by Loren, Celia
I stand up, leaving William with his mouth hanging open. I make eye contact with Carter and give a quick nod to the door. He catches up with me as I pass the hostess stand.
"Well?" he asks.
"I got the information. And broke up with him. Really quite an efficient use of time."
"So what did he say?"
"Give me a second. I have to straighten it all out in my brain." I close my eyes as we take the elevator down to the basement garage. Carter remains silent, letting me make the connections I need to. As he starts the car engine, I quickly google Tampico, then turn to him and place my hands in my lap.
"OK, here's what I think is going on. Burke was shipping into ports on the Western coast of Mexico, which is largely controlled by a cartel called El Nuevo Muerto, though another one called the Arana Federation is making inroads. El Nuevo Muerto demands a tariff of the companies that ship into the ports they control, which can reach into the millions of dollars. My father was tired of paying them, so he started giving support, money I assume, to the Arana Federation, on the condition that if they gained control of the ports, Burke Shipping wouldn't have to pay a tariff."
"And the Arana Federation got control, and now your father is saving the company millions."
"Except he did it by making an enemy of El Nuevo Muerto, which is why he's been stepping up security."
Carter takes a deep breath. "So your father got in the middle of a war between two Mexican cartels to save some money."
"To save millions of dollars," I point out. "Though since he's already worth billions, it hardly seems worth it. And there's one more thing."
"I don't know if I can take anything else."
"William said El Nuevo Muerto has a habit of going after their enemies' children."
"So we were right about Bree...it wasn't an accident," he mutters, his jaw muscles twitching with tension.
"I'm sorry I ever doubted you. Maybe it was just easier to believe that it was all in your head rather than seeing that there really was a specific threat. But it must have made you feel crazy."
"It's alright. Part of me hoped I was crazy because that would mean you weren't in any real danger."
"So what do we do now?" I ask.
"We have to tell my mom, and Bree and Jack, what's going on. They have to know so that they can protect themselves better, and maybe change your father's mind, convince him that the money's not worth it."
"He'll be furious," I point out. "I'm sure he's kept this a secret within the family because he doesn't want your mom to know he has this cutthroat side to him. Not to mention the extremely dim view the U.S. government would take of his actions. We need to have some solid evidence so he can't just wriggle out of it."
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asks grimly.
"The tape."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
"I just wish it weren't Roger working," I say, chewing anxiously on a hangnail.
"Why?" Carter asks through the door.
"He's the nicest one and I feel bad tricking him."
"If I had a quarter for every time one of my fellow Marines said that," Carter replies sarcastically.
"Shut up!" I retort, punching him in the arm. "OK, I'm ready," I say, tying a towel around my waist and walking out into my room. Carter is sitting in one of my armchairs and looks up with a smile. "You've seen me in a bikini top before," I say, blushing.
"I've seen you in less than that. Doesn't mean I don't still enjoy it."
"Aren't you nervous at all?" I ask, crossing my arms.
"The worst that happens here is I get fired. That’s pretty low-stakes for me, comparatively." He stands and claps his hands together. "So, after you lie down, wait five minutes. If he comes back before you get my text—"
"Stall him. What if someone comes back to the office while you're in there?"
"They take their breaks at the same time every day, despite the fact that I told them how idiotic that was. Makes it so much easier for someone to break in."
"Someone like you."
"Exactly," he says with a smile. My insides contract even though we're in the middle of some serious business. I just can't help my body's reaction to him. He turns and walks down the steps of the boat house. I wait a couple minutes, then grab my book and head down to the pool.
I lay down on the lounge chair nearest to the security center and open my book. We waited until the rest of the family was out and only Roger was in the center so that he'd have to leave it empty. I glance at my phone, noting the time, and glance down at the page in front of me.
There's no chance I'll actually be able to read, but I do turn the page so that it looks like I am. It seems crazy to believe that I could actually be in danger, with the pool shimmering in front of me, and the palms blowing gently in the breeze from the ocean. But, the evidence of a real threat is all around me in my father's stepped-up security.
He never could be satisfied with anything. Burke already makes billions in revenue. He could have just payed the tariff or decided not to ship to those Mexican ports at all. That probably would have been the wisest, and most moral decision, avoiding giving any money to a vicious cartel. But he probably couldn't stand the thought of any of his competitors getting in on his business. I'm sure he was able to rationalize funding a cartel until it seemed like just another savvy business decision.
Lost in thought, I almost let five minutes slip past. I glance down at my watch. It's time. I take in a deep breath, then let it out in a blood-curdling scream.
I actually startle myself with the amount of noise I make, and my shock as I scramble to my feet is real. I look furtively back to the house. Do I need to scream again? No, here's Roger, hurtling out of the side door. My eyes widen as I see that he's brandishing a gun, and I shrink back instinctively.
"I saw a man in a mask, peering over the terrace there," I say, pointing to the side of the backyard near the ocean.
"Get inside and call Carter," Roger orders me, then takes out a walkie-talkie. He speaks quickly into it as he hustles in the direction I pointed in.
