“You've had many women, I'm sure.” Emilio was sourly thrown back to that painful memory of witnessing Antonio take his beloved Marianna. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I have done many horrible things, and there is still time for me to make some of them right.”
“Jesus, Antonio, you sound like a wounded woman.” Emilio knew he was pushing it by speaking to his brother this way, but he wanted to slap the man. He was usually so strong. Was El Patrón breaking for some reason? Was he losing his mind? If so, Emilio would be able to take it all over with ease.
“No, I am a wounded man and there are things that need to be done and I'm telling you what those things are.”
Emilio waited, not knowing what to say.
“This other woman that I loved died recently.”
“Sorry.” This was so strange. Emilio shifted uneasily in his chair.
“This woman had my son.”
Emilio gasped and fell back into his chair as if he'd been punched. “What did you say?”
“I have a son. His name is Alejandro Peña and he lives in Los Angeles.” Antonio handed him a piece of paper. “His address is in there. You are to go there and check on him. Make certain he is all right and keep an eye on him for awhile until you hear back from me.”
“Excuse me? I don't understand.”
Antonio raised his voice finally. “You don't have to understand. What you have to do is go and check on my son, and leave it at that. He's lost his mother and all I want to do right now is make certain that he is all right. After that, I'll figure out what to do.”
“How old is this boy?” Emilio asked.
“Almost twenty.”
Another gasp. “I see. Fine.” Emilio took the address and walked out the door. He made it to his Maserati and slammed his hands against the wheel. Antonio had a son? Antonio had a son. With this news, Emilio knew he would have to find a way to use this boy — this Alejandro Peña — to help him destroy his brother, because he wouldn't allow some bastard prodigy his brother now seemed to want to claim, to disrupt his plans to become El Patrón.
****
EMILIO LIKED LOS ANGELES: THE NIGHTCLUBS WERE GREAT, drugs were abundant, and women crawled all over him. He'd been partying for a few nights and had heard through the grapevine that his brother was trying to locate him. Fuck Antonio. But he knew that Antonio would track him down if he didn't report back to him before too long.
Emilio believed strongly that he would still be the Patrón and run the entire operation one day, and that day would come soon. His mind was already working on how the kid might be manipulated into being of great service to his own plans.
He drove past the address his brother had given him. “Down and out in little Tijuana,” he muttered through the blasting sounds coming from the rented limousine's loudspeakers.
He decided to ask around about the kid and see if he could dig up any information. The first couple of places where he stopped were markets, and no one wanted to give him the time of day. The people he came across were poor Mexicans, who didn't like this rich guy coming around.
He finally pulled the limousine over to a group of young men, standing on a street corner. They all glared at him as he pulled up and got out.
"Hey ése, what you want round here?" one kid asked him. "You want some weed, man?"
"No way man. This dude, he want some blow, don't you?" another kid asked.
"Actually, I'm looking for a guy," Emilio replied.
"Hey, man, I guess we can't help you then."
Emilio pulled out a wad of cash. At the same time, he flashed the gun he carried in his holster. The young men looked at each other.
"You ain't no cop, is you, cuz?"
"No, I'm not the police. I'm looking for an old friend."
"Who you lookin' for?"
"A kid named Alejandro Peña." Emilio could see in their eyes that the name registered.
"What you want with Alex, ése?"
"I wanna talk to him."
"He ain't available to be talking to. If you wanna talk to Alex, you gotta talk to me first."
"Is that so?" Emilio was feeling out the punk kid, not too sure how far he could push him. His instincts told him not to push too hard while all his buddies were still around.
"Yeah, man, so what's it gonna be? Either you talk to me or take a hike."
"Can we go for a drive and talk?"
"Oh, sure man. Like I'm gonna get in your car. What you think, I'm crazy or sometin'? No way, ése."
"My business with Alejandro is private. I wouldn't want to embarrass him by talking in front of his amigos." Emilio could see the kid's doubt. He was looking him over again, full of suspicion.
