The Naked Truth

by Maggie Aldrich

  “Ah, Emilycita, that is only what we thought.” Her head shot up, the anger returning to her eyes. “It turns out he was playing us all along.”

  A loud commotion from the hallway interrupted us. The door handle clicked, and I swung around. Diego backed in, dragging my bruised and bloodied dad with him. His hands were bound behind his back. One eye was nearly swollen shut, his lip was cut and bleeding, and he was bent at the waist as if pained him too much to stand up straight. What had Diego done to him? Fury engulfed me.

  Then I saw Diego’s face. He didn’t look much better than my dad. His eye was beginning to swell and his cheek was bruised and cut. I smiled inside at the thought of someone getting at least one good swing at him.

  “Diego!” Caty said sharply. “What have you done?” She walked around me and looked at my dad, holding his head high, pain evident on his face. “You were to save him for me!”

  She cupped my dad’s face in her hands. Her voice was low and soothing as she said, “Oh, my dear, dear friend.” She forced his gaze to meet hers. “Your hell is only just beginning.” Then she pushed his face roughly to the side. He winced in pain.

  It crushed me to see my dad like this. I tried to go to him, only to be stopped by Caty as she wrenched my arm.

  “Get back here, you little brat,” she growled. I fought her until Diego hoisted his gun and pointed it at my father’s torso. I immediately stilled.

  Diego lowered the weapon and addressed Caty. “Lo siento, señora.” Jerking his head toward my dad, he continued. “Those three amigos,” he spat out, “they tried to all attack me at once.” He rubbed his jaw carefully. “That big one, he is strong.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But then Tank showed up and took care of things.” Caty nodded, knowingly. I shuddered to think of what he’d done to Michael and Fritz. Diego continued. “Still no sign of the girl. I’m sure the elements have gotten to her by now. She’s useless to them.”

  “Everything’s going to be okay, honey,” my dad whispered to me. He smiled a half smile, his cut lip oozing more blood.

  “¡Cállate!” Caty exclaimed, raising her hand to hit him. But her hand halted in midair. My dad flinched, waiting for the blow that never came.

  “I still need some more information from you, mi amor.” Caty lowered her hand. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.

  “Diego. Get some towels. He’s bleeding all over my floor,” she snapped.

  Diego nodded, threw my dad roughly to the ground, and stepped out into the hall. My dad landed on his side and struggled to sit up. Caty withdrew a very small handgun, waving it in his face.

  “Don’t get any ideas, Jorge.”

  My dad smiled a wry grin and leaned back against the wall. He closed his eyes and sighed.

  “What information could you possibly need from me anymore, Caty. I’m not in the game. I know nothing.” He coughed, wincing in pain. “Your family killed my wife and tried to kill me.” He spat blood on the floor. Caty’s eyes darted to the small red pool. “Why would I help you now?”

  “I’m sure I can give you reason to.” She turned the gun toward me and released the safety. “You betrayed us,” she hissed at him. “We treated you like la familia. Uncle Izzy loved you.” Though she spoke to him, her eyes bore down on me, the gun in her hand never wavering.

  “Izzy wanted out, Caty. He wanted to clear his family’s name. He came to me—”

  “No! You are lying!” She shot the gun, the bullet missing my shoulder by a fraction of an inch.

  I screamed and jumped back. My heart hammered out of control. That bitch just tried to shoot me!

  “Caty, what are you doing?” my dad yelled. Somehow, he had pushed himself to a standing position. With a look of pure determination in his eyes, he lowered his shoulder and barreled toward her.

  She turned to aim at him, and I ran in, forcing her hands toward the ceiling just as he reached her. The gun went off a second time, shattering a light bulb. Shards of glass rained down on us as we all tumbled to the ground. The gun flew out of reach and I wrestled with Caty to keep her from crawling after it. My dad used his weight to keep her down. With his hands tied behind his back, it was his only defense.

  “Get the gun, Emily!” he shouted. He reached out for it with his foot.

  “Diego! Tank!” Caty screamed. Her fingernails scratched at my face as I tried to muffle her screams. I heard loud footsteps pounding down the hallway, and soon the door was thrown open.

