Anointed (Vanished Book 3)

by Michael Arches

  He took a long look at Viola, which men rarely did. “It could be, she’s turned you into La Llorona.”

  “What? A crybaby?”

  He shook his head. “She’s a ghost who’s legendary in Central America. Basically, long ago, a wife was jealous of her husband’s lover. To punish him, she threw their two young boys into a river, drowning them. Then, she went crazy with grief, died, and became a ghost who kills for no good reason. You look exactly like her, with the snowy skin and long white hair.”

  Viola couldn’t see the point. “Weird. Why would she go to this much trouble?”

  “You’ll have to ask her. Growing up, I heard lots of stories about the Weeping Lady who killed people. Even saw a movie once about her.”

  There was so much Viola didn’t understand about Central American culture. “So, I’ll punish those who screwed the family?”

  He screwed up his face for a moment in thought and nodded. “Yeah, I think…probably. But don’t tell anybody I said so.”

  Viola shrugged. He was the first person here who’d given her any inside information, even though this business about the Weeping Lady sounded ridiculous. The bottom line remained, Carlotta was up to something, and Jesus couldn’t help. “My lips are sealed.”

  -o-o-o-

  Once Jesus finished setting up the computer, Viola focused on the two folders Carlotta had given her. She studied them until the number soaked into her consciousness. One confusing thing was the code they were using to refer to specific drugs.

  It hit her that as soon as she started providing accounting advice for the cartel, she’d be just as dirty as they were. But there wasn’t any way out, except suicide. And unless she was going to stab herself with a dull letter opener, that option wasn’t viable.

  Viola knocked on the door to Carlotta’s office and waited to be invited in. “Pardon, Señora, but tomorrow, who will be taking inventory at the pottery business?”

  “You, naturally.”

  That was what Viola was afraid of. “Don’t you have someone you trust who knows the business? Like Diego?”

  “I considered that, but I’d like one person to be fully responsible for the audit. That way, if someone tries to cheat me again, I know who should be held accountable.”

  That was also what Viola was afraid of. “I’ve never used illegal drugs, not even pot. I won’t know what I’m looking at.”

  “Let me show you. Write nothing down.” She took a plastic bottle about three inches high out of her desk and spread the contents in front of her. “Let’s go through our products, one by one. These are prescription painkillers. Very popular. We have a test that will confirm these pills are genuine.”

  -o-o-o-

  It took over an hour for Carlotta to explain the ins and outs of synthetic opiates, heroin, cocaine, meth, hallucinogens, and a drug that wasn’t even illegal anymore, marijuana. According to the jefa, illegal pot remained popular because legal stuff was too expensive. Carlotta also gave her several test kits to check to make sure various substances weren’t just flour or otherwise fake.

  After Viola had prepared as much as she could for her first audit, she began reviewing the financials for the gentlemen’s club. The cartel used the same accounting software as her firm did to run its business.

  Just as Viola thought she understood the financials, her tormentor opened Viola’s door. “Time for lunch.”

  “Oh, Señora, I’m not hungry.”

  The woman looked a bit dejected. “Understand, we don’t eat dinner until late. And usually, we eat together like a family, whether someone is hungry or not. I will not force-feed you, but this is a good opportunity for me to introduce you to the rest of my staff. Follow me.”

  Viola hurried to keep up. Her thin white robe flapped open, even though she wrapped it around herself as tightly as she could before tying the belt. At least, the robe reached to her knees.

  Carlotta led her to a long, rectangular room that contained a dining room table large enough to seat twenty. Most of the seats were occupied by Hispanics chattering with each other. As soon as they spotted the jefa, they stood and bowed.

  Within a moment, they were back to teasing and joking with each other. To Viola’s surprise, Carlotta joined in then introduced her new hire. They all told Viola how much they appreciated her taking the job, even though they were spewing total bullshit. But they acted sincere, and that was all that seemed to matter to the boss.

  Viola followed their example and prayed that her kowtowing would be enough to keep her from getting hit again.

