“I thought they were arguing again about his drinking. But then Cido said something about someone’s wife being dead now, and it caught my attention.” She huffed loudly. “He slurs like an idiot when he’s been drinking, so it’s kind of hard to understand him, even though he talks loud enough when he’s drunk. I didn’t catch everything, but I distinctly heard him say he wasn’t above murder if he was pushed to it.”
Feeling her jaw drop, Isabella gasped. “What?”
“Que, Mija?”
Waving her mother off, she listened intently as Magdalena went on. “Yes. I was trying so hard to listen, but we were busy, and I kept having to go back to paying attention to the customers putting in their orders. I heard him say something else about him being the rightful owner now, and him not backing down, no matter how much whoever’s pinche entitled ass felt. It makes total sense now that this all went down. Someone’s wife is dead now. I missed bits and pieces, but I got enough to know they’re in deep. Octavio kept trying to calm him and tell him he didn’t want that kind of trouble, but Cido was adamant that he was the rightful owner now and whoever it was he was talking about better not fuck with him.”
“Ay, Madre.” Isabella shook her head covering the phone. “Thank God we got away from them when we did.”
She assured her mother she’d give her the blow-by-blow of everything Magdalena was still talking about when she got off the phone with her. “The very next day,” Magdalena went on in that still hushed voice. “I worked the morning shift, so Cido was sober. He took us outside to give us a team meeting and talk to us about the competition getting heated. He asked us all to be on the lookout for anyone staking out the truck and let him know immediately. Te lo juro por Dios, Isa. I’m getting chills right now just thinking about it. He gave us the make and model of the car and even the description of the guy to be on the lookout for. But can you imagine? Given everything that’s gone down, this might’ve been someone that could’ve shown up to shoot up the truck: the husband of the dead woman coming to get his vengeance on Cido, if in fact he had anything to do with it.”
Isabella felt the chills now too. The calls from Cido had started up again just over a week ago. It’s why, when her mother was home, she did all the answering. Isabella refused to talk to him. After hearing Alej say he’d run into Cido recently and that he’d told him everything, Isabella had been curious if that’s why Cido was calling her again. But she was glad now she hadn’t given into the temptation of talking to him when he’d called days after seeing Alejandro.
“Well, thank God you don’t even have to decide if you should keep working for them anymore.” Isabella took a seat on the sofa. “My mom always says everything happens for a reason, and now you know better than to keep working in such a dangerous environment.”
She spoke to her friend for a little longer before hanging up and catching her mother up on everything Magdalena had told her. They were both in agreement that Diosito had been looking out for them and they’d been lucky to get out just in time. Once again, Isabella couldn’t help thinking, despite the pain, being reunited with Alejandro, even if it was too late for them, had somehow saved her and her mother from possible danger.
One thing was for sure now. She’d wanted to avoid things getting too ugly and having Cido show up when he couldn’t get a hold of her any other way. But after today’s news, she’d be changing her number. He’d have to know that, after hearing about his dangerous lifestyle, she’d want nothing to do with him. First thing in the morning, she’d call the phone company and get an unlisted new number.
Not even two weeks later, Magdalena called to give Isabella the heads-up about Cido and Octavio being out on bail. It seemed unfair. They’d even managed to get two of their trucks back and within days were back in business. How in the world was that even possible? Isabella had thought they’d get the book thrown at them. That they’d be in jail for months if not years and that for sure they’d never be allowed to do business in the states again. Wasn’t smuggling things into the country a federal crime? From what Magdalena had shared with her, Cido might have blood on his hands soon, if he didn’t already. If anything, their visas should’ve been revoked, and their asses should’ve been deported at least until they went to trial. Instead, they were back to business as usual, earning money alongside all the other hard-working legal business owners.
According to what she’d read in the paper, they had one of the best legal teams’ money could buy. Apparently, their illegal dealings had been quite lucrative. They’d used their dirty money to get out of jail, and now it’d likely buy them a slap on the wrist. It was maddening. But at the very least, she didn’t have to worry about him calling her anymore. She only hoped that, with all his legal issues, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to do anything stupid and show up at her place or her work to harass her. So far, there’d been no sign of him, and as each day that passed with him out of jail and he didn’t show up, she got more confident that he wouldn’t.
It was Isabella’s day off, and she was meeting Magdalena for a late breakfast in Old Town San Diego. She’d been sitting outside the restaurant where they’d be meeting, sipping her coffee and reading the paper, when she got the odd feeling she was being watched. Looking up from the paper, she fully expected to see Magdalena nearby walking toward her. But she was nowhere in sight. Glancing around, she didn’t notice anyone else looking her way.
A few minutes later, Magdalena approached her table all wide-eyed. Isabella peered at her curiously. “What?”
Magdalena took the seat across from her, putting her things down on the empty chair adjacent to the table. “I talked to Jose Luis last night. He’s one of the newer cooks they hired on after you and your mom quit. He’s still working for Cido and Octavio. Says he needs the work even though I’ve warned him again and again that it’s not worth the danger. He said Cido swears up and down that it was all a misunderstanding and that he and his dad had nothing to do with smugglings. They’re even pleading not guilty.”
