Chapter Twelve
One more day.
Emanuel left the oca. The blinding sun greeted him, and he ran his hand down his face. In less than twenty-four hours he was supposed to give her away to her dad in Manaus. For that to happen, he’d scheduled the helicopter to take them out of the jungle quicker—the same bird that brought the doctor to check on Tacira the day before. Thankfully, she was recovering well.
Emanuel had planned everything. In case Lancaster didn’t bring Raul with him, Emanuel would use the team he’d hired to ensure Raul was wherever Lancaster said he was first before handing him his daughter.
He cleared his throat once, twice, but the damn pocket of sand lodged in his throat didn’t move. You’re saying good-bye to Erika. Are you ready?
Of course he wasn’t. The days spent with her reminded him of the upside of romantic relationships—the partnership, the fun, the talking. Those elements also represented his downfall if he grabbed the bait. What if he married a woman, someone like her, and made her life miserable because he was never around? Though with a woman like Erika, he’d want to be around.
Chances are she won’t want me around. Why would she? He’d always be the reminder of the perfect little life she thought she had and that he ruined.
“Senhor,” Ibaque called out, running up to him. “I have news.”
“What is it?”
Ibaque got to him, scratching his head. “I went into town to sell some handmade items. Raul Souza, the man you mentioned…is dead.”
His blood chilled in his veins. “Dead?”
“Yes. They found his body by accident this morning in the abandoned site. Apparently, a clean-up crew was there, and they dug up the body.”
“Shit.” Emanuel got on his phone, desperate to look for more information. He typed Raul’s name into a Google search, and in a second the news showed up on his feed. He skimmed the headlines. Body found at the site believed to be Raul Souza’s, the missing engineer. Body must have been stuck since the storm. Authorities are searching for his family to identify the deceased.
How timely a dead body showed up. Was that Lancaster’s ironic way of giving him Raul and fulfilling his part of the bargain? Emanuel saw red. He curled his fingers into a fist so hard his nails bit into his skin. “Where’s Erika?”
“She went with the women to wash some clothes by the spring.”
“Okay.”
With no time to waste, Emanuel charged to the bank of water. The journey would usually take him thirty minutes, but he cut it in half. He’d need to share the news with the Souzas, which would be heartbreaking. He’d failed them—he’d promised to find their son, and yet Lancaster once again got to the finish line faster.
Think, think. He’d get a great criminal lawyer involved and see if he could find any holes in the story Lancaster’s company fabricated. But that would take time, and he couldn’t keep Erika for much longer. Unless…he stopped in his tracks when he saw her helping the Itopi women put out their fabrics to dry. Unless he asked for Erika’s help to expose Lancaster once and for all.
Erika used her hands to gesture something to a couple of women who laughed at her attempt to communicate. She chuckled, too, and looked in his direction. The moment she saw him, she composed herself, still smiling but less relaxed. “Everything okay?” she asked, walking up to him. “You’re serious.”
“We need to talk.” He grasped her elbow and steered her away from everyone, his fingers turning a practical touch into an unwelcome caress. “It’s important.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, wiping her hands on her dress. The same yellow sundress he’d bought for her in Manaus.
His jaw clenched. “Raul is dead.”
She took a step back and touched the tree trunk to her left as if for support. “How do you know?”
Emanuel drew in a breath. “Ibaque went into town and found out. Raul’s body was found at the housing community site. A team went there to clean up the area and they conveniently found his body buried by debris.” The idea became more ridiculous after saying it out loud.
Sadness flickered in her eyes, and she touched her neck. “How awful. I’m sorry. Do they know for how long he’s been buried in there?”
He popped his knuckles. “The police are working on it. It seems it’s been there for a while.”
The irony was they had visited the place where Raul had been. Question was…for how long? Had Silas killed Raul immediately after he went missing? Did he at least try to bribe and negotiate with the engineer? None of it changed the fact Silas needed to pay. “What could have happened?”
“I don’t have much information yet, but from what I gather, they are trying to spin it like it was an accident when that storm hit. That was about the same time he disappeared.”
Erika folded her arms. “Have you talked to his family?” she said in a low voice.
