Maggie's Mark (Ceiba Cartel Book 1)

by Michelle Cornish

  “Do you know what she is?” Carlos asked.

  “I don’t care,” said Ricardo. “Look at yourself.” He stepped up to Carlos so that his face was inches from his brother’s. “You disgust me. Even with all your whoring around, I never thought you would go this far.”

  Carlos gestured at Maggie as two men helped her to the door. “She’s a traitor.”

  Ricardo walked backwards to the door, his gun still trained on Carlos. “No, Carlos, you’re the traitor.”

  Williams stayed next to Ricardo, keeping his gun on the men beside Carlos.

  “You can keep this business,” said Ricardo. “It’s what you wanted all along anyway, to run it your way. But you will not follow us, and your men will not follow us.”

  Carlos held his hands up in surrender. “Whatever you want, brother?”

  “If I even get a whiff of your disgusting scent, I’ll turn you into the DEA and tell the CIA everything I know about you and your FARC buddies.”

  Carlos’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

  “You didn’t think I knew about that, did you?”

  Carlos chuckled snidely. “Well played, brother. Well played.”

  At the entrance to the warehouse, rain poured down in sheets outside behind them. “Oh, and one more thing.” Ricardo turned and pointed his gun at Carlos. “You will never hurt another woman again.” He aimed at Carlos’s crotch and pulled the trigger. Carlos doubled over. The men who’d cheered him on earlier just stood there with their mouths gaping, as if they couldn’t believe Ricardo had shot his own brother.

  Ricardo and Williams ran for the Land Rover, and jumped in—Williams in the driver’s seat, and Ricardo in the back with Maggie.

  Maggie looked up at Ricardo from a semi-fetal position in the back seat. Both her eyes were swollen. She hurt everywhere, and her vision was blurry. She reached her hand up to Ricardo. “I’m so sorry, Ricardo. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth.”

  “Shh,” he said, resting her head on his leg. He took off his rain jacket and placed it over her then stroked her temple. The rain had soaked them all in the brief amount of time they’d been outside.

  “Could you turn up the heat?” he asked Williams. “She’s freezing.”

  “Should we stop at your place and grab some supplies?”

  Ricardo twisted around in his seat, presumably looking to see if anyone had followed them. “I think we better. If they held her there all day, she hasn’t had any food or water.”

  Maggie wanted to say more, but her chattering teeth were zapping her energy. She wanted to tell Ricardo that she had been there all day, but even more, she wanted to tell him why she’d done what she had. She wasn’t using him.

  “Williams?” Her voice came out as a whisper. “They killed Garcia.” She cried for her friend again—the awful image of his head stuck in hers—and her whole body convulsed while Ricardo lightly rubbed her shoulder.

  She must have cried herself to sleep, because the next thing she knew, she awoke inside the Land Rover while it idled in front of the Ceiba mansion.

  “Hey,” came Williams’s voice from the driver’s seat. “Ricardo’s gone to get supplies.”

  Maggie sat up, her head pounding. Realizing it was the only thing covering her, she clutched Ricardo’s jacket to her chest. She touched her nose. It was swollen and blood had dried around her nostrils.

  “You look like shit.” Williams chuckled.

  “Very funny,” she said. “You steal this thing?” she asked, referring to the Land Rover.

  He ignored her question then turned his body, so he was facing her as much as possible. “Morales did this to you didn’t he?”

  She pursed her lips and nodded.

  “I’m sorry. I never should have let him come here to pick you up. I knew he was pissed, but I had no idea he was a traitor.” He rubbed his palm over his face. “I let Garcia go with him to meet Val. They took the SUV. I had to beg Harper and Owens to let me take their Land Rover.”

  She nodded.

  “Lucky thing too. This thing handled way better in the muddy jungle roads then the SUV would have.”

  He looked away and gulped some air. “This is all my fault. I should have looked out for you and Garcia better.” His eyes glazed over.

  “You had no way of knowing. We all trusted him.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.” She glanced toward the cottage. It was dark, but it was also late. “Where’s Val now?”

