Anointed (Vanished Book 3)

by Michael Arches

  Carlotta pulled her hand back. “But is not a word I hear often in response to an order. No matter how difficult the task I give you, or how blindingly stupid you think I might be, I expect immediate compliance. Otherwise…”

  She glanced at the whip on the sofa.

  Viola needed to get her mind right and damned quick. “Si, Señora.”

  She took a deep breath then swallowed the tequila in a couple of gulps. It burned like hell on the way down, making her eyes and nose water. She fought to keep from coughing.

  Carlotta acted as though she didn’t notice. Instead, she set both of their glasses down on an end table and circled Viola as though she were appreciating a statue in a museum.

  “You’re not as plain as you look on your firm’s website,” the jefa said, “but I’m hoping we can improve on that. Ghosts should be beautiful if they possibly can be.”

  Viola was completely lost. She was a damned accountant, usually hired for her brains. She didn’t need to be a cover girl.

  Viola was four inches taller, at six feet, but Carlotta took a firm grip on her chin and pulled her face down. “When I speak to you, don’t look away like you disagree.”

  What a bitch! Worried that her voice might crack, Viola nodded a couple of times.

  The woman grabbed a fistful of her long, dark brown hair. “Is this your natural color? It’s better if has not been dyed.”

  Again surprised, Viola almost asked why she could possibly care, but her cheek still burned from the slap. “Si, Señora.”

  “Take off your clothes. I need to see your skin.”

  That was too much. Viola began to tear up, but she unzipped her bike riding outfit.

  Carlotta waited until Viola had removed everything.

  “Stop sniveling, or I will give you something to blubber about.”

  This woman was the bitch to rule all bitches. I need to pay her back someday.

  No great escape plan came to mind, so Viola stood motionless. Carlotta circled her again, and her hands probed Viola’s skin, touching every imperfection. Why would she care?

  Carlotta’s voice turned sarcastic. “Have you ever been with a woman, chiquita? I thought you looked at me that way.”

  What utter bullshit! The woman was doing everything possible to humiliate Viola. To change the tone of the conversation, she said, “Never in a romantic way, Señora. But I do respect strong women.”

  The older woman snickered as though she didn’t believe her. “Well, ghosts don’t need lovers, and you do nothing for me. Gather your things and follow me.”

  More riddles, but Viola was beginning to realize that she didn’t want to know some of the answers. More humiliation surely lay ahead as she was paraded around the house buck naked.

  -o-o-o-

  FBI Denver Field Office

  Beau Boudreau had just finished tying up loose ends on several cases. He anticipated three glorious weeks of vacation. Hopefully, Leo would be a quiet baby. Fat chance.

  That was the thing about kids. He had to give to them without any expectation of something back. That was the deal his parents had accepted, and he was trying to meet their lofty standards.

  He was just putting away his open files when his favorite CSI from the lab, Laura Perdue, called. She wanted to check on Athena. Laura was the only person within the Bureau who knew about his relationship with very pregnant Athena. And Laura remained openly skeptical about Beau’s repeated claim that he wasn’t the baby’s dad. She was a grandma who loved bragging about her grandchildren.

  But this time, she said, “So, Boudreau, you tied everything up, and you have nothing to do, right?”

  He didn’t particularly like the direction this conversation was headed, but she was right. “Maybe.”

  She snickered. “I know you. Couldn’t wait till the last minute just in case the baby came early. And now, you’re hanging around without anything to do.”

  Nailed it, again. “Maybe.”

  “Well, I’ve got an interesting little problem you might want to fiddle with.”

  That confirmed his suspicion. “Listen, I could get a call from Athena at any instant. In fact, I’m surprised I haven’t heard from her already. I keep checking my phone to make sure the battery isn’t dead.”

  “Fair enough,” Laura said. “I get that new parent thing. When my first kid decided to come, I’m talking thirty years ago, I got one of those maybe-it’s-nothing contractions. Still, I wasn’t taking any chances. Stopped typing a letter in midsentence. Within a minute, I’d left the office. But the kid didn’t show up until almost a full day later, and he’s never been on time since. So, you might as well be productive while you wait, n'est-ce pas?”

