by Cora Kenborn
“Yeah, Alex happened. I walked right into their trap.” Holding up the wristband, she waved it between us. “You know, this thing started the ball rolling today, but after everything went wrong, I forgot I even had it on. Kind of crazy, huh?”
“Leighton, every minute of the last eleven days have been crazy. Care to elaborate?”
“My mother always liked to think everyone was beneath her, but when it came down to it, she and Emilio shared the same fatal flaw.”
“Which is?”
“Pathological narcissism.” Her response sounded so clinical that I raised an eyebrow which she answered with a snort. “Neither of them could kill me without bragging in detail about what they’d done. And this?” she said, tapping the band against her other palm. “This recorded it all. It’ll condemn her, but...”
“But what?” I asked, noticing the pained expression in her eyes.
“Mateo, what if Stella is hurt? What if—”
“Stop!” I yelled, maybe a bit too loud because she jumped, but I wouldn’t let her say the word, let alone think it. “We’ll find our little star, Leighton.”
Even as I heard myself make the promise, I wasn’t sure I believed it. I’d seen the sick things humans were capable of doing firsthand, especially to children.
My stomach churned with images as Leighton gasped, jumping and hitting the steering wheel with both hands. “That’s it!”
“What’s it?”
“Little star!” she screamed, her voice echoing inside the car.
Still lost in my own mind, I shook my head. “It’s just a nickname, it’s nothing—”
“No,” she interrupted, grabbing my arm in a fierce hold. “The rhyme, twinkle, twinkle, little star. Oh my God, Sarah said that. I thought she was just hysterical, but Stella and I sing that rhyme all the time.”
“I don’t get it. What does it mean?”
“Right before she passed out, Sarah said, ‘the circle of life.’”
“Like the song?”
“Exactly.” Letting go of my shirt, she flung her car door open. “I know where she is.”
A plain white sign was taped to the back door of Caliente, matching the one taped to the front. Leighton and I saw it as we circled the parking lot in my Tahoe, choosing to park in back for obvious reasons. It was scribbled in a female’s handwriting.
CLOSED INDEFINITELY DUE TO DEATH OF OWNER
Good news traveled fast.
By simple deduction, I figured they’d been posted by either Emilio’s wife or Amanda, and my money was on the wife. She wasn’t a stupid woman, and she sure as hell wasn’t blind to his years of infidelity.
Still, it was only eleven o’clock at night. The authorities must have worked fast on this one. Then again, Mayor Donovan was involved, so everything had probably been expedited at warp speed.
After ordering a few trusted soldiers to drive out to the train tracks and get rid of Atwood’s car, I tucked my phone in my back pocket and pulled my switchblade out of the other. As I went to work on the lock, Leighton paced behind me.
I cursed as the tip of my knife missed the angle I needed to pop the spring. Leighton’s pacing was getting out of control, so I got her talking to keep her focused.
“Tell me again why you think Stella is in here.”
“Sarah said, ‘the circle of life,’” she said, rubbing her chilled skin. “I thought she was hallucinating, but when you called Stella little star, I put it together with the rhyme, and it all made sense. Emilio said Sarah followed him and tried to stop him from taking her. I didn’t think about it at the time, but if she followed him, she knew where he took her.”
I stopped twisting the knife and glanced over my shoulder. “You figured all that out from a song title?”
She sighed. “Don’t you remember the night I got shitfaced?”
“Yeah, you kept calling Sarah, Simba and quoting The Lion King. I was told you even sang a really bad karaoke version of...”
“‘The Circle of Life,’” she said, her hands slamming onto her hips in satisfaction. “Stella is in there. You just have to get me in, and I’ll find her.”
“Well, you won’t have to wait long.” Holding the doorknob, I gave a sharp flick of my wrist and it clicked. “We’re in.”
