Ripped Apart

by Miriam Minger

  CHAPTER NINE

  Rancho Sabinas

  North of Monterrey, Mexico

  “What the hell’s wrong with this phone?” Eduardo muttered. Every time he tried to call Xavier’s number, he got nothing but a beep.

  He should have received an update from San Antonio by now. Everything should be done, finished. Xavier was one of his best men and had worked for him for years. He’d never shown Eduardo anything less than unquestioning loyalty and almost frightening competence, Xavier so thorough that Eduardo had decided to send only two men to do the job.

  Francisco was another story, younger and hotheaded but a deadly marksman. Only Clare Carson had been left to eliminate, mere child’s play for either one of them, so why the fuck—

  “Eduardo, look! I think he’s waking up,” Maria cried out with excitement.

  He glanced at his wife who hovered at the head of the hospital bed set up in what used to be Daniel’s room. Her white satin nightgown in stark contrast to her black hair streaming around her, her feet bare, her lovely face as pale as death, she looked like the mad heroine out of some Italian opera.

  Cursing to himself, Eduardo shoved the phone back into his pocket.

  He forgot. Maria was mad. She had to be to have insisted Eduardo bring this American child to Mexico. The only difference now was that she was smiling instead of distraught, tears of joy shining in her eyes. Eduardo drew closer as Maria sank to her knees beside the bed and took one of the boy’s small hands in hers.

  “Daniel, my sweet son. Open your eyes for Mama. I’m here. I’m here.”

  It almost sickened Eduardo to watch her, yet he could not deny that his son’s heart beat in this boy’s small chest. That thought alone compelled him to move closer to the bed. He gestured for the graying cardiologist and two nurses, one woman and one man, to leave them, and they quietly filed past him to the door.

  “Don’t go far. I want you to stay close in case…” Eduardo didn’t finish the low-spoken command because he didn’t want to think about Daniel’s heart giving out at the very moment Maria began to weep noisily with happiness.

  “Oh, my son. He’s looking at me, Eduardo. Daniel’s awake. Our son is home.”

  The little boy blinked above the white mask covering the lower half of his face, worn the next few days the doctor had explained to protect his weakened immune system. His eyes were green, not a warm brown like Daniel’s, dark blond hair, pale, freckled skin—

  “Mama’s here, Daniel, Mama’s here. I’m so glad you’re home with us again.”

  Eduardo had to swallow hard and turn away for a moment, reminding himself that he was now the father to this child as surely as if he’d been born a blood son.

  Eduardo had already decided they would tell everyone the boy had been adopted from Canada, just as he’d explained to the physician and nurses who would provide Daniel with round-the-clock care. Money, of course, spoke in this situation, too, a great deal of money, and these medical people would believe anything he said because he’d paid them to believe it.

  Introducing family and friends to the boy would be a different matter, but Eduardo had no intention of doing anything like that for a long time. Not until Daniel was healthy and grown accustomed to his new parents and his new life. Thank God he was so young and would soon forget the life he’d known before. One day, it would all seem like a dream to him and then, even that dream would one day disappear.

  “Greet your son with me, Eduardo. Take his hand.”

  Eduardo moved to the bed and obliged Maria, the boy clearly fading in and out of sleep as Eduardo bent over and cradled a limp hand. He suddenly felt a powerful surge of what emotion, he could not say, but just touching the boy made him think of the beating heart that gave this child life and breath.

  It was true. Daniel was alive. His beloved son had come home.

  “He must rest, Maria. It’s time we leave him.“

  “No, I will stay. When he wakes again, he will see that his mother is by his side. My love will help him grow strong, you will see.”

  There was no point in trying to argue with her. Eerie determination shown in her eyes, and she hugged the railing on the side of the bed as if she feared someone might try to pull her away. It worried Eduardo that she grasped the boy’s hand so tightly now that she might cut off the circulation in his small fingers. He made his voice as comforting as possible to ease her anxiety although he felt growing irritation at her.