  She liked to throw those little French flourishes in to remind him how much she’d loved her recent trip to New Orleans. He’d given her lots of suggestions about places to go. “Bien sûr. What have you got in mind, madame?”

  “It’s probably nothing, but my husband’s youngest sister’s daughter just got her first job out of college. She’s an intern at an engineering company. The pay is lousy, so she shares an apartment with this sweet baby accountant named Viola Hawkins. Anyway, my sister-in-law just got a call from Viola’s boss. Viola never showed up for work this morning. I checked with my niece, and this morning, Viola left on her bike as usual. Everyone swears the girl never gets a wild hair up her ass. So, something could be wrong.”

  Laura knew better than to send a flare up so quickly. Beau asked, “Exactly how long has the young woman in question been missing?”

  “Only two to three hours, and I know about the twenty-four-hour thing. Plus, sure, Yang hates these kinds of cases, but I’m really worried.”

  “That worried enough to go looking for yourself?” he asked, hoping that would chill her out.

  “I was going to,” Laura said, “until I remembered that you’re the superstar missing persons finder. And I know you don’t have anything to do right now but pick lint out of your navel. Maybe you could kill a few hours figuring out which bar she started drinking at this morning. I’ll consider it a personal favor and smoke you an entire ham with that special seasoning you love.”

  He would’ve looked into it anyway, particularly after being flattered so thoroughly, but he wasn’t going to pass up the ham. “Got yourself a deal. I’ll do as much as I can until Athena calls or Yang sticks me on some other case. Tell me the details.”

  After she did, he said, “You’re responsible for checking all the local hospitals. She could’ve been hit by a car and taken to an ER. I’ll look into the nastier possibilities. The most obvious one is a relationship gone bad. Who’s Voila been romantic with lately?”

  “I knew you’d ask, so I talked to my young cousin. Viola has experienced a long dry spell on the boyfriend front. Randy dumped her six months ago. ‘Too dull,’ he’d claimed. What a jerk. According to the cousin, though, Viola seemed relieved. Recently, Viola has been too busy with the new job and studying for her CPA exams.”

  Beau fought off a sigh. If this wasn’t a lovers’ quarrel, finding Viola was likely to be much tougher. “I might still look into that angle if we run out of other theories. I’ve got a bad feeling about this deal.”

  Chapter 3

  Casa Santiago, near Louviers, Colorado

  Carlotta strode down a wide hallway. Viola hustled to keep up. The white walls were covered with dozens of photographs of what looked like Central America. At least, they reminded her of a friend’s vacation pictures from Costa Rica. Lots of smiling Hispanic faces, so maybe members of the Santiago family. Do monsters like Carlotta really care about families?

  The women approached a twenty-something guy carrying an assault rifle. He bowed to Carlotta and didn’t even glance at the naked gringa behind her. The guy obviously wasn’t going to risk pissing off the jefa.

  Carlotta opened a door and motioned Viola in. A short, slim, immaculately coiffed woman about forty stood at a counter covered with beau
ty products. A few feet away, a fancy, empty, salon chair waited.

  When the woman noticed them, she beamed at Carlotta and hugged her. Carlotta’s face softened, and she kissed the other woman on the lips.

  In rapid-fire Spanish, Carlotta said, “Esmeralda, this insolent girl has already infuriated me multiple times even though I’ve only known her for fifteen minutes.”

  The stylist scowled at Viola.

  “Do what we talked about,” Carlotta said. “Plus, try to use your great talent to make her more attractive. She’s pitifully homely.”

  Viola’s face warmed from the insult, but she bit her tongue. One hard slap was enough for one day.

  Esmeralda gasped. “I’m shocked to hear how she treated you, jefa. As for her looks, I can’t perform miracles, but I will employ my feeble powers to the maximum.”

  Carlotta handed her the whip. “Feel free to beat her. It’s the one thing she can understand.”

  Esmeralda commiserated with Carlotta as she left then closed the door.