Leighton tore past me in a blur of drenched denim and a lingering smell of charcoal, and I followed behind her. Even though her theory sounded plausible, I had my doubts. Emilio was an asshole, but he hadn’t lasted as long as he did in the cartel by being transparent. Hiding Stella inside Caliente would be too simple. If a man wanted something bad enough to kill for it, he wouldn’t turn around and just...
Hide it in plain sight.
Just like Hector did.
Leighton almost ripped the stock room door off its hinges. “Stella? Stella, it’s Mommy. Are you here?”
After tearing the entire bar apart, we came up with nothing.
Leighton collapsed against the wall with her head in her hands. “I don’t get it. I know she’s in here.”
Or out.
“Maybe not.” Grabbing her hand, I dragged her outside where Emilio kept a locked storage shed tucked away near the back of the property.
Leighton pressed her face against the rusted metal door. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star...”
Neither of us breathed as a voice so faint I thought I imagined it floated by.
“How I wondow what you awe.”
Leighton’s knees buckled. “That’s her!” Tears rolled down her face, and she barreled into me. “Stella? Up above the world so high.”
The faint voice answered. “Wike a diamond in da sky.”
“Stand back,” I instructed, pulling my gun out.
She grabbed my arm. “No! You’ll hurt her.”
“I’m not going to shoot inside, Leighton. Just the lock. I’m done with this.”
“No guns.” Pulling my knife out of my back pocket, Leighton snapped it open and within a couple turns of her wrist, popped the lock. I didn’t have time to be impressed. Once she pushed the door open and flipped on the light, my world came crashing down around me.
A little girl in jeans and a pink shirt sat huddled near the back, her knees drawn to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her body looked just like Leighton’s did when I found her in the woods, but her face was like looking in a mirror.
Recognition registered in her beautiful brown eyes, and she scrambled to her feet. “Mommy!”
Leighton fell to her knees, scooping the little girl into her arms. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what Leighton would say. It hardly seemed like the time or place for a family reunion. As much as I wanted to claim my child, I didn’t want Stella’s first memory of meeting her father to be in a dirty shed after being kidnapped.
But as usual, Leighton knew exactly what to say. Inching toward me, she placed a hand on my arm and smiled. “Stella, this is my friend, Mateo. Can you say hello?”
There were two moments in my life I knew I’d never forget: the first time I saw a girl in a yellow dress, and the first time I heard the voice of an angel.
“Hi.” She grinned, dimples sinking into both her cheeks.
I choked out the words lodged in my throat. “Hello, Stella. I’ve waited a long time to meet you.”
Ending the call, I glanced at Leighton. “Val’s contact at the morgue said he can only slow down the autopsy report by two days.”
“So, I’m officially dead for forty-eight more hours, huh?”
The smirk on Leighton’s face made me question our plan. After all she’d been through, maybe I needed to handle this myself.
“No,” she said firmly as if reading my mind. “I’m doing this. She’s not getting away with it.”
We didn’t speak again, riding the rest of the way in silence with Stella sleeping soundly in the back. Although I had no idea how she managed it, considering her uncle’s four-letter tirade when Leighton called him and explained everything that had happened.
B
y the time we got to Brody’s apartment, my whole body felt like a downed power line. Stella whined about spending the night away from her mother, but Leighton managed to soothe her with promises of candy and dolls and other shit I had no idea about. Eventually, she gave in, giving her uncle a hug and kiss before skipping off to his bedroom to watch television. Obviously, the two of them had a solid relationship.
A fact that both calmed and irritated me.
Brody watched Stella until she closed the door then turned his gaze toward us. His expression was dark and sullen. The ravaged man I’d left on his knees in that field was gone. In his place stood a man fractured by his own choices. The Brody Harcourt I’d come to know and call a friend was locked away behind a wall of nothing. He was lost, and I wasn’t sure he’d ever return.
A tear fell from the corner of Leighton’s eye as she wrapped her arms around her brother’s neck. For whatever reason, he couldn’t hug her back, and my heart broke for them when I saw Leighton die a little inside.
