I appreciated the enthusiasm and bundled both girls over my shoulder as I started to march through the apartment, greeting the older children as I went. I was impressed that Jane, Ricky, and Eddie were all studying in the dining room. Books and papers were spread across the table, and all I got was a cursory nod as each of them looked up.
Bridget and Fiona were practicing some sort of stretching routine on the floor of the living room. A PBS yoga person from the nineties was giving slow, deliberate instruction on TV.
A few minutes after I got home, Juliana practically skipped through the front door. Her excitement was contagious. It immediately drew Jane away from her studies.
My oldest daughter squealed, “I got it. I got it.”
When I looked over, I saw that she was holding something in her hand. It looked like a credit card, but I couldn’t tell what kind.
I dropped the little girls onto the couch and followed Mary Catherine to Juliana. She held up the card in front of me and said, “I’m official. I got my SAG card. You only get that when you’re a professional actress.”
This was exciting news. When she held the card in front of me, I had to stare for a minute. All I could say was, “Who is Jules Baez?”
Juliana gave me a sly smile and said, “That’s my stage name. No two stage names can be the same.”
Mary Catherine said, “There was another Juliana Bennett?”
“No. I just felt this was more unique. The director helped me figure it out. He said it gave me more of an edge.”
I had to ask, “Why do you need an edge?”
“Jules Baez just sounds edgier. It’s subtle, Dad. You need to be in the industry to understand things like this.”
I was about to respond when I felt Mary Catherine’s hand on my shoulder. She had a way of gently calming me down and distracting me.
We let Juliana hurry into the dining room as all the kids gathered to see her fantastic new Screen Actors Guild identification card.
Mary Catherine eased me back into the living room and said, “She’s excited. Let her have her moment. I know you’re uncomfortable with her using a different name and wanting to be edgier, but you have to remember who she is. She’s a good girl who has never given you any problems. We need to trust her judgment. At least in something like this.”
I nodded. My fiancée had an outstanding connection to the kids. She read them as well as any parent I had ever seen. I’d be an idiot not to listen to her.
After dinner, the kids settled back into their studying routine. I was happy to see that Juliana had joined her younger brothers and sister at the dining-room table. Wearing her glasses, focused on algebra, she was my girl again, and I felt a wave of relief.
I joined Mary Catherine on the balcony, and we looked out toward the river. She leaned her head against my shoulder and said, “I hope you realize what a good dad you are.”
I thought about Brian. “I’ve made some mistakes.”
“Isn’t that what we humans are supposed to do?”
She never failed to make me feel better when I was a little troubled. I kissed her on the top of her head and said, “Have you given any thought to a date for our wedding?”
She turned and gave me a smile. Then there was a squeal inside the apartment. Nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual sounds of kids.
Mary Catherine turned from the railing and said, “What on earth?” Then she hurried inside without answering my question. I took a few moments to be alone on the balcony.
Chapter 27
Alex Martinez drove her Chevy Silverado pickup truck from the parking garage near the El Dorado airport, in the northern section of Bogotá, all the way to her ranch outside the smaller town of Melgar, about two and a half hours to the southwest.
She could smell some of the animals at the Zoológico Cafam Melgar as she passed by. The simple municipal zoo carried a much different odor from her ranch. She attributed some of the smell to the presence of primates. Whereas she appreciated the smell of a horse, a primate was just a little too close to human.
Alex could barely contain the excitement she felt about returning home. All the major cities—New York, Paris, Mexico City—were just too crowded. The more time she spent in these places, the less human she felt.
The front gate to the ranch was open. They were expecting her.
She waved from the truck without slowing down as the families in the first two houses stepped outside to wave to her. She found a way to employ both husbands and both wives as well as provide an education for all six of the children. Sometimes it wasn’t easy.
A mile later, she slowed down in front of the main house. She could see the broad shape of her housekeeper, Maria, and her rail-thin husband, who handled all the maintenance around the house. Right next to them were the two people she really wanted to see.
She slipped out of the pickup truck, and her feet had not even touched the ground when tiny arms wrapped around her waist to give her a hug. She dropped to her knees to embrace both her daughters at once.
Clemency was six and liked to conduct herself with some dignity. Her neatly brushed hair hung straight back, as usual. Her little sister, Gabriela, who was just turning four, had her usual disheveled look, which warmed the heart of every adult she met.
Alex just took a moment and got lost in the emotion of her two girls hugging her. Every time she left, she felt she had been gone too long.
She walked toward the house with a girl hanging on to each hand. She wanted to hear everything that had happened and all that they had learned.
Maria embraced Alex and kissed her on the cheek as if she were her own daughter. Maria’s husband gave a stately bow. The older man had spent many years in the military before being forced out under suspicion of being associated with a drug cartel. She’d asked him about it once. He’d laughed and said, “If I worked with a drug cartel, would I be fixing your toilets now?”
The other six men and women, who worked in the stables near the house, kept their distance but gave Alex a polite wave. She was home, and she felt it. She didn’t think anything could dampen her mood.