  She met fourteen people, but she was so nervous that she promptly forgot most of their names. The only ones she remembered were a French chef named Sean Laurent and Heidi Berg, a slim, shapely blonde with an electric smile.

  Carlotta motioned for Viola to sit on one side of the blonde, and Carlotta sat on the other. As soon as the jefa sat down, Hispanic servants in black uniforms began bringing out dishes piled high with food. Some were traditional Mexican dishes, but there were a variety of French entrées as well, including one of Viola’s personal favorites, coq au vin.

  For the most part, everyone ignored Viola. Absolutely nobody asked about her too-white skin and snowy hair. Maybe they were used to strange ghosts dropping by for lunch.

  Viola’s mind careened off on various crazy thoughts about how quickly her life had unraveled. But Heidi said in a soft, Texas accent, “I know you must be extremely frustrated and royally pissed, but I admire your quiet dignity. I swear on my momma’s grave—hand on Bible.”

  Viola wasn’t sure what to make of that. At least, someone didn’t hate her immediately.

  Heidi was great at small talk, and she spoke to Viola in English while making comments to everyone else in perfect Spanish. Jesus also made a point of chatting with Viola. In particular, he asked her about things he could do after hours in the southern suburbs. It turned out, he had traveled from the Casa Santiago in Houston for only a day or two to transition the accounting files from Selena’s computer to Viola’s.

  Although her stomach was tied up in knots, Viola tried to eat something. And she tried to understand the personal dynamics of the people surrounding her. To her surprise, most of Carlotta’s staff seemed relaxed and even happy. Was she the only prisoner in the group?

  And Viola figured out one other thing—Heidi and Carlotta were much more than friends. They touched each other casually and occasionally finished each other’s sentences. Which was perfectly fine. Nobody else around the table showed any annoyance at the two grown women besotted with each other. Heidi was a dazzling beauty.

  Viola’s mom was a conservative Catholic, and she wouldn’t approve. The thinking of her raised a more important problem. How is Mom going to react to losing her only daughter? And how will she stay out of trouble without me being constantly on call to help her?

  Chapter 6

  Central Library, Denver

  Athena parked in a loading zone in front of the library and checked to see whether Viola’s phone had been turned on. Yes, hot damn!

  Someone was making a call that pinged off a tower near Coors Field. The ballpark was less than a mile northwest.

  She called Beau. “Where are you? I made it to the main library, but Viola’s phone just lit up near the ballpark.”

  “I’m close, mon chou. Park in the garage across the street from the library, and we’ll take my car from there. Don’t forget your gizmo.”

  He picked her up on Thirteenth Avenue, and he drove past the corner where he’d found the bike computer. Athena felt a pang of sadness. She couldn’t help but wonder how shocked and upset Viola had been when she was grabbed.

  Although it wasn’t rush hour, the traffic in Denver was still a mess. Viola worried that the phone call might end before they could get there.

  When they reached Wynkoop and 20th, Athena pointed out the cell tower that Viola’s phone was still connected to. Her excitement began to build. The hunt was on, and
their prey was close by.

  Beau parked along the street. Athena turned on her tracking device and gave it to him. She preferred to have both hands free for her hiking poles when possible.

  The sensor immediately showed two bars, a relatively weak signal. He spun in a circle, and when he aimed southwest, the device showed three bars. She and Beau headed southwest on Wynkoop. A few people stared at her, and one woman with a toddler gave her a thumbs up.

  “Maybe I should handle this part alone,” her boyfriend said. “Let’s face it, ducks waddle faster than you can go these days.”

  If she hadn’t been hot on a suspect’s trail, she would’ve smacked him with a pole. “Put a cork in it, or I might shoot you. Hormones, you know.”

  He was smart enough to shut up.

  They walked toward the Sixteenth Street Mall, and the number of bars showing on the tracker steadily increased. Moments later, Athena started looking around to find someone using a phone.

  Unfortunately, four people in plain view were talking into their cells. And dozens more calls might be taking place in the buildings that surrounded them. The device kept them pointed farther down Wynkoop.

