by DiAnn Mills
“We don’t have to do this.”
“But I want to. Give us time to talk.”
Talk about what?
His cell rang and broke the moment, if there was a moment being had. Kariss turned her attention back to her laptop and pulled up the proposal for Shadow Play, the title she’d chosen for her first romantic suspense novel. The hook was strong. She’d send the chapter, synopsis, marketing plan, and a paragraph about the two protagonists.
“Kariss.”
She lifted her gaze back to Tigo, whose face looked drawn.
“I’m sorry, but we’ll need to reschedule our dinner celebration.”
“No problem. What happened?”
“My mother just passed away. I’m heading home as soon as I inform Linc and Ryan.”
“Would you like some company?”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “No need to interrupt your day.”
Kariss closed her laptop. “You shouldn’t go through this alone.”
“I’m okay. I’ve known this was coming. She and I planned her funeral several months ago. And the nurses know what to do.”
“I’m sure they’re excellent and will take care of your mother just like they’ve always done. But nothing prepares us for the reality of death. Let me help.” She pressed a tight smile. “I can follow you.”
He nodded. “Thanks. I live in the Spring area.”
She slipped her computer into its sleeve. She’d never done anything like this before. But she couldn’t imagine going through a parent’s death alone. Maybe he had siblings or other close family. But he hadn’t talked about them. How sad.
On the way to the parking lot, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He appeared locked into his thoughts, grieving in his own way. She’d not interfere with his sorrow. Simply be there, a step forward in her faith.
Cheeky studied the spreadsheet that detailed how each section of his business progressed — the amount of money made, the percentage of increase, and who worked the area. Every day he studied what was happening and if his members were doing their jobs. Only Cheeky and his cousin in Mexico had access to the spreadsheet, which was on a network secured by the best money could buy.
He settled back in his chair and smiled. Paulo’s work proved his loyalty when he’d taken care of eliminating Froggie’s family within four hours. Neat. Clean. Baffled the policía, but they recognized the Arroyos’ signature. Soon he’d take his place within his cousin’s cartel. All he needed was to find two people.
His cell rang. Paulo. “What do you have?”
“Bates is the one informing the policía when our mules head to the border.”
Cheeky clenched his fists. Bates would pay and so would Masterson. “Good job.”
“I have more. The man who killed three Arroyos? He’s FBI Agent Tigo Harris. I know where he lives.” Paulo laughed. “And he’s friends with that Kariss Walker. Found out where she lives too.”
“Al fin les pesqué.”
“Yes, boss, you’ve caught them. Want me to kill them?”
Cheeky wanted them dead, but he had another plan that took care of all he needed to prove his power in Houston. “I’ll tell you when to pick them up. We’ll have a party.”
Tigo’s emotions felt as if they’d been suspended. He wasn’t one to cry, but shouldn’t he feel like it? Mom no longer endured the suffering, and for that he was grateful … thankful. But he’d miss her — or rather the mother who used to listen and encourage him with endless wisdom.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. Kariss followed close behind. He wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to her trailing after him like he needed someone to hold his hand, except he feared being alone. What a statement. The rogue special agent who burrowed his way undercover to stop crime had confessed to needing another human being. Kariss Walker had become a friend. That knowledge kept him from picking up his phone and telling her he’d changed his mind.
Who else should he call? He’d already phoned the priest and the funeral home. A third cousin lived in Dallas and another in Omaha. A few years earlier, he’d tracked his father to Northern California where he lived with a much younger wife. They had three daughters together. At the time, Tigo didn’t make contact. But out of respect for his mother, he’d inform his father after funeral arrangements were made.
Upon arriving home, Tigo recognized the priest’s car. Natalie would have his mother’s body clean and ready for the funeral home to pick up her body. He’d already instructed Natalie to make sure her pink suit was available … her favorite. Just like she’d requested months ago. Every time he’d left his mother, he kissed her good-bye, but this was the final one. Emotion bubbled inside him, but he’d grieve privately. Another reason why having Kariss here was a good decision. He must remain in control while confirming arrangements with the priest and talking to Natalie. Still, memories of happier times needled at his impassive resolve.
He waited at his truck for Kariss to walk up the driveway.
“Anyone I can call for you?” Her smile helped him to stay calm.
“No thanks. I’ve got it handled.” They walked to the front door, and he gestured for her to step inside.
Once in the foyer that opened into his living area, Kariss turned to him. “Go tend to your mother, and I’ll wait here.”
He let her compassion settle into his bones. “I won’t be too long. Natalie and Father Upchurch are here somewhere.”
“I’m fine.”
Tigo walked the hallway to his mother’s quarters, the part of the house designated as Francisca Harris’s home. She’d overseen the decorating in shades of light green with brown and cream accents and picked out the traditional furniture. The idea was when she recovered, she could enjoy her area in privacy. Her bedroom adjoined a sitting area with a flat-screen TV, a small fridge, a coffeemaker that ground fresh beans, and a microwave. She also had her books, the classics she called friends.
Natalie met him at the bedroom door. The priest had obviously finished because he offered his condolences and left Tigo alone … with his mother. Taking her hand, cold and limp, he sat beside her as he’d done so many times before.