  Williams turned his attention to the cottage. “Ricardo gave her enough cash to last her for a few years and told her to get out of here. If she’s smart, she’s on a bus heading as far away from here as possible.”

  The interior light opened as Ricardo got back into the Land Rover, sitting in the back next to Maggie again. He handed her a bottle of water. “You need to drink something.”

  As much as her body ached, there was no forcing her to drink anything. Her throat was scorching, and the cool water went down easy.

  “Where to, boss?” asked Williams.

  Ricardo placed a blanket over Maggie, replacing his raincoat, then he opened the first aid kit he’d grabbed from the mansion and pulled out an antiseptic wipe. “It doesn’t matter. Take the back roads north for now.”

  “You got it, but I’ll need to circle back into town to the Embassy at some point,” said Williams. “I need to check in with McKay. At least tell him about Morales. I’m pretty sure he’s the rogue who’s been importing drugs through Miami.”

  “You’re not going to the Embassy tonight, are you? They won’t be open until the morning,” said Maggie. “You’ll be safer with us, for now.”

  Williams shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll hide out until they’re open.”

  “No way. At least stay with us until daylight.” Maggie winced as Ricardo dabbed at the cuts on her face. One of Carlos’s men must have been wearing a ring.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. I haven’t seen Morales since he and Garcia left to meet Val. He might be expecting me to go there.” The three of them were silent for a few minutes as if honoring Garcia’s memory. How would she ever get that horrible image of his head out of her mind?

  Chapter 29

  By the time they had arrived in Medellín, Ricardo was driving, and Williams sat in the front passenger seat. Maggie had stretched out in the back of the Land Rover and snuggled in with the blankets Ricardo had taken from the mansion. It didn’t take long for exhaustion to overtake her. When the Land Rover came to a standstill, Maggie jolted awake. Her heart raced and she struggled to catch her breath.

  “It’s okay, Barnes. We’re at the bus station in Medellín.”

  Medellín . . . where Magda was from. The two of them had more in common than she ever could have imagined. She looked out the windows and squinted her eyes. The sun shone brightly and reflected off a nearby vehicle.

  Williams opened the glove box, pulled out a pair of sunglasses and handed them to Maggie. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb if we don’t try to cover some of that.”

  Last night, as they drove, she’d put on a pair of Ricardo’s sweatpants and a t-shirt he’d grabbed for her from the mansion, but anyone who looked at her face would know she’d been beaten.

  She took the sunglasses from Williams and put them on then checked the rearview mirror. It was better but not perfect. She’d have to keep her head down inside the bus terminal.

  Williams turned to Maggie and Ricardo. “Well, this is it. Time to go our separate ways.”

  “Wait.” Maggie suddenly had a thought, one that might help her put all of this behind her. “Could you take a letter to the Embassy for me?”

  “You got any paper, darlin’?” Williams raised his eyebrows.

  “Come on. You just had the glove box open. If Harper and Owens are any kind of agents at all, they’ve got paper and a pen stashed in there.”

  “Fair point.” He opened the glove box again and moved a few things around. “Good cal
l, Barnes.” He handed her a notepad and pen.

  “Are you sure you want to do this Maggie?” asked Ricardo. “Maybe you should give it some time.”

  She shook her head. “I want to do it now. It will help me leave this life behind.”

  Opening the notebook to a fresh page, she already knew what she needed to say.

  Dear Director Webster:

  By the time you get this letter, I will probably (hopefully) have vanished. I am writing to formally resign from the CIA. That is, if I haven’t already been fired.

  She went on to explain the evidence she found against Carlos Ceiba, proving he had paid certain members of the FARC to kill at least one leader of the Patriotic Union. Of course, this all came from Ricardo, but she wrote it as if she had uncovered it, not knowing if the CIA could protect him from his brother. She was already a target.

  While I take full responsibility for my actions, I feel it pertinent that you also know that Emilio Morales, a Colombian CIA agent, is a traitor who has been working in partnership with Carlos Ceiba. I’m quite certain he is responsible for Officer Garcia’s death.

