by Ali Vali
“I want you and the kids to live here with me. Cain’s already offered to add on to this house so you’ll feel comfortable and more like it’s ours. Some people might think what we’ve been through builds false feelings, but I love you, Abigail. I love you and I want a life with you and the children—a life we can make our own.”
“I love you, and I’m glad you showed up that day. I have faith that you’ll keep us safe, but even if I didn’t, I’d go through hell to stay with you because I love you.”
“It’ll change how we live until we find her.”
“Do you think we can talk to Cain? I don’t want to run anywhere. Not for Nicola, her family, or any other reason.” She kissed Finley again, loving the way Finley held her. “If she wants me that bad, she’s going to have to come and get me.”
*
“Where is she?” Marisol asked the woman in Nicolette Blanc’s apartment. She’d seen the woman before and vaguely remembered she was Nicolette’s secretary or something. “She’s not answering her phone, and everyone else with her is gone.”
“I really don’t know,” the woman said for the fifth time. “She left last night and hasn’t returned.”
“Was she with someone?”
The woman hesitated, so Marisol grabbed her by the collar. “Where is she?”
“She’s got another apartment not far from here. She was going there.”
Marisol got her people moving and waited outside the small rental while Julio picked the lock. Inside was minimal furniture and a bag of stale pastries, the kind Nicolette always ate. The clothes on the bed, though, belonged to a man, and Marisol tore the shirt in half in a fit of anger. The bitch had been playing her.
“Stay behind and see if you find anything else,” she said to one of the guys with her. “Julio, let’s go.” They drove back to the house, but when she stepped into the office, the only one there was Tracy. “Where’s my father?”
“He’s upstairs talking to Mrs. Delarosa.” Tracy stood and handed her a file. “I put together the numbers for this month. Mr. Delarosa wants you to look at them and then try to find some new places to move his stuff through. He wants to find some that are better defended and limit who knows about them.”
“He didn’t want you to do it?”
Tracy’s face, as always, was hard to read. “Mr. Delarosa was specific in that he wanted you to do it.”
“Have you heard from Nicolette?” Admitting to Tracy that she’d lost track of Nicolette made a pain blossom over Marisol’s right eye.
“She cancelled an appointment with your father last night at the last minute. She said something about having to do something for her father. I haven’t heard from her since.” Tracy flipped through her appointment book and put her finger on a phone number written in it. “Hang on and let’s ask, if you’re worried.”
Tracy had a brief conversation with someone after punching in more numbers than a normal call, then thanked whoever was on the other end.
“Who was that?” Marisol asked.
“Her father says he talked to her last night and hasn’t found her since, and he’s tried all day today. He sounds worried and confessed that she’d gotten a call from someone in Nunzio’s organization.”
“Someone from Nunzio’s people called who?” Hector said, coming in with a leather bag.
“Nicolette. And now she’s missing,” Marisol said. She stiffened when Hector came close to her.
“The guy I put with you says you’ve gotten close to this woman. You ran to her after this,” he said, putting his fingers on her still-healing lips. “Did you cry to her about what an animal I am?” He pressed harder to keep her quiet. “The time for you to grow up and start thinking is now, Mari.”
“I kept her close only because she seemed like she was up to something. I did it for you. I would never go against you.”
“Remember that, and forget about the Blancs. If they’re trying to play both us and the Lucas, they can drown in their French wines.”
“Are you sure? They wanted to move more than anyone else who buys from us,” she said. Her head snapped back when he slapped her.
“When I’m dead you can do whatever you like, but for now, forget about her. Your other choice is to walk out and keep going. I’ll give you enough of a head start to make it sporting because I’m tired of being questioned.”
“Yes, Papa,” she said. She had not cried out and resisted the urge to touch her throbbing cheek. “Whatever you say.”
For now, she’d play along, but she had another option. She could kill him for putting his hands on her again. She’d discovered that she missed Nicolette’s company, and, no matter what, she’d find what had happened to her. Even if it meant going to war with her only family.
Chapter Thirty-six
“Today isn’t a religious holiday, but it’s a perfect day to welcome William Cain Casey into the church,” Father Andrew said as the Casey family and friends stood at the back of the cathedral for Billy’s baptism. Even Finley’s parents had come from Florida for this, and to meet Abigail and her family. “Today is a day to give thanks for what we have, those we love, and all God has given us. For Cain and Emma, it’s the day to celebrate the addition to their family and the joy this little one will bring.”
He went through the ritual of the church, and Lou, Remi, and Dallas took turns holding the baby as Andy anointed his head with oil and poured water over his hair, waking him up. Billy would have a godfather and two godmothers this time around, but it was important to Emma to include Remi and Dallas in this special occasion.
Cain noticed Shelby standing in the shadows of the sanctuary. For once, her eyes weren’t focused on Muriel, who was holding Kristen’s hand while they watched the proceedings. “Turkey for everyone back at the house, then football,” Cain said when Father Andy finished the ceremony with a booming amen.
