Chapter Six
“What do you know about Santiago Suarez?”
After Ten had dropped Aggie off outside the bakery, he’d gone to Jumbles.
The place was empty at the moment. The store got a lot more traffic on the weekends, so it wasn’t unusual.
Ten used the lull in traffic to his advantage. The old man had to know something, Ten was sure of it.
“Why do you want to know?” Mossy stood behind the front counter, paging through a ledger.
“He and I got a piece of business to discuss.”
“What kind?”
“It’s on a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know.”
“And yet you expect me to be an open book with you?”
“I thought you might know a thin’ or two from your years working with the outfit and you’d be willin’ to share it with me.” He tugged at his tie. “Since were colleagues and all.” Asking for favors made him nervous.
Mossy huffed. “Whatcha wanna know?”
“Anythin’ you might consider useful.”
He strolled to the front door and turned the welcome sign over, before switching off the lights. Ten had a feeling the story was a doozy.
“Fine.” He rubbed his jaw, and the whiskers made a raspy, scratching sound. “Look, I’ve done some shitty things in my day, but that boy puts me to shame. If you want my advice, you’ll steer clear of him.”
“I’d love to, but I can’t.”
Ten couldn’t leave those children at the mercy of a monster. If someone had come for him all those years ago, his life might’ve turned out very differently. Ten would do everything in his power to keep those girls from heading down the same path.
He’d never met them, had no connection to the family, but he still felt responsible. Maybe because he had the ability to do something, the skill set necessary to free them. He couldn’t turn his back on Luna and Maria.
If he did, their angelic little faces would haunt him the rest of his days—Ten knew that from experience.
When Ten had been in the Special Forces, they’d attended a slave auction in Libya, where young men and women were sold as farm labor or sex slaves for the equivalent of $400. They’d been in the country chasing down a terrorist who was a buyer. They were under strict orders to observe, not intervene, and it had made him sick.
Sometimes, he had nightmares about that night.
This auction would be much fancier, of course, but equally horrific.
He had no doubt the slaves offered up would be special in some way, attractive women destined for upscale foreign brothels. Or very young children like Luna and Maria who’d probably end up in a private collection. Most likely with a rich pedophile who’d keep them until they “aged out” and then he’d sell them to a new owner. It’s what had happened to him.
Mossy cleared his throat. “A few years back, the outfit had me down in Mexico, searchin’ for a rat.”
The mafia went after people willing to offer information to law enforcement and dealt with them harshly. Ten had taken care of a few of those folks, too.
“Anyway, Santiago was just startin’ out, and evidently he got wind of a police raid on a brothel he owned in Mexico.” Mossy rubbed his hands together as though trying to wash them. “He killed all the girls so they couldn’t testify against him, every single one. The youngest couldn’t have been more than twelve.” He shook his head.
“And they didn’t catch him?”
“No, he’d made his way to San Antonio and stayed there until the heat died down, from what I heard. Besides, nobody gets all worked up about dead hookers.”
Ten hated to admit it, but Mossy had a point. Like it or not, people placed value judgments on how much a person’s life was worth.
“The point of this is, we both have standards, lines we won’t cross, but he ain’t got no rules. And he has connections to law enforcement and drug cartels, so if you go up against him, you might find yourself in either one of their crosshairs.”
“Duly noted.”
“Since Santiago’s so well-connected, he’ll be two steps ahead of you. Chances are, somebody already tipped him off about you and the lady detective.”
Ten sighed. So much for the element of surprise.
“Wait. How do you know about her?”
“You rolled up to Main Street and had breakfast with an actual livin’, breathin’ female. You didn’t think it would be first-rate gossip?”
Ten groaned. “Anythin’ else?”
“Watch your back.”
“I’m always cautious.”
“Does Byron know what you’re up to?”
“No, he doesn’t, and I’d like to keep this quiet.” Even if Byron had decided to be a benevolent overlord, he didn’t like drawing attention to the outfit, and this situation could come around to bite them in the ass.
He raised his hands. “Fine by me, but all the blowback is on you, if he figures out what you’re up to. Leave me out of it.”
“You got yourself a deal. Any idea where I could find him?”
He shrugged. “Santiago’s secretive, and doesn’t stick to a routine. Paranoid as hell too. And, needless to say, he’d give you a run for your money on bein’ creepy.”
Ten didn’t take offense. After all, he’d cultivated the reputation on purpose, but he was disappointed, they’d have to hunt Santiago down the hard way.
“Fuck it all.”
“Dammit, boy, you know how I feel about cursin’.” He held out the jar, jingling the change. “Pay up.”
Sighing, Ten tossed a quarter in the curse jar.