  The letter included further details of Morales’s part in her kidnapping and her suspicions around Garcia’s death based on what Williams had told her.

  Ricardo Ceiba saved my life in exchange for complete severance from the Ceiba cartel. He has given everything to his brother Carlos, which appears to be what Carlos wanted from the start. Hank Williams, the CIA Officer working with me and Juan Garcia deserves recognition for the part he played in saving my life, as does Garcia for sacrificing his life for mine.

  A tear dropped onto the paper, and her nose started to run at the gruesome memory of seeing Garcia’s head roll around in front of her face when she was trapped in the warehouse. She looked around for something to dab at the wet spot on her letter and found a pack of Kleenex in the first aid kit.

  When she finished the letter, she handed it to Williams so he could deliver it for her when he got back to Bogota. “You should read it,” she said. “Since you’re mentioned.”

  “I can only imagine what you said about me, Barnes.” The paper crinkled as he opened the letter.

  He scanned it then nodded as he finished reading. “I’m sorry I always gave you such a hard time, Barnes. If I could take away what happened to you, I would.”

  She shook it off. “I’m just glad you two showed up when you did. I’d be buried in a shallow grave in the jungle if you hadn’t.” Her body stiffened at the thought. “Come on, we better go.”

  Williams tucked the letter in his shirt pocket. With their bags in hand, they left the Land Rover. Ricardo left the keys in the ignition, knowing none of them would be back for it. Some poor sap would steal it and get pulled over by the authorities eventually.

  Chapter 30

  The bus terminal reminded Maggie of a mini airport. It was surprisingly bright inside. The giant skylights probably didn’t hurt. Williams stayed with Maggie while Ricardo bought tickets for the two of them, and when Ricardo returned, Williams went and purchased a ticket back to Bogota.

  Maggie kept her head down, but she was sure people still noticed her bruised face. She hoped their bus left soon.

  “I need to eat,” said Williams.

  Ricardo turned to Maggie. “Do you think you can eat?”

  She wasn’t sure, but not knowing where they were going or when they would be stopping next, she decided she’d better try. “Sure. Do we have time?”

  “We have all the time in the world,” he said, interlacing his fingers with hers.

  Ricardo insisted on getting their breakfasts while Williams and Maggie found a seat in the food court. She pulled an orange plastic chair out from a table and sat across from Williams. It felt as though the back would give out as leaned against it.

  There was a surprising amount of people rushing around the terminal, and Maggie was thankful. It’d be easier not to be noticed that way.

  Before long, Ricardo arrived with a tray of three American style breakfasts. Her stomach went queasy at the sight of eggs, but she knew she had to try and eat something. Maybe the toast and bacon would be easier to get down.

  As she buttered her toast with a plastic knife, movement out of the corner of her eye, caught her attention. When she glanced up, a woman waved at her from outside the food court. Val stood with Maria wrapped around her and Consuella and Sara by her side.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said. Ricardo and Williams had been too busy wolfing down their food to notice Val and her friends.

  A fire grew in her stomach as she walked toward the women, but it quickly died down. She knew Consuella had betrayed Val’s trust and told Ricardo she was CIA, but if Val didn’t care, neither did she. None of it really mattered now.

  She hugged Val. “I’m so glad you’re all okay.”

  Val touched Maggie’s cheek with her hand. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’ll be fine.” Consuella barely made eye contact with her. “But I won’t keep you. It’s probably not safe for you to be seen with me.”

  She nodded then said, “We need to catch our bus anyway.”

  “We’re going to the west coast,” said Sara, and she instantly covered her mouth. Maggie wished she hadn’t heard that. It was better if she didn’t know where they were going, but there were plenty of places they could end up along the coast.

  “Stay safe,” Maggie said, and she gently patted Maria’s head. Maria reached for her as she left, and Maggie swallowed hard.

  “You okay?” asked Ricardo when she arrived back at their table.

