Say, how about pedicures today?”

“Not unless I buy.”

“Then I’ll flip for lunch.”

“Make it dinner. I’ll be stuffed until then.”

Kariss laughed. She’d treasure these special moments with her sister for as long as possible.

Cheeky swam to the other end of his pool and stepped out. Monika handed him a towel, her string bikini reminding him of their encounter earlier in the day, and he was ready again. “Why don’t you go on inside, and I’ll be right there.”

She gave him an alluring smile and disappeared. Women were his passion, and he usually grew bored within a month or so, but not yet with Monika. Not since Delores had he been this consumed with a woman.

He snatched his phone and pressed in Paulo’s number. He trusted Hershey about as much as he trusted a dog, but the man had brought him a legitimate business proposal, one he needed to rid himself of Bates and Masterson. The paper trail checked out — bank accounts, references, clients. But he knew how all that was done, and this could be a setup. Yet if he found a new supplier who saved him thousands of dollars, it was worth the risk. One way to find out, and that was to have a face-to-face with lots of muscle.

Paulo answered on the first ring.

“Got a Monday-night meeting at the place we spoke about yesterday. I need heavy security.”

“Okay. Followed Bates and Masterson. The two argued about something.”

“Good. Plays into my plans.”

“I think one of them is tipping off the
policía
about our mules.”

“I don’t pay you to think.” Cheeky narrowed his eyes. He knew Masterson had been seen with a member of the Skulls. “After Monday night, I’ll decide how to dispose of him.” Both men would end up dead. They’d overcharged him long enough, and neither of them had given him the information he needed to eliminate Kariss Walker. Useless.

Saturday afternoon at home, Tigo studied the report from last night’s shooting on his Blackberry. The FIG had given him more information about the gang rivalry between the Arroyos and the Skulls. He still didn’t know what had caused the fight.

The Arroyo who remained in critical condition refused to comment, but Jo-Jack had said the two gangs were vying for the Gulf Coast gun-smuggling market. Although the Arroyos were a larger gang, the Skulls had gained ground by staying under the local law enforcement’s radar. They were like snakes, stealing through the night, silent with deadly intent. Tigo was certain Bates and Masterson were selling to the Arroyos. What would be the benefit of supplying both gangs with weapons? More money? Both smuggled across the border, filling the demands of cartels. Could the same cartel be buying from both gangs? Or did the cartels really care as long as they had their assault rifles and ammo? It made sense that if one gang was paralyzed, the other would fill all the orders. He’d find the answers as he wove into Cheeky’s small circle of business acquaintances.

A text from Ryan alerted him.

Tigo checked in with his mother’s nurse and left for the hospital. The victim had refused to give his name, but his prints were in the FBI’s database — José Miguel, wanted for armed robbery and assault in El Paso.

Ryan met Tigo outside Miguel’s room, where two HPD officers guarded the door. Inside the man lay awake. IVs and machines stabilized him after surgery.

“Miguel, I’m Special Agent Tigo Harris from the FBI, and this is Special Agent Ryan Steadman. We need to ask you a few questions.”

The man scowled, his glare full of hate.

“Suit yourself,” Tigo said. “You’re wanted for armed robbery in El Paso, and we’ll send you back there as soon as you can be moved. Or we can turn you over to a couple of Skulls.”

Ryan paced the room. “I’d rather Cheeky found out that one of his boys cooperated with us.”

“Good idea,” Tigo said. “Miguel here would be dead by morning.”

“What kind of questions?” Miguel spit the words.

Tigo bent over the bed. “What caused the fight?”

“Two gangs. What do you expect?”

“Because we have reason to believe it was more than that. Gun smuggling is big business. Rumors are the Arroyos are losing money, and the Skulls are selling to the cartels.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We’re being tipped off when one of Cheeky’s transports is heading into Mexico. That means the Arroyos are paying for guns and ammo that aren’t making it across the border.”

Miguel swore. “You paid for bad information.”

“Don’t think so. Who is setting you up? My guess is the Skulls would pay more for the guns, giving the supplier a bigger profit.”

Tigo stepped back, and Ryan walked to the other side of Miguel’s bed. “Give us a few names, and we’ll make sure the charges are lessened against you.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Ryan snorted. “That tells me we’re right on. Who’s supplying the guns?”

“Only Cheeky knows that.”

“How can we find him?”

“Your problem.”

Ryan gazed at the IV bags dripping into Miguel’s vein. “What happens when these tubes stop pouring meds into your body?”

“Forget it. I’m not telling you anything.”

“Think about it.” Ryan nodded at Tigo. “Any parting words for our friend here before we leave?”

“His choice. He knows what we can do. We’ll make sure this hits the media with his face and name. Make it easy on the Skulls.”

They left the hospital with the knowledge that they might be closer to finding out why the Arroyos were out for blood. He was eager to see if Bates’s or Masterson’s names were mentioned during the gun buy with Cheeky.