High Stakes

by Pierce, Nicolette

  “Give it a try.”

  I had never seen a memory card like this one before. But I wasn’t computer-savvy either. I turned on the laptop and searched for a spot to stick the memory card. A little slot on the side allowed the card to slip in and lock in place.

  “Oh, no,” Mya whispered. “There’s a password lock on the computer. Do you know his password?”

  “No, but we could try a few.”

  “Try his favorite food,” she suggested.

  “I don’t know him well. I don’t know what he likes.”

  “He likes you,” she said.

  “I’m not his password.”

  “Just try.”

  I rolled my eyes and typed Nadia into the password field and hit enter.

  “Nope, it didn’t work.”

  “Keep trying. He has several pet names for you.”

  “I don’t think he would use any of those.”

  “Just try.”

  I typed in “poker goddess,” “my queen,” “poker queen,” “little poker chip,” “Nadia Wolf”. Nothing happened.

  “Try ‘poker princess,’” she said. “I heard him call you that one time.”

  I typed it in and hit enter, crossing my fingers that he didn’t use something so ridiculously sappy—Not that his attention to me was as unwanted now as it had been previously. Without his goofy poker-goddess worshipping, he was nearly normal.

  “That didn’t work either,” Mya said. “I thought for sure it would.”

  “I think I might know.”

  I typed in “Terminator” and hit enter. The desktop popped up, allowing me to search for the drive the card was in.

  “Here it is,” I said, clicking the drive to open it.

  There was only one file on the memory card, but the file name was in numbers and of no help to further my investigation. I double clicked to open the file.

  “What’s that?” Mya asked as the file opened.

  “I don’t know. It’s some sort of grid or code.”

  I studied the grid to try to make sense out of it. There were dashes all through it with some letters at the bottom.

  “This is useless,” I huffed. “I assumed it would help me figure out why everyone wants it; I’m more confused.” No amount of staring and puzzling over it enlightened me.

  Someone would eventually confiscate the memory card, but I didn’t know who. Before I slipped the memory card out of the slot, I sent myself an email with a copy of the file. That way, I’d be able to give the information to David no matter what. I smiled at my brilliance.

  There was a knock on the front door. The door wasn’t fully closed due to Muffin’s wreckage, and I could see a pizza delivery man through the crack. Mya ran to let him in.

  “Is that my pizza?” Muffin hollered from the bedroom. “Bring it here. I’m starving from the surveillance work you’re making me do.”

  “You wanted to do it because the room had a bed,” I hollered back.

  “Yes, but now my pizza is here. I need a break.”

  “Hang on,” I said.

  Mya paid the delivery driver while I carried the pizza to the bedroom and set it on the bed next to Muffin.

  “How can you see out the window when you’re lying down?” I asked.

  “I sit up and check every few minutes.”

  “It only takes a second to drive by. You could have missed them.”

  Muffin shrugged and ripped into the pizza box.

  Hoping Sergio would come home soon, I stood by the window and peered down. The window was the perfect spot to get a wide view of the parking lot and building entrance. I hoped we hadn’t missed anything.

  It was late, and the sun was setting rapidly. I sighed and rested my forehead on the window. So much had happened today. Only twenty-four hours ago I was surrounded by a hugging line. Now I’m running from the cartel. I puzzled at how I was ever going to dig myself out of this hole when I kept digging myself deeper.

  My back stiffened as three black SUVs turned into the parking lot and pull in front of the building.

  “Muffin, three black SUVs just pulled up.”

  Muffin squeezed next to me and pressed her head against the window. We watched as the middle SUV’s rear door opened, letting out a passenger. The man said something, maybe an order, and disappeared through the front of the building. The three vehicles drove away.

  “W-was th-that . . . ?” I stuttered.

  “Yeah, that’s your man, Sergio. Dude is on the wrong side of the law,” she said.

  Chapter 19

  “We’re in Sergio’s apartment, and he’s on his way up! What do we do?” I panicked.

  I flew out of the bedroom and into the living room.

  “We have to leave,” I said.

  I wrenched open the front door, motioning for Mya to follow.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Sergio’s part of the cartel,” I said.

  We ran into the hallway. Muffin followed behind with her pizza box.

  “Let’s use the stairs,” I said, scurrying as fast as my legs would carry me.

  Sergio would most likely take the elevator. If we did too, we would end up running into him. I flung the staircase door open. Crap! I immediately spotted the top of Sergio’s head. He was running up the stairs and rounding the corner.

  “Nadia!” he shouted.

  “Shit!” I retreated through the door and into the hallway, taking Mya with me. There was no way we could wait for the elevator with Sergio nearing our floor. “We have to barricade ourselves in his apartment.”

  We hustled to the apartment and secured the door as best as we could. Muffin gave the door one last thump with her fist and knocked it into place.

  “Find something to block the door with,” I said, searching for something big and heavy to wedge into place. “He doesn’t have anything in his apartment. Get the bed.”

  “I got this” Muffin said, plopping herself down in front of the door.

  The doorknob turned. My eyes glued to the knob, waiting for it to turn again. Sergio knocked.

  “Open the door,” he ordered.

