The Family's Secrets

by T N Lowe

  “Okay,” I say, immediately feeling defeated.

  “Whatever,” Shauna answers sounding frustrated.

  “Good. Let us go then,” handsome tattoo man says, opening and then stepping through the door. I follow, then Shauna. He was not joking. Two guards are standing outside the door with large machine guns. Handsome tattoo guy begins to escort Shauna and I step in behind her, with the machine gun guys following closely.

  We zig and zag our way through at least ten hallways, each neat and tidy. The walls are the same cement as our room, except warn terracotta-colored. The sound of our bare feet slapping the title floor echoes off the high ceilings. Large stain glass windows dance along the ceiling allowing natural light in while adding vibrant life to the otherwise dull hallways. The hall is lined with evenly spaced doors each one a battered dark brown color, making it impossible to navigate the vast estate.

  “How big is this place?” Shauna hisses quietly.

  “We have twenty bedrooms, three family rooms, six sitting rooms, two dining rooms, two kitchens, and thirty bathrooms,” handsome tattoo guy answers matter of factly.

  He leads us through several more hallways, the estate becoming less dated and more showroom. The warn terracotta-colored walls turn to bright golden color. The lifeless halls are coved in expensive paintings of landscapes and people. A massive grandfather clock sits in the large sitting room. Handsome tattoo guy stops at a set of French doors. Opening them, he leads us through a room and onto a terrace where an older, familiar-looking Hispanic man sits at the head of a table for ten in a gray suit. As we approach, he stands, “Thank you, Tomas,” he says to the handsome tattooed man. Tomas does not leave us; he takes his post next to the French doors, as well as the two machine gun-wielding guards, inside the room.

  Our host turns to us and gestures for us to sit, “Ladies, please sit and I will explain everything,” he says in a thick Hispanic accent. We sit down at the table where tiny plates of strawberries have been set. Our host hands us perfectly starched linen napkins and offers us the ripe delicacies. As we sit, the man begins, “I am truly sorry for all this unpleasantness, and with your help Miss Love, your stay will not be too long.”

  “Who are you and why the hell are we here?” Shauna asks, losing her patience.

  Our forced host grits his teeth, “Mrs. Volkov, your husband’s abruptness has worn off on you.”

  Shauna gives him a sweet smile, “You’ll have to excuse my lack of manners. I was tossed into the back of a van against my will, drugged, and woke up chained to a bed. So, excuse me if I don’t feel this situation warrants perfect manners on my part. Kindly tell us who you are and what you want from us.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Volkov; I am Hector Calvo. You are here because I need your assistance; well, Miss Love’s assistance, specifically. Your father is the leader of the largest cartel in Mexico and Central America. I need you for leverage to convince him to relinquish control of his territory to me,” Hector explains, all while taking a bite of a strawberry.

  Like Shauna, my patience is running thin with this man, “My father is a supreme court justice, not a member of some drug cartel. So you have the wrong people. NOW, please let us go before my brother or Shauna’s husband sends an army to find us.”

  “I am not mistaken. You look exactly like your mother except you have your father’s eyes. So no, you will not be leaving until I get what I want.” Looking over his shoulder, Hector snaps, “Tomas, please escort these ladies back to their room.”

  Tomas strides over, his face void of any emotion, “Let’s go,” he says gruffly.

  I stand, tossing my napkin onto my plate. I am more than willing to return to my prison cell rather than spend another minute with this man.

  Shauna stares daggers at Hector, “You are the Hector Calvo who owns Calvo Fabrication,” she states.

  “I am,” Hector conforms.

  Hector Calvo, I know that name. Two summers ago, I was interning at Patrick’s company, Kindred Corp. I worked on the contacts for a business deal between Kindred Corp and Calvo Fabrication. “You have a business deal with Patrick. Why are you doing this to him?”

  “This has nothing to do with my business with your brother. Like Patrick, I have multiple business interests,” Hector explains.

  “What do you know about Patrick’s other business interests?” Shauna asks.

  Hector laughs, “We all have one family member who is not happy and strives for more.”