“I read that.” Isabella frowned, motioning to the newspaper on the table. “Did you tell him about Cido saying he wasn’t above murdering if he was pushed to it?”
“I did. I did, but he doesn’t buy it. Says Cido is full of shit, but get this.” Magdalena’s excitable eyes went even wider. “He said he heard something similar, but he’s pretty sure Cido knocked someone up. Because he overheard him ranting about warning some dude to stay away from his pregnant girlfriend.”
Feeling her jaw drop, Isabella waited anxiously for the rest of the chisme as Magdalena paused to sip the glass of water the waiter brought out to her and then ordered coffee.
“Oh my God.” Isabella gasped but couldn’t help smirk. “That explains why I finally got rid of him. I really expected him to show up when he couldn’t get a hold of me on the phone. Good riddance, but poor girl, whoever she is.”
Magdalena grinned wickedly. “You think it’s anyone we know?” She thanked the waiter who dropped off her coffee but then turned back to Isabella.
Isabella shook her head. “No idea. But then whoever he might’ve been seeing, even if it was back when he and I were still talking, he would’ve never mentioned it to me.”
Rolling her eyes, Magdalena shook her head as she stirred her coffee. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me that he’d be a sneaky bastard, even when it comes to that stuff. Didn’t you say he was still calling you just a few weeks ago?”
“Yes.”
They put in their orders then continued to happily gossip. “Oh.” Magdalena pointed her coffee stirrer at Isabella. “He did say he also heard something about someone’s wife being dead. Only Jose Luis insists it didn’t sound like anything heinous the way I made it sound.” She rolled her eyes but waited for the waiter to drop off their breakfast and walk away before going on. “He says I’m biased and I’m just looking for more where there really isn’t. Keeps trying to convince me to come back to work. Says they’re still really busy.”
Shaking h
er head adamantly, Isabella wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t know. I’ve known Cido most my life, and I would’ve never taken him as someone who had it in him to even be around criminals. But ever since this all went down; it makes me wonder how random Cido’s uncle’s murder really was. I wouldn’t even consider going back.”
“Oh hell no.” This time Magdalena did the adamant head shaking. “Jose Luis said they’re not even parking in the usual spots anymore. Because Cido’s still that paranoid about”—she lifted her hands and did air quotes with her fingers—“the competition staking out the trucks. He’s still telling them to keep an eye out for anyone who might be suspiciously parked around the truck, watching them.”
Stopping before putting the forkful of food in her mouth, Isabella peered at Magdalena. “Yeah, what’s he gonna do if they do spot someone?”
“Exactly. You think I wanna be there to find out? No, thanks.”
They continued to chat, as they finished off their breakfast. After breakfast, they strolled around Old Town for a while before heading to the theater to catch the matinee. Isabella had avoided watching romantic flicks for years, but everyone was raving about a musical that’d been out for weeks now, and Magdalena had finally convinced her to go see it with her.
“They say it’s more about the music and dancing than anything, and it’s supposed to be funny too.” Magdalena had said. “And come on, John Travolta is in it. What more can you ask for? The guy is so hot.”
For the most part, Isabella had enjoyed it, except for the part where Olivia Newton John sang Hopelessly Devoted to You. Thankfully, it’d been dark in the theater because Isabella had actually shed a few tears. She already knew, even before the movie was over, she’d never be able to listen to that song without getting completely choked up.
They parted ways after the movie, as Isabella headed out to run several errands she needed to take care of. By the time she’d made her final stop at the market, it was already getting dark, but she was finally done with her errands and headed home.
It wasn’t until she was almost home that she remembered her mother had picked up a double shift that evening. Isabella would be on her own for dinner. She made a U-turn at the intersection before she got home so she could grab something at a drive-thru. Like that morning when she got the odd feeling she was being watched, she now got the creepy feeling she was being followed. A car she didn’t recognize made the same U-turn she did behind her. Thankfully, the creepy feeling ceased when she stopped at the light. She watched as the car slowed several car lengths before reaching the light she was stopped at and pulled into a driveway.
Feeling silly, Isabella exhaled and continued on her way. When she was finally home, her phone was ringing. She set her things down, rushing to the phone, and answered.
“You really need to get an answering machine,” Magdalena huffed. “I’ve been calling you for over an hour.”
Isabella pressed her lips together, reaching for the fries in her bag of food. “They’re expensive.” She popped a fry in her mouth and readied herself to hear more chisme. “Que onda?”
For someone that seemed anxious to talk to her a moment ago, Magdalena was suddenly quiet. But then Isabella heard her exhale. “Okay, at first I thought it might just be a coincidence.”
Three fries later, Magdalena still didn’t clarify or go on. “What might be?”
Isabella grabbed the bag with the food and pulled out the chicken fingers she’d gotten. Already she could tell Magdalena might drag this out.
“So, when I got home, I saw I had a message because, unlike some people, I invested in an answering machine.”
Rolling her eyes with a smirk, Isabella opened the container to the sweet-and-sour dip for her chicken. She got as far as dipping her chicken strip in it but stopped before biting into it and frowned. “Y, que? Why you being weird? Spit it out already.”