"I dunno who you think you talkin' to, man. But me and Alex are big people ‘round here. I ain't talkin' to you no more. You had your chance. I don't like your business. I think you'd be a smart guy if you got the fuck out of here 'fore my friends and I have to mess you up or sometin'."
Emilio put his hand over the revolver inside his jacket. He wanted to shoot this little smartass then and there, right in front of his amigos. But he knew he needed this punk to lead him to Antonio's son.
“No problem, amigo. I'm leaving,” He announced, slowly backing away and walking around to the side of his car.
*****
“HEY MAN, THERE WAS THIS GUY LOOKIN' FOR YOU TODAY,” Hector told Alejandro.
"Oh, yeah, who?" Alex mumbled, not looking up at his friend. He was reading through a book of poems his mother used to read to him when he was a little boy. She'd been dead nearly a month, and his pain was as sharp as the day he watched her die. Elisa had begged him to move in with them and stay for a while, but he really hadn't felt like living with anyone. Besides, he couldn't bear to part with the home in which he was raised. It still contained so many memories of his mother that at times he would pretend she wasn't dead, but on a vacation somewhere. She always talked about taking a trip. Maybe that's where she really was, and this was a terrible nightmare.
"Didn't you hear me, man? I said some rich guy was out looking for you today. You in some trouble I don't know ‘bout?"
"No, I have no idea who it would be. Probably a mistake or something."
"No way, this guy wanted you. Don't worry though, I didn't tell him nothing."
"What do you think he wanted?"
"I dunno, said it was important. Maybe he wanna make a big deal or something. You know, ése, we big men round here now. Word is getting out."
"I doubt it. Besides, I think I want out." Alex couldn't help the nagging guilt he still felt over his mother's death. If only she had known that he wasn't angry with her before she died. But she hadn't known, and he'd been so cruel to her the night before. God, he hoped she knew how sorry he was. He missed her so much. Money didn't matter to him the way it did before she was killed. Buying a mansion for himself didn't hold the same appeal without her around.
"You what? You crazy or something? We're starting to make some cash. You can't back out now. No way. Besides, you gotta pay the rent somehow, and you ain't gonna do it flipping burgers at McDonald's."
Hector had a point. He also wanted to continue saving enough money to go to college, in hopes of making restitution for the pain he'd caused his mother. "Yeah, maybe so. It's my mother, though. She wanted more for me, you know? She's probably tossing in her grave, knowing what we been doing this past year."
"I don't mean your mama no disrespect or anything like that, but she's gone. There's nothing you can do, and we both know she'd want you to make it. If we keep it up, we're gonna make it, man, both of us — like we talked ‘bout. Besides, we don't sell nothing to our own kind. We ain't poisoning our families, only the gringos, blacks, and whoever else wants a piece — as long as it ain't our own.”
Hector was right about that. In a way, it made sense. Poison the rest of the world, but keep their own people straight, and one day they would rule — the Hispanic nation would rule. "Maybe you're right.”
&nb
sp; "Yeah, I'm right and you know it, too. You'll see man. I guarantee this guy today was looking to score big. Our man Jay may have turned him onto us.”
"He hasn't said anything to me about it."
"Hey amigo, I know it's been rough lately. Someone could talk shit to you and you wouldn't notice.”
"I know. You think this man will come back again looking for me?" Alex was intrigued by the prospect of a big spender out to make a deal with him. Maybe they were becoming more powerful than he'd realized.
"Yeah man, he'll be back. He'll definitely be back. This guy was looking to score big, and he had the cash to do it with.”
“Then why didn't he just talk to you?” Alex asked closing his book and walking over to get a Coke out of the fridge.
“I dunno. You the smart one. Maybe he hear you the business man in our game — and he look all biz, you know — so maybe he figure he better talk to you.”
“Whatever,” Alex replied.
