Anointed (Vanished Book 3)

by Michael Arches

  Beau said, “Better you than me, girl. That did not look like fun.”

  She laughed, and her insides ached. “The best things in life aren’t free.”

  “Does he look anything like that guy he’s supposed to be? Caruso?”

  Leo was one of the dozens of über-babies cloned in a test tube by a mad Chinese scientist. The doctor had been murdered by his own government after they figured out what he and a lunatic billionaire were up to.

  But before the doctor met his demise, he secretly fertilized a human embryo with DNA from a brilliant, forty-year-old Italian sculptor and painter named Roberto Caruso. Athena later discovered his identity, and she researched his life. The largest newspaper in Rome had once anointed Caruso as Italy’s modern Michelangelo. Actually, the man looked like a young Orlando Bloom with curly hair.

  Only time would tell whether Leo was a true reproduction of the original, but at that moment, Athena didn’t care. Her son seemed healthy, and that was all that mattered.

  “Well?” Beau asked.

  She’d forgotten his question. “Yes, he’s got Caruso’s nose. This is going to be the beginning of an incredible life.”

  -o-o-o-

  Byron Rogers United States Courthouse, Denver

  Chambers returned to the interrogation room, and Gloria laid into her like an Alaskan brown bear after a salmon. It was great to have someone on her side for a change, and it took all of Viola’s willpower to keep her inner smile from showing.

  “What the hell do you mean,” Gloria asked, “trying to force my daughter to testify against stone-cold killers?”

  “As we’ve explained to her several times, Ms. Hawkins, we can protect you, both of you. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but we sometimes have to do things we’re not happy about for the good of everybody.”

  “That’s your stinking job,” Gloria said, “doing things for the good of the country. We’re not soldiers or cops. Leave my little girl alone, or drug lords will be the least of your problems.”

  Chambers took a document out of the folder and handed it to Viola. “We have a material witness warrant, duly signed by a Federal judge. It authorizes us to hold you pending testimony in front of a Federal grand jury tomorrow morning.”

  Viola’s stomach dropped to her toes. This was insane and getting worse.

  Gloria screamed, “God damn every one of you! You’re not taking my daughter anywhere! We’re going home right now!”

  But four burly uniformed cops entered the room. Two of them manhandled Gloria and dragged her away. She kicked and screamed as the cops pulled her down a hallway to the right.

  The last two cops surrounded Viola. She followed her mom’s example, struggling and screaming. The cops hauled her down the hall to an elevator and down to the basement.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “Denver County Jail, where we house female prisoners,” one of them said. “Way out east on Smith Road.”

  -o-o-o-

  Denver County Jail

  Viola had never been arrested before, and even though this supposedly wasn’t an arrest, they treated her the same. She was processed, strip-searched, and handed an orange jumpsuit. Talk about humiliating.

  The deputies gave her a cell of her own, but she had to leave the door open during the day. After she cleaned her face to get rid of the makeup, she sat on her bunk and tried to figure out how to get out of her latest mess. Most of the prisoners wandering the halls ignored her, which was perfect.

  At dinnertime, one of the guards entered Viola’s cell. “You better head to the cafeteria. It’s your last chance to eat today.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

  He shrugged and wandered off.

  A few minutes later, a short, heavyset, Hispanic woman strutted into the cell. “I’m Juanita. You must be the Niña Blanca. I was told to keep an eye out for you. Come along, and I’ll introduce you to the other Santiago ladies.”

  Viola tried the same line as before. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

  The woman snorted and sat on the bunk next to Viola without being invited. “Don’t blame you, considering the crap they feed us, but come on, girl. Don’t let the pigs see they got you down.”

  “Really, I couldn’t eat.”

  The woman sat quietly for a moment. “You sure?”

  Viola nodded.

  Instead of getting up and leaving, the woman remained for a few more minutes, chewing on her fingernails.

  Finally, she let out a deep breath. “Well, here’s the thing, girl. Carlotta is worried that you might lose your mind, talk out of school, so to speak. The fact that you’re here tells me you refused to cooperate. Good girl. Are they threatening to drag you in front of a grand jury?”