As soon as Alex was inside and the girls were dutifully running one of her bags into her bedroom, she felt her phone vibrate. When she looked down at the text message, she immediately recognized the number. It was her contact with the Mexican drug cartel.
The text message was simple and to the point: Michael Bennett is alive.
Chapter 28
Alex Martinez understood how much she missed her daughters when she was away. Today she was getting an idea of how much Gabriela and Clemency had missed her.
They were ready to ride, each in her own style.
Clemency wore everything perfectly. English riding boots halfway up her calves, her riding pants tucked neatly into the boots. And Gabriela looked just like an outlaw from a 1950s movie. Right down to the red bandanna tied around her neck. Her wild dark hair poked out from underneath the tiny Stetson.
Alex helped the girls saddle their own horses. She wanted them to be self-sufficient as well as understand how to keep the horses calm and healthy. She showed Gabriela the proper way to ease the bit into the horse’s mouth. The little girl focused on the lesson completely.
Clemency lately had favored a colt named Samuel. Alex didn’t think her daughter got the joke that someone had named the horse after the famous gun manufacturer Samuel Colt.
Gabriela had recently been riding a pony named Biscuit. Alex could see why. The little horse had a wild mane and was full of energy. They were made for each other.
When Alex was growing up, her British riding instructor had always referred to horses like Biscuit as a Welsh cob. That was not a term you heard frequently in Colombia. Out of respect for the man who was very important during her formative years, Alex still called Biscuit a Welsh cob.
As much as she relaxed at times like this, she always stayed aware of her surroundings, conscious of how many enemies an assassin makes during his or her career. Her
9mm Beretta hung in a bag from her saddle, always within easy reach. One of the habits she had picked up since she stumbled into her profession as a young college grad.
The girls’ father, Rafael, never agreed with her choice of jobs. That might have helped push him out the door to shack up with a cruise-ship dancer. The girls got postcards from all over the world now but rarely saw their shiftless father, who lived off a trust fund.
Gabriela giggled, which made Alex twist in the saddle to see what her daughter found so amusing.
Biscuit was sniffing the hindquarters of Clemency’s colt, Samuel.
Alex looked ahead again to hide her smile.
Clemency trotted up, then had to fight to control Samuel.
Alex said, “You’re doing great, Clemmy, but think of you and Samuel as one. You’re part of him, and he’s part of you. Let him feel your confidence.”
Clemency nodded and immediately tried a quick turn and sprint, her long, dark ponytail flowing behind her.
Now Gabriela caught up to her mother.
“How am I doing, Mama?”
“Wonderful, baby. You and Biscuit are perfect together.”
Alex was distracted by another rider coming from the direction of the ranch. She tensed and unbuckled the pouch holding her pistol.
Then she recognized the rider and called out, “Manny.”
Her slim thirty-three-year-old cousin smiled as he approached.
Alex leaned over and kissed him.
He said, “You look beautiful, as always.”
The girls both raced up to greet her cousin, whom they called Uncle Manny.
Manny said, “I propose a race. Your mama and me, to the far hill and back. You two will be the referees in case she tries anything funny.”
Alex didn’t wait for a signal. She urged Mitzi into a full gallop, and Manny fell in behind her immediately.
Manny rode a gelding from her stable named Reynaldo. The horse was big, more than fifteen hands high, but he had a smooth gait.
Alex looked ahead slightly, avoiding gopher holes and other dangers to a galloping horse. She urged Mitzi on with a nudge from her feet. She’d never used a whip or spurs in her whole life.
Manny matched her step for step, kicking Reynaldo harder, but nothing more.
Reynaldo had the stride, but Alex had the experience.
Alex circled the oak tree at the crest of the hill. She looked up to see the girls cheering about four hundred meters ahead. Sweat was dripping into her eyes, and she felt her legs tiring under the stress of riding and standing up slightly in the stirrups.
Alex hated to lose. Especially to her cousin Manny.
Alex smiled at the girls’ squeals as she crossed the finish line ahead of Manny.
They both eased the horses to a trot, then returned to the giddy girls.
Manny said, “Once again, your beautiful mother has demonstrated to you that women can compete with men anywhere.”
Alex beamed at the victory and the girls’ excitement.
After a few minutes, they sent the girls ahead so they could talk about their shared profession.
Alex said, “Any interesting jobs coming up?”
Manny shook his head. “I’m taking a break. I was almost caught by the Brazilian national police after I completed a contract in Rio. Some oil company executive hired me to deal with one of his rivals. The job itself wasn’t that hard, but any time you take a contract not related to the drug business, the police tend to take notice. I barely made it back here without having to explain why I put two bullets in the back of the man’s head.”
Manny looked at her. No humor in his tone. “I’ve heard about your New York contracts. People in the United States don’t like it when cops are killed. It’s not like Mexico, where a payoff will keep people quiet. In the States they’ll do everything they can to find you. You’ve got the girls. This ranch. All those people you take care of. I’ve only got me.”