“Whatever? You wait, ése, I got a feeling this thing with this moneybags is gonna be real good for us. Real good.”
“Like I said, amigo, whatever.” Alex gulped down the rest of his Coke, wondering about the mysterious moneyman.
*****
EMILIO SPOTTED THEM FROM A BLOCK AWAY. IT WAS THE smartass, and the other one had to be Alejandro. They were laughing and pushing each other from side to side, kicking a can down the trash-ridden street, looking pretty much like best friends. Emilio had been following Smart Ass for a day now, knowing he would eventually lead him to the kid.
"Follow those kids," he told the driver of the limo. "When they stop, you stop and don't move again until they're both in the car." Emilio glanced at his bodyguard and occasional assailant. Rico didn't smile, but then again he never did. He hardly ever spoke, but he was useful at what he did.
The limo pulled up next to the boys. They were pointing at it, laughing about who might be inside. “Hey, maybe it's Dinero,” Alex commented.
“No way, it's that Charlie's Angels chick. You know the hot one with the hair. She come looking for me. You know she hear I'm real good and everythin'.”
“Who, Farrah Fawcett?”
“Yeah, that's the chick. She's so foxy.” Hector whistled at the limo.
“You wish.”
“You know it, man. You know and I know it ain't Farrah Fawcett. It's that guy lookin' for you.”
They stopped. Emilio rolled the window down halfway. He leaned back in the seat so the boys couldn't get a look at his face and stuck a double-barreled, sawed off shotgun out of the cracked window.
"Get in the car," he ordered in his husky voice. He could see the boys look at each other, paralyzed by fear. "If you don't want to die right here in this sewer, you'll get the fuck in the car.”
The driver stepped out and opened the limousine side door. The boys' mouths dropped wide open. Looking at the giant, they didn't waste any time scrambling to get inside the car, even though their instincts told them both to run like hell. It was pretty clear that the guy's threat was no bluff.
Alex was not the kind of man to have his nerves shaken up, but he broke into a nervous sweat. Who was this guy and what did he want? Alex had never ridden in a limousine. It smelled like new leather and alcohol. There was a small bar, and the guy with the gun had a drink in his other hand. He wore dark sunglasses and didn't say a word, his lips pursed together, his hair back in a tight ponytail as slick as his black suit. Unable to see his eyes, Alex wondered what he was looking at. He didn't think the man wanted to kill them. If he'd wanted to do that, he would've done it while they were on the street. Why go through this huge ritual of getting them inside the car? He wondered if Jay had something to do with this. He was the only one Alex knew with enough cash to rent a limo. But why? Why would he do that? Unless he wanted to screw him and Hector over. But for him to do that he would have had to meet with their connection, and that probably hadn't happened.
"Like a drink?" the man asked, reaching for a glass. His fingernails were long and polished to the point of being borderline feminine, and Alex wondered if he was possibly a homosexual who'd kidnapped them for a good time. He shifted slightly in his seat.
"No, thank you. What I want to know is what we're doing here," Alex said, tired of this man's game. The man didn't speak for a couple of minutes and Alex wondered if he had made him angry. Alex looked at Hector who'd lost all color in his face and hadn't moved since they'd gotten into the car.
"I have a business proposition for you."
"Really? And what is that?"
"I've been watching you. Heard a lot of good things about you. I understand your business and I think together we could make a lot of money."
"What business?" Alex asked.
"Let's not play head games, amigo. I am a very busy man."
"How do I know you're not a cop?"
"How many cops you know drive around in limos?"
"Why do you want to make a deal with us? There's gotta be a lot more guys out there bigger than we are."
"True, but I like you. You're one of us. You don't sell to your own kind, at least this is what I've heard."
"You hear correctly, but where do you get your information?" Alex still wasn't too comfortable with the man and especially the gun sitting on his lap.
"I've got a lot of friends, and I'd like you two to join the ranks of our organization."
"What organization?"
