The Chase (28 page)

E
xhausted, Kariss crawled into bed thinking she’d be able to sleep for the next ten hours, but her mind refused to rest. She’d nearly been killed, and the danger persisted like a horrible disease for which there was no cure. Scenes flashed before her eyes. Tattooed men with evil intent. Dialogue repeated. Worry about Xavier continued. Had he survived? Would he agree to whatever Cheeky demanded? She had no answers.

God had saved her … not Tigo and Ryan. What did that mean?

Her cell rang. She hesitated to answer, but she didn’t want the sound waking Vicki. A quick glance showed it was Tigo. Dread consumed her but she pressed Talk.

“Are you okay?” Concern filled his voice.

If she had a definition of the word
okay
, she might have an answer. “I think so.”

“I want to apologize for slapping you.”

“You already did.” In the darkness of her room, she closed her eyes. “You helped save my life. I was so foolish. I’m sorry for interfering with your operation.”

“Kariss, you can’t save every child in danger.”

Instantly her thoughts transported her back to the fire. She heard the cries. Saw the leaping flames. Would she ever be free? Would God take away the guilt? “But I must try.”

“Not if you end up dead.”

“I’m trying to make some sense of my actions, the poison that drives me to do stupid things.”

He sighed. “Try to get some sleep, and I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll get this thing figured out.”

“I meant what I said earlier. Let me help if the deal requires me in the exchange.”

“No, Kariss. We’ll stage your death. That’s an easy fix. Almost lost you tonight.”

His words bordered on endearing, and she wondered if he was feeling the same attraction she did. All of this was more than she could manage. “All right. I’ll be there in the morning … with your coffee.”

“Kariss—”

“Good night.” She disconnected the call before he said more. Tigo seemed to understand her inner workings — motivation — even if she didn’t understand herself. Rest would not come tonight. She needed to pray for Xavier and all those involved in stopping the Arroyos.

How strange that, after all the years of growing up in church and youth groups and family devotions, nothing had made sense until now. God had preserved her life for a purpose, and she’d have to keep her eyes open to what He intended. Her gift of writing had come from Him … Just like her parents claimed. Yet would He take away the voices? Perhaps they’d always be there.

Would she tell her parents or Vicki about becoming a Christian? No. She’d just show the change.

Tuesday morning before his meeting with Linc and Ryan, Tigo made the necessary arrangements to stage Kariss’s death — an FBI agent found murdered on the southeast side of town. He made sure the Spanish stations were included and added she’d been involved in a gun-smuggling investigation. That should keep Kariss safe until after Monday night. If the case wasn’t wrapped up then, he’d force her out of town.

“Have you heard from Xavier?” Ryan said as they walked to the elevator to Linc’s office.

“Not yet. HPD hasn’t been notified of a homicide.” Tigo shook his head. “I hate the idea of him getting involved with the Arroyos, but he might not have a choice. Gilberto is supposed to call the moment he shows up.”

“Xavier is a believer. I can’t imagine him working for the Arroyos, but intimidation works, and Cheeky had information about Delores.”

“I agree. Hopefully we’ll know something today. A couple of agents picked up Kariss’s car. I’m not going to let her have it until this is over. She can rent another vehicle. Preferably a tank.”

“I have a little more info on Bates and Masterson.” Ryan waved at an agent down the hall. “We have them videoed together Saturday night. Both men attended the same gala fundraiser in River Oaks. We have the two talking in private on a back terrace.”

“Was anything recorded?”

“No. But neither man was happy.”

“Good. Let’s hope they got word about our deal with the Arroyos last night. Did you talk to Hershey?” Tigo’s head hammered against his skull. The lack of sleep and not eating since yesterday was taking hold.

“Sure did. He’s getting the word out on the streets that there’s a new supplier in town.”

“Linc needs to know more than what our initial report states, and he’s not going to be happy with our little obstacles,” Tigo said. “I’ll tell him. She’s my responsibility.”

“And Xavier? Are you working on blame overload with him too?”

Tigo’s head continued to pound.

AUGUST

T
uesday afternoon, Kariss drove home from the FBI office in a rental car, thinking about the day’s events. She’d been reflective and stayed inside her work area, pouring over information about the FBI that was open to the public. Earlier she’d told Tigo that he could drive her home, and she really did appreciate his concern. But she’d already been a burden to him. The two men had been gone most of the day, and she hadn’t really wanted to see them. Her actions had left her ashamed, and she needed to voice an apology befitting their sacrifice.

