Deep Deception 2

by McKinney, Tina Brooks

  “I can’t. I got to go home.”

  “Husband waiting on you?” I was joking because I already knew her situation.

  “I wish. My mother is expecting me.”

  “What are you, twelve?” I saw anger flash in her eyes. This was the first time I saw her display any emotion.

  “No.” She started grabbing things off her desk and slinging them into her purse.

  I knew she was mad when she took her Rolodex and put it in her purse. I started laughing.

  “What?” She glared at me, clearly pissed.

  “Do you always take your Rolodex home with you?” I laughed even harder when I saw her mortified expression.

  She snatched the Rolodex out of her purse, zipped the purse closed, and slung it over her shoulder. “One drink.” She marched out of the office with me right on her heels. We walked over to Taco Mac in silence.

  I said, “So, what’s up with the attitude?”

  “Nothing. I just have a lot on my mind.”

  We ordered drinks, strong drinks.

  “My bad. I hate being the new kid on the block. Of all the people working in the firm, you seem like the only real person there. I can’t stand no fake bitch.”

  Victória’s head snapped back and she started laughing. “You read them right. All them bitches can kiss my ass,” Victória exclaimed as she started to loosen up.

  I said, “That bitch Tonya is the first one on my list. She’s supposed to be our supervisor, but she’s got something negative to say about everybody.”

  “I know that’s right. She tricked my ass into being a friend for a hot minute, but I had to cut that loose.”

  “You didn’t tell her any of your business, did you? ’Cause that heifer can’t hold water in a bucket. I hadn’t been there but five minutes and I knew everybody’s marital status. What the fuck do I care if them bitches is married or not?”

  Victória shrugged. “She’s a trip. I think she has issues with herself.”

  “Exactly. And the men suck. Every last one of them. Why can’t we have at least one piece of eye candy up in that joint?”

  Victória giggled like a schoolgirl. A small light bulb went off in my head. She was a virgin. I was going to have to find a way to use that information to my advantage. Twenty minutes and two drinks later, I signaled for the check.

  “You ready to go?” She looked surprised.

  “I thought you said you only had time for one drink. I’m not trying to get you in trouble or nothing.”

  “I’m a grown-ass woman,” she declared and ordered another round. Ironically, Jaheim’s song “Another Round” was playing in the background.

  I said, “Look, I don’t know about you, but I can’t afford too many more of these drinks. I work at Title Guarantee Company and they ain’t paying me shit.”

  “I know that’s right.”

  “It’s Friday night and I don’t live far. What do you say about us getting a bottle and going to my house?”

  She smiled. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  We paid the tab and Victória followed me to my new apartment, compliments of the bureau.

  “Okay, how the fuck can you afford this apartment?” Victória gasped after I gave her the grand tour.

  “It ain’t off my salary I’ll tell you that. They ought to be ashamed of the wages they pay us.”

  “Yeah, slave labor, but you still didn’t answer the question.” She looked nervous all of a sudden.

  I felt the chill in the air and she looked like she was about to flee. “Relax, girl, I do taxes on the side during tax season. I pay the rent for the entire year so I don’t have to stress.” I handed her another drink.

  “Miss, you’re about to miss your flight.” Someone poked me in the arm.

  “Huh? What’s going on?” I struggled to open my eyes; it felt like someone had tied them down with tiny ropes.

  “You are on the flight to New York, aren’t you?” Who was this person and why the fuck did they keep poking me?

  “Uh, yeah.” My eyes finally opened, and I was a little dismayed to see a TSA goon standing in front of me.

  “Well, they just made last call,” he said. “If you want to get on this flight, I suggest you hurry before they close the doors.”

  I was shocked. I didn’t even remember closing my eyes, and now I was about to miss my flight. I gathered my things and rushed to the gate. “Who would have thought the agent from hell could’ve been a blessing.” I took my seat in first class and promptly went back to sleep. Damn, bitch, you didn’t even say thanks. “Fuck ’em,” I mumbled.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CARLOS MENDOZA

  “How long have I been out? Wait, where am I?”

  “Padre, you’re in the hospital. You’ve been here for a few days,” Victória said.

  I sat up. “A few days? Well, I’m ready to go home. I’m feeling better. Get the doctor.”

  “Padre, they’re not going to let you leave. You’re very ill. Unless you have this surgery, you’re going to die,” Victória said.

  I was surprised to see Victória. She was fresh out of the hospital herself and now she was sitting vigil around my bed. And from the looks of things, it appeared as if she’d been here for a while.

  “Nonsense. I’ll be fine. I just got overexcited. It happens from time to time.”

  “They don’t give medication for excitement. Why do you continue to lie to us?”

  I was immediately sorry for lying, but old habits were hard to break. So of course it was natural to say the first thought that came to my head. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” I felt like our roles were reversed and suddenly I was the child.

  Victória grabbed my hand. “How long has this been going on?”

  “For a few years now. This is the first time I wound up in the hospital, though.” I didn’t want to alarm Victória, but I was actually scared myself. I didn’t want to die, not yet anyway.

