“What about all his crimes? Getting dope to school kids? Killing people who got in his way? Becoming rich through illicit activities?” Steve asked in a tone that revealed how his anger at the Fuentes was rising.
“Please, Steve. I want to tell you what happened. I think the Fuentes committed many criminal acts. Right now I need you to listen,” Ivy said firmly and stopped to wait for a signal from Steve that he would let her finish talking.
When he nodded at her, she continued. “They are asking for their liberty to live outside the United States. In exchange, they will give us all their contacts in the underworld as well as a commitment not to retaliate against us. Their list will contain at least 50 names along with wrongdoings, addresses of operations and other known facts.”
Ivy paused and took another sip of water, wanting to allow Steve to think about the proposal from the Fuentes. “Cruze’s contributions will be a little dated. Julio’s are current. Remember, he deals in information. He can even identify three hackers of government sites who accessed the databases in the DEA, the CIA and the FBI, among others, including breaking into Sentinel to find out about us. He and Cruze want untraceable identities, and they will disappear.”
Steve shook his head in an emphatic negative and then said. “Making agreements with criminals is not the way I do things. It goes against my sense of justice.”
Ivy stayed quiet, letting him ponder the offer further. Even though Steve had dedicated his life to apprehending felons, given time to assess the deal the cousins presented, she expected rationality and fairness to prevail.
“Considering their offer,” he began after several minutes, “a list of 50 scumbags with substantial evidence of felonious actions is too good to pass up. If the Fuentes give their proof to us, they are as good as dead since a vendetta of bloodlust will be launched against them in retribution.”
Their meals arrived. Steve ignored his. Ivy picked up her burger, took a big bite, set it down and reached for some malt vinegar for her fries.
“How do we reach them?” he asked.
She dug in her pocket and handed over an index card with a phone number.
“We could take their info and hunt them down,” Steve said.
Ivy studied his face. “Not you, Agent Nielsen. You epitomize the FBI motto -- ‘Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity’. They want your personal assurance, as well as a formal contract with the Department of Justice.”
“Let me think about this. In any event, this scheme has to go to the Chiefs – former and present,” he said and pushed his plate away almost untouched. “They got to you so easily.”
“I wonder how Julio understood when and where to have those men grab me,” Ivy said as she tucked into her fries.
“House or car or both must be bugged despite our frequent sweeps. With the right equipment, our conversation in Nordstrom’s could have been picked up. So wrong of me to have left you alone.”
“Or maybe Julio made a shopping-woman-shoes deduction,” Ivy said, as she reached over and laced her long fingers through his. “Steve, I had confidence that you would save me and that knowledge helped me push back my fears. In a way I’m not unhappy this happened. Now we can find a speedier resolution. If we proceed, I want to be the spokesperson with the two Fuentes. They trusted me to deliver the message. I want to negotiate with them.”
“No way. I will do it myself,” he said.
After listening to the interchange, Moll asked for more situational context. He was acquainted with Cruze’s background from when he had worked on the Fuentes case, but the names of Julio and Annetta were new to him. Steve and Ivy told Brian and Moll their accumulated research on Annetta and about the years she spent as Julio, trading information as a valuable commodity.
“I’ll take this on,” Moll said. “A friend in high school repeatedly got shagged by her father. She told me what deep shit that did to her head. Her life became an ugly smear with her smacked around with no way to escape. She offed herself. I always felt I failed her.”
Sadness and sincerity marked Moll’s usually blasé face. He and Brian had left the FBI over a year ago, yet Moll seemed to need to take on this dangerous task.
“You and Mathew, if he is willing. Brian, Terry, Steve and I will keep your active projects underway,” Ivy said to Moll, before turning to her husband and gripping his hand even tighter. “I want you to protect me. Even though I’m putting up a brave front, this morning scared me, really scared me.”
Steve’s glare took a second to lift, and he slid an arm around her. Even though he blamed himself for what happened, Ivy placed her trust in him.
“Always,” he said. “Let me call the Chief. Brian and Moll, do you have time to ride back with us and sweep the SUV, the house, the barn and the tree house for bugs?”
“Sure, whatever you need,” Brian said.
As they left the restaurant and stepped into the car, Steve gave the Chief some background on what had transpired.
