“I’m happy to go along and ask about these charges.” Actually, Viola was thrilled to have any excuse to leave Casa Santiago, but it seemed doubtful that Carlotta would want her to go.
-o-o-o-
Athena’s ranch, near Ward, Colorado
The last time Athena had left her home, she hadn’t expected to be gone for more than a few days. But now, she realized this might be the last time she ever saw the place. That meant cleaning out all of her electronic gear and stashing it in the back of the ten-year-old Ford sedan Beau had bought for cash. The body was banged up, but the engine still ran without smoking.
As soon as they returned to the motel, Beau’s new burn phone beeped. He listened for a few minutes without saying much and hung up.
“Things are happening at the cartel’s casa,” Beau said. “They apparently fought off a small army this morning. By the time it was light enough for the DEA’s drone to fly over the compound, the shooting had ended. But they got good photos of the Santiago men collecting at least forty bodies, mostly south of the main house. Their social media posts claim a pre-dawn attack by other cartels failed miserably.”
Athena wasn’t sure what that meant but it sounded like Carlotta and Pablo were stronger than ever. “These assholes are like zombies. No matter what anybody does to them, they keep getting stronger.”
“We’re not gonna take them down anytime soon, that’s for sure,” Beau said, “but I still hope to get back Viola Hawkins.”
Their best bet was probably to monitor the cartel’s social media to find Viola away from the compound.
-o-o-o-
Casa Santiago
As usual, Heidi got her way. But before Viola could leave the compound, Maria needed to return Viola’s face to normal, or close to it. Maria removed the makeup she’d applied earlier and used a spray-on tan to hide how pale Viola’s skin was.
Heidi drove her Porsche Cayenne, and Viola sat in the back. Carlotta also sent along a baldheaded thug named Hector. His neck was as wide as his head, and his arms bulged like a champion weightlifter. He filled the front passenger seat and didn’t speak a word.
Viola half-listened as Heidi ranted on and on about being betrayed. To test her skills as a consoler, Viola kept uttering sympathetic sounds, but it was hard to get upset when one criminal got gypped by another.
When the rant ended, Viola asked, “How stupid is this lady? Only a lunatic would try to cheat a mob boss.”
Heidi let out an exasperated sigh. “Get real! Nobody working for me knows a drug cartel owns the business.”
“So, what’re you planning to do,” Viola asked, “other than firing her ass?”
Hector snickered, a low rumbling sound.
It sent a chill down Viola’s spine. “Wait, you’re planning to kill her over a few thousand bucks?”
“It’s not up to me. Carlotta is really pissed,” Heidi said. “What happens to that cheating bitch will depend on how much of the money she can pay to make amends. But one thing’s for danged sure, this is going to be the worst day of her life.”
Viola’s mind flashed back to the pottery warehouse. Without hesitating, Diego had killed three people in cold blood, tortured one of them. Where the hell are the cops who should be locking these monsters up?
-o-o-o-
Pinnacle Jewelry, Park Meadows Mall
A pretty brunette at a desk in the back office looked up with a start as Heidi led Viola and Hector in the back door.
“Hey, Heidi, aren’t you off today?” she asked.
Instead of replying, the blonde dashed forward and punched the brunette in the nose. “Trudy, you bitch, why’re you using the business to pay your rent?”
Trudy twisted away and staggered backward. She was stunned for a moment then yelled, “Wait, you said I could because I was moving so much stock.”
Heidi shrieked. “Liar! I want all that money back times three!”
“No! Wait, that’d be over ten grand. I don’t have that kind of money.”
Three times the actual amount embezzled would be more like fifteen grand, but Viola stayed out of the argument. The two women screamed at each other for a few minutes until Trudy yelled, “I’m sorry. I misunderstood. I don’t even have five hundred bucks in the bank. You can’t take what I don’t have.”
Heidi punched Trudy again and scratched her face.
Hector spoke in Spanish. “Heidi, give me a few minutes with Trudy. I’m sure we can work something out.”