Mossy added another coin. “See what you did. You’re makin’ me swear too.”
“I didn’t make you do a damn thing.”
Mossy’s eyes almost bugged out of his head.
“I know, I know.” After chucking another quarter into the jar, Ten headed for the door.
Mossy’s voice slowed him down. “You take care of yourself now, you hear?”
“I didn’t know you cared,” Ten drawled, turning to face the old mobster.
“I don’t, but I like you better than Santiago.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it, and by all means, if you get the chance, take him out.”
“I aim to.” Ten had a bullet with the bastard’s name written all over it.
“Now get on outta here, I got work to do.” He shooed Ten away.
“Yup, I do too.”
Wetwork, my favorite kind of job.
***
“Hey mom, I brought you lilacs, your favorite.”
It was a bit after 5 o’clock in the afternoon, and she’d stopped by Sheltered Acres to see her mother. Aggie had been dropping by to visit Melinda almost every afternoon. It sounded selfish, but she missed sharing her day with her.
She knelt down and placed the flowers at the base. Aggie associated the soft scent of them with her mother. At her childhood home, there’d been a large lilac bush right outside of Melinda’s room and every spring, she’d gathered a big bouquet of them to put on her nightstand.
Aggie had memories of lying in bed beside Melinda while she read her a story and she’d pinch one of the tiny purple blooms from the flowers, pressing it against her nose.
Aggie kissed her palm and laid it against her mother’s name, and then absently pulled out some weeds. The groundskeepers mowed around the graves, but they didn’t use a Weed Wacker, to keep the edges around the headstone clean. There was an overgrowth of grass and dandelions threatening to overwhelm the monument.
“I miss you so damn much.” Melinda hadn’t even made it to her fiftieth birthday. It just wasn’t fair.
“We should have had decades together.” Her chest felt tight like she couldn’t quite breathe. “I should’ve been able to bring my hypothetical children and husband over to your house for Sunday suppers and holidays.”
Instead, I’m alone in the world, and you’re gone.
Aggie sighed. “Well, I met a man, mom. He’s handsome, smart…” Scary? And a murderer. Somehow, she doubted Melinda would approve. “Anyway, I don’t think you’d like him, but I do. I’ll say one thing, he’s not boring.”
Melinda didn’t give men much credit anyhow. Aggie’s dad had bailed when Melinda started getting sick. It had been just the two of them for years. Aggie no longer spoke to him, and he hadn’t reached out to her either.
On the one hand, she knew dealing with a chronic, terminal illness was difficult. Still, he’d had an obligation to Melinda and to Aggie, and yet he’d turned his back when they’d needed him most.
An incoming call startled her.
When Aggie checked her cell, a call wasn’t coming in. Then she noticed a gray flip phone at the base of the headstone. Her name was written on it in magic marker.
What the actual fuck? Who plants a phone at a graveyard?
You know who.
With a trembling hand, Aggie picked it up, and for a moment she hesitated. The number was listed as unknown, which didn’t bode well. Did she really want to answer it and plunge further down this rabbit hole?
I don’t have a choice anymore. She’d started this dance and Aggie had to finish it.
“Hello?” She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Hello, Aggie Byrd.” The voice was smooth and deep with a slight accent.
Her mouth went dry. “And you must be Santiago.”
“Routines are risky. If someone can anticipate your movements, he might be able to get the jump on you.” The male caller didn’t confirm his identity, but Aggie knew who it was.
Heart pounding, Aggie turned around in a tight circle, scanning the area surrounding her. There were a few mourners visiting other graves, but no one paid her any attention.
“Kudos to you. Leavin’ a phone at my mother’s cemetery is creative. Not to mention disrespectful.”
It also had the desired effect—panic swelled in her chest. I’m exposed here, out in the open, not to mention emotionally compromised. She stood in the middle of a field, and there was no defendable position.
“Well, what can I say? I wanted to talk to you, on my terms of course, pollito.”
She recognized the endearment he’d used. Aggie had heard the term once in a movie—it was Spanish for “little chicken.”
“And what do you want?”
Aggie took off for her silver sedan. Once inside, she’d put the pedal to the metal and get out of there.
“Like I said, to talk. Consider this a courtesy call, an opportunity to back away from this situation unharmed.”
Aggie briefly contemplated texting Polly and asking her to run a trace on this phone call, but Aggie was speaking on a burner cell phone, and the number had come up as unlisted. It’s not like she could get a warrant for the records either. Santiago wasn’t a fool, and he’d most likely covered his tracks.
“And what situation is that?” Aggie started her car and took off down the street, phone pressed to her ear, balanced against her shoulder. It wasn’t the safest position to drive in, but she couldn’t stay in the parking lot.