  She and Beau continued past Union Station to the Sixteenth Street pedestrian mall. Across the way, a guy in his late teens stepped out of the Tattered Cover Bookstore. The tracking device vibrated and displayed ten bars.

  “Don’t look now,” Beau whispered, “but I’m pretty sure that guy with the green baseball cap is talking on the phone we’re looking for.”

  “Great, I’ll keep the gizmo. You mosey on over to him.” Beau was a real cop with a gun and a badge. She was more than happy to let him do all the dangerous stuff.

  He snuck up on a deeply tanned male Caucasian with long, stringy blonde hair. The guy might’ve been a street person because he definitely needed a good scrubbing. He slurped on a large soft drink and talked loudly enough to be heard twenty feet away. He was complaining about an old guy in the bookstore.

  After crossing Wynkoop St., the talker waited on a corner for one of the free mall shuttles to come by. Beau strolled up beside him and smiled. “Bonjour, monsieur. I’m special agent Beauregard Boudreau with the FBI. Could I have a moment of your time?”

  The guy’s eyes opened wide. He glanced around, as though suddenly realizing he might need an escape plan. Without saying goodbye, the guy put the phone in one of his jean’s back pockets. “I didn’t do nothin’.”

  Famous last words. Athena remained ten feet away, close enough to hear, but not so close that she might end up in the middle of a fight.

  “Sorry I interrupted your call, mon ami,” Beau said, laying on the Cajun as thick as an old cypress tree, “but actually I’m looking for a particular cellphone. It might be the one you have in your pocket.”

  The guy didn’t respond, so Beau dialed a number with his cell. Sure enough, the guy’s phone rang.

  “Beaucoup crazy. Did you know that particular phone was involved in a serious crime this morning? All true. I’m just dying to hear why you have it.”

  The guy reached for the device, as though he was surprised to see it. “This? I just found it laying on the ground.”

  Beau snickered. “Mon ami, here’s where things could get uncomfortable for you. The woman who owns that phone was kidnapped. You appear to have been mixed up in that attack. In fact, you are our only suspect.”

  Tears welled in the fool’s eyes. He didn’t appear to be a hardened criminal, just a bum.

  Instead of pushing the guy up against a wall and cuffing him, Beau said, “I need the whole truth from you this very minute, mon ami. No bullshit. Either help me out, or you’re going to have a very tough day.”

  “Hold it!” the guy yelled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I just found this thing. I swear.”

  “I ain’t got all day, idiot!” Beau yelled back. “Where and when?”

  The teenager sucked in a couple of deep breaths. His voice stuttered. “O-on the sidewalk, outside of the Paladin a couple of h-hours ago. The battery was almost dead. I charged it up. Then, I just needed to make a couple calls before I turned it in to the police. I swear!”

  The Feeb threw up his hands like that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “What else did you notice outside the Paladin when you picked up the phone?”

  “Nothing, it’s a bar. Nothing going on that early. Just this thing laying against the building there…oh, wait, a few feet away. A smashed iPad. Could still be there.”

  Beau spent another ten minutes grilling the guy but didn’t get anything more. Tears flowed. The guy didn’t have the street smarts or the wariness to be a hardened criminal.

  Beau confirmed the teenager’s identity, his lack of a rap sheet, and his current address. Then, he cut the punk loose, sealed the phone in an evidence bag, and called Laura. After relaying what they’d done, he hung up.

  Athena asked, “Will she check the bar for the iPad?”

  He nodded. “She’s on her way already. When she finishes at the bar, she’ll track us down to pick up this phone. The kidnappers must’ve tossed the electronics so we couldn’t trace them.”

  Athena was disappointed. They weren’t making much progress in finding Viola. “I doubt Laura will have much luck pulling prints off of the phone, not after that idiot smeared his greasy paws all over it.”

  “True, but she might have better luck with the iPad. The fool swears he didn’t touch it, and hopefully nobody else did either. So, you got any more bright ideas about how we can find that poor woman?”

  “Not yet,” Athena said, “but I’m working on it. And I’ll need to get something to eat. Leo is ravenous. That’s when he kicks my kidneys. Uh!”