Everything in her life mirrored yesterday. The people who passed her on the highway were headed toward their own agenda. She wanted to scream at them, tell them that life could instantly spin out of control. Her escape from death had her shaken, and mixed emotions coursed through her.

She refused to cower like a frightened animal.

Every breath was still a prayer, her thoughts tangled in concern for Xavier and thankfulness for her life.

The bright side of today was life flowed through her. Vicki planned to cook chicken cordon bleu, grilled asparagus, and a chocolate mousse. And Kariss had written more of her novel. Her progress reminded her that a writer did her best work from personal pain.

The peaceful veil over the day had been welcome, a balm to her soul in ways she couldn’t explain. Her thoughts focused on her renewed faith … Xavier’s safety … and her gratitude to Tigo and Ryan. She also took note of how she looked at life during times of intense stress. She often became more poetic, her thoughts flowing in symbolism and vivid imagery.

Inside her garage, she breathed in the aroma of dinner, grateful for a loving sister. She entered through the kitchen ready to proclaim Vicki would never be able to leave as long as she cooked like a gourmet chef.

“We’re in here,” Vicki said.

Lately, her sister had begun referring to herself in the plural. “Dinner smells fabulous. I may never let you leave.”

“I could teach you how to cook.”

Kariss heard a male laugh — one whose owner she knew. Her spirits dropped to her toes. “Who’s with you?”

“Wyatt.”

“Vicki, you promised.” She straightened her shoulders and walked into the living room. There on her white sofa sat the man who had ruined her sister’s life — tried to have the mother of his child abort her baby — drinking one of her Diet Cokes. Vicki sat beside him, and the sight infuriated Kariss.

“In defense of your sister, I was persuasive.” He stood.

“Is that so? You can sit, Wyatt.”

He resumed his position beside Vicki. “I wanted to discuss our baby.”

“I thought you’d already stated your feelings about the matter, and the situation was iced.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’ve changed my mind since we last spoke.”

“As if you have a choice.”

Vicki stretched out her arm. “Sis, hear him out. We’ve been talking for the past hour.”

Kariss plopped onto a chair opposite the couple. “Don’t tell me you’re moving in.”

“Ah, no,” he said. “That wouldn’t work.”

“At least we agree on one thing.” She reminded herself of her new call to follow the Lord instead of reacting to the man before her.

Vicki’s eyes pooled. Another common occurrence with her pregnancy. Kariss chose to ease off a bit for her sister’s sake. “Okay.” Kariss pasted on a smile. “Wyatt, what’s going on here?”

“I want to take care of my daughter. Be a part of her life.” He looked sincere, and his body language agreed with his words. But she knew Wyatt had written the book on manipulation.

“How do you plan to do this? Understand that you’ve hurt my sister … repeatedly. I have no trust in anything you say.”

“I feel the same,” Vicki said. “Our failed marriage and the conception of this child has wised me up. Empty words mean nothing to me. I want to be shown.”

Kariss silently cheered Vicki’s insistence.

“That’s why I intend to show you I’m serious. I’ve already seen my attorney and had the papers drawn up so I can take care of the medical costs and provide fifteen hundred dollars a month for child support. In addition, I’ll pay for child care when Vicki returns to work.” He lifted his chin, the stance Kariss remembered. “Until she feels she’s ready to resume her responsibilities, I’ll pay an additional four thousand dollars a month.”

Wyatt had the funds to do exactly what he claimed, but would he follow through? “And this is in writing?”

He pointed to a manila envelope on the glass-topped table. “It’s all right here.”

Kariss peered at her sister then back to Wyatt. “I know this isn’t any of my business, but have you discussed visitation? In point, your live-in?”

“We’re no longer together.”

Vicki tossed him a startled look. “When did this change of heart occur?”

Good question, sis. He’s feeding you garbage again.

“The day after I met you at the restaurant. She said that if I chose to be a father to your baby, she was gone.” He took a drink of the Diet Coke. “I knew the baby was mine. I know Vicki. The idea of being a father appeals to me, but I want to be a good one. I’m not ready for reconciliation or anything like that. Our relationship hit the dust a long time ago.”

“Your fault,” Vicki said. “Some parts of you refused to stay home. What about the child you and Lissa had together?”