“Not yet, but it’s a matter of time, and I’d rather they hear it from me,” he said. Before talking to them, he wanted to make sure she was on board with his new strategy to expose her father and bring the Souzas some sort of closure. Having buried his parents, Emanuel knew first hand the pain of losing a family member.
“Of course.”
Why was she so careful? Why did she skirt around the subject? “Your father did it. He killed Raul,” he said, his tone colder than he would have intended.
She frowned and dropped her arms to her side. For a moment, she watched him, her eyes locked on his, and he tried to read their message. “My father may have done a lot of bad things, but according to what you just told me, Raul died in the storm because of the poor weather conditions. I guess my father indirectly had something to do with it, of course—”
“No.” He cut her off. “That’s a lie. Raul knew about the outdated material. Why would he choose to visit the location when a storm was about to hit? Doesn’t seem smart. He was never seen after he left the meeting with your father. When his parents inquired immediately after, your father’s secretary lied and said Raul left the building and waved for a cab. When we asked them for security tapes as evidence, they refused to help. But it’s okay because I have an emergency plan until we can dig up more dirt.” Literally. He’d called Bruno and asked him to get private detectives flown to the area immediately. Hell, they needed to get out of there ASAP and execute the new idea.
“What plan?”
“We’re going to Manaus. I’ll call your father and tell him he can have you. I’ll drop you off. However, I want you to tape a conversation with him where he admits to his mistakes,” he said.
She shook her head. “He won’t do that. If he never told me before, why would he start now?”
Because before you didn’t know who he was. And now you do. He rubbed the back of his neck trying to alleviate some of the kinks. The past few days challenged him in every way—physically, mentally and—he glanced at her—emotionally. “You’re not the same naive girl I captured in Boston. You’ve learned of your father’s mistakes, and you use your wits to your advantage.”
“How?”
“Be straight with him. Tell him you know what happened. He may get defensive or combative at first, but you’ll get it from him. Act like it’s no big deal. That you understand his reasons.”
She rolled her eyes. “So I’m to become an Oscar-winning actress overnight and fool him?” She shifted her weight from one foot to another, staring at the ground. “I doubt a tape recorded without his knowledge will hold up in court in the States.”
Leonardo would help him. The one reason why he hadn’t asked him yet was because his brother followed rules too much to help him in the beginning. He’d probably try to talk some sense into Emanuel. However, now the deed was done, he knew he could count on his brother for the legal aspect. “That’s not my point. A tape can go viral, and it’ll be the first step to bring him down. It’ll buy us time. After he admits to it, there will be interest from authorities to look into the accusations, especially now with Raul’s death. Your father’s career is done after this.”
She lifted her face, and tears brimmed in her eyes. The vein in her long, soft neck pulsed, and his fingers itched to touch it, but instead he shoved his hands in his pockets. They had to come up with a plan and not let emotions get in the way. “And so will mine,” she said bitterly.
“Wasn’t that the outcome we expected?” She was a smart girl with skills. She’d find another job. Hell, with the amount of money she probably had, she didn’t need to work if she didn’t want to. Why did she care?
“Just because it’s what we expected, what you expected, I’m supposed to go along with your first suggestion without catching a breath?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“That’s what’s happening. Can’t we think of a better way to transition things? I can go back to the U.S., look into the charity, and see if there’s embezzlement. See if my father is connected to it. And I can look into the case. I mean, we can build a case. Don’t forget, I will be on the inside. It’ll be easier for me to have access to documents and information.”
“You really think your father will let you have access to shit he hid from you all these years?” He massaged his throbbing temples, but a regular aspirin wouldn’t help him. What he needed was for her to get a reality check, and quick.
“He won’t, but now I know what to look for.”
“That solution isn’t good enough for me. It’ll take a long time, and there are no guarantees.” What if she returned to her old life, away from him, and just decided that helping him caused too many inconveniences? “Unless…you want a way out.” The thought left a sour taste in his mouth. How easy would it be for her to pretend none of this ever happened, that “they” never happened.
A bug landed on her shoulder, and she slapped it without delay. “What? No. I mean it. I can help.”
Help by returning to New York and keeping me posted? Did she think he was some kind of idiot? “Your way of helping certainly benefits you. You’re set free. Your father doesn’t have to sweat his end of the bargain. The subject of Raul is closed, and life goes on as usual.”
