The Dragon Tree Legacy

by Ali Vali

  “Do you have any idea who did?”

  “We’re working on it. You’ll be the first to know if we have anything.”

  “Thanks for the call, then.” Peter hung up and Wiley smiled at him.

  “Good,” she said as she brought her computer to life. She changed the address the number was attached to in a few keystrokes. “I doubt they would’ve found you here anyway, but by clearing you they’ve given me a few days to work on something else I have going on. My dad and I will be flying out in the morning. I need your word that you won’t leave the building until we get back. The only way this gets blown now is if anyone spots one of you in town.”

  “Where are you going?” Karen asked.

  “Unfortunately that’s classified, but it has nothing to do with this. The guy who asked me for a favor does know where I live, so I have no choice but to go. I don’t want him coming here while we have a house full.”

  “Don’t worry, Wiley, we’ll stay put,” Aubrey said. “Can we do anything to help?”

  “Stay inside.”

  *

  “I was beginning to think you don’t like me,” Walter said. The Whiskey Blue Bar in the W Hotel was close enough to Wiley’s place not to be suspicious, but far enough away to draw Walter’s minions from her doorstep. “You don’t call, you don’t write.” He twirled the amber liquid and a few cubes of ice in his glass.

  “This isn’t like you’re asking me to pick up your dry cleaning.” The bartender stopped in front of them and she ordered a club soda. “But now that you mention it, I did think hard about calling you back.”

  “Did I hurt your feelings?” Walter laughed, and the sound grated on her.

  “The people you work with might find your sense of humor hilarious, but I don’t have the patience for it. I do have a joke for you, though.”

  He pointed to his glass again and winked at the bartender. “Am I going to find it funny?”

  “I don’t know you well, so you tell me. How funny is having your brains splattered by a specially made hollow-point bullet fired from a semiautomatic sniper’s rifle?”

  “You’re right, that’s a joke. If we’re going to work together you’re going to have to do better than that to threaten me.”

  Walter stared at his new drink as if unaware of her eyes on the side of his head. “This is a one-time thing, so I don’t give a crap what you think about my technique. Have any of your people come after me again with any kind of needle, and I will hunt you down. You’re never going to see it coming, and I’m not going to lose a bit of sleep over it.”

  “Sounds like you’re dying to spend the rest of your life in a mental facility.”

  She placed the fifty-one-millimeter bullet next to his drink and grabbed him by the wrist when he tried to touch it. “I don’t like you, Walter, not at all. If you’d ever had to do my job, you’d realize the targets we’re ordered to take down have nothing to do with dislike, hate, or revenge. They’re merely a target like those at the range, but I’ll make an exception for you. I’ll pull the trigger and feel good about it. The real satisfaction, though, will be that there’ll be no consequences to killing you. Trust me about that.”

  “Stop fucking with me and tell me when you’re leaving,” he squeezed out through his teeth since he couldn’t break her hold.

  “I should finish my recon by tomorrow night. If it’s doable, I’ll stay and take care of the problem. If your information is accurate, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find a perch high enough to get you out of my life.”

  “What if there isn’t?”

  The bullet seemed to fascinate him since he couldn’t stop staring at it. “The type of facility we’re talking about shouldn’t have higher-than-standard walls. Their security would stop anyone long before they reach them, so if he’s still enjoying his moments in the sun, I shouldn’t have a problem.”

  “I’ll have my partner waiting with anything you need.”

  “All I need is for you to stay the hell away from me here and in Mexico. My contacts will take care of my shopping list.” She pocketed the bullet and left a ten on the bar. “Don will give you a call once I’m done.”

  Walter kept his eyes front as she left, but he’d been predictable from the beginning, so it didn’t take much to find the two guys he’d sent to tail her. Since he’d gone to so much trouble, she led them through the French Quarter toward New Orleans east and its miles of deserted streets. A little practice before she left wasn’t a bad idea.

  When she exited off the interstate she sped up at the bottom of the ramp, not worried about traffic. It was nonexistent here. Her bike sounded out of place in the silence, but she could still hear the car behind her. She drove a block, kicked the stand down, but didn’t kill the engine. The car’s lights made it impossible to see what color it was or if anyone else had joined the two who’d followed her out of the bar.

  Once the nine millimeter was in her hand she tuned out everything but the oncoming vehicle. The calm around her might’ve been shattered, but as she emptied the clip the only tenseness she experienced was in her finger and shoulders. When the last bullet left the barrel the two front tires were flat and the radiator was hissing steam.

  The two front doors opened but the guys wisely stayed put. She changed the clip, holstered the weapon, and drove off. Most likely there was another car, but she didn’t spot it as she doubled back to the highway. She guessed they’d wait outside her place.

  “I’m going shopping, so don’t wait up,” she told her father when he answered his phone.

  “Be careful, and remember it’s an early flight.”

