by C. I. Lopez
Eva cried out, “Oh my God, it’s Yasmin, oh, dear Yasmin, why didn’t you call?”
Yasmin paused and turned.
Eva stood with tears running down her face. “Don’t be afraid, dear sister. Meet my husband, Santos Sosa, the detective who’s been looking for you since the accident.”
Coming back to her senses, Yasmin returned, hugged her sister and apologized to Santos for her reaction. The two young women held each other for a long time, tears pouring down their faces.
A friendly deep man’s voice said, “Why don’t you come in out of the cold. Let me help you with your bags.” Santos carried Yasmin’s duffel bag and her purse while the three of them walked into the house. Santos wondered why Yasmin traveled so light, but having some knowledge of her case, he had an idea that she might have left in a hurry.
Eva turned and held her husband’s hand affectionately. “Yasmin, Santos is an officer of the National Guard. We met when he came to give us the news that you were involved in an accident, and under those awful circumstances, we fell in love. He promised me he’d never stop looking for you, and he never did. He still carries a picture of you in his wallet, and as an advisor to the police department in town, he’s kept your case open all this time. That’s why he recognized you when he opened the door, although you are quite changed from the girl I remember.”
An abashed Yasmin thanked Santos for all his efforts and for making her sister so happy. Her precarious situation hit her with a rush of emotion, realizing how she might be placing their happy lives in danger just by visiting.
Yasmin was suddenly overwhelmed, feeling akin to a hunted animal. Depression began to weigh heavily upon her tense shoulders. Still, she tried to concentrate on her surroundings, on Eva’s happiness, and her marriage. There was something else. When she’d hugged her sister, she’d felt a slight bulge in her belly.
“Eva, I think you have more news for me,” Yasmin said, placing her hand over the small mound.
Laughing, both Eva and Santos held each other to give Yasmin the news that Yasmin would be an aunt in a few months. At the other end of the scale, Yasmin was told the sad story of her mother’s death and was promised more details in the morning.
Among non-stop talking, they all shared a delicious meal. Eva had learned to cook meals like their mother.
Santos offered to clean up to give the sisters some private time to become reacquainted.
Eva showed Yasmin their old room, still almost the way she remembered it. This reminded Yasmin that their mother left the house to both of them so that she could feel completely at home.
*
Knowing she had to keep moving fast before Tomas Chacon got wind of her whereabouts, Yasmin woke up the next morning refreshed from a good night’s sleep in her childhood bed. The memories rushed her thoughts as she looked out the window to see the same huge mango tree where, as children, she and Eva played with Federico.
Fresh, crisp air floated in through the open window. There in the distance, Yasmin saw the volcano that had always watched over her. It had made her feel safe as if its strength protected her. The huge rocks were once thrown with such force by the active volcano eons ago, they were scattered throughout the area. She imagined the power it must have taken for such massive boulders to be expelled and reach the village.
The feeling of hope and security didn’t last long as she remembered she was still Yasmin Chacon and Tomas would move every rock on earth until he caught up with her to kill her. Yasmin knew it was time to leave her sister’s house before anyone else knew she had been there. In this way, she would avoid implicating her beloved sister and her husband. It was the only way.
Already, she heard the voice of her sister. Feeling her hands grow damp and the butterflies starting up again, she readied herself. She would explain why she’d have to leave today.
Walking into the familiar kitchen, still wrapped in her old robe, hair mussed, and no makeup, she followed the delicious aromas calling to her. “I smell Ofelia’s coffee,” she said before reality hit her like a punch in her stomach. Ofelia was no longer there.
It was Eva, busy in the kitchen, brewing the fantastic smelling mountain coffee that grew in their own backyard. She had missed the taste of freshly roasted coffee she’d taken for granted growing up. Yasmin peeked around the corner of the kitchen to make sure Eva was alone.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Yasmin said cheerfully.