She stepped toward him, her expression sobering. “You really think I’d do that? After all we’ve been through?” she asked in a voice so sad he didn’t know if he should hug her or continue the conversation. I can’t beat around the bush. We need to talk things through. She has to show me what kind of person she is.
Blood was thicker than water. He’d stolen to help his family in the past. Would she keep quiet or try to lessen her father’s responsibility and downplay his role in Raul’s death? “I have no guarantees otherwise. I’d have to put my trust and those people’s trust in you. You’re asking a lot from me.”
She shook her head, walking in a small circle. “I shouldn’t have to ask, but you know what, Emanuel? I’m sick of the way you see things. You’re so cynical. You make up your mind and that’s it.”
“Are you still talking about your father or us?”
She halted, snarling at him. Her face held a serious expression he hadn’t seen before. “What us? According to you, there isn’t any us. Because you want to make all the decisions alone. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” she said, raising her voice. “When you were a kid and you robbed all those people, you were in control. You didn’t ask anyone for guidance. You took charge, whether you were making the right decision or not. Just like you are right now.”
He clamped his lips for a second. His heartbeat reverberated in his damn ears, every part of his body rigid and tense. He’d told her about a part of his life that weakened him to this very day, and now she was rubbing it in his face just because she could. Why did he act so recklessly? Trusting her had been a mistake. God knows what she’d do with that information. “Count on you to bring that up. I must have been stupid to tell you about my past.”
She drew back, a tad defensive. “I’m merely drawing a comparison.”
“Which will always come up. Whether you admit it or not, that’s a side of me you don’t like. You’re ashamed. Doesn’t matter how much money I’ve made. I’m not a blue blood with a spotless rap sheet.” He threw the words at her like rocks.
“You know what you are? You’re fucking scared. You use this risk-taker rogue approach to life when it benefits you, but when it doesn’t, you balk. We could have been your biggest risk,” she said, pointing at her chest.
We. She finally owned up to it. She’d told him she wasn’t one of those girls with romantic aspirations and dreams of ever afters. She’d lied to him. Worse than that, after all the evidence he gave her about her father, she still didn’t believe Emanuel. She needed to return, to check papers and numbers. Would she even do it or was that an excuse to get out? “Don’t you get it? You are. I’ve made a commitment to myself I almost betrayed because of you. We’re done, Erika. I’m taking you to a hotel in Manaus, and you can call your father then.” You win this battle, he almost added, though the way she looked at him hinted they were both losing.
…
“Are you okay, madam?” The muscly bodyguard asked as they entered the elevator of one of the most exclusive buildings in New York City.
Erika simply nodded her head. She reached for the wad of tissue creased in her palm and wiped her nose. The day before, Emanuel had set her free. He barely said a word after their discussion, and found an Itopi man to guide her out of the jungle where a chauffeured car he had arranged waited for her to take her to Manaus. She’d spent a good length of time in the company of strangers. And now this tall, dark, and handsome man who stood next to her wearing a clean cut suit was another stranger whose help she needed until she got to her father.
She’d already talked to him briefly on the phone after her release. But now she’d see him in person. A chilly sensation rolled into her stomach. She jammed the tissue in her pocket.
A part of her had died when she left Emanuel. He hadn’t wanted to hear her out, to follow her plan, to open his mind for her suggestion. The worst thing was he didn’t believe her. Even if they had stayed together, what relationship could they ever build based on doubt with him always thinking she’d do something to hurt his plans? And with her always feeling unheard and like her opinion didn’t matter? A future wasn’t in the cards for them—and that hurt her more than just a little.
Never had she cared for a man so much.
The elevator stopped at the top floor, and she blinked out of her pondering. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t believed her. She would do what was right anyhow—without his help. She’d stopped at a specialty store and put on the wires before the meeting. Taping her father would be a start, but she’d wait until she had paperwork to back up her accusations. Only then would releasing the tape make sense.
“This way, madam,” said the bodyguard, striding on the marble tiled foyer.