  “What are you saying?” I ask.

  “You know exactly what I am saying,” Hector taunts. Turning to Tomas, he orders, “Tomas, please escort these ladies back to their room. I will call for them again when I’m ready.”

  Tomas grabs Shauna and me by our arms and pulls us off the terrace to head toward our room. Shauna pulls her arm free and sneers, “I can’t wait for Maks to get here and kick your ass.”

  “Maks doesn’t know where you are,” a familiar male voice says from behind us.

  Turning to see who it is, Shauna gaps, “How the hell are you here?” Gennadi Volkov, her father-in-law stands just inside the room.

  “Hector was a loyal client when he learned of my… predicament. He helped free me from Moscow. He explained to me his need to control Carballo’s territory. So, I used my connections with some unhappy Family members and I have uncovered the fact that Rylie here is Carballo’s daughter.”

  “And what did you get from this exchange?” Shauna asks.

  Gennadi gives her a sickeningly sweet smile, “You are my payment, Shauna. I plan on using you to get revenge on my son for what he did to me.”

  Chapter Eight - Erin

  As we board the plane, I get a text from Patrick with our hotel information.

  Patrick: You are booked at The Green Park Boutique Hotel in Mexico City.

  Me: Thank you, Patrick.

  Patrick: You’re welcome. I also emailed you some intel that my security team was able to obtain. Please be careful and be sure to keep me in the loop.

  Me: Will do.

  We take our seats around a small table, and the flight attendant greets us, “Good morning, everyone. Is there anything I can get you before takeoff?”

  “I’ll take a Jack and Coke,” Landon says.

  “A beer, please,” Cain answers.

  “Vodka and cranberry,” Fi-Fi replies.

  “Jameson, please,” I say reading through the email Patrick sent me.

  After the flight attendant leaves, Landon asks, “Sweetheart, what is the plan?”

  “Patrick has arranged for us to stay at The Green Park Boutique Hotel. According to the information Patrick and his security team were able to obtain, the Mal Cartel is housed in an estate near the Chapultepec Forest. The hotel borders the forest and will allow us easier access to get information.”

  The flight attendant returns with our drinks and sets them down, informing us, “We’ll be taking off shortly,” then disappears just as efficiently.

  “Hopefully we will be able to determine if the cartel is holding Rylie and Shauna there. And if so, determine if we can extract them,” I finish explaining.

  “Isn’t the CIA guy going to help with locating and extracting them?” Cain asks.

  “We hope he is, but he hasn’t contacted his handler in over a month. This could mean he’s become a true member of the cartel or it could be it hasn’t been safe for him to talk. Either way, we have to play it safe and not assume he can or will help us.”

  “What are we going to do for the rest of the time?” Landon asks.

  “Be tourists; sightsee, eat, drink, and look like we are having fun,” Fi-Fi replies.

  “We have to be careful. The Mal Cartel have people everywhere according to Paul’s information. We don’t want anyone to guess we are there for anything more than a good time,” I confess.

  “In the morning we will inspect the estate. After that, our afternoons and evening are free for whatever we want,” Fi-Fi explains.

  As the plane taxis onto
the runway, Cain changes the subject from Mexico City to describing his and Fi-Fi’s new home. As we reach altitude, I curl into Landon’s side and pray we make it through this ordeal in one piece. I couldn’t take it if I lost Landon, Fi-Fi, or Cain, not to mention my two favorite cousins. “Don’t dwell on the what-ifs” I hear Paul say, like he used to before we would breach a house.

  Landon must sense my changed mood because he kisses the top of my head and offers, “Everything is going to be okay.”

  I nod and look across the table to find Fi-Fi giving Cain the same worried look. “Don’t worry Fi; you and Erin are the best at what you do,” Cain tells her.

  “Thank you,” Fi-Fi tells Cain, kissing him.

  Landon pulls me closer into his side, “He’s right, you and Fi-Fi are the best.”

  “Thank you,” I say, melting into his side again as I try to let my worries go.