“The message was from Jose Luis. He called to rub it in about me totally getting the dead wife thing I overheard wrong. Said he knew I’d heard it completely out of context because Cido had ranted about it again earlier today.” Isabella heard Magdalena take a deep breath before going on. “Jose Luis said, because of me, he paid closer attention this time and at first thought maybe I did have a point because Octavio sounded like he was trying to calm Cido. Like maybe he was worried about it. Then he heard Cido say he actually felt bad for someone named Alej losing his wife the way he had.”
Freezing before taking another bite of her chicken, Isabella’s heart thudded, but then she shook her head. Alej was a common name. Surely Magdalena couldn’t be thinking this was her Alej. Isabella wouldn’t even go there.
“Still, doesn’t mean Cido didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“That’s what I thought, especially because in the message he didn’t clarify how she died. So, I called him back. Both because I wanted clarification, and not gonna lie, I wondered if there was any chance this might be your Alejandro Cido was talking about.”
“Magdalena, that’d be terrible. Even I wouldn’t—”
“It was pregnancy-related, Isa. Jose Luis said all he heard was that it sucks that this Alej guy lost both his wife and unborn child—over ten months ago.”
With a sudden gasp, a speck of food flew to the back of Isabella’s throat and she began hacking. Even sucking on her soda didn’t help. Minutes later, and her mascara all runny, she was finally able to breathe in without continuing to hack.
Finally, she’d been able to pick up the receiver she’d since dropped on the sofa and talked into it hoarsely. “You still there?”
“Yeah, you okay?”
Wiping at her eyes with a napkin, Isabella nodded, still feeling stunned. “I’ve been eating this whole time on the phone,” she explained, still clearing her throat before taking another swig of her soda. “Something went down the wrong pipe.”
Her friend didn’t comment. Instead, she remained quiet as if waiting for Isabella to respond to what she’d just told her.
“Magdalena,” she whispered, pushing her food into the bag it came in and throwing it in the trash. “It feels wrong to even consider the possibility that it might actually be his wife. Almost like God will punish me if even a small part of me is hoping it is and I would never—”
“I know you would never, and neither would I. My first thought was ni lo mande Dios. But, amiga, what are the odds? And why would Cido keep ranting about it?”
Isabella shook her head, as the weird feeling of dread sunk to the pit of her stomach now. “I don’t know. Because he rants about anything when he’s drunk?”
“Think about it though. Why would he continue to bring it up, and why would it sound like Octavio was trying to calm him?”
“Because it’s so sad?”
“No,” Magdalena countered immediately. “Trust me, I thought about this long and hard before calling and putting things in your head when we don’t know for sure. But if it is Alejandro and it’s been over ten months, it could mean Cido’s worried that Alejandro is now free to pursue you?”
Stopping in her tracks, Isabella thought about that for a moment before shaking her head and dismissing the idea before she was struck by lightning. “But Cido’s got a pregnant girlfriend now. Why would it matter to him now if . . .”?
She couldn’t even bring herself to say it. It’d feel like she might be considering the possibility that Alejandro had really suffered such a tragedy. Like she’d allow her heart to be hopeful about something so horrid.
Magdalena was busy giving Isabella her theory about Jose Luis possibly hearing that out of context just as she had about the dead wife thing when Isabella was hit with another thought.
If there was any truth to this tragic news, then technically, Alejandro was free to pursue her. Had been for months. He even told her himself that he knew all about her not living with Cido anymore and getting another job. He’d wished her the best even before dismissing her so swiftly. Which meant one of two things. Either they had it all
wrong and it was a completely different Alej Cido had been referring to, which Isabella genuinely hoped, or it was the same Alejandro who knew she was free to pursue now, and yet he chose not to. Very possibly because he couldn’t get past the betrayal of her and Cido.
“Thinking it really feels like I might be hoping it might be true, and that feels like bad juju, Magdalena.” In her room now, Isabella sat down on her bed. “If it really is true, and I honestly hope it’s not because I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, least of all on Alejandro, but if it is true he knew where to find me. Even after I moved and quit. Up until a few weeks ago, my number was listed for months, and he had the opportunity to say something when we ran into him at the festival again. But he never came looking. So, I’m just gonna sincerely hope it’s not him Cido was talking about.”
For once, Magdalena didn’t have a retort. She might even be feeling bad that she hadn’t thought this through and now Isabella had even more to ponder when it came to the heartache of losing the love of her life. Either he was still happily married with a family now and completely unattainable or woefully uninterested in anything with her ever again.
Capítulo 22
Eres Tu!
Isabella
Of course, her well-meaning but tenacious friend was not about to let this go. Magdalena showed up the next morning all gung-ho about being convinced that Cido had been talking about Alejandro’s wife. Isabella walked back to the kitchen, torn between feeling sick for Alejandro if it were really true and feeling heartbroken that, if so, he really had no intentions of ever reuniting with her.
Moreno's: Moreno Brother's prequel (Moreno Brothers) Page 19
