Chapter Forty-Six. “Hola.” Carlos Santiago answered the phone in Rodolfo’s suite.

“Hola.” Carlos Santiago answered the phone in Rodolfo’s suite.

Rodolfo had been working the phones trying to find Nunzio or Junior Luca, but had come up empty. He was used to having people jump when he barked, so being ignored had left him in the mood to take it out on the people who still did listen to him, Carlos included.

“Who’s calling?”

In the chair Rodolfo found most comfortable he gestured to Carlos to tell him who it was.

“A moment, Ms. Casey, and I’ll see if he’s available.” Carlos put his hand over the mouthpiece and said, “It’s Cain for you.”

“Cain, what can I do for you?” he asked after ripping the phone away from Carlos.

“I need to arrange a meeting whenever you can spare the time. Tomorrow, if it’s possible.”

“How about here in the hotel?”

Cain laughed. “I’m already popular enough with the FBI. I don’t need the DEA added to my alphabet soup. We can meet at my office if you want. I’ll have someone pick you up.”

“I’m an old man who’s lived long enough to know not to go to dangerous places.”

“We can make it someplace neutral if you like. I’d offer Ramon’s place, but he’s mourning the loss of his child. If you come to my office, we’ll be able to talk freely, and I guarantee your safety.”

“Send directions to my man Carlos and I’ll be there,” Rodolfo said as he stared at Carlos. “I have your word, and you have mine that I had nothing to do with what happened to Remi. If that’s what you wish to discuss, I don’t have any information.”

“That’s not why I need to talk to you. Until tomorrow,” Cain said and hung up.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Carlos asked as Rodolfo tapped the receiver against his chin.

“She gave her word on our safety, and to Cain that still means something. This isn’t about threats or business, and I’m curious. The last person I expected to hear from today is Casey. She isn’t the type to ask me for anything, so this has to do with either Juan or the Lucas.” Rodolfo put the phone down and stripped off his jacket, since he wasn’t planning to leave the suite until the morning. “Speaking of which, have you gotten Juan on the phone yet?”

“I tried the house again an hour ago and he’s still not there. He’s probably in the apartment downtown sulking for being sent home like a child.”

The information only darkened Rodolfo’s mood. “You sure this line is safe?”

“Nunzio’s men checked it again today.”

Rodolfo dialed the number to his house in Cozumel and asked the maid for his sister. “Graciela, where’s your son?”

“I don’t get a hello?”

“You’ll get thrown out of my house and off my bankroll if you don’t answer my question. Where is he?”

“He said he needed some time alone. That’s all he said when I saw him.”

“You’re sure you saw him and didn’t just talk to him on the phone?” Rodolfo asked in a tone that dared her to lie.

“He’s back, if that’s what you’re worried about. You should worry about how to get him to trust you again, after you humiliated him.”

“Try your best to stay away from the coke and find him. You have two days.”

“You can’t blame me this time. He’s gone because of you—you find him.”

“I told Juan what it would take to stay in my good graces, and he pulls this. If you want me to find him I will,” Rodolfo said, cracking his knuckles, “but if it comes to that, neither of you will like the outcome.”

“You can’t touch him and you know why.”

“I’ve given him everything and he repays me with nothing but disrespect. Maybe it’s time for both of you to learn how hard it is to make a living in this world.” Graciela was screaming something as he hung up.

“He’s still not at the house?” Carlos asked.

“No, and my gut is telling me he’s about to screw up this deal.”

“If you give me permission to handle it, I’ll send some guys to all the places he probably is. If they find him, I’ll order them to escort him back.”

“Do it. Find Juan before his stupidity destroys us.”

“Who?” Juan watched the afternoon news, the footage of Remi dominating the coverage.

Anthony sat, his eyes on the screen, so restless he felt like peeling off his skin. Instead of being in the middle of the investigation, he was stuck with Juan as the idiot made plans he wouldn’t share. It had taken Anthony awhile, but he finally spotted the surveillance outside. The DEA carried out their operations differently, but they were still visible if you knew what to look for.

“I don’t know. Considering it was Remi Jatibon, there’s a long list of possibilities,” he answered Juan. The loop they had the TV story on had gotten boring, so he stood up and cracked the curtain just a hair to scan the grounds in front of the hotel. The agent was sitting at the café on the corner pretending to read a book. Different guy, but he was still third in the lineup in the shifts. Unless you were trained to see patterns, you’d miss him.

“That’s another bitch who should’ve learned to stay home and bake cookies.”

“Things are going to get tight from a law-enforcement standpoint.” Anthony came close to ripping the curtains off the hooks when he saw Joe walk up and join the DEA guy at the café. His being there had nothing to do with Juan and everything to do with him. “We have to get out of here.”