  -o-o-o-

  Casa Santiago, near Louviers

  Viola’s lunch seemed to drag on endlessly, but eventually Carlotta whispered in Heidi’s ear then disappeared. After the jefa left, the others drifted away. Viola wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do next.

  Heidi took her hand. “Honey, let’s get you some decent clothes.”

  Viola remembered the work waiting for her in her office. “I probably should get back. Carlotta is already too annoyed at me.”

  The blonde tittered. “Don’t be silly. I know that gal’s moods, and she’s as happy as a kid with a new pony. All you gotta do is listen to her a little better. I’m sure you two will get along jus’ great. Look at me, I just do what she wants, and she treats me like a goddess. Showers me with presents.”

  Carlotta had acted enthralled. Was that because Heidi had made a point of agreeing with everybody and laughing at their silly jokes? She reminded Viola of a girl at her Catholic high school who’d been elected senior prom queen. Chasity hadn’t been much of a student, but she’d been blessed by God with good looks and a bubbly personality. Those two heavenly gifts had made her the most popular girl at St. Vincent’s.

  “I’m trying to make the jefa happy,” Viola said as Heidi dragged her down a hallway that led away from the offices. Eventually, they reached a set of stairs straight out of Tara in Gone with the Wind.

  “Relax, girl. Carlotta told me to get you squared away and to find you something classier than a spa robe to wear. We’re about the same size, except maybe in the chest, and I’ve got a ton of clothes gettin’ a little too tight on me. Should be perfect for you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, if you were any skinnier, they’d check you into a clinic.”

  A peal of laughter burst from her lips. “My paleo diet keeps me from puttin’ on too much flab, but I can’t seem to lose a single danged ounce.”

  Viola couldn’t tell whether the blonde was pulling her leg. “Hell, I’d eat bark if it gave me your figure.”

  Heidi snickered again, and it felt good for Viola to hear someone was happy with her.

  The blonde pulled her up the stairs. “Lordy, I can tell. We’re gonna get along like two peas in a pod.”

  Heidi took Viola to a bed
room decorated entirely in pink. The wall opposite the bed had a high shelf holding a dozen dolls, each dressed in various pink outfits. None of the windows had bars, and the lacy curtains were pulled open, showing off a part of the ranch Viola hadn't seen before.

  The deep green lawn stretched a hundred yards from a slate patio below to a thick beltway of trees. The house had to be situated on the east side of a creek or river. More men with guns stood around, and that ugly reminder gave Viola a shiver. To the left, a large, weathered, red barn looked like it’d been built decades ago.

  “Does the family keep horses here?” Viola asked. “I saw a few earlier, but maybe they belong to a neighbor.”

  Heidi stood next to her. “Carlotta and I both love horses, but ours don’t live in the barn. It’s been converted into quarters for the thugs and their whores. Take my word for it, you don’t want to get anywhere near those degenerates.”

  Heidi pointed to the right side of the window. “That small building over there is the stable. Carlotta owns four horses. One of her sweetest gifts to me was a beautiful white Arabian mare, Karima. I can’t wait ‘til we get a chance to ride together.”

  Heidi obviously lived in an entirely different world from Viola’s. The blonde hadn’t been kidnapped, and for her, Casa Santiago was an idyllic retreat. But for Viola, it was a gilded prison with an evil jailor.

  “You’re lucky,” Viola said. “I’ve never ridden a horse or even seen one up close. My mom worked as a department store clerk, and my dad had a meth problem. He took off before I started kindergarten.”

  Tears welled in Heidi’s eyes. Viola consoled her, and they shared a hug.

  When she could speak again, the blonde said, “This is a heck of a mess for you, isn’t it? Here I am, head over heels in love with the queen. It took me a while to figure out she hadn’t gotten rich selling pottery and herbal supplements. That was three years ago, and I could’ve left. But Carlotta was so danged good to me. I stayed put and got pulled into the money grubbing, just like everybody else. That door,” she pointed, “goes straight to her suite. I use this room mostly as a closet.”