  “¡Señora!” Diego yelled, out of breath, when he saw Caty on the floor. He raised his gun to the ceiling and shot off a round of ammo. The rat-a-tat-tat of the semiautomatic’s bullets pounded in my ears. We all instinctively stopped moving.

  “Get off her!” Diego commanded. His face was a combination of excitement and fury, as if this kind of violence thrilled him.

  My chest heaved, and I slowly climbed off, releasing Caty’s arms. Sweat rolled into my eyes from the exertion of the brief encounter. My dad rolled onto his side, his eyes still pinned on hers.

  “Vete a la mierda,” Caty cursed at me as she struggled to breathe. Go to hell. Diego ran to her, helping her sit upright. She had been cut in the fall, and blood trickled down her cheek. Diego reached toward her face, but she swatted him away.

  “Cabrón,” she again directed at my dad. She spat at him, narrowly missing his face. “This family gave you so much.”

  Caty stood up and walked over to where her gun was lying on the floor. By my calculations, based on credible cinematic examples such as the movie “Clue”, I guessed there were maybe three bullets left. Or five? Could different handguns hold varying amounts of bullets? Who the hell knew?

  “And you betrayed us,” Caty continued.

  My mind continued to race. Diego probably had three hundred bullets in his magazine. I really had no idea. So Caty’s bullets were inconsequential. The odds were not looking good. And dammit, I had to pee! I tried to put that out of my mind and focus on the life and death situation instead.

  Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I remained quiet. But Caty picked up the gun and pointed it at me. So much for becoming invisible.

  “Next time I won’t miss.” She gave my dad a wicked smile and waited a beat, wiping the sweat from her brow and in the process, smearing the blood on her cheek. Her normally straight, sleek and beautiful hair was a mess. The put-together woman now looked like the crazed lunatic she really was.

  “You turned on us,” she spat out. “You betrayed us. You’d never come over to our side after all. Uncle Izzy was a kind soul, and you used him to learn all about the business so you could ruin us. So you could—what, win some kind of award? ‘Special Agent of the Year?’”

  My dad scoffed at her. “More like so I could do my job. So I could take down a multibillion-dollar cartel and play just a little part in the war against drugs.”

  “Emily,” my dad looked at me, begging me with his eyes to believe him. “I was never a double agent. I became part of a special task force with the DEA and the Mexican police. After years of getting nowhere with the Morales cartel, we decided on a new approach.” He looked at Caty and glared. “An approach that would sacrifice my good name.”

  Caty cursed and backhanded my dad, hurting her own hand in the process. He didn’t miss a beat and kept talking.

  “It was decided that I’d play the role of a fallen agent. That I’d come to their side so I could learn everything about them in hopes of turning someone at the top. But we knew we had a mole at the agency, so only a handful of people knew the full story. We had to keep everything under a cone of silence for the mission to be successful.”

  Was that why some of the file was still redacted? Because of the mole, and the fact that not everyone at the FBI was privy to what was really going on?

  “I was able to turn the elder Izzy. The Morales family is his mother’s, and he said it was time to get out.”

  “You shamed my grandmother and her legacy!” Caty spat, shaking her bruised hand.

  �
�Izzy said he wanted to bring peace to the family!” my dad yelled.

  “Ha! Peace? Instead, he brought about his own death!”

  “You!” my dad hissed. “You killed Izzy?”

  “For the last time,” Caty screamed, “I am Izzy!” Her voice echoed in the room, followed by deafening silence. Caty’s face was filled with righteous fury. The gun shook in her hands, still aimed at my chest.

  My dad dropped his head. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

  “You tried to have us killed, it wasn’t him after all.” He sighed heavily. “I knew in my heart it wasn’t him.” He paused and looked at Caty. The silence was deafening. “You’ll never be the leader Izzy was.”

  And then I heard it. The unmistakable click of the hammer being cocked. I immediately reacted to what I knew was inevitable. Jumping back, I looked down at my chest and waited for the burst of pain. But no shot ever came. My head shot up to see Caty shaking the gun, slamming it against the wall. Click. Again, nothing.

  “¿Señora?” Diego questioned, his trigger finger at the ready on the semiautomatic.

  Caty’s arm shot up and she grabbed his gun, aiming it at my dad.