  “No one will make you leave if you don’t want to. I’ll have a bed brought in for you so you’ll be comfortable.“

  “Save your concern for your mistress and your son, Eduardo.” Maria’s gaze burned into his and she rose from the side of the bed to face him. “You’ve given me what I wanted and I haven’t forgotten why. It would be wise for you not to forget. Very wise.”

  Rage welled inside Eduardo but he could do nothing but stare back at her, feeling impotent. No madness shown in her eyes at that moment, only a familiar seething hatred that he’d seen the day she first made her threat. He had no doubt that she would still speak to Manuel if provoked, which enraged him all the more. She had him by the balls and there wasn’t a fucking thing he could do about it.

  “I’ve forgotten nothing.” Eduardo’s throat was so tight that he felt like he was choking on his words. “I’ll leave you alone now with Daniel.”

  “You swore no one would take him from me. Did you see to it that—”

  “I said I’ve forgotten nothing. I brought you here to the ranch, didn’t I? More privacy than in town, no prying eyes. You know this place is a fortress, so you’ve nothing to fear.” Eduardo turned from the bed, certain if he stayed a minute longer he would reach out and snap her neck. He’d already pulled the cell phone from his pocket, but he needed the seclusion of his office. He needed to find out about Clare Carson.

  Damn it, he needed her to be dead.

  “Call in the doctor on your way out, Eduardo. Daniel’s starting to move around again. He’s waking up…oh, God, he’s calling for his mama. I’m here, Daniel, I’m here.”

  Eduardo threw open the door to the bedroom and gestured for the doctor and nurses to enter but he kept right on going, the cell phone pressed to his ear.

  * * *

  “Something’s gone wrong. I can feel it.” Eduardo paced the well-appointed hotel suite, his footsteps making no sound across the thick carpet. "I’d told Xavier not to call again until the thing was done but that was last night! I should have heard from him by now.”

  Silence greeted Eduardo’s outburst and that only made him angrier. He glanced across the room at the American who sat coolly in a leather wing chair, his expensive suit impeccable, his legs casually crossed. The Facilitator was the very picture of unruffled composure while Eduardo was sweating like a pig.

  “This concerns you, too, don’t forget,” he said, lashing out. “If I go down, we both go down.”

  “No one’s going down, Mr. Ruiz. Your wife has what she wants, correct?”

  Eduardo nodded but didn’t cease his pacing. If things had gone smoothly he wouldn’t have drawn the Facilitator into this mess. He didn’t want the bastard knowing his personal business, but there was no going back now.

  They rarely met in person. It wasn’t wise for either of them, but he’d hastily arranged this meeting at a downtown hotel and filled him in on what had been done to bring Daniel to Monterrey. The American hadn’t blinked, appearing unfazed that there still might be unfinished business in Texas, but he knew as well as Eduardo how inextricably their fates and fortunes were entwined.

  “Perhaps it’s simply taking longer for Xavier to get the job done,” the Facilitator added.

  “What? To squeeze off a round and shoot some stupid bitch in the head?” Eduardo stopped to pick up a half empty glass of Scotch and tossed down the rest of the contents. “He’d already told me they missed her in the hospital parking lot. Last I heard she was holed up at the main police station while Xavier and Francisco were parked down the st
reet and waiting for her to come out.”

  “So they had to bide their time. If the police were already involved, it’s probably made things more complicated for them.”

  “Or fucked things up completely.” Eduardo didn’t know if it was the lousy Scotch burning his gut or his instincts, but something was telling him that things hadn’t gone so well in San Antonio. “We need to get somebody there. Now. Find out what the hell’s happened.”

  “It will be arranged. I have contacts in the San Antonio area.”

  “I never doubted that you did.” Eduardo felt some satisfaction that suddenly the Facilitator didn’t look quite so unruffled, but was staring intently at him. Probably thinking about the potential of Xavier and Francisco in police custody. Either that, or thinking about Clare Carson still alive and looking for her son which made Maria’s threat all the more dangerous. “If my men or their mission have been compromised in any way, if they’ve been jailed, anything—”

  “It will be handled.”