  She stared at her plate and contemplated what to tell him. “I saw Val and the other ladies.”

  Ricardo’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. “Really? Where?” He looked around as if he wanted to say, “Hi.”

  “They had to catch their bus.”

  “Looks like they took your advice,” said Williams. “Let’s hope it keeps them safe.”

  A voice came over the loudspeaker announcing the bus to Bogota.

  Williams stood and nodded to Maggie and Ricardo. “You two take care.” He carried his garbage to the nearest trash bin and dumped it in then carried on without looking back.

  Alone at last, Maggie leaned against Ricardo. After all that had happened, she had no idea what to say to him. She finished the toast on her plate but left most of the eggs and bacon.

  Another announcement blasted through the speakers calling all passengers bound for Cartagena.

  “That’s us,” said Ricardo, grabbing their bags as he stood. He helped her up and held her hand until they were seated on the bus. She placed her hand on his thigh and leaned her head against his shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  The air brakes hissed as the bus pulled out of the terminal.

  He lifted her hand to his lips. “You don’t have anything to thank me for. I know it’s been a crazy few weeks, and I must be crazy myself to say this, but . . . I love you.”

  Her heart beat faster and a warm tingly sensation spread throughout her body.

  “I guess we’re both crazy,” she said, looking up at him. “I love you too.” She closed her eyes and promptly fell asleep.

  Epilogue

  One week later, Cartagena, Colombia

  Maggie carried her sandals as she and Ricardo walked hand in hand along the beach where the ocean met the sand. She rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Everything okay?” he asked. Ever since he’d rescued her, he’d constantly been asking if she was okay.

  “Perfect,” she said, her cheekbone still aching from when she’d been beaten by Carlos and his men.

  “Oh my god!” A female voice echoed behind her. “Maggie, is that you?”

  She whipped her head around to see a tanned blonde running down the beach toward her.

  “Kelly?” Her face cracked into a smile. She dropped Ricardo’s hand and headed toward Kelly. The two embraced, and although they’d never been t
hat close at Georgetown, when Maggie squeezed Kelly, it felt as though they’d been best friends. She was her only connection to a country she could never return to.

  Maggie broke the hug then stepped back, searching Kelly’s face, which had a lot more freckles than it did back in Washington. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live here,” Kelly replied.

  “Wow, that’s amazing.” She never in a million years would have guessed she’d run into someone from her past in Cartagena. It was one of the reasons Ricardo chose Cartagena as their new home. But would Kelly be in touch with people back home? Could word get to the CIA that she was here? She sucked in a panicked breath.

  “Are you okay?” asked Kelly, eyeing Ricardo.

  Maggie gave her head a quick shake, realizing the bruising and scrapes on her face hadn’t magically faded away. Unlike her memories of what Carlos had done to her, they would be gone soon. “Oh, I’m sorry. This is Ricardo.” The couple met each other’s gaze. “He saved my life,” she said, putting an arm around his waist.

  Ricardo held out his hand to Kelly. “Nice to meet you . . .” he paused, and Kelly gave him her name.

  Maggie apologized again. “I’m still not quite myself after what happened.” What should she tell Kelly? It’s not like she could say she was held captive by the cartel.

  “Were you mugged?” Kelly asked. “I’ve heard rumors.” She looked over her shoulder at the group she’d been with when she first spotted Maggie. “Sam won’t let me go anywhere by myself.” Her face flushed, and she rolled her eyes.

  Maggie nodded, thankful to have a story to tell Kelly. “Yes,” she said, squeezing Ricardo’s hand. “Not here though. I went to Bogota to see the big city.” She looked down at her bare feet on the sand. “I don’t know what would have happened if Ricardo hadn’t come along.”

  Kelly’s eyes widened.

  “Listen to Sam,” Maggie added. “He knows what he’s talking about.” She tried to spin the story a little more to her advantage. “If you’re talking to anyone back home, could you not mention you saw me? I came to Colombia to see the world and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. The whole thing’s a bit embarrassing.”