  Her soothing Spanish switched immediately to English. “My God, bitch, what did you do to piss her off?”

  Viola felt like punching the kiss-ass in the nose. “Me? She kidnapped me. And her thugs almost raped me on the way here. And she clobbered me, just because I didn’t fall at her feet right away. Please, help me get away.”

  Esmeralda shook her head. “You need a serious attitude adjustment, girl. Be quick about it, or you won’t survive for long. The only way I can help you is to warn you that you’re messing with seriously dangerous people. I’ve seen them kill men on a whim, but like they say, they’re always gracious to me. Smarten up and do whatever it takes to please Carlotta.” She flicked her tongue at Athena. “If all else fails, get on your knees and dive deep. Works great for me.”

  That wasn’t the answer Viola had expected. Lesbian sex? Was she kidding? Viola wasn’t that way, not really attracted to women. “Listen, please, I’m serious. You need to help me get out of here, or my blood will be on your hands too.”

  Esmeralda snickered. “Get a clue, kid. Carlotta is my best client. I work here twice a week keeping her, the ladies on her staff, and Pablo’s two dozen whores looking their best. If she tells me to whip you, I’ll happily leave you bloody and oozing on the floor.”

  Viola couldn’t hold back anymore and started to weep.

  “Cut that out,” Esmeralda said. “Look, even if I wanted to help you, it’s impossible to get you out of this fortress. They search my car every time I come and go. This place is guarded better than Fort Knox.”

  Bile rose in Viola’s throat. It was hard to believe places like this still existed in America. She started to argue, but Esmeralda put up a hand.

  “No more stupid talk. Give me those clothes and shoes. I’ll burn them.”

  Viola didn’t want to give up what few things she still had. When she didn’t move, Esmeralda lifted the whip.

  “Okay, I’ll do what you say, but you better hope I never get out of here on my own.”

  The woman shrieked in fury and brought the whip down on Viola’s back. The pain was searing as the braided leather strap cut deep into Viola’s skin.

  Esmeralda smirked. “There’s plenty more where that came from, you stuck up bitch.”

  Viola stumbled toward the chair as she tried to catch her breath and cope with the pain. She didn’t have any choice. Had to sit as she kept weeping.

  Minutes later, the stink of bleach filled the air. Viola looked around behind her. “Please, what are you going to do to me?”

  The woman sighed. “Shut the fuck up. I’m starting to hope the jefa kills you so I won’t have to listen to your whining anymore.”

  They’re all monsters, every goddamned one of them.

  Esmeralda applied a bleach solution to Viola’s hair and wrapped it in plastic. Then, she made Viola stand and began applying a lotion that also smelled like bleach to her deeply tanned skin.

  The mixture stung, burning particularly where Viola had been whipped, but she kept her mouth shut. Only the area around her eyes was left untreated.

  While Esmeralda switched to other potions, Viola asked questions about her predicament and the other people at Casa Santiago, but the woman wouldn’t say a single thing.

  Finally, she handed over a small mirror. “You’re welcome.”

  Viola wasn’t sure thanks were appropriate. Her hair was now snow white, including her eyebrows. Like magic, her skin had become deathly pale, whiter than an albino’s. Her blue eyes seemed to glow.

  Esmeralda asked, “See how much prettier you are?”

  Viola didn’t, but as she looked closer, she realized the woman had done something subtle to highlight her cheeks with a hint of pink.

  A shudder ran through her. What the hell was Carlotta planning? She hadn’t gone to all this trouble just for a good laugh. And given how despicable these people were, she had to have something sinister in mind.

  “You’ll never be the great beauty of the world,” Esmeralda said, “but you have to admit, it’s an improvement.”

  “Are you serious? I look like a ghoul. How long will it take for my skin to change back?”

  Esmeralda tossed her a thin cotton robe and a pair of slippers at Viola’s head. “Put those on so the guys don’t start pawing you when we leave.”

  Viola was happy to wear clothes for a change. The older woman took her and the whip to Carlotta’s office farther down the same hall.

  The boss lady opened Viola’s robe and circled her several times before hugging and kissing Esmeralda. “You have outdone yourself. She’s magnificent—sure to be the perfect warning.”