“You really look beautiful, and your face is peaceful. Like I know you are. It’s over, Mom,” he whispered and blinked. “You fought the fight, as you so often said. Now you’re in a better place. I know your faith in God brought you through this and to the finish line.” He stroked her hand. “Thanks for all you did for me. I know I told you that many times, but it bears repeating. Without your help I’d be in prison. Or dead. You successfully knocked the chip off my shoulder and replaced it with good values. Things that make me the man I am today.”
He could almost hear her reminders and swiped at his nose. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll start going to church. Linc’s been asking me for a long time. It’s not Catholic, but you’re the one who said the same God lives in the hearts of all believers who’ve sworn allegiance to Christ. See, I bet you didn’t think I was listening.” He stroked her lifeless hand. “I haven’t forgotten you wanted me to mentor teen boys, ones at risk. I’ll do that too.
“One more thing, that woman I’ve been talking about? She’s headstrong and witty. Pretty too. I can say we’re friends. Not sure where it’s going, but I want to try. She’s made me mad more than once, but when I thought about it, I realized it was because I cared a little. Too many times I wish you’d been able to talk to me about her.”
That’s when the tears poured like a pent-up dam.
CHAPTER 53
Kariss walked through Tigo’s living room, large and tastefully decorated in rich shades of brown and tan, with a cocoa-colored leather sofa and dark woods. Accents of coral and gold caught her eye. A vase looked like it came from the Middle East. Perhaps his mother had traveled there. A wall of windows opened up to a magnificently landscaped yard.
She wandered into a huge kitchen, where the enticing aroma of coffee filled the air. Copper pans hung over the stove, complemented by rich cabinetry, brown
and black granite countertops, and a coffee bar. A priest stood with an attractive blonde woman, and Kariss approached them to introduce herself.
“I’m Kariss Walker, Tigo’s friend.”
The woman reached out her hand and smiled, a genuine gesture. “I’m Natalie, Mrs. Harris’s hospice nurse.”
The priest extended his hand, a middle-aged man with lots of gray. “I’m Father Upchurch.” His grasp was firm and his response kind. “I know the name sorta gives me away.”
She liked him instantly.
“Would you like coffee?” Natalie said. “We were just about to have a cup. It’s fresh. I knew Tigo would want some once he got home.”
“I smelled it the moment I walked in. That would be lovely.”
Natalie turned to the coffee bar. She reached for two cups, filled them, and handed them to Kariss and Father Upchurch. “All the fixings are right here.” She gestured to the bar, where every manner of creamer and means of sweetening the coffee were available. “Thank you for being here. Tigo doesn’t have much family.”
In an instant, Kariss’s large family swept across her mind’s eye. She couldn’t imagine being alone. “Is there anything I can do?” She picked up a small pitcher of creamer and dribbled a generous amount into the dark, rich brew. She stepped away to allow Natalie and Father Upchurch access.
“Consolation is the only thing I can think of,” Natalie said.
“What happens with Mrs. Harris now?”
“She’s been bathed, and we’re waiting for the funeral home to arrive.” Natalie glanced at Father Upchurch, and he took a sip of his coffee.
“Are you Catholic, Miss Walker?” he said.
“No. I’ve attended a wake but not a funeral service.”
“The wake will be at the funeral home. The Mass will be at the church where Mrs. Harris holds her membership. From there, the procession will move to the cemetery for a graveside service.”
Kariss nodded at the priest as though she knew the procedures for a Roman Catholic burial. She wondered if friends brought in food. Her mother would probably have the answer. “I haven’t known Tigo very long, but it appears he’s devoted to his mother.”
“He’s a good man. A good son,” Father Upchurch said. “I’ve been called here before to administer last rites, and he’s always been attentive. You’re blessed to have him as a friend.”
She was blessed in many ways. “Yes, I am. He … saved my life. Without his wisdom, I’d be dead.” She shivered. “I’m sorry. The happening is still raw, and I’ve been thankful for every breath of life since then.” Offering a smile, she then stared at her coffee. “Today is about Tigo and his mother, not me. I apologize for making it seem so.”
“Talking about God’s deliverance is always appropriate.”
Kariss lifted her gaze to meet his. The priest knew God. More than that — he walked with Him. They had a kinship, and the thought filled her with peace. She turned to Natalie. “He speaks highly of you and the others who have given care to his mother.”
“Thank you,” Natalie said. “I work the afternoon and evening shift. Every night he sat by his mother’s side. Ate his supper there. Worked until way up into the night. Talked to Mrs. Harris as if she were cognizant.”
“How very caring.” Another characteristic of Tigo that surprised her. She’d seen his gentle side during the times she’d been frightened. Again she considered the complexity of this man.
“And the roses.”
Kariss tilted her head.
“Mrs. Harris loved red roses, and Tigo made sure she had a fresh bouquet every five days.”
Kariss remembered the way he’d examined Vicki’s roses and the compliments. Now she understood his interest. She vowed to be more attentive to her own parents. “This home and neighborhood is beautiful.”