  “No!” I screamed, launching myself at her. The gun fired. Bullets sprayed around the room, obliterating everything in their path.

  From the opposite side of the room, I heard the unmistakable sound of shattering glass and swung my head around as I landed on top of Caty. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. As my breath caught in my throat, two figures dressed all in black came crashing through the windows, Special Ops style.

  ●CHAPTER 31●

  “DEA! NOBODY MOVE! Hands where I can see them!” the bigger one roared in a deep voice. The two landed heavily just inside the room, dressed in combat gear complete with guns, ammo, night vision goggles, body armor, and helmets. Diego attempted to lift his gun from underneath Caty, only to get shot in the arm. He cursed and dropped the weapon.

  “I’m a federal agent!” my dad yelled out. “Don’t shoot!”

  “Then don’t move,” the smaller one ordered. A female, from the sound of it. In all of their gear, it was impossible to tell who was what.

  The two unhooked themselves from their rappelling gear and walked farther into the room, guns drawn. The bigger one secured the semiautomatic, frisked Diego, and roughly placed him in handcuffs.

  “She’s got a handgun too,” I said, nodding my head at Caty, my voice shaking. I kept my hands in the air as ordered. Relief flooded through me as I realized we might finally be safe.

  “Bitch,” Caty muttered under her breath.

  The smaller DEA agent squatted down, jabbed a knee into Caty’s back, frisked her, and secured the handgun.

  “Catriona Isaguirre,” she said, “you are under arrest for the murder of Elizabeth Potens, a litany of drug trafficking charges which I’ll let the US Attorney explain later, attempted murder, and false imprisonment. Oh, and the Mexican government wants to speak to you too.” She looked at her partner as she swung Caty around to face her. “Am I missing anything?” The agent’s voice sounded a bit familiar, but I couldn’t place it. It almost had a Boston twang to it. Had I met her before? Doubtful. Most likely the adrenaline coursing through my veins was making me hear things differently.

  “George Potens?” she said, turning to my dad.

  “Yes?”

  The woman removed her night vision goggles and slowly began to take her helmet off, revealing sleek blonde hair tied in a low bun. Her back was to me, and she turned my dad around to untie his hands.

  “Do I know you?” my dad asked.

  “Nope,” she said, “but I know all about you. And her.” The agent tipped her head toward me.

  She turned around where I could see her face, and my eyes grew wide. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Savannah! Big-haired, big-boobed Savannah was a Special Ops DEA agent? Gone was the makeup. Gone was the big hair. Gone was the Texas accent!

  I struggled to find words. My head swung over to her partner as he removed his goggles and helmet. Dirk walked purposefully toward me, dragging Diego with him before depositing him on the floor with Caty.

  “How ya doing, Emily?” he asked with a wink. I stared at him with my mouth hanging open.

  “Big G,” he said, grabbing my dad in a hug.

  Big G? Those two knew each other?

  “Oh, Dirk, you are a sight for sore eyes,” my dad said. They patted each other twice on the back in typical man-hug fashion. My dad looked up at Dirk and furrowed his brow.

  “You were following Emily, weren’t you? You were at the wedding.”

  Dirk shrugged. “I may have been in attendance, inconspicuously, hovering somewhere in the background, hoping you’d show your face.” He lowered his head. “She was beautiful, by the way,” he whispered.

  My dad nodded, a look of regret in his eyes.

  Dirk had been the one at the wedding? Was he the one who gave Father the note? Why?

  So many questions ran through my head. How did they know we were here? How did they know the exact room we were in? And where were Michael, Fritz, and Darcy? After all, Marco was still somewhere out there with a gun, as well as Tank. No telling who else Caty had brought up with her. I shook myself out of my stupor and found my voice.

  “I hate to break up this reunion,” I said forcefully, “but we have to find everyone else. Michael, Fritz, and Darcy are still in danger.”

  “Roger that,” Dirk said as he and Savannah tied Diego and Caty together, back to back on the floor. “You wanna stay with these two?” he asked Savannah. “I’ll scout out the rest of the house?”

  “I’m coming with you!” I insisted. I couldn’t sit around anymore, unsure whether my husband was still alive. I was jumping out of my skin.