Viola absolutely did not want to see what was going to happen next, and she had no way to stop Hector. Heidi probably felt the same because she grabbed Viola’s hand and pulled her into the front of the store.
A young couple was mooning over each other and trying to pick out an engagement ring. The salesclerk and Heidi were full of happy comments and best wishes for their future life.
Viola moved over to the opposite side of the store. She couldn’t help but wonder how badly Hector was hurting that poor idiot Trudy in the back. Only once, did Trudy scream. None of the others appeared to have noticed.
-o-o-o-
Mount Evans Motel, Idaho Springs
It didn’t take long for Athena to find the cartel’s bizarre remake of Viola on Facebook. Her new Facebook page, dubbed Santa Muerte in Denver, already had eighteen thousand likes and friend requests. That fan page had been set up by a young Hispanic woman named Maria Ramos.
Athena couldn’t tell whether Maria had any personal relationship with Viola. The teen may have just loved the folk religion. Athena hacked into Maria’s account profile and learned that she lived in Las Vegas, or at least, she had when her original account had been set up. Another dead end.
But Maria’s pictures and gushing prose made up for it. She also posted a new video of Viola from earlier that morning. The embedded metadata told Athena that the video had been recorded at the casa. It seemed likely Viola had slept there overnight and survived the assault.
Athena interrupted Beau who was on the phone again with some DEA contact. “I know where you can find Viola.”
After promising to call whoever was on the other end of the line back, he asked, “Where?”
“Casa Santiago.”
He rubbed his chin. “Good to know, but the FBI will not try to take another fortified compound, not after the epic disaster near Waco. The best information we have now is that the Santiago cartel fought off three other drug gangs and killed at least fifty attackers. They aren’t going to do the same to us.”
Athena had expected her news to make him happy, but obviously not. “You work for the most powerful fucking government in the history of the world. We have a million-man army. Stop whining and go get the poor woman.”
He shook his head. “I hate to say it, but finding her was the easy part. Congrats on that, but military campaigns aren’t the FBI’s thing anymore.”
Chapter 14
Pinnacle Jewelry, Lone Tree, Colorado
Fifteen minutes after Viola and Heidi abandoned the back office, Hector and Trudy walked out of the back room. Her face was ashen, except where Heidi had punched and scratched her. The blood was mostly gone. Trudy’s lips trembled, and her eyes were downcast and bloodshot. A pattern of red marks on her neck revealed where Hector must have choked her. Her pants were misbuttoned, probably because of her distress after Hector had raped her. Despite her argumentative attitude before, she didn’t accuse him of anything.
He looked exactly the same, except for his creepy grin.
He motioned Trudy toward Heidi.
She stepped forward and bowed her head. “I’m really, really sorry for what I did. I want to make amends by giving you my car. It’s worth twenty grand.”
Heidi blew out a deep breath. Her shoulders relaxed. “That might work. What kind of car is it?”
“It’s a three-year-old Mustang. My dad bought it for me when I graduated from college.”
“I offered her a chance to pay off her debt by w
orking for Pablo,” Hector said, “but she prefers to give the jefa the car. It should be more than enough.”
“Fair enough,” Heidi said. “I hope you hurt her.”
The bastard’s voice dripped with sarcasm as his grin grew wider. “Not at all. I’m sure she enjoyed our moments together as much as I did.”
The woman clenched her jaw but didn’t contradict him.
Heidi turned her back on Trudy. “Get her out of my sight.”
Then she turned to Viola. “Sorry, but I’m going to have to stay here and manage the store. Hector will drive you back to the casa.”
That was not an appealing option. The less time she spent around him, the better. He was just as likely to rape her, but she didn’t have any say in the matter.
Trudy’s two-door Mustang had a cramped backseat. The poor woman didn’t protest when Hector told her to climb in the back. He drove the three of them to Trudy’s apartment to collect the car’s title. Along the way, she wept silently to herself. Viola started to comfort her, but Hector put his hand up to stop her.