“Don’t play dumb. I hear you’ve been poking around in business that doesn’t concern you.”
“And who told you?”
He chuckled a throaty, smug sound. “I have eyes and ears all over this state.” Clearly, he didn’t consider her a threat. “Why are you getting involved anyway? You have delusions of being an FBI agent?”
“Nope, I’m a private investigator and proud of it, but you already knew that.”
“Yes, I know exactly where your office is and what you or your friend did to Diego.”
She bit the inside of her cheek.
“Your friend is well-connected and therefore untouchable, but you aren’t. No one has your back.”
“Yes, well I follow a case wherever it takes me, and I didn’t do anythin’ to Diego.” It was the truth, but she doubted it would set her free.
“Even if it leads you into an impossible situation? One you can’t hope to win?”
“What can I say? I have a conscience, although I can see where you would be confused.”
He chuckled. “You have a sharp tongue. I can’t decide, are you brave? Or stupid? I think it’s the last one. Did you know Diego was more than an employee?”
That got her attention. Had the thug been telling them the truth?
“Oh?”
“Yes, he’s my cousin. I think givin’ you a way out is generous on my part, given the circumstances.”
“Just out of curiosity, why would you give me a pass?” She didn’t understand.
“Diego was family and I loved him dearly.”
Bullshit.
She doubted Santiago felt anything for his cousin. This was probably more about power or his own street cred than family loyalty. Maintaining his position meant making an example of people who betrayed or defied Santiago. If thugs feared his retribution, they’d stay in line.
“But he had a way of creating problems for my organization. I don’t like complications. They interfere with my revenue stream.”
“Speakin’ of solving problems, you could give me those children back, and we can end this tonight.” Aggie didn’t think he’d go for it, but she might as well make the offer anyway.
“See, that’s not how it works.”
“Oh, and I suppose you’re going to enlighten me.”
“Consider this a preview of your future. If you don’t leave this alone, you’re going to have an accident. You, or someone you hold dear.”
Goosebumps erupted all over her skin, but she kept it together.
“I don’t respond well to threats.”
“You didn’t receive one, I was merely making a prediction.”
A slimy bastard like Santiago knew how to manipulate the law. He’d come up to the very edge without stepping over the line. The man made her sick.
“By the way, I forgot to give you my condolences on your loss. I’m sorry about your mother’s death. I know what it’s like to miss someone.”
“Thank you,” she grated out.
“I wouldn’t worry about it though, if you keep this up, you’ll be seeing her real soon.”
And then he hung up.
***
“We’ll get him.”
“Sure.” Although Aggie was beginning to doubt it.
Hours later, Aggie was at Poison Fruit sipping her third glass of wine. Her hands had finally stopped shaking.
She’d had dinner with Ten, but Aggie didn’t have much of an appetite. He’d made plates for them, chicken salads adorned with fruit and poppy seed dressing, but the food had tasted like ashes in her mouth. And she’d been distracted the entire time.
It was nearly eight in the evening, and the place was clearing out. Evidently, he closed early on weekdays. She’d walked Ten through every detail of the conversation with Santiago.
She’d also called and warned Polly in case Santiago contacted her. Aggie had done a quick sweep of her office and house, to make sure Santiago hadn’t left any other surprises for her. Thankfully, she hadn’t found anything.
Aggie had also warned Sofia and Alejandro to stay with friends. Santiago definitely knew where they were and since they wouldn’t go to the police, it left the couple even more vulnerable.
Ten pocketed the cell phone. “I’ll have Vick run a trace on it. More than likely we’ll get nothin’ out of it though.”
“Who’s Vick?”
“Victoria Hale, she’s a tech expert I work with.”
“And she’s a mobster?” It sounded sexist, but Aggie had never heard of a female Mafioso.
He frowned. “Not really.”
“What does that even mean? And why do you avoid questions?” Aggie was more irritable than usual.
Like every time she saw him, Ten was dressed in another suit, and his white button-down dress shirt gleamed in the candlelight. He still wore those blasted shades.
Ten shrugged. “Habit I guess.”
He reminded her of an old Winston Churchill quote. While the prime minister was discussing Russia, she thought it suited Ten better— he’s definitely “a mystery, wrapped in a riddle, inside an enigma.”
She counted to twenty silently. “And you’re absolutely positive Santiago didn’t contact you?”
“It’s been radio silence.”
“Good. Okay.” Aggie took another gulp of wine.
She was the easiest target, so coming after her made sense. While Aggie was just one person, Ten had a group of heavily armed, ruthless men backing him up, and one woman apparently.
“Don’t worry, we’ll track him down. I’m reachin’ out to my contacts, and sooner or later, we’ll get a lead.”
“I hope so.”