  “Padre, this isn’t good. You’ve got me and Verónica worried sick about you. The doctor said you have to have surgery—this time you’re going to get it.”

  “Nonsense, I’ll be fine.” I tried to sound confident, but I failed to comfort my own self.

  “The doctor said your body is strong enough to recover, but your heart is working overtime to sustain it. If you don’t have the surgery, there might not be a next time. You cheated me out of my childhood, are you checking out on me as an adult?”

  Victória was angry but she had every right to be. If she hadn’t said that, I might have continued fighting her until I’d talked my way out of the hospital. I’d spent so much of my life alone, it was time I started thinking about someone other than myself.

  I said, “Fine, I’ll have the surgery, but you must promise me that you’ll find Tilo. She won’t stop until you do.”

  Her eyebrow raised. “Stop what? What more can she do?”

  “I don’t know ... I honestly don’t know myself.” It was important to me that Victória understood, even though I was still trying to wrap my arms around it myself.

  “Padre, you’re not making any sense. I think I need to call Verónica.”

  “No, don’t call her. Once I speak to you and Moses, you can decide what to tell her after I finish telling you what I have to say.”

  “Okay. Are you sure I don’t need to get the doctor?”

  “Really, I’m fine, but I do have something very important to tell you. Could you call Moses and ask him to stop by?”

  She made the call then said, “He is on his way.”

  “Good. Wake me when he gets here, okay?”

  “Okay, Padre. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  I was far from sleepy. I needed time to get my thoughts together. I’d been lying for such a long time, it was difficult to tell the truth. My biggest fear was that my children wouldn’t be able to forgive me for a second time. The last thing I wanted to do was to bring up the old memories they had just put to rest, but that was exactly what I nee
ded to do to get on to the future. I believed Moses understood the risks we were facing, and I needed his logical mind to make sure Victória understood what we were up against.

  I didn’t immediately open my eyes when my door opened. If it was a nurse coming to check on me, they could do it while I was presumably asleep. However, when no one approached the bed, I took a peek. I smiled weakly when I noticed Moses. For some reason I felt comforted just having him near. “Moses, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Afternoon, sir. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  Victória was seated in the chair closest to the window. Her face was strained. I made a mental note to tell Moses to make sure she went home and got some rest. She didn’t need to be sitting in the room with me.

  “Thank you for coming. Help me sit up some more.”

  Moses pressed the buttons until I was comfortable. I nodded my head in thanks. He took a seat next to Victória.

  I decided to get right to the point. “I have two phones. One for my personal use and one is for business. Since the cartel shut down, my business phone has not rung. That is, until the other day. Do you remember when we were in your office Moses, and I told you I recognized the voice on your answering machine?”

  “Yeah.” Moses nodded.

  “Monte was the only person who had that number, but Tilo called it the other day.”

  “So Uncle Monte gave the number to Tilo?” Victória asked.

  “Possible, but not likely,” I answered.

  Moses said, “Hmm, that doesn’t make sense to me either. To my knowledge, Monte didn’t know Tilo like that. I’d be willing to bet money on that.”

  “Okay, you two seem to know something that I don’t. Somebody please enlighten me,” Victória stated.

  Moses reached for his briefcase. “Since we are just throwing out theories, here’s one I’m working on. I did a Google search on Colombian drug wars and the results were really quite disturbing. I was more interested in drugs and their relation to Atlanta.”

  I was excited. This was exactly the type of connection I needed Moses to make, but he needed to think on a bigger scale. Drugs were just the tip of the iceberg. Moses inched closer to my bed. Victória pulled up her chair beside him. If it weren’t for the beeping of the various machines attached to my arms and chest, I would’ve forgotten I was in the hospital.

  “Right, look for a trend in theme or occurrence. This was part of what your mother did, Victória, and later Monte took over the job. When the president of Colombia declared war on drugs, he angered many and hurt a lot of families. The cartel struck back with a brutal blow to Colombia, sending a message to the world that the cartel wouldn’t be bullied and that Colombia was unsafe,” I explained.

  “I remember that. In fact, some of it is mentioned in my research papers. People were afraid to travel in fear of being kidnapped or killed,” Moses interjected.

  “And large groups of tourists came up missing. Mass graves became a familiar sight, and it hit an already poor country right in the pocket. The United States offered its support because American citizens were targets; and, quite frankly, they still needed the drugs Colombia provided. They didn’t want the supply to stop, nor did they want to pay more for the drugs.”

  Victória cringed. “Wait, are you saying my mother was some sort of monster, responsible for the deaths of thousands of innocent people?”

  I said with an even tone, “No, Victória, please keep your voice down. That’s not what I’m saying at all, however, for a moment, don’t put people or personalities into this. The bottom line is it’s a business—big business—and the people who got the most money wanted to make sure it continued. The president of Colombia had the right idea but his own people could not be trusted.