Dallas took Billy and posed while Carmen took plenty of pictures, so Cain walked over to talk to Shelby. When she was close enough, Shelby handed her back the paper she’d given her right before the wedding. “Thank you for everything, but I won’t need that any more.”
“I’ll tell you that, in this case, confession is not good for the soul, so I hope you’ll find some peace now. Your parents can rest easy, and no matter if this looks like there’s no place for you,” she pointed back to her family, “you can always knock on my door if you need anything.”
“For now, let’s go back to the relationship we know,” Shelby said but hugged her. “And thanks. I do sleep better now, so watch yourself.”
Cain laughed, then waved when Emma called her over for a family picture. “One more, and then we eat,” she said, and Hayden pumped his fist in the air. She took the baby and handed him to Emma so she could pick Hannah up. Everyone smiled as Dallas took the next few photos.
Cain couldn’t help but notice the apprehension in Abigail’s expression. Finley had filled her in earlier and told her what Abigail wanted to do, so she let the others go out with Andrew and waited behind with Abigail and Finley.
“Will you help us?” Abigail said, holding her hands.
“Not so long ago, my wife and I had a talk like the one we’re going to have, and I told her one thing.” She looked from Abigail to Finley and wished she could snap her fingers to make things perfect for them. “You are my family, and in our family we have a saying. ‘You’re mine but only for a time.’ It holds meaning for our children.” She heard her family outside laughing, and smiled. “It means that one day we must let them go, but not until they are ready to fly without the fear they will fall.”
“And when it comes to us?” Abigail asked.
“You’re my family, and I’ll let no one hurt what’s mine. You aren’t alone in this, Abigail, and when we find the people trying to hurt you, they’ll wish they’d stayed dead. You have my word on that.”
Abigail’s eyes filled with tears as she hugged Cain while Finley nodded and mouthed “thank you” over Abigail’s head.
&nb
sp; Cain nodded and gestured to the door. “Let’s go join the others,” she said, leading them outdoors.
She wasn’t surprised to see Fiona hanging around close by, so she walked over to her and waited for her to speak.
“Are you okay after everything?” Fiona asked, rocking on her feet as if she were nervous.
“My wife says forgiveness is good for the soul, so I’ll be okay. You wasting your vacation on me?”
“I have a few days off, but I thought I’d go see my mother when I had more than a few.”
“You might have dinner later than you planned, but she’s waiting on you.” Cain reached in her pocket and took out a plane ticket. “If you hurry, you’ll make your flight.”
“I can’t take this,” Fiona said, but held onto the ticket anyway.
“I didn’t buy it, your mother did, and sent it to me since she figured I’d see you soon enough and perhaps convince you to go. Use it or don’t, but try not to waste the chance. One day your mother is here, and one day she’s not. Try not to regret passing up the chance to spend time with her.”
“Is that a threat?” Fiona’s question didn’t carry its usual menace.
“Enjoy your mother’s cooking, Fiona, and bulk up on the fiber. It might let you pass that uptight stick you have wedged in your ass. It’s not a threat. It’s advice from someone who still misses her mum. The Lord only gives us one mother, so go see her and make her happy. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Same to you.” She held up the ticket. “And thanks.” She hurried away, but not before glancing back a few times.
“You’re getting soft, Casey,” she whispered to herself.
“Everything okay?” Emma asked as Cain joined her and took the baby so she could hold him up over her head to let the long baptism gown he wore hang down.
“Today, everything is perfect, and I’m going to do what has to be done so that tomorrow will be just as good.”
“What about Abigail and everything else?” Emma tugged on the baby’s gown so Cain lowered him and kissed her wife.
“I’ll spend today giving thanks for what I have and my love for you. Tomorrow, I’ll call up hell’s fury, if that’s what it’ll take to keep us whole. But we’ll worry about that tomorrow. Today is for us, a new baby, and a family we’ll grow old with. I have no other prayer than that.”
“And the FBI thinks you’re a devil with no soul.” Emma scratched her abdomen through her shirt and laughed.
“Even the devil prays sometimes, lass, and when that doesn’t work I’ll back it up with whatever it takes to keep my clan safe. On that, you have my word. Like I said on my wedding day, I’m yours, for eternity. Our days will be long, and maybe not perfect, but there’ll be more laughter than tears, and more love than anything else.”
“I could listen to you forever.”
“It’s a good thing, my love, because I’ve got so many more tales to tell.”
About the Author
Originally from Cuba, Ali Vali has retained much of her family’s traditions and language and uses them frequently in her stories. Having her father read her stories and poetry before bed every night as a child infused her with a love of reading, which carries till today. In 2000, Ali decided to embark on a new path and started writing.
Ali now lives in the suburbs of New Orleans with her partner of thirty-two years, and finds that living in such a history-rich area provides plenty of material to draw from in creating her novels and short stories. Mixing imagination with different life experiences makes it easier to create a slew of different characters that are engaging to the reader on many levels. Ali states that, “The feedback from readers encourages me to continue to hone my skills as a writer.”
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