Eva turned from her cooking to smile at her sister. “You were always the early riser, Yasmin, but I’m glad you slept in today. You’ve had such a long trip.” Eva wore a clean white apron over her housedress, much like their mother always had.
“I’ll be leaving this morning, Eva. I am sorry, because there’s nothing I’d like more than to be here when your little angel is born.”
“But I thought you came home to stay, Yasmin.” Eva reached for her sister’s hands while her eyes filled with tears. “Why are you leaving?”
“I’d just be putting you and your family in danger if I stay.” Although Yasmin had told Eva about her current situation, the details of her escape had not been made clear in that one letter. Now was the time to tell Eva the entire truth, leaving nothing out.
She would have to leave but ask her sister to deny she’d seen her if anyone asked. Yasmin was afraid of what Tomas was capable of doing to gain information about his wife’s whereabouts. The two sisters sat gazing into each other’s eyes, taking in every detail of their features, and in doing so, feeling the delight of being together again.
“What happened to Ofelia?” Yasmin asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Ofelia called her sister, Sofia, the day you were supposed to arrive at her place. That was when she found out that you never made it to her house. Shortly after that was when Detective Mendoza and Santos, now my husband, arrived with the news of the accident. We were told that Manuel had died in the crash. They brought the charred blanket with the name, ‘Yasmin,’ embroidered on its edge.”
“I remember the blanket.”
“It was the one that mother stitched herself and gave to you on your birthday. There was no denying you were at the scene of the accident. We were beyond devastated, of course. Mother had the police call Federico and Don Jose to let them know of the situation. The assumption was that you had died in the accident, except that your body couldn’t be found.”
“Of course, because I’d been whisked away by Tomas Chacon.”
“When I heard they hadn’t discovered your body, I knew immediately that you hadn’t died. I could feel it in my heart. Poor Ofelia felt guilty for having sent you in the middle of the night with that cab driver. She blamed herself for what she thought might have been your death, but she never told anyone but me the reason why you’d left. We found your note, and everyone believed it.”
“Oh, poor Ofelia. It wasn’t her fault. She did the right thing, only I messed it up. Please, Eva, if you can reach her, let her know that for me.”
“Fearing you might be dead or badly injured, Ofelia called me down to the kitchen to tell me all the details of the plan you and her had concocted. She was unable to contain her tears.” Eva paused. “I had already guessed the reason for your absence, but I was shocked beyond belief at the accident. Both Ofelia and I kept your secret. We never told the police, Federico, or Mother the real reason you ran away.”
“Tell me how Mother died, Eva. You’ve gone through so much on your own. I am grateful you found Santos.”
“Mother went crazy with grief and disappointment at the thought of your possible death. Sometimes I had my doubts whether she was acting out her grief for your death to show Don Jose how much she loved you, or whether her grief was as real as she claimed. Don’t get me wrong, Yasmin, Mother really grieved for you. She had her heart set on that engagement party, and on marriage between you and Federico. It was to allow her to live the rest of her life comfortably.”
“I let her down so much,” Yasmin said sadly.
E
va, held on to her sister’s hand to tell her something she’d never told anyone else. “In her madness, one day, Mother walked to the grand house of Don Jose after he had moved into town. The old house was kept empty, being cared for by a weekly housekeeper. Mother was looking in through the windows at the beautiful things inside. I followed her when I saw the determination in her step as she crossed the field, and I watched as an insane rage came over her.”
“You mean an angry rage, Eva, not an insane rage?”
“No, she picked up a shovel from the barn and started breaking all the windows, yelling that it was supposed to have been hers. It wasn’t the first time she’d acted insane, so I tried to keep an eye on her. I had to drag her home and call the ambulance to take her to the hospital. She wouldn’t calm down. Don Jose was very kind to her, paid for her hospital expenses, and never mentioned the damage to his house.”
The two girls held each other to mourn their mother.
Eva said, “Narcisa was eventually released from the hospital, but she was never the same after that, and she died within a month of the incident.”
“What about Federico?”