She entered, her black Louboutin heels clinking on the polished floor. Her stomach felt like an alien movie pregnancy, about to burst at any moment, exposing all her anxiety and nerves. She smoothed her hand over her tan pantsuit. Thankfully, her straight posture and smooth ponytail projected another image of her. Looks matter, because her father didn’t appreciate mess. Except in business.
Apprehension knotted her stomach, and she touched her midsection in hopes of willing the agony away. The wire on her bra bothered her, but at least it was nicely hidden under her silk black blouse.
“Dad?” she called to him, improperly though. A man deserving of such a title didn’t lie to his daughter and certainly didn’t use her for his own dirty schemes.
“Erika. You look well,” Silas said, and gave her a brief hug. Their bodies barely touched, yet she couldn’t think of another intimate moment they’d shared since, well, forever.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“Come, we have much to talk about.”
The bodyguard nodded at them, and her father opened the door to the office. “Have a seat,” he said, and she chose the chair in front of the desk, hoping he’d pick his regular seat at the desk so her mic would capture their whole conversation.
I hope I am doing this right. What if it doesn’t work? A shadow of guilt flickered. No matter what, he was her father, the man her mother loved, and she was about to betray him. Betray her mom. Did her mom know about all this side businesses, or was she too blinded by it all?
Erika crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, and crossed them again. Creating a plan was easy—executing a plot against her own flesh and blood, a tad harder. This seemed foolproof in my mind.
Silas pulled out the leather swivel chair and sat in front of her. “Did that man do anything to you?”
Nothing I didn’t want him to. Except when he’d kicked her out of his life. “No.”
Her father gave her a close-lipped smile, then picked a paperweight from the stack of folders and clenched it like it was a stress ball. “Good. Well, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
Sorry for the inconvenience. They were a moment away from him changing the subject. Did he expect her to brush off a kidnapping and not question anything? What kind of stupid idiot have I been all these years? “Did you know Emanuel wanted to kidnap you? Was that why you didn’t go to the Business Man Award and hired extra security for me?”
“I never imagined you would actually be kidnapped, but a man of my caliber can’t be too careful. I didn’t go because someone hacked my virtual calendar for that week, and I didn’t want to be vulnerable. Never for one moment did I know it was Emanuel Duarte. Some nerve that young man has.” He snorted, tossing the paperweight on the dark wood desk.
She cleared her throat. “What happened to Raul Souza?”
“Who?” He scratched his chin. “Oh, the engineer. He must have been there when the storm hit. A shame. They said the debris covered his body, and because those people vanished from the land, no one knew what happened to him.” He stood and walked up to the wet bar. She followed him with her eyes, as her father poured himself a tumbler of scotch, then one for her.
“Interesting. Isn’t it funny how they found him in a timely manner?” She drummed her fingers on her lap.
He took a gulp of his drink, a tad too fast. “I suppose. Didn’t give it much thought. My main worry was to get you back. The folks at the charity, family and friends, have been calling me nonstop.”
She surged to her feet and stretched her hand to grab the glass he handed her. “What did you tell them?”
“I said you were recovering from cosmetic surgery.”
She took a swig of scotch. Not her favorite choice of alcohol, but once the liquid burned down her throat, a temporary relief poured over her. Very temporary. “Cosmetic surgery,” she parroted him, looking at nowhere in particular.
“Yes.” He chuckled, pointing at her chest area. “You may want to use some padded bras or something from now on. Honestly, it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here, and life goes on as planned. The PR person will meet with you later and advise you on how to return to public life.” He sat on the sofa, a self-congratulatory smile on his face, and loosened his tie. “It’ll be like it never happened.”
The casual way he dealt with Raul’s death and the entire situation made her heart skip a beat. When it resumed its pace, it pounded fiercely. Everything that happened was nothing but an inconvenience. No wonder Emanuel got so frustrated. “What about those people? They lost their houses.”
He waved her off. “We’ll offer them a settlement. The legal team is on it.”
“Why didn’t you offer one before?” Because it would have meant he’d made a mistake, and her father hated owning up to them. Maybe his lawyer had advised him to offer a settlement now that the subject resurfaced, to make sure the story would die after a happy note in the press. His name wouldn’t be associated with the accidental death in one of the housing sites he managed. His foundation wouldn’t suffer any backlash because he was making it up to the people who lost their homes—at least financially.
