Right on cue she asked Pepe, “So where did we leave off? Never mind, I got so wrapped up in that wonderful dinner that I forgot every word you already told me. Why don’t you just start over at the beginning?”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said. “About dinner, that is. Everything Benito prepares is wonderful. You should have been here last time for the pork tenderloin. It absolutely melted in my mouth. And the flan! It’s to die for.”
This was called yammering, and every minute of nonsense was another minute she couldn’t use to gather evidence. Eddie helped by bringing dessert, which was coconut rice pudding.
I moaned dramatically as I took my first taste. “This is exquisite! He’s really outdone himself.” I hate rice pudding. Nothing against any of the ingredients, just that a boy in my fourth-grade class told me it was maggots. Once that image got fixed in my head, it was all I could do to eat it without gagging.
After smoothing her hair several times, Diaz suddenly changed seats to sit between the two subjects of her probe. “So tell me about this fund. What sort of return would I be looking at?”
Pepe and Mari alternated pieces of the presentation, describing not only the general structure of the fund, but also specific details about the companies, one of which Diaz had told me didn’t actually exist. If her recording device was working, she was now getting everything she needed to make her case against both of them.
“Like all investments, the Iberican Fund isn’t without risk,” Mari said. “Most of these are fledgling companies, but the funds are heavily managed. If any of the component businesses miss their key performance indicators, we reassess our capital commitment.”
“Sounds like you earn your commissions.” Diaz raised her bracelet hand to her head again. Only this time she smiled.
Son of a Priest.
“How much do you think I should invest?”
“This is a private fund,” Pepe explained. “We’ve limited the number of investors in order to effectuate the largest returns.”
Mari took over. “Our lowest investment increment for the fund is five million, which would allow you to diversify your remaining assets. Even though we believe in Iberican, we believe even more in sound investment practices.”
That statement was all the proof I needed that neither Mari nor Pepe were the sleazebags Diaz made them out to be. Even if they’d done what she said, they weren’t without a conscience. Had they been truly malevolent, they would have greedily gone for every dime they could get.
I’d lost hope in Diaz having a change of heart. The only chance Mari and Pepe had now was for a judge to see the good in them and grant leniency.
Apparently satisfied their pitch had been successful, Pepe rose and gestured toward the forward steps. “Let’s go to the bow, shall we? It’s a lovely view coming back into port.”
Mari and I were the last ones down, and she stopped me on the sundeck for another kiss. “Thanks for bringing us a new client. I suppose you’ll be looking for a referral fee.”
A dagger straight to the heart. “I love you, Mari.”
I couldn’t tell which was more pronounced—her smile or her frown. It clearly was a puzzled look, not because of what I’d said, but the context.
“I love you too.”
It was good to hear that, since it might be the last time.
When we reached the bow, I made no effort to position myself near Diaz, since she already had what she needed. It was surprising, then, when she left Pepe’s side to stand beside me.
“I didn’t realize you were a hockey fan, Daphne.”
I experienced what’s known as a Full Body Shudder, the kind you have upon learning a loved one was in an accident or that toilet paper is hanging from the back of your pants.
“I guess you forgot we were monitoring your phone.”
My hand went immediately to my jacket pocket.
“Don’t bother. Henry turned it off already.” She sounded more disappointed than smug. “You understand you’ve committed obstruction, don’t you?”
“Señor Padilla.” It was Eddie. “Message for you on the bridge.”
The bright lights of Bayside Marketplace glowed like a carnival, the starkest contrast imaginable to how I felt inside. I hardly cared that Diaz was threatening me with charges. The only thing that mattered was her case against Mari and Pepe, and the fact I had helped her bring them down.
Pepe returned to the bow and whispered something to Lucia before wrapping his arm around her waist and staring straight ahead. He looked like Washington crossing the Delaware—strong, defiant and resolute.
We arrived at the dock to a virtual parade of men and women in black Windbreakers and caps emblazoned in gold with various initials—FBI, IRS and even MDPD.
“What’s going on?” Mari asked.
Pepe gave her a grim smile. “Do as they ask, nena, but do not speak. Everything will be all right.”
Diaz moved behind Pepe and drew a pair of handcuffs from inside her waistband. “That’s bad advice, Padilla. Don’t you want your niece to save herself?”
“Save myself from what?”
“Do not speak,” he repeated.
Several agents hopped onto the bow as we docked.
“This one,” she said, pushing Pepe forward, “and these two,” indicating Mari and me. “Keep them all separated.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I’d been left in a windowless room for over three hours, alone with three metal chairs and a veneer-topped table. At least I figured it had been that long. They had confiscated my wristwatch, purse, phone, iPod, Bluetooth earpiece and ultrasonic emitter. I was at the mercy of cockroaches. No one even cared that I had to pee, nor had they bothered to tell me what would happen next and when. That business about getting one phone call that you see on TV? Pure fiction.
Not that I had a clue who to call. The thought of seeing my calm, upstanding parents react to the news that I was in federal custody was almost worth the whole deal. My best bet was probably to call Edith, who would come down here with her gun and demand my release. I knew only one lawyer—Emily Jenko—and she was the last person on earth I wanted to see right now.