  “Your mother would leak stories to the press touting the success of various cleanup efforts. But most—if not all—of what she leaked was a lie. Your mother got out years ago and had nothing to do with the current situations.” I needed Victória to be real clear on that because I didn’t want to change the way she felt about her mother or me.

  “You’re not making any sense, and I don’t think I want to hear any more. This is getting too crazy.” She stood up but Moses pulled her back into her seat. She looked like she was about to give him a big piece of her mind but stopped when a nurse came in to check on me.

  “Do we need to leave?” Moses asked. His face was flushed and animated.

  “No, you’re fine. I’m just checking his vitals and I’ll be out of the way,” the nurse said.

  Conversation didn’t immediately resume when the nurse left. I guessed we were all taking a break to absorb what we’d learned and the implications.

  “When Monte took over, his approach was more violent. He created such a volatile environment, he had to leave Colombia, but I’m guessing he continued his dirt from here, hence the phone call.”

  “I don’t believe any of this bullshit. Padre, you have all the answers, or speculations, if that’s what you’re calling them. The people you speak against can’t refute what you say because they are all dead or MIA. You’re so busy pointing fingers at everyone else, what was your involvement? Huh? Tell us about that shit.” She was clearly angry but it was expected. At least she didn’t run from the room.

  “I was strictly responsible for transportation and transportation-related details. To my knowledge, I do not have anyone’s blood on my hands,” I said.

  “Oh yeah, right. And they paid you all that money you showed us just for transportation? What do I look like, a fucking fool?”

  Moses was watching and not saying anything, but his attention picked up at the mention of money. “Money? What money?”

  Shit, he didn’t know.

  “Uh, um ...” Victória stuttered. Her face got red.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled. My mind went into a deep freeze as I tried to think of a good save. It was obvious that Verónica had not told her husband about the money. Although I never told them to keep the money a secret, I understood why she would.

  “So what did Tilo say?” Victória countered.

  I was never so proud of my daughter as I was at that moment. “I think she called me by mistake. She mentioned someone named Rome and told me to sell him back the guns we took from him at double the price.”

  “I thought you said you only dealt with transportation?”

  “I did, I swear to you. Something wasn’t right with her. She appeared off, if you know what I mean. That’s another reason why I think she called me by mistake.”

  “Well, who the fuck is Rome?” Victória asked.

  “I have no idea. I tried keeping her on the phone, so I started throwing out stuff to her that I’d heard on the news. I asked about the mayors who got killed, and she basically said to keep up the good work. She told me to spread out the violence to keep Obama off her back,” I said with a shrug.

  Moses wasn’t participating in the back-and-forth. I was afraid he was still stuck on the money. He appeared to be in deep thought.

  “Call me crazy, but none of this makes sense. Why the fuck would she call you of all people if she didn’t know who the fuck you are? I’ve had enough of this foolishness, I’m leaving.” She got up again but this time Moses didn’t physically try to stop her.

  “I think I know who Rome is,” Moses announced.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  ROME WATSON

  “Fuck.” I slammed down the phone.

  “What happened? Who was that?” my partner, Greg, asked. He was a little pussy.

  I wished I could get rid of his whining ass, but I needed someone to watch my back who had as much to lose as I did. “We’ve got to get some more motherfucking guns, that’s what.” My mind was racing through the list of possibilities.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell are we going to do that?”

  I knew he was going to pussy up on me, but he was going to have to grow some balls today because the stakes just got higher.

  “Be quiet
and let me think.”

  We were in the evidence room where we’d been assigned to work as punishment of sorts. My supervisor deemed our investigative techniques to be overzealous and ineffective. His words, not mine.

  “Your thinking is what got us into trouble in the first place.”

  “Ain’t nobody tell your ass to follow me into the house. You could have stayed your pussy ass on the porch for all I cared.” Mouth-all-mighty-tongue-everlasting didn’t open his motherfucking mouth. Just as I expected.

  I was sick of having this conversation with him. There was nothing wrong with my technique; I just chose the wrong job to show it. Two-thirds of the department was on the take, and they believed that we moved more than bullet casings from the Mendoza house. And since they couldn’t prove it, we were stuck in the evidence room, which boggled my mind. If they suspected we stole something from the Mendoza house, why the fuck would they put us in the evidence room?

  “Well my pussy ass was taught to back up my partner, so that’s what the fuck I did.”

  “Then shut the hell up so I can think of a way to get out of this shit.” Frustrated, I paced the room. Ms. Boss, as Tilo wanted to be called now, was a real bitch over the phone, and I wasn’t used to her speaking to me in that manner. She acted like she owned me and slavery was over. Tilo Adams worked for the FBI, but she had close ties within the department. The official position of the department was Tilo had died in the line of duty. I knew otherwise, and I was determined to find her because I believed whatever money was in the Mendoza house, she had it. Why else would she disappear? What surprised me even more was that no one else thought about it.

  At first it completely blew my mind. I was surrounded by idiots. Then I started analyzing the people around me and realized our department was as corrupt as the now defunct police department in Colombia. They had their guns taken from them and were walking around with sling shots for protection.