  The plane touched down seamlessly at the Mexico City International Airport. The flight crew helps us off the plan, then escorts us to a customs officer with our bags in tow. After our bags are searched and we answer the officer's questions we navigate through the massive airport and into the waiting town car Patrick arranged for us. Half a block later I have determined that the driver is one of the worst drivers I’ve ever had the displeasure of riding with. He drives the narrow streets at incredible speeds, bobbing and weaving through the heavy traffic. I squeeze my eyes shut and curl into Landon’s side, more scared we won’t even make it to the hotel. The car comes to a sudden stop and I let out the breath I was holding, grateful we have actually made it to The Green Park Boutique Hotel in one piece.

  The Green Park Boutique Hotel is a beautiful, early nineteenth-century, art deco, red and white building. The driver exits the car and Fi-Fi, Cain, Landon, and I follow. As the driver begins to unload our bags from the trunk, he says in a thick Mexican accent, “Mr. Love has arranged for the car service while you are here in Mexico City.” Taking a card from his chest pocket, he hands it to Landon, “If you need a ride, please call.”

  I’m not sure my nerves can handle another ride with him.

  “Thank you,” Landon says, pocketing the card and taking our bags from him.

  With our bags in tow, we enter the breathtaking lobby. I study the detail of the tray ceiling and marble mosaic floors as we make our way to the check-in desk. A young raven haired girl is standing behind the desk; she reminds me of my friend Violet, who manages the Moose Valley Lodge, with her wide smile and vibrant personality. “Good afternoon and welcome to The Green Park Boutique Hotel. I am Adriana. How may I help you?” she asks in her heavily accented English.

  “Hi,” Fi-Fi replies. “We have a reservation for Cain and Fi-Fi Murphy and Landon and Erin Jefferies.”

  Adriana presses some keys on the computer, “Yes, I see it here; you are booked in the Vista suites. If I can please have Mr. Murphy and Mr. Landon sign the room cards and I will make your keys.”

  After a few minutes, Adriana places our key cards into the little envelopes emblazoned with the logo for the hotel, and slides them across the counter to us. “Mr. and Mrs. Murphy and Mr. and Mrs. Jefferies, you are both on the third floor overlooking the Chapultepec Forest.”

  “Thank you, Adriana,” I say taking the key cards from the counter and handing Fi-Fi her and Cain’s key.

  We ride to the elevator to the third floor, making plans for the evening. “Why don’t you girls go to the spa and after, we’ll meet up for dinner in the restaurant,” Cain suggests.

  “Great idea, honey,” Fi-Fi says, kissing Cain. Breaking the kiss, Fi-Fi turns to me, “Are you in?”

  I giggle, “A spa day with my best friend and sister? Of course, I’m in.”

  Before joining Fi-Fi in the spa, I log into the Gnome Treasure game. Gnome Treasure is one of Kinman’s Communication games. When Patrick requested a discrete way for the members of The Family to communicate, it was Shauna’s idea to use the game. She created a beautiful secret garden for members to meet or for messages to be passed.

  A little gnome with flaming red hair wearing a green dress fills the screen of my phone. I make my way through the beautiful exotic gardens to the secret garden, where. Standing outside the secret garden is a guard gnome, he asks for me if I am meeting someone or if I would like to leave a message. Leave a message, I answer. I’m asked whom I would like to leave the message for, my friend list popping up on the screen. I chose Patrick; then, a text box fills my screen.

  We made it safe and sound. I’ll send you updates as I get them. Love Erin

  I exit the game and after getting settled and kissing Landon goodbye, I meet Fi-Fi at the elevator to head to the spa.

  Fi-Fi and I spend three hours getting pampered with massages, facials, manicures and pedicures. During our mani-pedi’s, I confess, “I will never admit it to Landon, but I am nervous.”

  “I feel the same way. From what Cain has found online, the Mal Cartel they are an unforgiving bunch.”

  “What if ….” I start.

  “Don’t focus on the what-ifs, focus on what we know and what we can control,” Fi-Fi reminds me.