  What the hell does she mean?

  Esmeralda giggled like a little girl. “I’ve never tried anything this crazy before.”

  Carlotta gave her a bottle of Patrón Reposado tequila as a bonus.

  Once Esmeralda took off, the smile left Carlotta’s face. “Have you learned any manners, Señorita?”

  The ruthless criminal’s high and mighty attitude was infuriating, but Viola was learning to lie like a politician. “Si, Señora. I am very sorry I offended you earlier.”

  She didn’t mean a word of it, and Carlotta must’ve realized that, but she smiled like she’d won a great victory. “Perhaps we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. And Esmeralda has made you much prettier.” Carlotta stroked one of Viola’s cheeks. “You’re quite a temptation.”

  The sudden turnaround in the jefa’s attitude posed a new problem. Recently, she and her pretty roommate had been sleeping together, but Carlotta wasn’t the least bit appealing. “I don’t understand why you want me to look like a wraith?”

  Viola was hoping the woman might explain what great scheme she had in mind, but instead, the woman said, “I’m not going to force you. Close your robe. You need to prepare for two critical audits tomorrow. I am deeply suspicious that several of my trusted senior employees have been, as Americans say, cooking the books.”

  Viola barely caught herself before asking, then why the hell didn’t you just hire me to check them out? But she already knew the answer. Carlotta was a mob boss, just as evil as Al Capone or Michael Corleone. They left no witnesses alive.

  When she tuned back into Carlotta’s words, the woman was saying, “I hope we develop a close, comfortable relationship. Certainly, things will work out better for you if you keep me happy.”

  That raised an obvious question. “What happened to your previous accountant?” Viola hoped he wasn’t buried somewhere in the compound.

  The jefa frowned. “Selena made a very serious mistake—cheated my family out of more than a hundred thousand dollars. When I learned the truth, as I always do, I let her know how bitterly she had disappointed me.” From a folder on her desk, she pulled out a photograph. It showed a beaten and bloody heavyset woman taped to a wrought iron lawn chair. Her eyes were swollen shut, and her teeth had all been busted out. Blood seeped from her battered face and soaked h
er white blouse.

  Viola gagged, and vomit filled her mouth. Carlotta casually picked up a garbage can and gave it to her. Viola heaved from her toes upward. Wave after wave of barfing followed, even after Carlotta hid the photograph again. The jefa waited patiently like she had all the time in the world.

  When Viola finally got control of herself, Carlotta said, “The bathroom is two doors down on the right. Compose yourself and return. Take the trash bag with you.”

  Viola followed her directions, rinsed out her mouth, and washed her face. Every time she thought about how brutal these people were, another wave of vomit threatened to come up. Except nothing was left.

  Finally, she returned to the office to face whatever horrors would come next. Carlotta was talking on the phone. She motioned for Viola to sit in front of her desk and wait. The jefa was speaking Spanish, but she was also using some kind of code. The words themselves were understandable, but they made no sense strung together in sentences.

  After hanging up, Carlotta said, “I only showed you my distant cousin’s final moments to make an important point. That is how I deal with deceit.”

  For the first time in her life, Viola thought about suicide. She and her mother Gloria had put up with a lot after her addict dad had taken off, so she was used to adversity. Mom had been loving, but she couldn’t hold down a job for long. Their lives had been hard.

  Athena pushed aside her negative thoughts. This was just one more thing she’d have to suck it up and endure. “What do you want me to do?”

  -o-o-o-

  Central Library, Denver, Colorado

  Beau had talked to Viola Hawkins’s boss, her roommate, and her mother. They’d all agreed about Viola’s workday morning routine. Viola would ride a beat-up mountain bike on the city streets from her apartment to the downtown business district several miles away.

  He found several businesses along her route that operated external video cameras, and he collected copies of their recordings for the key time earlier that morning. Sure enough, Viola had continued along her way until she passed Denver’s main library. From that building, she’d proceeded east on Thirteenth Avenue toward Cherokee Street, but she didn’t get that far.