“Pretty friggin’ sure, kid. I had some guys staked out around the airstrip and along the routes from there to her folks’ house, and we’re not seeing anything.” There’s a pause as papers shuffle on the other end of the line. “I got guys staking out her pop’s main building in the city, and nobody’s there. I got people in that hoity toity yacht club town where the house is, down by the beaches and such, scoping tourist traps where they might try to blend in, and nothing. The only folks we’ve seen are the same guys from the festival, who are still overseas.” He exhales loudly. “Either these vatos are slicker than anyone I’ve ever encountered, or they’re just not very good at their job. Based on our observations that indicate they’re dumber than a box of rocks, I’m gonna go with the latter. Or they’ve lost interest in her and moved on to other opportunities to hit Reyes where it hurts the most. Doesn’t he have other kids? Doesn’t he have ason? In my experience, folks like this typically go after a male.”
I shake my head, raking my hand through my hair. “Every threat Ernesto ever received was that they would come after his first born, which is Isla. The warningIreceived was that they were specifically targetingher.” I pause and reflexively pull the phone away from my ear as an idea comes to me. “Can you trace text messages from unknown numbers? Should I have my phone sent to you?”
He exhales again, this time long enough that it morphs into a series of wheezing coughs at the end. “That’s not what I do, kid. I keep eyes on people. I can’t do friggin’ forensics on your friggin’ phone. You might wanna just go to the police for that.”
“I alreadytold you,” I snap, “I can’t go to the police forthis. I’m not interested in taking down an entirecartel. I cannot involve myself in an international incident, especially since the American feds might consider her collateral damage in order to take down a bigger target. That is what involving the police would result in. I don’t give a fuck about the cartel. I give a fuck about making sure she’s out of harm’s way.”
“Well?”Vinnie wheezes another cough. “From the looks of it, I think she’s outta harm’s way. I have no evidence of her being followed, I see nobody in the vicinity of her house, and you’ve got more security detail set up around that place than Fort friggin’ Knox. You’ve done pretty much everything you can do. Just keep your guys on her, and I’ll keep my guys watching everything.”
A fireball of indignation surges through my veins, and I grip the phone so hard I’m shocked it doesn’t crack in my hand. “For whatI paid you, I need more thantough luck, kid. I was told that you are the best at what you do, and I demand more than this. If you can’t trace messages, why don’t you locate the old woman who initially contacted me with information about the threat?”
“That’snotwhat I fuckin’ do, Sterling.”
I clench my jaw. “Itshould be. If all you do iskeep eyes on people, why don’t you put some eyes on her, and thenspeak to her?”
Vinnie makes a gurgling noise in the back of his throat, and I hear the clicking of a keyboard on the other end. After a series of curses under his breath, he clips, “Fine. Did Reyes ever give you the old broad’s name?”
“Guadalupe de Varga,” I rattle off on pure reflex. “He doesn’t know where she is, but his guess would be somewhere near Tuape, which is in central Sonora.”
“Ah for fuck’s sake,” he mumbles.
“Need I remind you how muchmoneyI paid you?”
“If one of my guys ends up skinned by drug lords in the-middle-of-nowhere, Mexico, you’re gonna owe metwicethat.”
The line disconnects, and I lower the phone from my ear, turning it in my clammy hand while I continue to pace the length of my office.
Despite everythingappearingto be just fine, I don’t like this one bit. After speaking to Isla a number of days ago and learning what she heard from her friend Elise, the feeling she has about all of it seems to have infected me, too. In an attempt to soothe my nerves, I pause at the crystal decanter of scotch on my desk and pour myself a tall glass, then sit on the sofa facing the fireplace.
After staring at the licking flames for long enough that the scotch gives me a heady buzz, I reflexively dial Ernesto.
“You had better not be calling me with bad news,jovencito,” Ernesto grumbles. “This divorce has already complicated enough.”
“You have my apologies for having to adjust our arrangement,” I start to say, purely as a means to placate him, “however, it was in Isla’s best interest, and Parliament has every intention to maintain our original—”
“It wasnotin Isla’s best interest,” he growls. “What part of this was in her best interest? The fact that she’s no longer secure behind the stone walls of a fortress in a foreign country, or the fact that she’s so depressed that she’s barely eating?”
My words briefly dry up, and my brow pulls low. “Is she?”
“Yes. And I have to hear about it from my wife. I do not understand why you suddenly changed your mind about all of this.”
Clearly, Isla hasn’t informed her parents of the deeper complexities of everything that’s happened over the past couple of months, so I’m certainly not going to.
“She wasn’t happy,” I say simply. “After she lost the baby, she just wanted to be with her—”
“I do notcareif she isn’thappy,” he snaps. “I care if she isalive. You taking her to Corwick was a means to ensure that remains the case. And eventually, the hush-hush of this divorce is going to find its way into the tabloids, and then we’ll have to deal with that. I do not need that kind of complication for my family or my business. My intention in building a media corporation was to disseminate news, not become the subject of it.”
I know Ernesto loves his daughter. All of his behavior the entire time I’ve known him makes that obvious. But he’s never been a very sympathetic man, always ruled with an iron fist, and never gave much thought to how anyone felt about what he knew was best. And after everything that has happened, I suddenly have very little tolerance for his lack of empathy.
“Forgive me, Ernesto, but I honestly couldn’t care less about your company’s reputation,” I retort, absently inspecting my fingernails before slipping my hand in my pocket. “Myintention is still ensuring Isla’s well-being. Despite our history, that will always be the case, and to that end, I need information from you.”
“I beg your pardon.” He snorts incredulously before his tone morphs to a severe, icy growl. “You will notdemandinformation—”
“Who was the man she killed in Mexico?” I insert. “Was he in any way connected to the cartel?”
The line goes silent for so long that I have to pull the phone away and check to see if the call is still connected. Placing it to my ear again, I clip, “Ernesto. Who was he?”
A scoff explodes from him. “He wasnobody. Pardon myspeechlessness, but I do not like what you are insinuating with such a question.”