“I’m going to fix everything,” she whispered in his ear. “My best attack is a surprise attack.”
Brody stared at the wall. “It shouldn’t have gotten this far. I should’ve protected both of you.”
I’d seen her tortured enough for one day. Stepping in, I took her by the hand. “They’re ready for us. We have to go, mi amor.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Leighton
When Mateo said they were ready for us, he wasn’t kidding—and by “they,” he meant Val and Eden. He’d called them on the way to Brody’s with explicit instructions on what to have ready for us at the Aloft Hotel in downtown Houston. By the time we arrived, my stomach was already in knots.
Even after a few hours of sleep, I felt no better. While Mateo got ready in the main room, I fought with the tie on my wrap dress as Eden fussed with a stray hair that had escaped out of my brown wig. Just as she got it tucked back in, it popped back out.
“I look ridiculous,” I said, collapsing against the sink.
To her credit, Eden didn’t seem offended. In fact, she leaned next to me on the counter and smiled. “There’s no worse betrayal than that of a parent.”
“You sound like you know from experience.”
She gave me a sad smile and patted her belly. “This little guy doesn’t have any grandparents either, Leighton. That’s not by accident. We’re taught to honor thy mother and father, but where’s their rule? They’re supposed to love and protect us at all costs. When they don’t honor their commitment, we’re no longer bound to honor ours.” Squeezing my hand, she walked out and closed the door behind her.
Turning around, I let her words sink in. The longer I stood there, the less nervous I felt and my heart filled with overdue revenge.
“Checkmate,” I announced to the strange woman in the mirror.
The JW Marriott was a short six-minute walk from the Aloft Hotel. Our choice of meeting places wasn’t by accident. We needed quick and easy access both inside and outside the hotel. Although we weren’t guests, Val had secured us keys to the side entrance, which had been staked out and verified as unguarded. Gaining access to the room wouldn’t be a problem. Unlike a traditional campaign event, this was a press conference and authorization wasn’t required.
A fatal mistake on her part.
As we walked toward the enormous banquet room, the sound of her voice boomed over the microphone, filtering into the hallway. I felt myself tense. Apparently so did Mateo, because he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. Absorbing his strength, I nodded, and we walked inside, blending in with the crowd on the outskirts of the room.
My mother was in her element. When the spotlight was on her, she pulled out all the stops. Fake tears flowed down her face, and she even managed a few wobbles in her voice.
Aw, how sweet. A performance dedicated to me.
“People of Houston, I stand before you as a victim with a bleeding heart wanting to heal the wound that’s been carved in the soul of our community by evil. As you may have heard, yesterday, Emilio Reyes, owner of Caliente Cantina and who’s now known to have been head of the Carrera Cartel’s Houston sector, murdered my late husband’s parents then kidnapped and murdered my daughter and my granddaughter. He used them to lure me to a secluded location where I can only assume he planned to kill me too.”
A gasp rippled over the crowd.
My mother held up a hand. “It’s frightening to realize that evil like this lived and worked right under our noses. I know you’re asking yourselves, ‘why, Mayor Donovan? Why such a vicious attack on your family?’ I’ll tell you. Because I stood up against the Carreras. Because my late husband stood up against them. Because my son fought on the side of what is just and right. Because my daughter saw the good in a boy instead of the evil in the man.”
I was at a loss. I couldn’t buy enough shovels to dig my way out of the pile of shit she’d just flung.
“Fucking bitch,” I muttered under my breath.
“I have to hand it to her,” Mateo chimed in. “I’ve never seen someone talk out of their ass without bending over.”
Dabbing her eyes, my mother made her hand tremble as she took a sip of water. “I’d like to introduce my new campaign manager, Paul, who’ll give you the information we have while I collect myself. I do need a moment, if you don’t mind.” She made sure to look extra devastated while making her way toward the restroom.