His gaze bore into Vicki’s face. “I recently learned
that
baby isn’t mine.”

“Where are you living?”

“At the present, I’m still in the house with Lissa. And something else too.”

Vicki stiffened. “Tell me, Wyatt. As your ex-wife, I have the right to know everything.”

“Lissa had her stepsister follow you. I tried giving her a job at the office, but it didn’t work out. Lissa had no clue her sister would deck Kariss.”

“She followed me more than once.” Kariss tilted her head. “That doesn’t make sense. If Lissa said she hired her stepsister to follow Vicki, why did she try to run me over with a motorcycle? Vicki was nowhere around that time.” She’d call Tigo later on and relay this new bit of information. Someone was lying, and she didn’t trust anyone associated with Wyatt.

Vicki gasped. “When did this happen?”

“Never mind, sis. I’m sure Wyatt was made aware.”

He cleared his throat. “I had no idea she’d become vindictive, and I’m only relaying what Lissa told me.”

Kariss leaned forward. “I have good friends at the FBI, one of whom you’ve already met. Before you leave here today, I want the woman’s name because I’m filing charges.”

A flash of anger swept over his face, but his lips formed a smile. “If it keeps Agent Harris out of my office, then I can give you her name. I mean everything I’ve said to Vicki.”

“I hope so,” Vicki said. “Because if I learn this is another one of your schemes, I’ll see you in court. My baby doesn’t need a father who lies and cheats.”

Kariss considered asking him to wear a wire …

“I want joint custody and the typical visitation rights,” Wyatt said. “Those are outlined in the document.”

“I’ll read every word.” Vicki picked up the envelope.

“I expected no less.”

“Now that you’re here,” Kariss said, “I’d like to talk to you about something that has nothing to do with my sister or the baby.”

Vicki stood, her expanding waistline obvious. “I need to finish dinner. Do you need me?”

She detested the thought of Vicki hearing any of the conversation, but it couldn’t be avoided with the kitchen so close to the living room. “No.” She smiled. “I’m hungry, and I don’t want dinner to burn.”

While Vicki busied herself in the kitchen, Kariss formed her words. “The day Vicki and I met you at the restaurant, there was another man who followed you outside.”

“I remember. Arnold Bates.”

“So you know him?”

Wyatt nodded his head. “I let him know when a good piece of property is for sale. But his interest was in you.”

Kariss sensed her blood pressure rising. “He asked you questions about me?”

“Said you looked familiar, but he couldn’t place where. I told him you were once a TV personality for Channel 5.”

Fear churned her stomach. Tigo had introduced her to Arnold Bates as Miss Jenson the day of the interview. Why did he question Wyatt about something he already knew? “What did you say?”

“Saw no harm in giving him your name. I thought he’d seen you on TV, either as a news anchor or from your books.”

Wyatt may have added another etching to her casket.

W
ednesday morning, Kariss realized she needed to go home. Her mind stayed fixed on the encounter with Cheeky and fear for Xavier. No one had heard from him.

Her concern for Vicki dissipated when the police arrested Lissa’s sister. The bright news was the Arroyos didn’t know where Kariss lived. Neither had they sent the motorcycle mama after her.

Her cell phone rang as she checked email one last time before driving home. The caller didn’t have a familiar number. She hesitated … Looked like a New York number.

“Kariss, this is RuthAnne LeMoy. We haven’t talked in a long time. How are you?”

Her heart took a giant leap. RuthAnne had been her favorite editor. They’d been more than professionals — they’d been friends. “How wonderful to hear your voice.”

“And yours too. Kariss, I’ve changed editorial positions, and I’m now working with suspense novels. We want to build our fiction line to include more women writers in this popular, growing genre. In light of recent events, you were the first person I thought of.”

Maybe she should pinch herself. Two miracles in one week? “I’m working on a suspense based on an FBI cold case here in Houston.”

“Is there a thread of romance? We want to lure those women readers.”

“It’s a romantic suspense.” She hoped RuthAnne couldn’t hear her wild breathing.

“Can I see a synopsis and first chapter? I contacted Meredith, and she indicated she was no longer representing you. Who is representing you?”

“No one.” Talk about a taste of humility.

“We’ll fix that. If you’ll get a proposal to me, I’ll talk to a few agents. I like working with High Profile Literary Agency. What do you think?”