  No sense in denying it. “Yeah. Tomorrow morning.”

  “Nasty fucking process. Prosecutors ask you lots of questions without your lawyer that Carlotta is paying for. That ain’t right. I’m glad I can tell Carlotta you’re smart enough to keep your mouth shut. I can tell her that, can’t I?”

  The woman wasn’t as tall as Viola, but she outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. And scars on her face and neck told Viola that the woman was used to fighting. Viola had no choice. “Yeah, you can.”

  The woman smiled. A few teeth were missing. “Perfect. Carlotta swears you’re honest. As long as you keep your mouth shut, ain’t nobody here going to bother you none.”

  Juanita tapped the center of her ample chest. “I’ll look out for you. We’ve got the biggest group here, so nobody messes with us, not even the guards.”

  “Good to know.”

  Viola’s new jefa waddled away. What she hadn’t said was equally obvious. If Juanita came after Viola, nobody inside the jail would stop her.

  -o-o-o-

  Jackson Memorial Hospital, Boulder

  Athena wouldn’t have minded a glass of wine or two, but she knew that was wishful thinking. She zoned out, glad she wouldn’t have to have another kid for a while. But wouldn’t it be nice for Leo to have a little sister?

  Beau was sitting in a chair near her fiddling with his latest burn phone. She asked, “Where’d they take my little bundle of happiness?”

  “Don’t know. All they said was, ‘We need to run some tests.’ I’ll go find out where Leo is.”

  Before Beau reached the door, a nurse opened it and brought Athena’s son back.

  This was the moment of truth. “Well?” Athena asked. “Is he okay?”

  “Perfect,” the nurse said with a mischievous grin. “If he turns up missing check my house first. I’ve seen a lot of babies come into the world, but this one was anointed by the angels.”

  The nurse probably said that to every new mom, but Athena couldn’t keep a huge grin off her face. And she knew that Leo had great genes. “I’ve got this feeling he’s going to be popular with people.”

  “That smile is going to break a thousand hearts,” the nurse said, “but he’s fussing a little bit, like he’s hungry.”

  Athena wasn’t surprised. “He forced me to eat like a lumberjack for the last few months.”

  The nurse showed Athena how to hold Leo in position and help him to nurse. “So you know, some babies have a real tough time with this.”

  Within a minute, though, he was latched on and suckling like he was on the verge of starvation.

  The nurse giggled. “I’m telling you, he knows what he wants. I’ve never seen a kid take to the breast so quickly.”

  Happiness flowed through Athena, a radiant joy she’d never experienced before. She checked the skin on the back of her hand to see whether it was glowing. It wasn’t, but she knew she and Leo would have a wonderful life together.

  The nurse vanished. Beau smiled at Athena and her son. “He’s obviously off to a great start. What do you know about Caruso’s childhood?”

  A couple of months back, Athena had flown to Italy to meet his mom. Her cover story h
ad been that she was an American journalist doing an article on the art world’s latest cultural phenomenon.

  “Caruso grew up in a small town named Vernazza, a gorgeous spot on Italy’s northwest coast. His mom still lives there. I chatted with her for eight hours. She was so proud that she simply could not shut up. Not that I wanted her to, of course. According to her, he was a perfect baby and kid who never gave her the least bit of trouble.”

  Beau snorted.

  “Yeah, I know, and after I drew her out some, she admitted he’d been a rambunctious kid. Also, I spoke to a few of her neighbors, all the ones who could speak English. Most of the town knew him well, both as a boy and a man. They were proud as hell, but he’d been a handful growing up, always getting into trouble.”

  “Sounds like me,” Beau said. “He’s a chip off the old block.”

  -o-o-o-

  Denver County Jail

  Viola couldn’t help but feel that the DEA hadn’t improved her situation much, if any. In theory, the deputies should keep an eye out for her, but it was obvious that Juanita and her crew could attack Viola at will.