“I need a moment too, if you don’t mind.” I mimicked, turning toward the door.
Squeezing my hand again, Mateo placed a light kiss on my forehead. “You do what you have to do. I’ll take care of everything else.” Tossing the flash drive in his hand, he scanned the room, his eyes settling on the sound system and laptop Val had secured for us in a far corner.
The ladies’ room wasn’t huge, which benefitted me. Three stalls, two sinks and one door with a turn-lock. I took my time applying my lipstick and waited until the last person walked out, leaving only my mother primping in the mirror like some wounded prima donna.
Dropping my lipstick in my purse, I calmly walked to the door and turned the lock. Hearing the click, mother glanced up, her expression more annoyed than worried. Smiling to myself, I turned my back to her.
Typical.
I heard her walk toward the door. Of course, I was in her way, and she let out a dramatic sigh. “If you’ll excuse me, please. People are waiting on me.”
Turning slowly, I raised my hand and smacked her across the face, the impact knocking her chin over her shoulder and her body against the sink. She grabbed her cheek, her eyes widening as they settled on my face.
“What’s wrong, Mother?” I taunted, drawing out her name. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Leighton,” she sputtered, glancing around for help that would never come. “What’s gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into me?” I threw my head back and laughed. “The truth, Mother, and believe me, it really does set you free.” Placing a hand on either side of her, I leaned against the sink and blocked her in. “Where’s your husband?”
Her eyes flickered. “You know he’s still missing.”
I smiled. Breathing in her fear, I pressed my lips against her ear and whispered, “Wrong again. He’s dead. You ruined my innocence, robbed my future, stole my freedom, and now I’m going to fuck you out of yours.”
Pushing away from her, I left her speechless as I unlocked the door and walked into the hallway. It didn’t take her long to catch up to me. I expected it. In fact, I counted on it. My mother had shocked me in the last two weeks, but in certain ways she was a creature of habit. If I could count on anything, it was the fact that she’d bust through a brick wall to protect her image.
Too late.
I heard her heels click behind me then abruptly stop. It didn’t matter. She had the same view I had and two perfectly good ears.
“Remember when you pointed out that a woman ensures her own survival? You were right.” I smiled as her little homem
ade porno projected on one of the stark white walls of the ballroom.
As if that weren’t enough, she gasped as the words I just said to her repeated in her own voice in surround sound during her damning confessional.
“This proves nothing,” she insisted. “I’ll say it’s all faked.”
“Go to hell.”
She grabbed my arm, her nails sinking into my skin. “You ensured that for yourself the minute you spread your legs for a second-class criminal.”
I stared down at my arm and shook my head. “Conspiracy to commit murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, extortion, and law enforcement tampering. That’s not going to fare too well in the polls.” Prying her claws off me, I patted her hand. “Enjoy prison, Mother.”
As I walked down the hall toward the side exit, she let out a harsh laugh. “You’ve had the chance to kill me for weeks, and you didn’t have the guts. You expect to survive in their world?”
Mateo waited in the shadows by the door, yet I still stopped. “There are plenty of Carrera and Muñoz wives and girlfriends in prison. Why do something for yourself when you can pay other people to do it for you? You taught me that.”
“You’re just a drug runner’s whore,” she yelled as voices grew louder behind her. “You always have been, but you could have been so much more.”
I laughed but kept walking. “Like you? A pathetic and desperate excuse for a woman? Yeah. I’m okay with that.”
“The police are here!” I heard someone shout behind her. “I see the mayor. Don’t let her leave!”
“Leighton!” she called out as Mateo took my hand and pushed the door open.
I couldn’t resist one last look at her. “That’s Mrs. Cortes to you, bitch.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Mateo
“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” Leighton begged.
Brody smirked. “And leave this quiet little town? Not on your life. Besides, I have to bury my grandparents, make my mother’s life a living hell, quit my job, and oh, yeah, play the grieving brother for my presumed dead sister. I’m swamped.”