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Emilio Espinoza. My brother is the one and only Antonio Espinoza.”
Alex recognized the name. He knew the man was major in the coffee and emerald business. He'd also heard the name passed around in circles involving drugs. Somebody at one point told him if they wanted to get into doing some big-time business then they would need to get involved in the Espinoza clan. But he also heard that it was a difficult thing to break into the family ranks.
"I have heard of you." Alex tried to sound unimpressed.
The man chuckled. "You've heard of us. We are only one of the most powerful families in Central and South America. We do huge business in various degrees with the United States and portions of Europe."
"What type of business?” Alex interrupted.
"As if you didn't know. My brother and I have heard some things about you and your small but profitable business. We'd like to help you grow, and in return we make a nice amount as well. What do you think?"
"I don't know what to think. I'm not sure what you're asking of us."
"We want you to distribute for us in Los Angeles. It's gotten to be too much work to do by myself. I'm constantly flying back and forth from here to the Bahamas and to Colombia. We have a very lucrative gambling business in the South Pacific that is requiring more of my attention. Business is booming and I'm finding I don't have the time to do it all. I did a little investigating and decided you gentlemen would be perfect for the job. I like dealing with my own kind. I figure brothers in culture are less likely to screw each other than brothers in nothing at all."
"What do you want us to distribute?"
"A little of this, a little of that. We have some large crops of Acapulco Gold growing in the Andes, and we're getting involved in the coca business."
"Cocaine?" Alex asked.
"You got it. I know you are a little young and have a lot to learn, but that's not an obstacle. I want to prove to you I'm serious. Like I already said, I've checked you out and I know what you'd be good at. Alejandro, my friend, you have a head for business. I can feel it, see it. Here's ten thousand dollars. I want you to take it, buy some nice clothes on Rodeo Drive. I think once you learn something about finance, you'll be a major asset to us."
The man handed him ten thousand dollars, in one hundred dollar bills. Alex stared at the money. He'd never in his life held that much money in his hand. The most he'd held at one time was a thousand because any profit they'd made was turned around and put back into the business. Hector nudged Alex.
"And of course I couldn't forget a
bout you, Hector. My guardsman." Hector moved in his seat a little. "That's right, boys. In the type of business we're involved in, and the quantities we'll be dealing with, we're going to need a militia crew. And it will be up to you, Hector, to manage and train them. Most of these men will be young like yourselves. They will be illegals and brought over here. You will give them a job on the street peddling and finding various contacts. They will also help move the drugs into the States through various means. Alex will then learn how to launder money through legit businesses. I know you have a friend over at USC, named Jay. I've checked him out, and his family is in the jewelry business. We'll see if we can't set up something with him. But I don't want anyone to do anything without my permission. Do we have a deal?" Emilio handed Hector an equal amount of cash. "Get rid of that mustache, too. We're professionals, not gangsters.”
Hector rubbed the skinny mustache he'd been trying to grow for months, his face flushed from embarrassment.
"What do we get out of it?" Alex asked, trying to put the money out of his mind and get to the facts.
"A nice place to live, women, money, power, whatever you want. Can you handle it?"
"I think so."
"Good." Emilio shook Alex's hand and then Hector's, who was smiling, dumbfounded. “Now, here's your new address. I think you boys will be happy there. Don't worry about the rent. It's already been taken care of. You'll both be provided with cars as well, so I suggest if you don't have driver's licenses, you look into it. Here is my private line while I'm in Los Angeles. If you need anything, I mean anything — money, clothes, whatever, you call me." Emilio removed his glasses and his brown eyes gleamed at the canary he knew he'd just swallowed. Staring at Antonio's son with his plan already set into motion, Emilio knew it was only a matter of time before the empire was his.
The boy looked a lot like Antonio — a good-looking young man — definitely from the Espinoza lineage. He loved the idea of using the kid to destroy Antonio.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Chills & Thrills: Three Novel Box Set Page 32