“Don’t they represent several Christian authors?” Only the best in the business…

“They do.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ve recently become a Christian, and I want to keep my writing focus there.”

“Me too! Isn’t it grand how life works out? Once we get the acquisition made, we’ll discuss rebranding you. I’ve already talked to marketing, and we’re prepared to invest dollars in the rebrand. You’ve built quite a social media presence. Nearly fifty thousand Likes on your Facebook author page. Twitter followers and Linked In connections aren’t shabby either.”

“Thanks. Got to keep up with the technology.”

“Your hard work has definitely paid off. I remember your first published book.”

Kariss moaned. “I rewrote it twice.”

“Then it hit the bestsellers list.”

“Thanks to your guidance and wisdom. I’ll email the proposal this afternoon. RuthAnne, your call has made my day.”

“Mine too. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Kariss trembled so much she dropped her phone on the desk with a thud. Her heart beat faster than a butterfly’s wings. Thankfulness smacked her in the gut.

“You okay?” Tigo stuck his head around the doorway.

“Yeah. I’m good.” Since he’d saved her life twice, he’d been sweeter. Couldn’t figure that one out when he should be furious.

Questions bombarded her mind about the weapons’ exchange …

“You look happier than I’ve seen you for a while.”

“Facing death does that to you.” She laughed, and it felt good. “An old editor just called to ask me for a suspense synopsis.”

“I thought you’d sold this book.”

Truth time. “No. I gave my agent the boot when she demanded I continue writing books for women. This … this editor just changed positions, and she’s interested in my story.”

“Congratulations.” He jammed his hands into his pants pockets. “I’m glad for you.”

“One of the reasons I enjoy writing is the idea of communicating through the written word. I like fiction. It works for me.”

“Have you told your parents?”

“I literally just found out. I will in a few minutes.” She laughed. “Now my mother can recommend my books to her friends and not be concerned about the company it’s being publishing by. Do you ever read any fiction?”

“Sorry. Mostly biographies, and I download them on my e-reader. Hey, I’m glad for you. What about celebrating tonight, say an early dinner?”

Was she reading too much into this if she thought it was more than friend to friend? “Sounds good. What about your mother?”

“She’ll be fine in Natalie’s care.” He frowned. “I check on her periodically throughout the day. Run home now and then. Unfortunately, Mom doesn’t know anyone’s there.”

“We don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to. Give us time to talk.”

Talk about what?

His cell rang and broke the moment, if there was a moment being had. Kariss turned her attention back to her laptop and pulled up the proposal for
Shadow Play
, the title she’d chosen for her first romantic suspense novel. The hook was strong. She’d send the chapter, synopsis, marketing plan, and a paragraph about the two protagonists.

“Kariss.”

She lifted her gaze back to Tigo, whose face looked drawn.

“I’m sorry, but we’ll need to reschedule our dinner celebration.”

“No problem. What happened?”

“My mother just passed away. I’m heading home as soon as I inform Linc and Ryan.”

“Would you like some company?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “No need to interrupt your day.”

Kariss closed her laptop. “You shouldn’t go through this alone.”

“I’m okay. I’ve known this was coming. She and I planned her funeral several months ago. And the nurses know what to do.”

“I’m sure they’re excellent and will take care of your mother just like they’ve always done. But nothing prepares us for the reality of death. Let me help.” She pressed a tight smile. “I can follow you.”

He nodded. “Thanks. I live in the Spring area.”

She slipped her computer into its sleeve. She’d never done anything like this before. But she couldn’t imagine going through a parent’s death alone. Maybe he had siblings or other close family. But he hadn’t talked about them. How sad.

On the way to the parking lot, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He appeared locked into his thoughts, grieving in his own way. She’d not interfere with his sorrow. Simply be there, a step forward in her faith.

Cheeky studied the spreadsheet that detailed how each section of his business progressed — the amount of money made, the percentage of increase, and who worked the area. Every day he studied what was happening and if his members were doing their jobs. Only Cheeky and his cousin in Mexico had access to the spreadsheet, which was on a network secured by the best money could buy.

He settled back in his chair and smiled. Paulo’s work proved his loyalty when he’d taken care of eliminating Froggie’s family within four hours. Neat. Clean. Baffled the
policía
, but they recognized the Arroyos’ signature. Soon he’d take his place within his cousin’s cartel. All he needed was to find two people.