  “I’ll be there.” She disconnected and turned toward the city again. “Whether I want to or not.” Her words echoed inside her helmet, but they made no emotional impact. This job wasn’t her idea, but like all the others it quieted everything in her head, including the ghosts from her past that were haunting her home.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Wiley, good to see you, man,” Dante Guzman said when he opened the door to the South American antiquities shop he co-owned with his sister on Magazine Street. The long street that started in downtown New Orleans cut through both Uptown and the Garden District, and was home to hundreds of small businesses. The Guzmans had opened the place fifteen years before with the help of their father and were sandwiched between a specialty jewelry store and an Indonesian furniture store.

  “Good to see you, and I’m glad you were still here.” She glanced around the space full of statues, paintings, and jewelry they imported from Mexico and South America, but didn’t spot Juliana, Dante’s sister.

  “Even we have to do inventory, and Juli doesn’t trust the staff not to break something. Now that you’re here, I’ll make a run for it before she notices the stuff in the back hasn’t been counted.” She laughed and followed him toward the back of the building. “She’s waiting for you upstairs, and the last time I checked, she had almost everything you need. Take care, and I’m still waiting for the series of paintings you promised me.”

  “I’m halfway through your list, but I haven’t had much time in the studio lately.” The painting she’d done of their childhood home in the mountains of Colombia hung on the wall behind his desk. She looked at it as he locked the antique mahogany desk that had been his father’s. The small pistol he’d removed from the middle drawer went into his suit pocket, and she smiled at him when he hugged her.

  “Your art is your greatest talent, my friend. I don’t care what people like Don say. Things like that,” he pointed to the large canvas, “will mark your legacy.”

  “Let’s hope so, but I doubt pretty pictures will keep me out of hell.”

  He embraced her again and kissed both her cheeks. “Then we’ll both sit in the heat and drink eternity away. Take care of yourself.”

  Their store was in an old house, but the siblings conducted business strictly on the first floor. The top floor was an apartment Juliana used when she was too tired to drive to the old plantati
on she’d refurbished thirty miles outside New Orleans.

  “You’re late,” Juliana said when Wiley reached the bedroom in the back of the house. “Maybe you weren’t looking forward to this as much as I am.”

  Her friendship with the Guzman siblings had started when she’d been separated from her team in Bogota five years earlier. She’d been serving on her fourth joint mission put together by the army and the Colombian government. After months of meetings, ten high-profile targets had been identified, and she’d been assigned two of the last to be eliminated. By the time she arrived, the cartels had heightened security and flooded the streets with money for information. If Juliana hadn’t helped her with supplies and a place to stay, she would’ve been dead in less than a day.

  There’d been only one way to celebrate the relief of getting to live, as Juliana had put it, and that’s where their true relationship had started.

  Like the first time, Wiley stood and admired the beauty of Juliana’s naked body. Her brown skin, jet hair, and black eyes were mesmerizing. She looked for such a long time that the caress of her eyes made the dark nipples pucker and Juliana spread her legs slightly.

  “You know me better than that,” she said as she leaned against the doorjamb even though she wanted badly to run her hands along the swell of Juliana’s stomach. Her desire this time, though, was tempered with guilt. Aubrey was only a few miles away, still hoping for all the things she’d promised so long ago. “I had a few ticks to burn off before I got here.”

  “Business should never come before pleasure.” Juliana crooked her finger, beckoning her forward. “I’ve been wet since you called.”

  Wiley could almost hear her own heartbeat when Juliana slapped her hands away and slowly unbuttoned her shirt so she could get to her pants. Everything that’d happened to her that day melted away when Juliana pulled her jeans down before she urged her to sit at the edge of her bed. When she did, Juliana took her shoes and pants off so she could kneel between her legs.

  “It’s been too long.”

  “You’re right, but don’t think you have to do this,” Wiley said, before she framed Juliana’s face with her hands. Their last meeting had been two years ago in the house in the painting downstairs. Juliana had been nothing but kind to her, so she couldn’t tell her that the flames of want burning through her guts hadn’t started because of her.

  “You’ll have to beg me not to touch you. Have I suddenly become hideous to you?”

  “No. I have a lot going on.” She’d never considered what was between them love, but it was more than sex. They’d spent a week naked in that remote place, surrounded by coffee plants and colorful birds, when she painted that canvas for Dante.

  “So don’t waste time talking about things outside this room if I only have a few hours.” She leaned back when Juliana put her mouth on her. Not until Juliana’s lips encircled her hardness did she realize she’d been turned on since Aubrey had come to talk to her. Maybe she was getting too good at denial, but at the moment she didn’t care. The release had become paramount.

  Juliana sucked harder when Wiley grabbed the back of her head and wrapped the shoulder-length silky hair around her fist. She didn’t close her eyes. The last time she’d been safe enough to do that it had been with Aubrey, but she was losing control nonetheless. She took a deep breath and tightened her hold when Juliana stopped and laid her head on her thigh.

  “That’s for keeping me waiting up here and getting wet at the thought of you.” Juliana opened the drawer of the nightstand slowly, obviously remembering how she felt and reacted to sudden movements. “Want to prove to me what great shape you’re in and how badly you want to make things up to me?”

  The harness appeared to be the same one Juliana had brought with her when they’d met in the mountains, and she stood as she strapped it on her. “You left me craving this since the last time.”