  I ran to the door and flung it open, just as Dirk yelled at me to wait. Turning down the hall, I ran smack into a solid belly. Dammit! Tank! I recoiled and tried to yank myself out of his grasp, but he refused to let go.

  “Emily. Emily!”

  I looked up and the air rushed out of my lungs. The face that looked down at me was Michael’s, not Tank’s. Darcy immediately followed, with Fritz slowly bringing up the rear. Relief coursed through my body as I collapsed into his arms.

  ●CHAPTER 32●

  THE SUN WAS RISING, creating an almost blinding scene up on the mountaintop that morning. The orange rays shone brightly and the snowy landscape sparkled. The beauty was in contrast to the remainder of the scene—police cruisers parked willy nilly, lights flashing, walkie talkies screeching, a dozen law enforcement officers walking to and from the house.

  Agencies of all sorts flooded the property. DEA, FBI, the local PD. Caty, Tank, and Diego were taken into custody immediately. Marco, upon encountering an angry Darcy in the barn with the Ruger, had already fled the scene.

  We were interrogated for hours. My dad was separated from the rest of us. The FBI was eager to get their hands on him, wanting to know just what he’d been doing for the last eighteen months. They weren’t the only ones. Dirk did make sure to stay by his side as much as he could.

  While the current and former federal agents were all being questioned and debriefed, Darcy, Fritz, Michael and I filled each other in on what had gone one while we were separated. We sat in the sun-filled chef’s kitchen, each of us nursing a large cup of coffee while Fritz rooted around in the fridge and cupboards for food. Coming up with eggs, sausage, peppers, and potatoes, he set about making us a delicious hash. Of course, I was so hungry, anything would have sounded delicious at that point.

  I wolfed down my plate and went to get more, beating both Fritz and Michael to seconds. Darcy, of course, only had one plate full. Now that my belly was leaning toward full and I was no longer hangry, I started peppering Darcy with questions. It turns out she had escaped the room unscathed and headed for the barn, where she found the SUV. Opting for quiet over speed, she chose the bandito method and took off on a horse instead. Upon reaching the abandoned mining road, she was
nearly run over by Dirk and Savannah, who had apparently placed a tracking device on my phone and a listening device in my purse.

  They had followed Michael and me from California after breaking into our house and figuring out our honeymoon location. Dirk was certain I knew my dad was still alive and had tried to bait me with the note at the wedding, hoping I’d make contact. At the resort, they’d commandeered a room from a guest, paying him handsomely for his silence, so that they could keep an eye on my every move. It turned out Dirk had taken my phone the night I thought I had lost it and placed the tracking device on it. They’d followed us up that trail the next day, thinking I had set up a secret meeting with my dad. Since that didn’t happen, Savannah had then dropped a listening device into my purse when chatting with me the following morning at the spa.

  On one hand, I was irritated that I’d been so easily compromised. Bugged and tracked without a clue? On my honeymoon, no less? My God, what had they heard?! On the other hand, I was thankful. Their tracking had saved our lives. But still, it was difficult for me to look either of them in the eye. No wonder Dirk kept winking at me.

  When Darcy had run into them on the road, they knew there was trouble, her being out on horseback in the middle of a snowstorm and all. The two of them identified themselves as federal agents, which relieved her to no end. She told them what was going on and where we were. They told her to head back to the barn and stay there. She did go to the barn, but only to return the horse, with no intention of staying. Before she could head to the house, she was surprised by Marco, who had been sent out to find her. She pulled the Ruger on him and told him she knew how to use it. Startled but apparently not too upset, he didn’t put up a fight and instead took Caty’s Hummer and drove off the property.

  “He kept saying, ‘Chingate, cabrón.’ I really think he was thanking me,” Darcy insisted. I didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise.

  After Marco drove off, Darcy made her way back to the house and, through a window, witnessed Fritz and Michael being held by Tank. They’d been tied to chairs, back to back, arms wrapped behind them. Tank had apparently partaken of the same tequila as Diego and had fallen asleep, lucky for them. Darcy snuck in and quietly untied the guys, but not before he awakened. Michael dove for his knees, taking him down, and Fritz sat on him, rendering him immobile.