  Eduardo knew exactly what the American meant, which was exactly what he’d wanted to hear. If something had gone wrong, Xavier and Francisco would have to be killed.

  “We’re finished then, for now. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” Eduardo strode to the door but an audible curse behind him made him turn around.

  The Facilitator had risen and stood looking out the window, his demeanor as calm as ever but for how tightly he gripped the back of the chair. His knuckles were white. Eduardo again felt that niggling sense of satisfaction, but he kept any hint of it from his voice. “I’ll contact you, of course, if I hear from Xavier.”

  “That would be the best of all outcomes, wouldn’t it? A call from Xavier, the Carson woman dead, your wife content, and our business back to usual. I’m sure, Mr. Ruiz, you look forward to that as much as I do.”

  Eduardo stared at the Facilitator, the familiar formality grating on him. He could read nothing in the man’s face that matched the barely concealed irritation in his voice.

  No doubt the Facilitator was angered by their current circumstances, but Eduardo had assisted him in previous tight situations—one in particular that still sickened him to think of it. He had his own sexual perversions, but even Eduardo had to admit that the American was a sick depraved bastard. God, what a perfect pair they made.

  “Yes, a few details to be seen to and then business as usual. Feel free to make your calls here if you want.” Eduardo heard another low curse as he headed for the door, but this time he didn’t turn around.

  * * *

  “Fucking cretin.” He stared at the door a long time after Eduardo had shut it behind him, still scarcely believing everything the bastard had told him.

  He’d known something was up when Eduardo had asked him to get information on a heart recipient in San Antonio after his son Daniel had become an organ donor by mistake, but nothing could have prepared him for Eduardo’s story today.

  Maria had threatened to go to Manuel Castillo if Eduardo didn’t bring her son back to her so he’d obliged her, leaving a string of dead bodies in south central Texas and a little boy in Monterrey with Daniel Ruiz’s heart beating in his chest.

  Incredible.

  Insane—no, maybe genius. Eduardo knew they were both dead men if Manuel ever discovered the small but profitable empire they'd built behind his back. Instead of feeling pissed off, he should have thanked that cocky Mexican shit for agreeing to Maria’s demand.

  That is…unless Xavier and Francisco had screwed up their assignment like Eduardo suspected. High time for the Facilitator to get to work so their little empire kept right on ticking.

  The nickname Eduardo had bestowed upon him both irritated and amused him, but he supposed it was appropriate. He did get things done. He did make things happen. He’d made himself a very rich man and that was worth cleaning up after Eduardo’s fiascoes every once in a while.

  The first item on the list was Xavier and Francisco. God help the poor bastards to find a free moment to call Eduardo, or they would soon find themselves with their tongues silenced forever.

  Next item, Clare Carson. If Eduardo’s men had missed their prime target, she’d jumped to the top of the list. The one thing he and Eduardo had always agreed upon was the importance of tying up all loose ends—and now more than ever.

  “Bring the car to the front, Hector. I’ll be right down.”

  He pocketed his cell phone and left the hotel room, flicking a piece of lint from the sleeve of his new Armani suit.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “How’s it going in there?”

  Clare jumped at the sound of Jake’s voice outside the bathroom door and turned from the mirror. “Okay, I guess.“

  “Well, let me in—if you’re dressed, of course.”

  She wasn’t, not completely, but stood there in a new pair of Levi jeans and her bra. “Just a minute.” She grabbed the black T-shirt Jake had bought her and pulled it over her head, then took another glance at the brunette stranger in the mirror.

  Her dark blond hair was gone, replaced by a deep brown shade that made her face look even paler.

  She had to look different, Jake had explained, otherwise someone in law enforcement might recognize her when they went to the airport to catch their flight. On the way to Austin, he’d stopped to buy hair coloring, some shoes and clothing and now he wanted to see the results.