“I still think you should take me up on my offer.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard.” Earlier, he’d suggested one of his mobster buddies could stay with her, to keep her safe.
Aggie wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of a criminal hanging out in her living room. And yet if Ten had offered to be her protector, she might’ve taken him up on it.
Because I’m a sexed-up hypocrite, apparently.
She couldn’t think about this situation anymore tonight. Aggie needed to calm down, ratcheting the panic up another notch wouldn’t help matters.
Aggie sighed. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m losin’ it. I need to change the subject.”
At this moment, Aggie needed a distraction more than ever. The man had hidden depths, of that she was certain, and she was eager to plumb the darkness.
He sat back in his chair. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Everything.”
Ten seemed disconcerted by her curiosity.
“Let’s start with something easy. When’s your birthday?”
A long uncomfortable silence passed.
“I don’t know.”
It was basic information. How could he not know his own date of birth?
“How is that possible?”
He shrugged. “I just don’t, and I never celebrate my birthday.”
“Wow. You really don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”
“No.” He scratched his chin. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
“Okay, then tell me anythin’ you want.”
“Anything?”
Aggie nodded.
Ten thought it over. “A long time ago, I yearned to travel. I used to have wanderlust somethin’ fierce.”
“And now you don’t?”
“No, not anymore. Instead, I want roots, a foundation for my life. It’s something I haven’t had before.”
So his childhood must’ve been chaotic. Was he brought up in foster care? Aggie wanted to know more, but her questions bothered him, so she held off.
“Although I’d still like to go on vacation.”
“Like where?”
Ten leaned closer. “Have you ever been to the Smoky Mountains?”
“No, but I’ve seen pictures.”
“Me, too. I haven’t gone there yet, but one day I’ll see them with my own two eyes.”
She got the sense this was really important to him, a milestone of sorts.
When she scanned the room again, Aggie noted everyone had gone. She hadn’t even noticed them file out, probably because she had such an intense focus on Ten. And Aggie liked being alone with Ten more than she cared to admit.
She’d literally watched him murder someone, and yet Aggie felt safe around him. A lot of women liked bad boys, but this was ridiculous.
Aggie nodded to the piano across the room. “I heard you play the other night. You’re very good.”
“Thank you. Do you know how to play?”
“No, dancin’ is my only artistic ability. What kind of music do you prefer?”
“I favor the classics. Beethoven, especially.”
A man after her own heart. She, too, had a love for traditional music.
“Will you play something for me?” Aggie wanted to watch his long, lean fingers at work, while imagining his hands roving over her body.
He inclined his head. “I’ll make you a deal, I’ll play if you dance, Giselle.”
Aggie loved the nickname he’d given her, but she was unsure about performing in front of him, knowingly at least.
“I don’t—”
“Please? I love watchin’ you move.”
“You do?” Aggie was caught off guard by the compliment.
“Yes, I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He bowed his head after saying it.
Her breath caught.
How could she say no to such a request?
While Ten sat at the piano, Aggie moved to the center of the room, near the fountain, where she had space to work.
Moonlight filtered through the stained glass windows, giving everything a spectral illumination.
She recognized the haunting strains of Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven.
Aggie took off her shoes, closed her eyes and swayed to the music. She wished she’d brought her ballet slippers with her. Aggie spun in slow circles, doing an adagio, a slow sequence of movements, treading softly on her feet. This wasn’t a swift rhythm leading up to a grande jeté. No, this tune was suited to pirouette and plié with subtle footwork.
When it was over, she found herself standing in the center of the floor, breathing heavily. Ten had stopped playing. Instead he watched her with an unfathomable expression.
Through no will of her own, she drifted over to Ten, drawn to him. Somehow, she ended up sitting next to him on the bench. They were both panting, and she had a feeling it had nothing to do with exertion.
Neither one of them spoke. And maybe it was better that way.
Before she could stay her hand, Aggie reached out and stroked his face, cupped his cheek. A muscle worked in his jaw, before he subsided. The next thing she knew, his head lolled in her hand, eyes sliding closed.
She exhaled sharply. Aggie knew Ten kept himself under wraps, didn’t trust other people. This gesture had to mean something.
Aggie leaned forward and pressed her cheek to his. When he didn’t recoil, she rubbed her nose against his, a prelude to a kiss. And then rested her forehead against him.
Ten gave a small, anguished moan.
She couldn’t seem to get close enough. Aggie wanted to kiss him, lose herself in the oblivion of his arms, but she wouldn’t push him. If Ten wanted this, it had to be on his own terms.
And then he stood, clearing his throat. “It’s gettin’ late, you should be headin’ home. I’ll swing by tomorrow if I have any news about the phone.”