Near as I could tell, I was on one of the upper floors of the Claude Pepper Federal Building downtown. I had no idea where they’d taken Mari and Pepe but I couldn’t imagine they were far because I could hear Diaz shouting in the hallway from time to time. Couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she sounded pissed. It would be awfully nice if that meant her devious little sting had somehow failed. Maybe Henry forgot to push the Save button.
My bladder was ready to burst when the door finally opened. It was the man who had escorted Mari from the boat, which made me think she was nearby.
“Let’s go. You’re being transferred to a holding cell.”
I didn’t care if they sent me to Guantanamo as long as they let me pee first. “I have to go to the ladies’ room.”
“There’s one on the detention floor.”
“I can’t wait.”
He was younger than the other agents, which was probably why he was given prisoner transfer duty while the others put the screws to Mari and Pepe. His athletic build and baby face reminded me of Nick Johnson, the friendly officer who had worked with Delores’s brother.
“Wait here,” he said. “I’ll have to get someone to escort you.”
He left me standing in a long hallway, where the only open door was more than thirty feet away. All of a sudden, Mari emerged with her uncle Felix, the attorney, apparently having been freed from custody. She was too far away for me to read her expression but a chill ran all the way down my back when she stopped and stared.
“Bathroom, Daphne.” It was Diaz, and she was in a foul mood.
“What’s happening?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Does Mari know what I did? Did you tell her?”
Her only answer was a grunt and a mild shove in the direction of the ladies’ room.
&nb
sp; Despite my rampant confusion, I was first and foremost relieved to relieve myself. Once that was taken care of, I turned my attention back to finding out everything I could about Mari and Pepe.
“What’s going to happen to them now?”
“They’re being released. You, on the other hand, are the only scalp I have to show for eleven months’ work.”
“What the fuck?” It felt good to say that. Fuckity fuck.
“She’s done. Get her out of my sight.”
I was the only one being charged. That had to mean my surreptitious plans had worked. Their recordings were unusable and they had to let Mari and Pepe go. I’d bought them time to clean it all up before the investigators could try again. I, Daphne Maddox, had saved the day.
Being impressed with myself didn’t mean I was happy about spending the night in a cell, even though having a bed with a pillow and flimsy blanket was an improvement over metal chairs and a table. A better ending to all of this would have been me walking out with them.
I’d passed a clock on my way down and wasn’t surprised to see it was nearly three in the morning. I was tired but there was no way I’d be able to fall asleep after a night like this one.
The next thing I remembered was a light turning on in my cell and the sound of the door sliding open. Felix Padilla was standing with Diaz.
“You’re free to go, Ms. Maddox,” she said through gritted teeth, handing me an envelope with my personal effects.
Free as in just for the time being? Or free as in she had calmed down and decided not to make this personal?
Not that it mattered. Free to go was free to go, and I wasn’t going to stick around long enough for anyone to change their mind. Nor would I gloat to Diaz that she wasn’t so good at her job after all, though it was tempting.
I waited until the elevator door closed. “What’s going on, Felix?”
His only response was a finger to his lips.
It was still dark outside. A black limousine was parked at the curb and a driver in a suit and tie held the door for us.
“Am I going to be charged?”
“No.”
“What about Mari and Pepe?”
“No, this is over for everyone. I know this is confusing for you, Daphne, but you don’t need to worry about any of this. There is no record that you were taken into custody and held. It’s as if it never happened, and the best thing you can do is treat it that way and not tell anyone—”
“But what about—”
“Nope.” His finger went to his lips again. “That’s it. I’ve said all I can.”
Elena Diaz had said the same thing—she wasn’t at liberty to tell me anything. Apparently, the price of my freedom was ignorance.
The real question was if that price also included Mari. There was no way to sugarcoat the fact I’d deceived her, even though I’d apparently dashed the IRS’s plans for making their charges stick. Betrayal is one of those things you don’t forget no matter how it turns out in the end.
When we reached my building, Javier met the limo, probably thinking he’d get a big tip from someone important enough to travel in style. His face fell when I got out, but then he gave me a look of approval, like I’d been out all night with the Prince of Monaco or something.
It was just after six a.m., too early even for Edith to catch me slipping in. The Herald lay at my doorstep, its headline proclaiming news of a body found stuffed inside a vending machine at a Metro rail station in South Dade. Even if our arrest had stood, it wasn’t for certain we’d have made the papers, not in a news town like this one. We had neither bodies to hide nor novel places to stuff them, and financial fraud barely caused a blip on the radar around here, unless you used your ill-gotten gains to shower the local college teams with hookers and cocaine.
The sun was rising over Miami Beach when I entered my apartment. Since my likelihood of going to work today was below zero, I went out onto the balcony to savor the view and my freedom. It was too early to call Gisela, but once I did, I planned to sleep for hours on end.
Before anything else, though…I needed to text Mari to let her know I was sorry.