“Unfortunately, Federico blamed himself for your decision to leave. He was devastated, more than you can ever imagine.”
Santos Sosa entered the house to see the girls hugging. He felt a conflict between his love for his wife, the happiness of finally knowing Yasmin was alive, and the danger she might bring to their home. It hadn’t taken him long to consider Yasmin’s husband. On the morning news on the radio on his way to work, he’d heard that the Kingpin was going crazy looking for his missing wife.
Even if Santos suspected Yasmin was Chacon’s wife, he’d never be able to prove the girl was Yasmin. The moment he reached the precinct, having heard rumors that the Kingpin’s wife was missing, he came home on the excuse he’d forgotten something. He had to let Yasmin know to move on. To his relief, Yasmin was saying her farewells, and she would soon disappear to places never to be divulged.
For everyone’s safety, Yasmin dressed quickly, wearing one of the stylish suits she’d bought at Rebecca’s. She made herself up expertly before leaving, refusing to eat breakfast and hoping no one would recognize her. There were still two pieces of business to take care of in town. She wanted to sell her wedding rings and open her own account with the money she could get from the sale.
She also wanted to open an account in Ofelia’s name to deposit the $450 she still had left of the money that Ofelia had given her.
When Yasmin mentioned her plans to Eva, she remembered her godfather, Don Carlos Piti, who was president of one of the town’s banks.
Eva said, “There’s a new bank in town, Yasmin, but you should go to our old local bank where Don Carlos will keep your account confidential. I don’t think you can open an account under a false name without identification. I trust Don Carlos to be a man of integrity, and a friend of our parents since the time they purchased the land we are living in now. He will help you.” Yasmin was eager to make a good impression on Don Carlos.
What Eva didn’t know was that their old friend and Eva’s godfather had been retired for a year. Don Carlos had been a young man like their own parents when he became president of the bank. He was the person who had faith in the hard-working Jacinto and his wife, Narcisa, becoming good friends in the aftermath.
When Eva was born, Don Carlos became her godfather at a simple baptismal ceremony in the local church. He’d often show up at the house with gifts for Eva, and later on for both girls. Eva hadn’t seen him since her mother’s funeral, for which Don Carlos covered all the expenses. He wanted to make it as regal as she would have liked.
Eva was sure he’d be happy to see Yasmin and keep her account confidential. “He’s a good friend.” She told Yasmin. “Remember to ask for him by name, Yasmin. Some of those secretaries can be very snooty. If necessary, let him know that I sent you and that I am his godchild. I haven’t seen him since the funeral, so please give him my regards.”
“I will,” Yasmin said and decided to go see Don Carlos at the bank. As a last thought, she grabbed her sunglasses to conceal her identity from the townspeople.
She needed someone she could trust to keep her money safe and secure from any questions.
Yasmin explained to Eva how she had to keep her plan on a strict schedule, hoping to stay ahead of Tomas until she left the country. She promised her sister they’d find a way to see each other again, expressing how much she wanted to get to know her niece or nephew. Although they both knew that the probability of that event may never happen.
“Stay safe,” Eva called to Yasmin as she hurried out of the house.
Yasmin waved and was gone. The sisters decided it best not to dwell on goodbyes.
*
The bank was across the street from the police station. Santos had returned to the station from where he watched the girl with so many secrets. She’d walked directly into the pawnshop that the police had under their watchful eye. The place was frequented by people who wanted to sell stolen goods. The owner was aware of their scrutiny, thus ran as honest a business as he was able.
Looking around at the merchandise, Yasmin waited until she was alone with the shop owner. After the other customers left, she pulled her two diamond rings out of her duffel bag. The shopkeeper looked at the rings and turned his face up to look at the lovely woman who brought such expensive items.
“Do you live around here?” he asked her.
“I used to. I am recently divorced, and this is all I have to show for it,” she lied. She could see that the man was curious about her and the merchandise. Withholding additional information which would satisfy his evident curiosity, she asked how much he would pay her for those items.