  Clare opened the door. Jake was leaning against the opposite wall in the cramped motel room. His eyes critically swept over her.

  “Looks like everything fits.”

  “Yes, it does. Thanks.”

  “We’ll dump your other stuff on the way to the airport. Too much blood to wash out.”

  He’d said it so matter-of-factly, but the tight set of his jaw told her that he was thinking of Doug McKain.

  High school buddies, he’d told her in one of his few revealing moments during the hour-long drive to Austin. They’d lost touch when Jake had gone into the military but renewed old ties when he’d returned to San Antonio and bought a ranch. Jake had fallen silent at that point and stayed that way until they got to the motel.

  Clare ran her fingers through her still damp hair. She was grateful for the hot shower she’d taken but she didn’t want to dwell, either, on the blood that had swirled down the drain as she’d washed off her face and arms.

  “Think the hair color will be okay?” Clare’s face grew warm while Jake studied her. “It’s pretty dark.”

  “Still not dark enough to not be taken for a gringa, but better than standing out too much with that blond hair. At least this way you’ll melt better into a crowd…but that length’s gotta go.”

  Jake took Clare’s arm and steered her to the toilet. He threw down the lid and gestured that she sit, and then he disappeared into the interior of the room for a moment and returned with a pair of sharp-looking scissors. Clare edged a little away from him.

  “What’s wrong with the length?“ she asked doubtfully.

  “Still look too much like you did before. Short hair’s better.”

  She swallowed hard and closed her eyes as he began to cut, telling herself that she’d decided to trust this man no matter what. That meant her hair, her son, her life. She had no idea what he was doing, but it didn’t take him very long.

  At one point his callused finger brushed her cheek, warmth rushing to her face, and then the clipping stopped. Scissors clattered onto the sink ledge and she ventured to open her eyes. Jake studied her with what she could swear was a trace of amusement, though his expression remained serious.

  “Haven’t you had a man cut your hair before?”

  “No…I mean, yes, I have, but not like you. I mean, he was gay, a hairstylist—”

  “Probably have a heart attack next time he sees you, but it’ll do. Take a look.”

  Clare rose, thinking more about Jake saying the hairstylist would see her again than about her hair. For the first time her situation didn’t seem so impossible and she felt a real glimmer
of hope for herself, for Tyler. Maybe Jake didn’t secretly believe her hours were numbered, but that she and her son might still have a future—

  “That bad, huh?”

  Clare shook her head and hoped she didn’t look too surprised at the starkness of her reflection in the mirror. “No, no, it’s fine.” As Jake studied his handiwork, she forced a small smile. Her hair thankfully wasn’t as short as his, but shorter than it had ever been before and cropped close to her head, yet strangely it wasn’t unattractive.

  “Okay, one more thing done. Are you hungry?”

  Her stomach rumbled but she shook her head. She felt disloyal to Tyler that she would even think of wanting to eat, or to even sleep while he might be suffering—

  “Starving yourself isn’t going to help your son. He’ll need you to be strong. I need you to be strong, too, otherwise you might as well stay here in Texas.“

  “I’ll eat, okay?” Irritated that Jake had so accurately read her thoughts, she turned from the mirror to face him. “He’s my son. I can’t help but be worried about him.”

  “Worrying makes you weak. Better to keep it in your mind that you’ll see him again, right up there with how you’re going to accomplish it. Agreed?”

  Staring into his eyes, she nodded to humor him. She was a mother, for God’s sake. Jake knew damned well she’d continue to worry about Tyler but he seemed satisfied with her response.

  “Good. One last place to hit before the airport. We’ll grab something to eat on the way.”

  “You got us on a flight?”

  “Yeah. Ever heard of Tampico?”

  Clare shook her head but Jake was already steering her out of the bathroom.

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s far away and as good a place as any to get our ducks in a row. I’m not taking you into Monterrey until we’re ready. All we need now is Canadian documents.”

  “Canadian?”