Moments later, my phone chimed with a reply: Where r u?
Home. Sorry wasn’t enough. I love u.
“I love you too.” The sound of her voice behind me nearly sent me flying over the railing.
“Jesus Jumping Rope, Mari! You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry, I was sleeping in your bed when I got your text.” She wore orange drawstring pants with the UM logo and a white ribbed tank top. Her hair was askew and she squinted against the light of day. “I told Felix he had to go back and get you out, and then I came over here to wait.”
She loved me!
I threw myself into her arms as dramatically as I could without driving both of us onto the floor.
“I don’t care what you did, or what Pepe did, or what anyone said you did. All that matters is what Felix said. It’s over. It never happened.” As long as Mari still loved me, I didn’t need to know anything else.
“And I don’t care what you did either, whatever it was.”
“They didn’t tell you?”
“Nobody told me anything. They kept asking me about the Iberican Fund but you heard Pepe. He said not to talk so I didn’t. Then Elena told me if I didn’t cooperate, you’d have to take the fall for everyone. That didn’t make any sense at all. Felix said not to worry, that he’d get you out.”
“She wanted to charge me with obstructing justice. She was trying all night to get you and Pepe to talk about the Iberican Fund so she could tape it, but I kept—”
Mari’s jaw had dropped. “You were working with Elena?”
“No!” I closed the door in case Mordy and Edith came out, and led Mari to the couch. For the next twenty minutes, I walked her through the whole ugly mess as I knew it, including the fact that Delores was probably the one who had tipped off the feds, a tidbit that turned Mari so red with anger I thought she might have a stroke.
“Pinche puta!”
Whatever she just said sounded utterly venomous and I vowed to learn it. I finished my tale by saying I didn’t care if any of it was true or not.
“Of course it wasn’t true. You know I’d never do anything like that.” Left unsaid was her growing suspicion that maybe Pepe had. She abruptly rose. “I need to get dressed and go see Pepe. Are you coming?”
We showered separately but otherwise shared the bathroom like an old married couple—an image that was verbally descriptive but not visually desirable, since it conjured mental pictures of Mordy and Edith.
Mari drove so slowly on the way to Coral Gables, I wondered if she was having engine trouble. “Is something wrong with your car?”
“I guess I’m not in that big a hurry to find out what’s going on. What if Pepe did those things? What if he was cheating our investors but got Felix to have it dismissed on some sort of technicality?”
I’d had longer to think about that question than Mari, and I knew the answer. “I had to ask myself the same thing over and over about you. That kind of disappointment in someone you love and admire is just off the scale. But even when I thought you were using me in your scheme, the thing that hurt most was thinking you didn’t really love me. Once I realized you did, I would have found a way to forgive you, because I never want to lose that.”
“You’d have stood by me even if you found out I was scamming my clients?”
“Yeah, but like I said, the disappointment would be pretty hard to deal with. I’d have to know you were genuinely sorry, and I’d expect you to make amends. That’s the only way I’d know you were really the person I loved. It’s like you told me about that Boston job I didn’t take—it’s about the future, not the past. If Pepe’s done something wrong, what matters now is what he does next.”
The grand house in the Gables gave off quite a different atmosphere from the night of Emilio’s birthday party. Pepe’s big Mercedes was the lone vehicle in the parking circle,
the only sign anyone was home.
As we neared the steps, the front door swung open to reveal her beloved uncle, dressed casually in gray slacks, sandals with socks and a white Panama shirt.
“You don’t seem surprised to see us,” Mari said drily.
“I’m only surprised it took you so long,” he answered, smiling with what looked like a combination of mischief and pride. “Good morning, Daphne.”
We traded kisses as if getting arrested together was the most normal thing in the world.
Lucia made the moment even more surreal when she appeared in the foyer and did the same. “Café con leche,” she told the housekeeper, along with a few words I didn’t understand.
Nothing rejuvenated like strong Cuban coffee. Two shots of scalded espresso with four sugars and whole milk would have me awake until day after tomorrow.
Pepe led us all through a set of double doors off the living room that had been closed the night of the party. It obviously was his study, and it held a sofa, several leather chairs, bookcases and an enormous carved mahogany desk. We’d just gotten settled when Mima’s caretaker rolled her into the room in her wheelchair.
It was sweet how they included Mima in all their important family discussions, as if to assure her that despite her age and declining health, she would always be their matriarch. Mari and I greeted her as the coffee was delivered, and the housekeeper closed both doors on her way out.
Pepe sipped his coffee and cleared his throat. “I should first apologize, especially to you, Daphne, for the events of last evening. In hindsight, we should have anticipated that our actions might trigger an investigation, but we had no inkling they would involve you.”
So there was something. I could see Mari stiffen beside me on the couch, as though bracing herself for bad news.
“I was advised by my attorney, who happens to be my younger brother, to tell no one of the events of last evening, but I cannot leave those I love in such darkness. However, it is absolutely essential that what I’m about to tell you never leave this room. Is that understood?”
Playing With Fuego Page 21