  The solution to her worry was obvious—keep her big mouth shut. The worst the Feds could do to her would be to leave her in jail for a while. She’d have to eat bad food and sleep on a too-thin mattress for a few months according to Juanita, but that would be paradise in contrast to a lifetime of witness protection.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when someone knocked on the open bathroom door. “Santa Muerte?” a fifty-something Hispanic woman asked in Spanish.

  Viola knew the look. This woman was burdened with troubles. “Si.”

  The woman dropped to her knees and crawled forward on them. Viola had also tried to convince people to stand in front of her instead of groveling, but that wasn’t their culture.

  The woman bent forward and kissed Viola’s slippers. God only knew what a guard would do if he walked by, but none did.

  Weeping, the older woman explained how her husband had convinced her to become a drug mule. Every month for over a year, she’d pretended to visit a cousin in Guadalajara. While there, she swallowed a dozen balloons filled with pure cocaine. She’d earned three thousand dollars for each trip.

  But the last time, a customs agent became suspicious for some reason. An x-ray quickly revealed her hidden cargo. Worse, her husband hadn’t paid her bail. In fact, he’d disappeared.

  Viola had no special pull with the Feds but she could listen to the woman and pray with her. And that now-familiar glow settled over Niña Blanca as she comforted a member of her flock.

  After the woman left the cell with a smile on her face, Viola wondered whether she’d helped. She had no idea, but the woman thanked her repeatedly anyway.

  Ten minutes later, another downcast woman arrived. She was young and pregnant, and the baby’s father was one of Pablo’s soldiers. He insisted she work as a drug runner.

  -o-o-o-

  Jackson Memorial Hospital, Boulder

  After a surprisingly good dinner, Athena slipped into a drowsy, dreamlike state. Leo slept next to her, and Beau’s eyelids were drooping as he sat in a nearby chair. Her thoughts came and went at random. Then, she remembered the DEA rescue attempt. “Did they recover Viola Hawkins?”

  Beau’s eyes snapped open again. He blew out a deep breath. “Yeah, and one of the dirtbags got himself shot dead in the process. But after all that effort, the woman refuses to talk. Claims she fears for her life. All that effort may have been for nothing.”

  “Gee, fool,” Athena snapped back, “I wonder why Viola would be crazy enough to think that? Maybe because she’s being chased by the worst drug cartel any of us have ever heard of. Hiding out from them hasn’t worked out for me real well, either, if you haven’t noticed. I hope that after an hour of snarling at her and gnashing their teeth, the Feds let her go.”

  He shook his head. “I should’ve known you’d take her side. No, ma petite, the prosecutors got a material witness warrant and locked her up. Hopefully, a night in jail will loosen her tongue. She has an appointment with the grand jury in the morning.”

  If Athena hadn’t been so comfortable lying next to Leo in bed, she would’ve gotten up and smacked Beau on the side of the head. “Hand me my damned phone.”

  It sat on a table next to him, but he didn’t move. “Sorry, but you’ve already had a big day. Time to rest.”

  She appreciated that he was worried about her, but how much work would a phone call be? “All I’m doing is sending a message to Cici, asking her to help Viola.”

  “By the Virgin, I swear you’ll put me in an early grave. Cici’s a lunatic.”

  A lunatic with a heart as big as Pike’s Peak. “That makes her perfect for this job.”

  Beau whined about making some huge sacrifice but handed Athena her phone. She used her encrypted email to send a message about Viola’s predicament and ended by apologizing for not taking care of it herself.

  Cici’s response came back quickly. Shush. Leo needs his mama, so Mama Cici will take care of this Viola. I was planning on coming out to Denver anyway to see the newest rascal in the family. Don’t worry, girl. I got this.

  Athena hated to think about what Cici meant, but she had a ton of experience in dealing with personal crises. She’d moved thirty of her closest relatives out to Beverly Hills, and most were nuttier than the Kardashians. Two of Cici’s relatives were already in rehab, and one was in jail for peeing on Marlon Brando’s star on the Walk of Fame. Cici’s life made for great reality TV—her show was number one on Saturday nights—but the emotional toll it took on Athena had been horrible. Hillbilly Heaven was a cross between Game of Thrones and WWE.