I pick up my phone and move toward the house, not wanting to go all the way inside in case I need to intercept Roger on his way back. I huddle by the kitchen door. No text from Carter yet. I peer toward the ocean. One of the security boats has cruised in closer to the shore, though I can no longer see where Roger is. I glance back toward the end of the house. No sign of Carter or a text on my phone from him.
Roger's head breaks the top of the terrace as he makes his way back toward the house. Shit. He can't go back into the security center and find Carter there. I walk slowly out to meet him, thinking of all the things that scare me until I'm actually trembling.
"No sign of him. You're sure—" he begins. I throw myself on him with a wail.
"Oh god, I was so scared," I weep. "I thought I was going to die!"
He places an awkward hand on my back. "Everything's OK, now," he murmurs stiffly.
"What if he comes back? There was something so sinister about him, I could feel it!"
"Have you been drinking at all today?"
"No!" I retort sharply, yanking my head back, before I remember I'm supposed to be traumatized. "I mean, no, I haven't. But I guess it's possible that all the extra security around lately has made me jumpy. Roger, promise you'll protect me!" That last line was probably overkill, but Roger seems to be genuinely touched.
"Of course I will. You have nothing to worry about, Ms. Stratton." I hear my phone beep with an incoming text. Carter.
I lean away from Roger and sniffle, wiping at my eyes as though I've been crying. "Thank you so much, Roger. That really means a lot to me." I feel a pang of guilt at my deception. "You're such a kind man," I add.
He clears his throat uncomfortably. "Well, I better get back."
"Everything OK out here?" Carter says as he comes sprinting around the side of the house. "I was doing a check of the neighborhood and heard you on the walkie-talkie."
"Everyth
ing's fine," Roger confirms.
"I probably just let my imagination run away with me," I add, smiling weakly. "So silly of me. Sorry to waste all of your time."
"Well, just be a little more careful next time," Carter says gruffly.
"I said I was sorry," I reply. "I'm going back to my bedroom to lie down. Carter, please bring me a glass of water. I feel I'm getting dehydrated," I say archly.
Carter glares at me, and I almost smile. It's a bit fun to order him around, even if we're only playacting. I turn on my heel as though I'm in a huff and quickly make it back to my room. I sit on the edge of my bed, playing with a string coming off the edge of my towel. I hope Carter got what we needed, though at least we didn't get caught. A few minutes later, I hear the boat house door open and his footsteps on the stairs.
"Your water, madame," he says with a small bow, presenting me with a glass of ice water.
"Thank you. I actually am thirsty," I say, taking a long sip. "You find anything?"
With a grin, Carter produces a thumb drive from his pocket. "I think this should be it. Let's see," he says, turning to my laptop. He slips it into the USB port and scrolls through several files. "There, that's the date that Bree was injured," he says, clicking on the nondescript file.
A Quicktime window pops up and I lean down next to him. The image is black and white, but surprisingly clear, and shows four different views of the neighborhood at once. Three are of the street, and one is of the security entrance. Even before my father upgraded all the security, the neighborhood association didn't scrimp on safety issues. There's no sign of Bree, but Carter pauses the film.
"See this car? It was let into the front gate five minutes ago but is still just driving around. It has the decal to get it past security, but it seems odd." He presses play again, and soon a young woman appears in the corner of a screen. She has a hat on, but it looks like it could be Bree.
"Look!" I gasp, pointing as the car turns so that it's following Bree. I feel Carter tense beside me as the car speeds up, and Bree glances behind her. She jumps out of the way as the car guns its engine toward her, and we can just see her limp body in the corner of the screen as she lies on the side of the road. "So the car didn't hit her."
"Wait," Carter says, pointing to the passenger side of the car. A short man gets out and hurries to Bree's inert body, keeping his head tucked low. He reaches his arm behind him and stops as he looks down at her, then turns and appears to say something to the driver. Then he hurries back to the car and it peels out. A moment later, it's pulling back out of the security gate.
"I'm confused," I admit. "Why'd they just run her off the road?" Carter doesn't answer, but rewinds the tape to the moment just before the car speeds up. We watch again as the man comes around the side of the vehicle. Carter pauses it as he reaches his right arm behind his back.
"He looks sort of familiar..." I murmur, leaning close to the screen. The image isn't quite crisp enough to jog my memory. "You know, I think he's just got one of those faces, doesn't he? The kind that just blends in. And maybe this sounds stupid, but I thought we were looking for someone Mexican."
"El Nuevo Muerto wouldn't send one of their own up to a country where he wouldn't even be a native speaker. He'd stick out like a sore thumb. I'm sure they outsourced it to someone local. I bet with your father's connections, he knows someone in law enforcement, and I might be able to run this image through their databases, see if I can get a name."
"Not that he'd let you use those connections," I point out. "We're not supposed to know anything about this." I turn back to the screen. "Why's he reaching behind himself like that?"
"He's going for his gun. I'd recognize that move anywhere," he says grimly.
"So why doesn't he use it?"
"I don't know... it looks like he's studying her, doesn't it?" he asks, playing the next few seconds of the tape.
"She's wearing a hat," I murmur, a sinking feeling in my stomach. "And they came up from behind her. So maybe they thought she was someone else, and then they realized that they had the wrong person."