Once they were inside the apartment, Hector looked around like he was planning to move in. Trudy hurried to find the title and signed it over. There was no more reason to stay, so to minimize any more trouble for Trudy, Viola headed for the apartment’s main door.
But Hector said, “Wait, first, I need a moment to say goodbye to Trudy. Viola, you sit on the sofa and wait where I can see you.” He pointed.
She did as he said. The son of a bitch bent the whimpering Trudy over her dining room table and raped her from behind.
Viola closed her eyes, but she couldn’t block out the sounds of Trudy sobbing.
Hector took his sweet time, laughing all the while.
When he finished, he said, “Vámonos, señorita.”
Thankfully, he didn’t speak to her during the drive back to the compound.
So much for my second chance at freedom.
When they arrived at the casa, Hector led Viola straight to Carlotta’s office, but the jefa sent Viola to hers. She tried to focus on accounting, but for once in her life, numbers refused to speak to her. It was like the spreadsheet had been written in Chinese.
She soon gave up the effort at normalcy. Instead, she found prayers for suffering online and read one after another.
-o-o-o-
Carlotta opened the door between their offices and stuck her smiling face through the opening. “That worked out surprisingly well. I’d expected Hector to break a few of Trudy’s bones, at a minimum, but she got off easy because she made things right with her car. Physical injury should always be a last resort.”
Trudy had been raped twice, which was definitely a physical injury, but Viola knew what was expected. “Si, Señora. How can I help you?”
The older woman beamed. “I knew from looking at your biography that you were smart. Please me, and you will be richly rewarded.”
Viola was willing to bend over backward to avoid an argument, but she didn’t appreciate her innuendo about sharing her bed. “Thank you for your kind words, Señora. I’m ready for my next assignment.”
Carlotta stepped into the room and waved that offer away. She sat in front of Viola’s desk. “The accounting can wait. We must talk about more spiritual things. Although you failed to frighten my staff as a ghost, I’m pleased that they’ve decided you’re Santa Muerte. Those who want to worship you will realize that I am making it possible.”
Viola didn’t understand. “They have to know I’m not really a spirit, just a woman dressed up like a folk saint.”
The jefa shrugged. “Who can say what they think, if they think anything at all. Many times, I’ve seen devoted Catholics stand in front of an image of the Virgin or Jesus and talk to stone or canvas as though they were speaking to a sacred spirit. I even do it myself sometimes when I go to mass. From now on, you are no longer Viola Hawkins but Santa Muerte. Behave accordingly.”
That was never going to fly. “With all respect, Señora, you should consider the implications of what you’re saying. If people really believe I’m a folk saint who’s hundreds of years old, they will probably expect me to perform miracles.”
Carlotta froze for a moment. “Well, that’s a point. Only one thing is certain—the other cartels’ staff are bowing down before my men instead of resisting. Diego and Pablo tell everyone on our side to say Santa Muerte sent them. Who would be foolish enough to stand up to one of God’s chosen representatives?”
“So, I’m a goddess who can’t turn water into wine or throw lightning bolts. I won’t be looked up to for long.”
“You don’t have to be, but this is a critical time for us. We’re taking over hundreds of other businesses. You are helping us avoid a bloodbath. If it will make you feel any better, we call you Niña Blanca here instead.”
Viola paused to think. Maybe she would be safer as a folk saint instead of an accountant. How hard could it be to walk the walk and talk the talk? “As you wish, Señora.”
Carlotta rubbed her hands together. “Excellent. This afternoon, I would like you to conduct a mass, or ceremony, whatever you want to call it, for hundreds of worshipers. Put something together that’s much longer than what you did this morning but the same tone. Your service this morning was extremely well received, according to Maria and Pablo. She tells me your YouTube channel already has thirty thousand subscribers.”
“I don’t have a YouTube channel.”
Carlotta smirked. “Jesus launched it two hours ago.”