  Leo woke up crying. That distracted Athena from Viola’s problems. For at least the next eighteen years, he’d get first priority on her time and attention.

  Chapter 20

  Friday

  Denver County Jail

  Viola woke up after a miserable night on a mattress that smelled like sweat and sex. She absolutely didn’t want to know why or how.

  Her appetite had been poor for days, but at that moment, she was starving. She headed to the cafeteria and sat with her peeps, the Santiago cartel crowd. Juanita had been right. The woman did boss around the biggest gang in the jail. Viola had met a half-dozen of them while performing her priestly duties the night before, and they introduced her to everybody else.

  After a bland breakfast, Juanita pulled Viola aside. “The word is, the US Attorney himself wants to present you to the grand jury. We hope that won’t cause you to have a change of heart.”

  The one thing Viola had to hand to lunatics like Carlotta and Juanita was that they didn’t beat around the bush. She knew exactly what they wanted from her, and she had a pretty good idea of how much she’d suffer if she didn’t make them happy. “I’ll keep my promise, as long as Carlotta keeps hers.”

  Juanita frowned. “You’re not in much of a position to make demands.”

  Viola had had enough. “Yeah? If I start screaming bloody murder, the guard holding up the wall over there is going to protect me. Push me too hard, and I’ll say goodbye for good. The Feds swear you’ll never find me in witness protection.”

  Juanita’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

  Viola continued, “But the thing is, I’d prefer to go back to my normal life. If Carlotta promises me that I can—if I keep my big mouth shut—I will.”

  Juanita thought for a moment then said, “Si. Carlotta will make that promise. Me, too.”

  Viola figured the odds were only fifty-fifty that they’d keep their word, but that was better than no chance at all.

  -o-o-o-

  Jackson Memorial Hospital, Boulder

  The next morning, Athena turned her phone on, and two text messages waited. She was groggy because she’d been up three times during the night to feed Leo. The screen on her phone wouldn’t come into focus until a nurse was kind enough to bring her a cup of coff
ee.

  The first message read: Me and the cavalry will be there by noon. We’re holding a rally in Civic Center Park. I’ve invited two million of my besties to come to Denver, namely everybody who follows me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. I know you can’t show up, but I’ll be thinking of you.

  Cici wasn’t kidding about her number of followers. She was one of the most popular celebrities on social media. By contrast, Athena had ten friends, all of them relatives. Life just wasn’t fair.

  The second message read: I talked to Alexander the Greatest. He wants to come to help Viola. We’re on the way.

  Athena again wondered whether she’d made a big mistake by asking Cici to take charge. She was still a teenager, barely an adult, and totally wrapped up in her West Coast fantasy world. But it was too late to reconsider.

  Alexander the Greatest was a California defense lawyer who’d become famous for representing rap stars and A-list actors. His main credentials were he had his own popular YouTube channel, and he was always on the late-night comedy shows.

  Athena didn’t know how his LA style would work out in Colorado, but she’d find out soon enough. As usual, Beau had been right, but they were committed to the spectacle.

  Leo woke up, again, hungry. The kid seemed determined to grow by leaps and bounds.

  -o-o-o-

  Byron Rogers United States Courthouse, Denver

  Viola couldn’t help but wonder how Juanita had known about the inner workings of the US Attorney’s office, but she was right. Two US Marshals grabbed her after breakfast and drove her back downtown. In another interrogation room, the US Attorney, Samson Riddle, greeted her with a toothy grin. Although he was tall, blond, and handsome, she reminded herself that he probably had a heart made of coal. In her limited experience, most lawyers did.

  “Ms. Hawkins, such a pleasure. When DEA came to me with their plan to rescue you, I couldn’t have been more thrilled. And here you are!”

  Riddle used the same eager voice favored by late-night TV announcers selling magical mops. And that’s not all! For no extra charge…

  Viola bit her cheek to keep from laughing. “Thank you for your kind efforts on my behalf, sir.”