Carter looks up at me. "William said El Nuevo Muerto targets their enemies' children...Bree had just moved in to the house, so they probably had no idea who she was. So maybe they were actually looking for—"
"Me," I say, completing his thought. "They were looking for me."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
"I just want you to be sure."
"I am sure. Are you?" I answer, looking frankly up at Carter's bright green eyes. Working with him lately has made it even more difficult to resist him.
"You know I am, but you have more to lose than me."
"They deserve to know why all this security has been following them. Maybe only Jack and I are directly in danger, but Bree has already been collateral damage. Who knows what could happen next?"
Carter nods just as Bree bounces into the room. "What's up? Is this a family meeting, like they have on sitcoms?"
"Something like that," I answer.
"Nothing like that," Carter counters, and I can't help but smile. Jack walks in a moment later, and takes a seat across the room from Bree. Carter still doesn't know about their relationship, so they're still taking pains to hide it. Anne breezes in as he sits, and Carter moves behind her to close the door to the den.
Before I can get a word out, Anne takes a deep breath. "If this is about you two, just say it. We'll manage to work it out somehow."
I blink in confusion and alarm. "Wait, what?"
"If you and Carter are...you know...just tell me."
"Oh, no!" I respond. "No. No, no. That's not what this is about." Though of course she's not entirely off base. Bree and Jack both cover their mouths to keep from laughing as Anne turns bright purple.
"I'm sorry!" she exclaims. "I thought I sensed something...I don't know. Oh, jeez, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"No, no, it's alright," I hasten to interrupt. "It's actually about something entirely different. It's about all the security." I glance at Carter and he gives me a nod. "I know my father said that there was no specific threat, but actually that's not true. He's been secretly funding a Mexican cartel so that they could gain control over ports on the country's Western coast and then allow Burke Shipping free access."
To my surprise, Anne bursts out laughing, then glances around the room. "Wait, are you being serious? That's insane!"
"Companies have been getting involved in armed conflicts for decades, if not centuries, Mom, supporting the side that will benefit them the most financially," Carter breaks in somberly. Anne's face pales and she glances back to me. I take a deep breath, grateful for Carter's support, and continue.
"The problem, besides the legal and ethical concerns of course, is that the other cartel is now royally pissed off, and has a habit of going after their enemies' children as retribution. Right now, their enemy is Burke Shipping, our father is its face, and that makes us the target," I say, turning to Jack.
"That is quite an accusation," Jack says evenly.
"I know. I think you should all see this," I say, bending down to press play on my computer, which I left sitting open on the coffee table. The tape of Bree's accident plays and I hear her gasp as she recognizes herself in the images.
"I didn't know there was a tape," she murmurs quietly.
"It was being kept hidden," Carter tells her.
"So you didn't just trip...and that man just left her there," Anne says. "Why would they do that?"
"Because...because..." Bree responds airily, then closes her eyes. A slight frown creases her forehead, and I can see she's struggling to remember something. I glance at Jack. He looks strained, watching his girlfriend dredge up painful memories while he can't do anything to help her. She opens her eyes. "The car did that on purpose. I remember it...and then I hit my head when I dove off the road, and the man came up, and he said something. 'It's not her,' he said."
"Who?" Anne asks.
"Alexa," Carter tells her. "They are specifically t
argeting Jack and Alexa, and saw a young woman leaving the house, and mistook Bree for Alexa until they were up close. That's why they didn't shoot her."
"Shoot her?" Jack exclaims, nearly jumping out of his chair.
"See the way he reaches behind him, into his waistband?" Carter says, rewinding the tape. "He's going for a gun."
Anne stands abruptly. "No, no. This is too much. I just can't...Bree, do you believe all this?"
Bree pauses, then looks across the table to Jack. "You and Alexa know your father best. What do you think?"
Jack leans back in his chair. "I know my father and Alexa have had their problems, but my little sister is probably the smartest person I know. Smarter than our father, even. If she says this is what's going on, then I believe her."
"Jack...thank you," I breathe, touched beyond words by his vote of confidence.
"And...I've been getting some letters. I've always gotten threats, but these are more specific, and mentioning Burke and Dad...Now I'm sorry I didn't mention them before, but I didn't want anyone to worry."
"Ray wouldn't do something like this! He wouldn't put you in danger," Anne argues. I watch as a storm of emotions flits across her face as she struggles to understand this new information about the man to whom she's engaged. "You don't see him like I do. When we're alone, he's so tender, so loving, and proud of his children, both of you!"
"Mom, no one is arguing he doesn't love you," Carter says gently. "But he has put his children in danger. And you, and your children."
"What exactly do you expect me to do here?" Anne counters. "There's a story, some letters, and a tape, and a man who reaches behind him for something we can't see. What do you expect me to do?"
I clear my throat. "Well, we thought if we could all talk to him together, tell him we don't feel safe, maybe he would reconsider the deal. With a substantial payoff, maybe the cartel would—"
"No. I won't be any part of this. I can't believe you would all turn against him. After all he's done for you. Carter, he saved your life, for god's sake!" she says, turning to her eldest.