“What are you talking about? You going crazy on me or something?”

“Look down there and tell me what you see.”

“I don’t see anything,” Juan said, peering through the crack Anthony allowed him. “You break into my stash or what?”

Anthony let go of the drapes and put his hand on the box Juan was talking about. The teakwood had lotus flowers carved into it and resembled the jewelry box Anthony’s grandmother had. But his grandmother kept the few pieces of jewelry she owned in hers, whereas Juan’s was full of high-quality cocaine that he shared with his friends.

“The guy in the white T-shirt is DEA, and the other one’s name is Joe Simmons. I used to work with him.”

“How’d they know we’re here?”

“Because you people travel in packs so it’s not hard to track you. You couldn’t trust me to pick you up, so the idiots you had meet me there ended up doing something to someone who works for Cain. That’s not exactly the definition of laying low.” He picked up his car keys, wanting to get away from Juan and think. The more time they spent together, the stupider he was becoming. “Did they fess up to what exactly they did?”

“We didn’t hear about anything in the airport.” Juan waved his finger between them. “You people can’t help but splash your business in the news, and there was none from that day. Nothing happened.”

“When it’s blatant like today, that’s true. But not when there are enough cops to contain it and it’s to our advantage. But hey, what do I know?” Anthony hit his chest with his fists. “You’re the guy with all the answers and I say, have at it.” He opened the door to the room and the sound of the hammer on a gun cocking stopped him cold. With his hands up and out, Anthony turned around.

The desk drawer was open and Juan was aiming a 357 magnum at his chest. “You leave when I say you can fucking leave. You understand?”

“If you aim it you’d better be prepared to use it, and if you kill me—”

“What, I’m going to get in trouble for killing an FBI agent?” Juan closed his eyes momentarily when he laughed, but not long enough for Anthony to tackle him.

His question had him, though. He could stay and keep pretending, or he could admit why he was really here and get rewarded for his honesty with a bullet that could cut him in two. “I can’t help you if you won’t let me. If you don’t want my help, then why the hell am I here?”

“Sit down,” Juan said, “and close the door.” The box’s hinges made no noise when Juan opened it. He scooped a bit of the white powder onto the sight of his pistol and snorted it off before dipping his finger in and scrubbing it along his teeth. The drug, Anthony guessed, was what made him shake like a wet dog.

This behavior had surprised Anthony. He’d thought people like Juan sold this stuff but were smart enough not to partake. That was a myth. Juan and his men were all hooked, and the level of the box never went down.

“Do you need something?” Anthony closed the door and sat down as far to the left as he could to have a chance of reaching for his gun, if it came to that. “You haven’t up to now. Between making jokes about me and whispering with your friends, you’ve got it all under control. There’s no need for me to be here.”

“You know why I haven’t told you my plans?”

“Considering all I’ve given up to help you, I’d love to hear it.” Anthony crossed his legs and clamped his mouth closed, trying to keep down the nausea as he watched Juan dip the tip of the gun into the cocaine again. He silently wished Juan just needed another hit.

“You with me, Mr. FBI, or you with G.I. Joe on the corner?” Juan neared and pointed the barrel under Anthony’s nose. “You want me to let you really work for me?” He pressed the barrel to the skin of his upper lip. “Then show me you’re with me.”

Of all the things that could’ve popped into Anthony’s head, his talk with Annabel Hicks came to the forefront of his mind. The Bureau always knew what you did wrong, no matter how much you tried to hide it, and they didn’t care what your reasons were. This was his line in the sand. If he crossed it he could still go back, but the return would be tainted.

“My uncle’s a fool, but he’s right about you,” Juan said.

The words weren’t a commentary on the truth but, in Anthony’s mind, a taunt. He looked directly at Juan and snorted the coke off the pistol, then repeated the action when Juan held it up on the opposite side.

Anthony felt like someone had pried shingles off his eyes and he was seeing the world in its true bright colors for the first time. The drug pulsed through his system and wrapped seductively around his brain, making him feel euphoric enough to question why he’d fought so hard to keep this away from whoever wanted to use it.

“Tell me,” Anthony said. The barrel of Juan’s gun was still pointed at his head, but he was flying too high to think about fear.

Juan put his gun down and his hand on Anthony’s head. “Whatever you want to know.”

Annabel and her warnings melted from his thoughts as he looked at Juan. He’d taken his chances and now was in the stronghold people like Shelby and Joe would never find. There was only one difference in his plans. He would take Cain and Juan out, but no matter how that went down, the teak box was his. No way was he giving up the chance to feel like this again.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-31