  “We have so much more to lose now if something goes wrong,” I say, wiping a tear away.

  Fi-Fi brushes away her own tears, “I keep reminding myself that this is what they trained us to do, and we are very good at it. Now try to relax and enjoy tonight.”

  After a fantastic dinner at the hotel restaurant, The View, Landon takes me back to our room. Unzipping my dress, he presses kisses down my neck, “I missed you tonight.”

  “Umm, I missed you too,” I reply, turning in his arms and pressing my lips to his.

  Landon looks me up and down as I stand in my white bra and thong. He picks me up and carries me into the bedroom. Placing me on the bed, Landon strips his clothes and climbs up my body, placing kisses as he goes, “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Chapter Nine - Rylie

  Early the next morning, our captor known as Tomas opens the door, letting it bang against the wall, causing Shauna and me to startle awake. He unceremoniously sets a tray of food at the foot of our beds, “Eat quickly, Mr. Calvo would like to speak to you.”

  “Whatever,” I say, rolling over and ignoring Tomas.

  The blanket covering me is yanked off. Tomas kneels by my bed and in a Midwest accent, not the Mexican accent he used before, “For your safety, do what Mr. Calvo wants. If you don’t, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

  More than a little pissed at my situation, I bark, “Why the hell do you care about my safety and what about Shauna’s?”

  “I can’t tell you why I care. I will do everything in my power to keep you both safe,” Tomas hisses, placing his hands on my knees.

  A zing runs through my body at Tomas’s touch. I pull away, remembering he is helping to keep Shauna and me hostage.

  “It’s not like you have a lot of choices,” Tomas spits.

  As he speaks, I watch his face and pick up subtle clues; he is lying, “You are holding me against my will, and you want me to trust you? Not going to happen. If you have some need to see to our safety while we are here, that’s on you. But I do not trust you with mine or Shauna’s safety.”

  Tomas puts his hand further up until he stops at my thigh, “Don’t worry, chica. I will show you that you can trust me.”

  Pushing his hands away and standing, I speak through clenched teeth, “Tell his highness, we will be there shortly.”

  Tomas shakes his head, “No, only you. Shauna will stay here.”

  “Is it safe for her here?”

  “I think so.”

  “You think, or you know?” I demand.

  “She will be fine. Now get dressed and eat. Calvo will not wait long.”

  Walking around Tomas, I go into the bathroom and shower quickly. When Tomas returned us to the room after our first meeting with Hector Calvo, he did not shackle us to the beds. The door to the hall is still locked, but we can walk around the room and we can
at least go to the bathroom without someone watching.

  After washing, I dress in a light blue sundress left in the bathroom, and step into a pair of flip-flops. Joining Tomas and a now sleeping Shauna, I take a bite of toast, “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “About damn time,” Tomas says as he stands, taking me by the hand. He drags me through a different set of hallways from the last time he took me to Hector Calvo. The halls are a warm red color; this area has a homey feel. If I had to guess this is where the Calvo family lives.

  This time Tomas leads me to a large sitting room where Hector Calvo is watching the rainfall outside. “It is good of you to join me,” Calvo says standing. “Thank you, Tomas; I will call when Miss Love is ready to return to her room.”

  Tomas leaves, and Hector guides me to the chair across from where he was sitting. As Hector retakes his seat, I ask, “What can I do for you, Mr. Calvo?”

  “My son will escort you to dinner tonight; your father will be the guest of honor. My wife has handpicked a gown for you to wear tonight.”

  “What?”

  Hector stands and paces the room; “You will attend dinner tonight with my son. You will show your perfect pretty face to your father,” he rounds my chair and puts his hands to my throat and begins to squeeze. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  I shake my head, and he releases my throat. Gasping for air, I rub my neck, trying to ease the ache. “What about Shauna?” I ask scared of what Gennadi will do to her.

  Hector leans down and whispers in my ear, “Don’t worry yourself with her. Gennadi has a special treat for Mrs. Volkov. Now run along and get ready to meet your papa.” Hector returns to his spot in front of the window, “Tomas,” he calls.