“I agree. Tigo purchased it new when he returned from Saudi Arabia about seven years ago to take care of his mother. The size and layout were perfect, and you can see he keeps it in immaculate condition.”
He’d been in Saudi Arabia? That explained some of the accent pieces in his living room. “How long have you been involved with Mrs. Harris’s care?”
“Nearly a year. She’s been a fighter.”
“Are you an agent too?” Father Upchurch took a sip of coffee.
“No, sir. I’m a writer. Tigo has been helping me with research for a novel. I was at the FBI office when he received the call and I asked if I could accompany him.”
“He never talks about his work,” Natalie said. “Our conversations have been about the care of his mother — and when to expect his arrival.”
The new information about Tigo touched her. She’d judged him by his professional mannerisms, his attention to detail and bringing criminals to justice. Later, when this was behind him, she’d ask about his time in Saudi. How commendable for him to return to take care of his ailing mother. A mystery man for sure. At that moment, standing in the kitchen of Tigo’s home with his mother’s hospice nurse and a priest, Kariss couldn’t think of a single trait that didn’t fall under the category of an honorable man.
Early Friday morning, Kariss exited the church after the Mass for Tigo’s mother. The ceremony had been meaningful, respectful. The attendees were solemn, and there was no music. That aspect surprised her. She expected more of a celebration.
She’d come alone and sat midway in the church. Linc and Ryan had arrived ahead of her and sat closer to the front. The crowded church indicated the number of people Mrs. Harris had impacted positively during her life. Although she’d lived the past two years as an invalid, she’d contributed to many worthwhile projects within her church and community.
Kariss had heard wonderful stories at the wake about how she’d taken care of the poor and the elderly. A good woman who lived her faith. Someday Kariss would ask Tigo more about her. Maybe that would be a good conversation for later, since he’d asked her to stay after the meal at his home. She’d be there for him because it was the right thing to do. Considering he’d saved her from being killed and made sure the Arroyos believed he’d disposed of her body, she’d do just about anything for him. But her presence was more than an obligation or a responsibility. Her fragile faith encouraged her to reach out. She’d always been giving, especially to children. But that came from what happened at the day care. This new devotion came from what Jesus had done for her.
At Tigo’s home, the hours inched by until the last person paid their respects and left. The caterer and his servers packaged up the leftovers. Tigo paced the floor like a caged cat, clearly stressed from the day.
“I didn’t eat, and I’m starved,” he said to Kariss. “The food here had death oozing from it.”
“I understand.” She’d been too preoccupied assisting the servers to eat. “I haven’t either.”
“I appreciate how you jumped in and took care of people. Thanks. I owe you.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a mannerism she hadn’t observed in the past.
“You don’t owe me anything. Glad to help.”
“I’ve instructed the servers to take the leftovers. The food would just sit in the fridge and spoil.”
“What do you suggest? I’d offer to cook, but it wouldn’t be edible.”
He gave her a half smile. “We could go somewhere.”
“You’re worn out, Tigo. Why don’t I go pick us up something?”
He looked around as though lost. “Sounds like a good idea. Can’t believe how late it is. Anyway, there’s an Italian restaurant about five minutes from here. I could call in an order.” He picked up a book on grief that someone had left for him. He leafed through the pages then set it aside. “Sure you don’t mind?”
“No problem. Just point me in the right direction.”
Tigo appeared to labor over the menu, but Kariss recognized the signs of mourning and his need for a time to be alone. She’d linger a bit in picking up the food.
Outside in the starless night, the hot Houston air seemed to wrap a blanket ar
ound her. She’d never minded heat and humidity, and her travels across the country to colder and dryer areas made her uncomfortable. Tonight, the heaviness nearly stole her breath away. Perhaps it was the funeral.
She walked down the driveway to her car, which was parked at the curb. Glancing up, she admired the neighborhood. Lights in the windows of well-kept homes and the quiet sounds gave her a sense of peace.
“Do not turn around or scream.” A sharp object pressed against the small of her back. The Hispanic male voice with a lisp caused her head to spin. Although he spoke English, she knew without hesitation who’d come for her.
“Takes guts to accost a woman in this area,” she whispered.
“Only takes a few seconds to send this knife through you. Walk across the street to the parked car.” He nudged her forward.
The car was a Lexus, fitting for the neighborhood but not the man behind the knife.
“Why should I? You’re going to kill me anyway.”
“This way you keep Tigo alive. He can’t save your neck this time.”
How did they find out? He’d been so carefully disguised that she hadn’t recognized him. Someone had sold them out.
But who?
CHAPTER 54
Tigo checked the time. Kariss should have been back with dinner over twenty minutes ago. Wouldn’t she have called if she had been delayed? He pressed her number into his cell. After the fourth ring, it went to voice mail.
“Kariss, it’s Tigo. Seems strange you’d be this late. Give me a call.”
Ten minutes later, he phoned the restaurant. She’d not picked up the food order.
Snatching his keys and wallet, he headed to the garage and raised the door. She must have had car problems. But why hadn’t she called for help? A trace of alarm inched through him. He’d planted all the right seeds for the Arroyos to believe she was dead. Even had a bogus article placed in the paper about finding a dead woman that fit the time and description of the gun deal.