He removed a piece of lint from his suit, visibly annoyed. Furrowing his brows, he locked his gaze with hers. “Why do you care? Erika, this is business. It was deemed an act of nature. We didn’t have to do anything. Honestly, why do you think I waste so much time visiting with government officials and international politicians? For the scotch and handshaking?”
She eyed the contents of the tumbler again, her fingers trembling so much the scotch nearly splashed her outfit. Keep it together, Erika. After all, she knew before this conversation who her father was. Why was she so shaken up? Because it’s happening right in front of me. He’s a criminal. But I’m not like him. And there’s only one way to prove it. “Do you ever wonder what mom would say? When you do something like that?”
“Your mother was a kind soul, but not a business person. She didn’t make tough decisions.”
She took a drink of the scotch, this one burning less than the other. She placed the glass on his desk and leaned against it. “Since when do tough decisions imply murder?” She tried her best to keep judgment out of her voice.
Her father shifted on the sofa. “Since never. I merely meant business decisions. As I stated, Raul died in the storm. Now, go back to your life. This nightmare is over. It’ll be like it never happened.”
Like it never happened. The words filled her like a burning in her chest. “How about Emanuel?”
“I’ll stay true to my word. I won’t charge him for kidnapping you, and you won’t have to worry about that stupid man anymore. He ought to find better things to do.”
She flexed and unflexed her fingers. How to do this? She sucked in a breath, then let the air out slowly as if she had all the time in the world.
“You seem nervous.” He leaned to the edge of the sofa. “What’s wrong?” He reached for his drink.
“I am nervous. Listen, I have to deal with a lot. I know who you are. You can deny all you want and lie like you have all these years. It’s okay.” She sat on the coffee table in front of him, stared deep into his eyes, and hoped hers exuded honesty. “You always wanted to make a good life for us. I’m not judging you. I’m your heiress, but if you don’t own up to what you’ve done, how can I continue your work? Why don’t you teach me what you really know?”
He frowned and glanced around the office in search of something. Someone. Then, his eyes locked in on hers again. “I’ve always thought you were a lot like your mother, Erika. A good soul. Someone who excelled at fancy events and fundraisers, but who didn’t have grit to deal with real business.”
Her lids felt warm and gummy. “You never gave me a chance. You never showed me.”
“I didn’t think you cared to find out.”
“Well, Mom is gone, and I want the truth. I can work with the truth. I just can’t work with lies.” She grabbed his hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “I know you got rid of Raul.”
He lifted his chin. “How?”
She swallowed. “Don’t you think Emanuel told me? You’re a smart man. You must have had your reasons.”
He disengaged from her and rose to his feet. She moved out of his way, and he stared at the beautiful Central Park view out the window. Shaking his head, he coughed. “Erika—”
“It’s okay. Just tell me so we can truly put this behind us.”
Silas gave her a slow nod and closed his eyes. She squared her shoulders, telling herself if she kept sweating, the wire in her mid section would slip off. I should have gone with my bra.
“Raul Souza was hired because he was cheap and no one knew him. When he told his boss about the materials, his boss ignored him. Then he emailed me, and I deleted his email. When I went to the area to take some pictures for a photo op, he pulled me aside and explained.”
“And you couldn’t persuade him with money?”
“I tried. Money shows people’s true colors, and that man was plain dumb.”
“Why didn’t you fire him?” she asked.
“Because he was a liability. He could go to any newspaper and tell them. Hell, these days with the freaking internet people can say whatever they want.”
“Maybe no one would have believed him,” she said casually, as if they were discussing a dinner menu instead of the reasons why a life should have been spared.
Her father poured himself more scotch. “He would open a can of worms. With the current economic situation in South America, the exchange rate benefits me, and I like the market there. If he opened his big mouth, I would lose investors. Worse, I could lose bids on pieces of lands I’ve had my eyes on for years. So I had it taken care of.”
“It was smart of you to make it look like a storm casualty.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” She took one final shot of scotch, and this time the smoking sensation didn’t just roll down her throat and stomach; her whole body heated with anger and intent. Maybe that was the last great lesson her father would teach her: do what you have to do, no matter the consequences. Even if the one behind bars would be her own flesh and blood. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself otherwise.