Everything in Viola’s life was changing at incredible speed. She couldn’t keep up. “Listen, what you’re asking for is completely crazy, but I’ll do my best. The problem is, I need time to understand what I’m doing so it makes sense to Santa Muerte’s existing followers. Particularly since people are recording every word I utter.”
“So far, only with their cellphones, but at the next mass, we will hire a professional cameraman and microphone. That should considerably improve the quality of the video. You have four hours to get ready for today. That will have to be enough time. Plan to preach or whatever it is you do for at least forty-five minutes.”
The older woman stood and hurried away. Viola put her hands on the sides of her head to keep it from exploding.
-o-o-o-
Mount Evans Motel, Idaho Springs
Beau had stung her with his smartass comment about how easy it’d been to find Viola. What a jerk. But Athena was determined to safely get her out of Casa Santiago. She had no idea how. So, she dug into the DEA’s files to understand better who lived at the compound and how dangerous they were.
After studying everything available, Athena realized he might be right. The number of residents varied, but the DEA’s best estimate was that at least sixty people stayed on-site at all times. Most of them had lengthy criminal records. And Athena vividly remembered being attacked by cartel soldiers who launched a few rocket-propelled grenades at her a few months before. They were better armed than most American police.
In short, a firefight was out of the question. Athena would have to develop a smarter plan.
While that problem simmered in the back of her mind, she checked on the casa using her social media accounts. But nothing new had been posted. Athena also checked the Santa Muerte in Denver page. Nothing new there, either. She was spinning her wheels again.
-o-o-o-
Casa Santiago, near Louviers
The few hours of prep time Carlotta had promised quickly dwindled. As pissed as Viola was, she didn’t waste time feeling sorry for herself. That would have to come later.
Instead, she dug into the history of Santa Muerte. According to what little scholarship she could find, the folk saint was based on a couple of Aztec death gods. Over the centuries, Santa Muerte’s devotees had blended the Aztec religion with Catholicism. Everything was passed down by word-of-mouth, generation after generation until the end of the last century.
The few Santa Muer
te religious writings she found online looked surprisingly familiar. It was warmed-over Catholicism. If every other Santa Muerte priest is blatantly plagiarizing the Catholics, why can’t I?
The only answer she came up with was that she might piss off the Denver Archdiocese. Then again, she was being held against her will, so she could call it a cry for help or blame Carlotta. Viola didn’t have either the time or the learning she’d need to come up with authentic spiritual content. And Carlotta scared her a lot more than Denver’s archbishop, whoever he was.
To begin her sermon, she borrowed a Santa Muerte rosary posted online by a folk priest from Mexico. He claimed it took him twenty minutes to run through the series of prayers and words of wisdom. To fill up the extra time the jefa insisted on, Viola found a Spanish translation of Aesop’s fables. The ancient Greek sage had written dozens of very short morality tales. By interspersing them with the text of the rosary and other words of wisdom, she was sure she could stretch her mass out for forty-five minutes.
Chapter 15
Precisely at noon, Carlotta entered Viola’s office. “Time for lunch, and we have a special guest. I warn you that he’s an extremely dangerous man, so I strongly recommend you curb your tongue.”
Rather than reminding the old bitch that Viola had a lot to be sarcastic about, she bit her tongue. “Si, Señora.”
When Viola stood, Carlotta cupped Santa Muerte’s face in her hands and kissed her square on the lips. “I can’t tell you how pleasing those two words are.”
The crazy bitch was relentless. “I’m sure.”
Carlotta sighed. “Let’s go.”
Viola followed Carlotta to the dining room where they met a slim, handsome man in his forties. They shook hands with him, but Viola barely touched his soft, long fingers. Other than briefly saying hello to each person he met, he kept silent.
But his presence dampened the normally lively mealtime chatter. Few spoke until the man thanked Carlotta for her company and left the room. Then the lunch conversations returned to normal.
Anointed (Vanished Book 3) Page 10