  “Mya, call the police,” I said loud enough for Sergio to hear.

  “I can shoot my way inside and kill you before the police arrive,” Sergio said.

  Muffin gulped down a bite of pizza. “I didn’t sign up for this! I don’t want any part of shooting or police. You guys are all crazy. Who goes around finding a secret trophy and having shootouts with the mafia? You do!”

  “We’re not the mafia,” Sergio countered. “The mafia is Italian.”

  “You’re not helping,” I barked.

  “I’m outta here,” Muffin said. “I have my new life and husband to think about. I can’t get mixed up in this.”

  “Your fake husband, you mean.”

  “I’ve decided to keep him; he’s clean, I’ll have my own apartment, he has a steady stream of money coming in, and he’s not all up in my business.”

  “And he likes men,” I argued.

  “All the better for me. I don’t need no man chasing me around the bedroom, gropin’ me all over.”

  “Can you argue later?” Sergio growled. “Let me in and I can explain everything.”

  “Explain what?” Muffin snipped. “How you used Nadia to steal the trophy? How you broke her heart? How you have gun-toting friends who shot bullets at her?”

  My jaw dropped open so wide a softball could have been wedged into my mouth. Broke my heart? That was off the mark. I was a little wounded from thinking he was harmless to then finding he was anything but harmless. Just like a man to pretend he’s something that he’s not.

  “She was completely safe. They have orders not to harm her. They got a little excited when you blew through the barricade.”

  “Did you see the bullet holes in the car?” Muffin argued. “So, now you’re the big shot in the mafia? Are you the Godfather?”

  “We aren’t the mafia. Do I look like a Godfather?”

&
nbsp; “Then who are you?” I asked.

  “Please, let me explain face to face.”

  I felt a small tug on my arm. Mya was ogling me with her large doe eyes. “Hear him out. I believe he won’t hurt you.”

  “But he was in the black SUV. He’s one of them.”

  “I was one of them,” he said through the door. “I had to be. It was because of you that I returned to them again. I know you’ve seen too many sides of me to understand the real me, but those were for show. When I hugged you by the moped today, that was the real me.”

  “Awwww!” Mya gushed and bounced in place. “Let him in.”

  Teetering on whether to let him in, a new concern was developing. Where was David? Did the cartel capture him?

  “Where’s . . . D?” I asked, not wanting to say David’s name.

  “He was at the abandoned office building watching from the inside. He’s waiting for my call.”

  He must have been the person in the building I kept hearing. Now it made sense why he was keeping a low profile—Mya had been there. If David trusted Sergio enough to risk his wife’s life, then maybe I should trust Sergio too . . . maybe.

  “Where’s Dagor?”

  “He ran for it once he couldn’t use you as a shield anymore. His only bargaining chip was smashed on the ground.”

  “Muffin, let him in,” I said.

  Mya bounced in her spot while Muffin moved over and yanked the door open. Sergio stepped through and closed the door.

  “Call D,” I demanded.

  Sergio eyed me as he pulled out his phone. His face was unreadable. There was no sign of any emotion, just blank . . . empty. I shivered.

  “Hey, it’s Sergio. Yeah, I’m here. Did you find Dagor?”

  I watched as he paced, his eyes catching mine on every pass.

  “They’re here,” he said. “Yeah, her too.”

  “I want to speak with him.”

  “Nadia wants to speak with you,” Sergio said, handing me the phone.

  I pressed it to my ear. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “There’s a lot going on right now,” David said. Hearing his voice instantly relaxed me. “You always seem to be right in the middle.”

  “That’s your fault. Are you coming over here?”

  “I’ll be around, but I won’t come inside. Keep Mya in the apartment until I can find Dagor.”

  “Am I supposed to trust Sergio?” I asked David. Sergio glanced warily at me.

  “We’re teaming up for now. Until I find what I came for, I’m focusing on that. Did you happen to see anything when the trophy was smashed?”

  “Yes,” I said, not wanting to give too much information over the cell phone. David might trust Sergio, but I wasn’t sure. And he could have his cell phone bugged. I didn’t want information leaking out and compromising an already compromising situation.

  David paused a moment. “Do you have it?”

  “Yes.”

  “In a few minutes, tell Sergio you need to stop by the corner store. He’s going to want to come with you. Make sure he doesn’t. Meet me there.”

  “But . . .” I listened to David disconnect. He said to trust Sergio, but now he’s telling me to sneak out of the apartment.

  “What’s wrong?” Sergio asked.

  “Mixed signals,” I said, handing him back his phone.

  “Meaning?”

  “I’m still not sure if I trust you,” I said.

  “If I was going to harm you, I would have done it as soon as I walked through the door,” he said, shoving the phone back into his pocket.

  I shrugged. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Dav . . . D is keeping his eye out for Dagor. My guys are searching the debris and scouting for the French guy and Catarina.”

  “Why do you want them?”

  “We don’t. However, we don’t want them getting in the way.”

  “He’s a government agent, isn’t he?”

  “From what D and I can figure out he’s an agent based in French Guiana. He may have gone rouge; he’s not acting right. Something happened to make him want the trophy beyond the call of duty.”

  “He was on tilt since the poker tournament.”