  When the belt was fastened, Juliana swirled her tongue around the head of the dildo before sucking it in and out. The motion made the small attachment next to her rub against Wiley’s clit. She didn’t need a reminder of how badly she wanted to come. The torture ended when Juliana lay back and spread her legs after bending them at the knees.

  “Are you going to keep me waiting some more?” Juliana asked, spreading her sex to prove how wet she was.

  Wiley knelt and held the cock by the base to better guide it in. Juliana had chosen a shorter, thick one that matched Wiley’s skin tone, her artistic side emerging in strange ways. Wiley tipped her hips forward slowly, making sure Juliana took the thickness all right.

  “Show me you missed me,” Juliana said, running her hands down her back to her ass. It was all the permission she needed. She pumped her hips, driving deeper and enjoying the sound of skin slapping against skin. With her eyes on Juliana’s face, she stopped when the orgasm gave her no other choice. Juliana had dug her nails into her ass hard enough to break the skin.

  “Still so, so good.” Juliana drew her legs up so she could put her feet on the backs of her thighs. “Now that I’m almost comatose, how are you?”

  Juliana took a deep breath and let it out in a slow, strong stream when Wiley pulled out and rolled next to her. “I was fine until an active fly landed in my web.”

  “Always the puzzler, aren’t you?” Juliana turned and rested her chin on her shoulder. “Let’s move to safer subjects you can actually talk about. How’s the house? Did the frame for the Dragon Tree portrait come out to your liking?”

  “You and Dante did a masterful job finding the perfect wood for that painting.”

  “That one seems special to you, so Dante made it himself from wood our grandfather carved years ago.”

  The gift was generous, considering the small amount of time they’d spent together. Juliana, though, understood her and her need to not get attached. “You know I’ll treasure it as much as the both of you would’ve.”

  Juliana lifted her head and rested it on her hand as she placed her other hand on Wiley’s abdomen. “Are you ever going to tell me the story of that piece? If you don’t have time now, then I’ll wait until you come back.”

  “It’s a long one I’m not sure I know how to tell.”

  Juliana smiled, but her expression seemed melancholy. “I’ll never own your heart, but I’d like to hear about the woman who does.”

  “How do you know I painted it because of a woman?”

  “Am I wrong?” Juliana asked, sitting up so she could light a cigarette.

  “It’s a historical work,” she said as she removed the harness. “I’m not trying to put you off, but I really don’t have time.”

  “Then put your pants on so I can concentrate.” Juliana pulled on the silk robe draped across the end of the bed and took long drags of her smoke as she dressed. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

  “In the morning, so I need my list in place by noon, if you can manage it.”

  “I’m not even going to ask because I know better, but where you’re going—it’s not a nice place.” Juliana led her to the office at the front of the house where she took a small envelope off the desk. She sat on the love seat against the opposite wall and ground out her cigarette. “Everything you asked for is in place and ready for pickup. I made sure my most trusted courier is there to greet you.”

  “I’m in your debt again,” Wiley said, joining Juliana and taking her hand.

  “I billed enough since I figured this job isn’t something you picked. The government cries, but their pockets are still deep.” The robe opened enough for Wiley to see Juliana’s breasts when she leaned forward to light another cigarette. “Remember to be careful. You are always the hunter, but the men who serve time there control all the jackals in Mexico. The guns you asked for don’t have enough rounds if the pack turns against you.”

  “I’ll do my best, but thanks for the advice.”

  “And remember that you owe me a story.” Juliana kissed her cheek and she took it as a signal that it was time to go. She’d never
kissed Juliana on the lips. That intimacy had nothing to do with their relationship, but she did wonder if Juliana’s husband enjoyed that act with her.

  The much-older gentleman Juliana had chosen rarely left Colombia and had been a concession to Juliana’s father. Wiley didn’t know his name but felt a bit of sympathy for the guy. In the eyes of the law, Juliana was his wife, but he’d never own her. Juliana, she figured, gave only glimpses of her true self to very few people, and only Dante knew her completely. Her brother and closest friend would never betray her trusts or her secrets.

  “Take care and I’ll see you soon.”

  She put the envelope in her front pocket and left by the back door. The street was still busy because of the numerous restaurants in the area, but she didn’t spot any more of Walter’s men. If they were there watching, they were doing a better job of blending. As she headed back to her place, the thoughts of Aubrey that Juliana had drained from her head returned.

  Even if she’d had time to tell Juliana the story she’d asked for, she wasn’t sure she’d know how. The beginning was clear to her, but the end was still unknown. The only certainty was that there’d be one, and it’d come as soon as she could assure the Tarvers’ safety.

  *

  “When are you coming back?” Levi Evans asked, turning away from the crowded town square in Mexico City to be able to hear Walter’s answer. His supposed partner had left for the States without calling him or providing any updates on the case they’d been working.

  “I need a few more weeks. Then if things go well I’m getting us transferred stateside for a while. Arizona or California has to be better than some of the hellholes we’ve been stuck in, huh?”

  His waiter put the can of Coke and the honey bun he’d ordered down while barely looking at him. He’d be damned if he’d eat or drink anything not in a wrapper until he was back in Florida. “You gonna tell me why you bugged out of here so fast?”