He told her that if those diamonds were real, he’d never handled any jewelry as exquisite and expensive as them. He must take them to his office in the back to verify their authenticity. He encouraged her to feel free to look around and that he wouldn’t be long.
The owner suspected that a diamond that big must be a fake, but to his expert eye, on a quick perusal, it looked like it would have to be an excellent fake or at least a flawed piece. He inspected for authenticity using his instruments. After an in-depth search for flaws under his extra-strong magnifying glass, he found none, whatsoever. The diamonds were real, had clarity, color, and were large; many carats between them. They were worth a fortune.
He diligently assessed the pretty girl dressed in expensive clothes, sitting on a chair, fidgeting with her purse while waiting. He approached her to ask straight out where she’d found these items. He was beginning to suspect they might be stolen.
Without hesitation, the girl told him they were a gift from her husband, who insisted she keep them after their divorce since they’d fallen on hard times. He had nothing else to give her.
“Your husband must have done very well at one time, Miss. These exquisite gems are worth a fortune. I have to tell you that I don’t feel right pawning these for you as I can only give you ten percent of their worth, and I am pretty sure you won’t be making sufficient money to repurchase them.”
The pawnbroker wanted to ask Yasmin more questions about her husband’s work while they were married, but he could tell that she wasn’t in a talking mood. “Miss, these rings are easily worth over $200,000 each, and all I can give you is $20,000 for each. That’s $40,000 for both, and I don’t have that kind of money in the store. But I’ll tell you what, if you come back here tomorrow morning, I’d have the money for you, in cash.”
Yasmin knew she had to get out of town fast, and $40,000 would carry her for a couple of years. Maybe by then, she could find a job somewhere, so she took the rings and told him she’d be back first thing in the morning.
When the pawnbroker saw her place the rings carefully back in her duffel bag, he warned her. “You’d be wise to hold on tight to that bag, lady, and don’t take your eyes off it for a second. There are petty thieves in town who will snatch an unattende
d purse in a flash, especially from a woman dressed like you.”
Yasmin said thanks, holding her bag close to her body, realizing she had a momentary mental lapse. This was precisely the type of establishment that would be the first place Tomas’ men would check. She reminded herself that she had to think of what Tomas would do with every step she took. Knowing the banks closed early, she hurried to be sure she’d catch Don Carlos before he went home.
With the duffel bag held tightly in her hand and her large leather purse hanging from her shoulder, she headed for the bank to find the dear friend of her parents. “Don Carlos Piti,” she whispered aloud to herself, making sure she remembered the name.
Arriving at the bank, she was pleasantly surprised to see it as a nearly new structure. She walked inside and admired the modern architecture and décor. She had to take a second look to make sure it was the old bank where Don Carlos worked, and not the newly opened one.
“Nice,” she whispered, walking on the deep carpet in a conservative shade of gray, bordered in dark mauve. Padded chairs covered in mauve leather complemented the wallpaper of modern lines and shapes. She entered a spacious lobby with several tall patron desks spaced across the length of its center containing deposit slips, credit applications, and other banking forms. Green plants, selectively placed, inspired an earthly setting.
Yasmin’s heart pounded against her chest as she went to the first teller she saw. Business and banking were not precisely her areas of expertise, and she was frightened that she might somehow bungle this. She had all the money she owned in the world on her person.
One phone call to Tomas for verifications of who she was surely meant death for her. She felt her hands grow clammy and the butterflies starting up again, realizing she had no identification on her. With all the confidence she could muster, she walked up to the teller.
“I’d like to see Don Carlos Piti,” she said, watching the woman frown at her request. Yasmin knew how to keep her face from showing any anxiety, but her hands were shaking uncontrollably. If not for the friendship existing between her parents and Don Carlos, she would not have dealt with a bank at all. Yasmin hadn’t the foggiest idea of how far-reaching Tomas’ organization was, and giving her name alone, could create a trail leading to her. She dared not trust anyone.