“And your mother.”
“Okay, but no children.”
Alex sighed. “What can you do? It’s the business. I’d prefer to stay here with the girls.”
“I would prefer that as well. Let me finish the contract.”
She laughed. “Always trying to protect me. I appreciate it, Manny, but I can complete any contract you can. Besides, there are still a couple of Canadians in New York I need to deal with as well.”
“When do you leave?”
Alex said, “Tomorrow I’m meeting with my liaison to the cartel. I’ll see what he has to say before I make any decisions.”
Manny laughed and said, “That is so you. No decision, no matter how small, is ever taken lightly. I wish I had your discipline.”
Alex sighed. “No, you don’t.”
Chapter 29
I got home in the evening just before dinner. I was beat. I guess I wasn’t as fully recovered as I thought. Just like everyone from Mary Catherine to the doctors had told me. And oddly, I still had a hard time admitting I was stubborn.
The younger kids each darted into the hallway to greet me, as they always did. I doled out hugs and kisses that immediately wiped away my exhaustion. The older kids gave me courtesy nods, and Ricky even said, “Hey, Dad.”
Dinner smelled like a traditional Irish roast with maybe a splash of spices from Ricky.
As I stepped into the dining room, ready to greet Mary Catherine, I was surprised to see the athletic form of Father Alonzo helping to move some glasses into the living room.
“Hello, Michael. I hope you don’t mind that your grandfather brought me along for dinner.”
“No, of course not. In a family this size one more person is barely noticed.”
Just then, Chrissy ran up with our cat in her arms.
“Something’s wrong with Socky.”
I took a closer look. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
Shawna and Trent joined the medical consultation.
Chrissy was hesitant.
I asked, “What is it?”
“It’s Socky’s…um…uh…butt.”
I checked, and sure enough, there was a piece of string poking out slightly. I leaped into action. I looked at Trent and said in a mock official tone, “Find me an open operating table with newspaper covering it.”
My son sprang to attention and called, “Yes, sir.” He gave me a quick smile and wink.
Trent led me into the living room, where he had cleared the coffee table and spread newspaper over it. He helped me hold Socky, who seemed to like the attention, as I conducted a thorough examination.
Eddie joined us out of curiosity as the girls knelt down to comfort the cat.
I used a napkin to grasp the string and pull. The foot-long string slid out easily, although afterward Socky squirmed free and fled.
I held up the string and said to the girls, “Voilà. The operation was successful.”
Mary Catherine stepped into the living room and said, “Quit acting like a child in front of our guest.” Then she saw the string I was holding and said, “I wondered where the pork-loin string went last night.”
I smiled and said, “I hope you’re not going to use it again.” I was rewarded with a hail of laughter from the girls.
Father Alonzo laughed, too, and said, “You’re a lucky man to spread such joy.”
I smiled. He was right.
As dinner simmered and the children cleared their homework off the dining-room table, I joined Seamus and Alonzo on the balcony.
Both priests sipped on glasses of red wine, and Seamus passed one to me. I accepted and brought it to my nose, hoping it wasn’t my Talisman Weir Vineyard Pinot Noir. Sixty bucks was a lot for a cop to shell out for wine. I’d been saving it for a special occasion.
Alonzo was perceptive. He said, “I hope you like the wine. I took it from the Communion box at Holy Name.”
I just stared at him for a moment, speechless.
Alonzo said, “I’m sorry—just a poor joke. We picked it up at the liquor store down the street.
”
I wasn’t used to a priest with a normal sense of humor.
We chatted for a few more minutes. Alonzo complimented me on how well behaved the children were. It’s hard to not like someone who compliments your children.
I tried to get a little more of his background. He was raised in Bogotá, educated in Mexico City.
Alonzo said, “I had quite a full life before God set me on the right path. I’m trying to use my experience in a different way, dealing with everyday people.”
“What motivated you to join the Church?”
Now Seamus interrupted. “Michael, my boy, those aren’t the kind of questions we ask people who’ve come into the Church. No one cares that I used to own a bar.”
I said, “No one would know if you didn’t tell people every ten minutes.”
Before he could answer with a sarcastic comment, Juliana stepped into the room and said, “Mary Catherine says dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”
Father Alonzo greeted Juliana and tried to make conversation, asking her, “Have you given any thought about where you want to go to college?”
She avoided looking at me when she answered. “I have a lot of options on the table right now. I’ll start to narrow them down near Christmas.” She backed out of the room before I could comment.
Alonzo tried again, asking me, “So have you and Mary Catherine picked a date?”
I looked down at the tile and just shook my head. “You ever been married, Alonzo? I mean, before your marriage to the Church?”
He said, “I was engaged once.”
“What happened?”
“The usual. Who knows? There are thousands of possible answers. The easiest explanation is that she fell in love with another man. A man who could provide her with things I couldn’t. But now I have the Church.”
Seamus clapped him on the shoulder and said, “And you’ve got me.”
Ambush Page 6