  “He was there?”

  “Yes. I had to play him and ended up knocking him out of the tournament. He wasn’t happy.”

  Sergio was thoughtful for a moment.

  “What’s the big secret?” I asked. “You know what it is. If I have to trust you, then you have to trust me.”

  “It doesn’t matter because it’s lost.”

  “It does matter because my life is still on the line.”

  Muffin chewed on a slice of pizza, eying Sergio. “I think that’s fair. You’ve got us all running around like crazy chickens, and we don’t even know why. Now we’re holed up in your apartment with no decent furniture. I want to know: What’s the big secret?”

  “I can’t tell you,” he said.

  Muffin tossed her pizza box onto the card table. She slammed Sergio up against the wall, pinning him with her forearm.

  “Muffin, stop that!” Mya scolded her.

  “No, I’m getting to the bottom of this. He can either tell us what he knows, or he can take a ride in an ambulance.”

  Sergio grasped at Muffin’s arm, struggling to free himself. He was no match for her. No one was a match for her.

  “I’ll tell you what I know,” he gasped.

  “All of it,” she demanded. “Don’t try to give us some lousy watered-down version.”

  “Okay,” he said, still struggling.

  He couldn’t win against Muffin’s brute strength, but I didn’t think he was going to tell us the whole story. Any information would be better than what I had now . . . nothing.

  Muffin released Sergio. He rubbed his chest where she’d pinned him.

  “Did you ever think of becoming a professional wrestler?” he asked.

  “I’ve been asked that before, but I don’t like their outfits. Start talking or I’ll show you my other moves.”

  Sergio smirked at her like she was just smoke in the air. I didn’t expect that reaction from him. But then again, I didn’t know what to expect from him.

  “It’s a long story,” he said.

  “So start talking,” she growled.

  He sighed and collected his thoughts. When he began, his eyes were far away, searching his past. “I was born into the Ortugas family in Colombia. I’m the second son born to Diego Marciano Ortugas. He was head of the family and the business.”

  “What business?” I asked.

  He winced. “It started as a drug ring, but they’ve expanded to prostitution and counterfeiting. Anything on the black market is fair game.” He surveyed me for any type of emotional feedback, but I didn’t let anything show. “My father was murdered, and my brother was first in line to take his place. This might be a horrible thing to say, because I loved my father, but I was glad he was gone. He ran the family business with a steel fist, and he hurt countless people. It’s a bloody and horrifying business, even on the inside.

  “When my brother took over, I requested to leave the family. No one is allowed to leave the business once they’ve been on the inside. There was no love between the two of us, so he was glad to see me leave; his spot as head of the household was secured. That, and my mother forbade him to kill me.”

  “Damn, it’s like a royal family and the mafia rolled into one,” Muffin said. “You don’t look like you came from a family like that.”

  “I cut all ties with the family years ago and was successful at keeping it that way until a couple of months ago.”

  “What about the family I met? Who were they?” I asked.

  “I met them a few years ago, and they adopted me into their family. They are very sweet. I wish I was related to them.”

  “Okay, now get on with the secret trophy part,” Muffin demanded.

  “From what I was told, my brother found a government agent spying on the business. He had h
im executed. He found out days later the agent had a partner who was still in town. My brother ordered a search to find him and execute him too. But the agent found my brother first and killed him. This was about six months ago.

  “There was a funeral service that I didn’t go to. I was shocked to hear his body had been stolen, which caused a family uprising. They ultimately buried an empty coffin. Two months ago we got wind my brother is alive. Samples of blood work with DNA evidence was uncovered and linked to him. It is believed he’s at a hospital undergoing massive reconstructive surgery. With my brother’s death, my cousin attempted to take over as head of the family. I didn’t care because I’d washed my hands of the family, but with this evidence comes a storm of problems.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “If my brother is alive, his return home will tear apart the family. Those who have already sided with my cousin will not be loyal to my brother. There will be a war within the family and many lives outside of our own family will be lost. There has been talk that he’s been hiding in French Guiana. If he’s alive, there are plenty of governments that want him extradited. They’ll take military action if they have to. Also, there are unfriendly drug families that want him dead and want my cousin to take over the family so they can join forces. To move forward, they must make sure he is dead.

  “At first, I was going ignore it. I didn’t want anything to do with the family. And the military or warring drug families could have him for all I cared. He ruled the family business with violent fury. But then my mom found me. She begged me to help. If my cousin took over, she would be executed and they would come for me next to make sure I wouldn’t threaten his power. So, here I am, back in the family business. I’ve rounded up those who are still loyal to my brother and my father before him.”

  “If your brother is alive, he must know what’s happening. Why is he keeping his existence a secret?”

  “So many people want him dead. I can only assume he’s buying time to form a plan.”

  “How did Dagor get involved?” I asked.

  “My cousin hired him. Since Dagor wasn’t part of the family, he could work without prying eyes. He had worked with them before on counterfeiting. Dagor came to me shortly after my mother found me. He didn’t know I was part of the Ortugas family and wanted my help finding you and obtaining the trophy. I took the job to keep him at bay and to protect you. It seems as if everything was pushing me to this one spot.”