She always blushed when he complimented her. “Thank you. And you…you remind me of a sexy James Bond.”
Miguel smiled. She referred to his black pants, white dress shirt that he’d left partially unbuttoned, and black patent leather shoes. “Wait until you see me in my tux for our wedding.” He grew sober. “We were supposed to meet with my priest today. Father Dominguez. I never had the chance to ask you if you’d like to get married in an old Spanish mission in the hills above Laguna Beach.”
Her lovely eyes grew soft and dewy. “Yes. I’d love that. Especially if it means so much to you.”
Miguel retrieved Julia’s cell phone from his back pocket. “I’ll send a text to let Father Dominguez know that our case has unexpectedly taken us to Mexico.” He sent the message and handed the phone to her.
“Keep it with you for now, Miguel.” She slipped her hand into his. “My aunt, Ileana, invited us to breakfast in the family’s main dining room. She explained that Catholics usually abstain from eating at least an hour before Mass, so I guess we’re okay since the service is later. We follow this corridor and turn left.”
As they ambled toward their destination, Miguel and Julia admired the architecture and oil paintings on the walls. Every few feet there were wrought iron sconces with lights in them. Plenty of potted plants added to the vibrant atmosphere. When they reached the dining room, they paused at the entrance and stared in amazement.
The long, rectangular, rough-hewn but polished table was built for more than twenty-five people. It reminded Miguel of the sort of table one might find in the banquet hall of a medieval castle. Floor to ceiling windows provided an uninhibited view of the courtyard, perfectly designed and landscaped now that Miguel could see it clearly in the morning sunshine. A well-crafted sideboard held breakfast: scrambled eggs, tortillas, Mexican sausage, sweet breads, coffee, milk, and hot chocolate. The familiar dishes and the sweet and spicy aromas reminded Miguel of time spent with his relatives. He had to remind himself, though, that he was in the middle of a dangerous drug cartel, and these people weren’t his relatives.
But theywereJulia’s.
Some members of the Escobar family were seated at the table where they spoke animatedly and laughed while they ate. Others were filling their plates at the sideboard and helping theyounger children before guiding them to their places without spilling any food. Dressed in their Sunday best, they appeared like a normal family preparing to attend church. Miguel knew their lives centered around religion. A crucifix hung in his room. Many of the oil paintings he and Julia had admired depicted biblical scenes and images.
A religious and ruthless cartel. The paradox was almost funny.
A little boy detached himself from a group of kids and launched himself at Miguel, hugging his waist. Manny, by Julia’s description.
“Hola, Señor Miguel. I’m Manny Olivera. Can we play the guitar after Mass?”
Miguel knelt so he was on eye level with the boy. “We sure can, Manny.”
His face lit with delight. “Gracias. Cousin Julia says you’re the greatest guitar player of all time. Even better than Carlos Santana!”
“Manny! You mustn’t tell lies like that,” Julia chided her young cousin.
“You mean you don’t think Señor Miguel is that good?” Manny asked slyly.
“Well, to be honest. I’ve never heard him play.”
“You will today. And I’ll bet he’s the greatest guitar player of all time!”
After giving them quick hugs, Manny skipped away to rejoin his other cousins.
Miguel straightened up and saw General Escobar staring at him. They nodded an acknowledgement of each other.
At the table, Miguel and Julia were introduced to her other three living uncles, their wives, the two aunts she had yet to meet, and their husbands. Miguel memorized their names andfaces, so he could be prepared for anything that might lay ahead. He was, after all, in the lions’ den.
Miguel sat next to Julia’s aunt Ileana, and she put him most at ease as they conversed in Spanish. She expressed her gratitude that Julio’s only child was alive and well, so beautiful and so lucky to have found a good man. When Miguel countered that he was the lucky one, Ileana let out a tinkling laugh like Julia’s and declared that he was a smitten man. He didn’t disagree.
After breakfast, the Escobar siblings and their spouses gathered their numerous younger children, ranging in ages from late teens to toddlers, and they left the family’s private wing of the compound en masse. They trekked toward the mountains a good distance behind the compound. From here Miguel couldn’t see the chapel’s spire, if it even had one. In the foothills, they followed a cement path that led to a small rectangular church with lovely stained-glass windows set in adobe bricks. There wasn’t a paved parking lot, so one could only reach the church on foot. Miguel surmised it was built specifically for the Escobars.
A priest, dressed simply in black with the traditional white collar that indicated his holy position, met them at the entrance. His kind eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled and greeted each member of the family by name. Manny proudly introduced Julia, his new cousin, and Señor Miguel, the greatest guitar player of all time. The priest chuckled and shook their hands.
They sat with Ileana and her family at Manny’s insistence. Alfredo slipped into an empty spot next to Julia and murmured loud enough for Miguel to hear, “You were right, cousin. Axalia is bat-shit crazy. She tried to work some voodoo magic on me.”
“Stay away from her, Al. She and Axis are masters of manipulation.”
“Sí. A relationship with her wouldnotbe interesting after all.”
During Mass, Miguel kept his head bowed as he prayed. Mostly, he prayed God would forgive him and Julia for what they intended to do. He also prayed God would bless their union and protect them. At the end of the service, the burden he carried felt somewhat lighter.
When they returned to the compound, the women set about preparing the afternoon meal while the men tended to business. Large cuts of pork had been smoking since before breakfast. A savory blend of apples and spices wafted through the air. The children ran off in different directions to change into their play clothes and started a soccer game in an open field. Miguel noticed ATVs were easily accessible. A fact he filed away for future reference. Some of the older kids assisted the adults in food preparation.
Manny appeared with his guitar, and he and Miguel found a quiet spot in the courtyard. Miguel patiently instructed the boy on how to form major and minor chords he hadn’t yet been taught. Manny learned quickly, and Miguel praised his talent. When he performed an entire song without a single mistake, Julia, who’d been watching them, clapped her hands.
