“I know it’s late, but are you busy? Can I come over?”
“Look,” I sighed. “We talked about this, remember? I like you, and you’re a good friend, but just because he’s gone doesn’t mean I’m ready to see anyone else right now.”
Or ever.
“Yes, I know that, Eden. You’ve made that perfectly clear on multiple occasions,” he retorted dryly. “Besides, the last thing I plan to do is get on the wrong side of Val Carrera. Been there, done that, don’t ever plan on it again.”
My spine stiffened at the mention of his name. “We’re not together, Brody. You know that.”
“So you keep saying.” He paused. “Does he know that? All I’ll say is I feel sorry for the first guy you try to have a real relationship with, Eden. Emilio Reyes is still here running the stateside operations, you know. Plus, Carrera has eyes and ears everywhere. If you think he doesn’t have them on you, you’re nuts.”
I’d heard enough. “You have twenty minutes. If you’re not here, I’m going to bed.” Moving the phone to disconnect the call, I pressed it back to my ear and added, “Alone.” Then I hung up.
* * *
“Thanks for seeing me.” Walking past me, Brody ran a hand through his dirty blond hair and sat on the couch, bouncing his knees up and down in his habitual nervous gesture.
“Please,” I offered, after the fact. “Come in.”
Brody shot me a hardened look, with his eyes void of amusement. “Eden, this is serious.”
Scrubbing my hands down my face, I took a seat across from him and tucked my legs underneath me. “Fine, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?”
“You have to promise to let me finish before you flip out,” he muttered under his breath. After I nodded and grew more and more suspicious of his behavior, he stood up and paced in front of me. “I’ve been searching for Marisol Muñoz.”
“What?”
“You agreed to let me finish first.”
“That was before I knew this had to do with the fucking Muñoz Cartel! Brody, have you lost your mind? This is like tap dancing on a land mine!”
Closing the distance between us, he wrapped his fingers around my shoulders. “In digging for information, I found a faked birth certificate, Cherry. Marisol Muñoz doesn’t exist.”
“What are you saying?” I whispered, afraid to hear the rest.
“Not only was there never arealbirth certificate for Marisol Muñoz, but there isn’t a death certificate on record for Adriana Carrera.”
“No…” Shaking my head, I tried to pull away from his hold.
“You mentioned a baby…Ana. What happened to her?”
“No one ever found my sister’s body. I can’t think about that, Eden. I never have.”
“Marisol Muñoz had to have a kidney transplant when she was fourteen. Her kidneys shut down because of a life-long battle with juvenile diabetes. The Muñoz family ran into a problem when none of her blood relatives were a match as a donor.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, Brody,” I argued. “That happens all the time in families.”
“Eden, both Esteban and his wife have type A blood. That means genetically they could only produce children with type A or type O blood.” Pausing, he glanced at his hands before locking me in an intense stare. “Marisol Muñoz’s blood type is AB. Adriana Carrera was born with type 1 juvenile diabetes. I have a friend in the Mexican Embassy. I had them run a comparison of the blood samples on record, on account of the unsolved murder of Adriana Carrera.”
The gold flecks in her eyes. The thick dark hair. The refusal to degrade women.
I twisted harder. “Brody, no...”
“Adriana Carrera’s blood type was AB. They matched, Edie. Marisol Muñoz isn’t Manuel’s sister. She’s Val’s.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
VAL