His cell rang. Paulo. “What do you have?”

“Bates is the one informing the
policía
when our mules head to the border.”

Cheeky clenched his fists. Bates would pay and so would Masterson. “Good job.”

“I have more. The man who killed three Arroyos? He’s FBI Agent Tigo Harris. I know where he lives.” Paulo laughed. “And he’s friends with that Kariss Walker. Found out where she lives too.”

“Al fin les pesqué.”

“Yes, boss, you’ve caught them. Want me to kill them?”

Cheeky wanted them dead, but he had another plan that took care of all he needed to prove his power in Houston. “I’ll tell you when to pick them up. We’ll have a party.”

Tigo’s emotions felt as if they’d been suspended. He wasn’t one to cry, but shouldn’t he feel like it? Mom no longer endured the suffering, and for that he was grateful … thankful. But he’d miss her — or rather the mother who used to listen and encourage him with endless wisdom.

He glanced in the rearview mirror. Kariss followed close behind. He wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to her trailing after him like he needed someone to hold his hand, except he feared being alone. What a statement. The rogue special agent who burrowed his way undercover to stop crime had confessed to needing another human being. Kariss Walker had become a friend. That knowledge kept him from picking up his phone and telling her he’d changed his mind.

Who else should he call? He’d already phoned the priest and the funeral home. A third cousin lived in Dallas and another in Omaha. A few years earlier, he’d tracked his father to Northern California where he lived with a much younger wife. They had three daughters together. At the time, Tigo didn’t make contact. But out of respect for his mother, he’d inform his father after funeral arrangements were made.

Upon arriving home, Tigo recognized the priest’s car. Natalie would have his mother’s body clean and ready for the funeral home to pick up her body. He’d already instructed Natalie to make sure her pink suit was available … her favorite. Just like she’d requested months ago. Every time he’d left his mother, he kissed her good-bye, but this was the final one. Emotion bubbled inside him, but he’d grieve privately. Another reason why having Kariss here was a good decision. He must remain in control while confirming arrangements with the priest and talking to Natalie. Still, memories of happier times needled at his impassive resolve.

He waited at his truck for Kariss to walk up the driveway.

“Anyone I can call for you?” Her smile helped him to stay calm.

“No thanks. I’ve got it handled.” They walked to the front door, and he gestured for her to step inside.

Once in the foyer that opened into his living area, Kariss turned to him. “Go tend to your mother, and I’ll wait here.”

He let her compassion settle into his bones. “I won’t be too long. Natalie and Father Upchurch are here somewhere.”

“I’m fine.”

Tigo walked the hallway to his mother’s quarters, the part of the house designated as Francisca Harris’s home. She’d overseen the decorating in shades of light green with brown and cream accents and picked out the traditional furniture. The idea was when she recovered, she could enjoy her area in privacy. Her bedroom adjoined a sitting area with a flat-screen TV, a small fridge, a coffeemaker that ground fresh beans, and a microwave. She also had her books, the classics she called friends.

Natalie met him at the bedroom door. The priest had obviously finished because he offered his condolences and left Tigo alone … with his mother. Taking her hand, cold and limp, he sat beside her as he’d done so many times before.

“You really look beautiful, and your face is peaceful. Like I know you are. It’s over, Mom,” he whispered and blinked. “You fought the fight, as you so often said. Now you’re in a better place. I know your faith in God brought you through this and to the finish line.” He stroked her hand. “Thanks for all you did for me. I know I told you that many times, but it bears repeating. Without your help I’d be in prison. Or dead. You successfully knocked the chip off my shoulder and replaced it with good values. Things that make me the man I am today.”

He could almost hear her reminders and swiped at his nose. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll start going to church. Linc’s been asking me for a long time. It’s not Catholic, but you’re the one who said the same God lives in the hearts of all believers who’ve sworn allegiance to Christ. See, I bet you didn’t think I was listening.” He stroked her lifeless hand. “I haven’t forgotten you wanted me to mentor teen boys, ones at risk. I’ll do that too.

“One more thing, that woman I’ve been talking about? She’s headstrong and witty. Pretty too. I can say we’re friends. Not sure where it’s going, but I want to try. She’s made me mad more than once, but when I thought about it, I realized it was because I cared a little. Too many times I wish you’d been able to talk to me about her.”

That’s when the tears poured like a pent-up dam.