"I'd like a day to draft up a proposal,” Steve said into the phone. “Here’s a few ideas. First, the Fuentes will be arrested and prosecuted if they return to the U.S. Second, the FBI will receive a sampling of names to assess their legitimacy and value. Third, the safety of all federal agents, existing and past, and their families, neighbors and property must be guaranteed. Fourth, they must pay the U.S. Treasury at least $200 million in illegal gains. Fifth, if they are apprehended for engaging in felonies in any global jurisdiction, the government will retain the right to also prosecute them for their suspected wrongdoings here.”
Steve paused to let Mule absorb the five conditions he rattled off, then he continued. “We will add other terms. That’s the flavor of what we’ll propose. Do you think Chief Comey will go for such a suggestion if the sample group of so-called persons of interest pans out?"
Ivy stopped to enjoy the comfort of Steve’s presence. While an arrangement such as this would not be enough in Steve's mind, a negotiated agreement would reduce the danger to them and should result in real justice. Other offenders could be stopped, and the community would receive compensation.
Two abductions of a loved one in a single year – first sweet little Susannah and now herself. Were villains more aggressive about involving family members to achieve their ends?
Chapter 24
Cruze and Julio switched cars in a nearby transit parking lot, taking one the two men heisted and leaving the limo for the same hired guns to return. The cousins headed north to Seattle donning disguises as they went.
"We’ll depart on different flights using our foreign passports and regroup in Paris," Julio said to reconfirm their plans.
"How long do we give them?" Cruze asked
"Three days."
As Cruze negotiated out of the city, Julio asked, “Do you think they will consider our proposal?”
“I still wonder if we did the right thing. Aren’t we less safe by turning in the names of our underworld connections?”
“At least if they come after us, we will be dead and not imprisoned. Yes, I think we picked the lesser of the evils. In the minds of society, we were lawbreakers. This will be our chance to make restitution for our crimes.”
He nodded. Although this course of action made him extremely uncomfortable, they had discussed the tactic before. He still supported it.
“She portrayed an understanding nature – the big agent’s wife,” Julio said. “She kept her head even under a terrifying experience. When she listened to my retelling of our childhoods, her face clouded with concern. Funny, talking with her turned out to be not as hateful as I expected. No doubt she is back in his arms by now, and he will make the decisions.
“You did well. Now to sneak back to Europe. This may be our last time in the United States."
“Soon we will better understand our fates.”
Despite the threats inherent in their actions and tactics, Cruze’s heart was gladdened to be with Julio. While Julio could never be Cristo or Eduardo, Cruze could let go with him and h
e became his truer self. His gentle, artistic side could now be allowed to replace the adopted tough guy image. Even though he would always miss his brothers, especially his twin, he had someone who understood his past as well as his underlying disposition. His siblings were a missing part of him, yet now he might be granted the freedom to become the man he suppressed. Even if he had cosmetic surgery and assumed another new identity, he would be free to reveal more of himself.
Down in San Francisco Mathew and an attorney for the FBI sat across the table from the mob boss and his attorneys in the U.S. Field Marshal facility. Despite being incarcerated and caught red-handed with the kidnapping money, the mob boss remained disdainful of the FBI as if he did not expect the charges against him to stick.
That morning on the fourth day of negotiations, they had been in direct discussions for two hours and had just taken a short break. For the third time, the FBI attorney repeated the list of FBI demands. At the rate they were going, Mathew realized that it was unlikely he would be returning to Oregon that day. The mob boss was postulating that he had no knowledge of the kidnapping but was told that the money came from a repaid debt.
Mathew needed to come up with something to break the deadlock in the negotiations. He leaned over to whisper to the attorney.
“Tell him we have DNA samples that put him in the same basement room where Susannah was held captive,” Mathew said keeping his voice soft and masking his lip movement with his hand.
“Do we?” the attorney asked in surprise.
“Just do it,” Mathew said. He was bluffing, but it was possible that the mob boss had been in the room at some point and had left some hair there.
The attorney cleared his throat. “We know you were in the room where the little girl, Susannah Straun, was held captive.”
The mob boss shook his head in the negative, but his attorneys looked worried. One of them asked, “What proof do you have?”
“DNA samples of hair left in the room matched the DNA already on file for your client.”
The mob boss and his attorneys called for a break to confer. Mathew and the FBI attorney left the room. After an hour they were called back in.
“With no admission of guilt, but to take advantage of the relief you are offering my client for his son and his wife, we agree to the terms to the extent that our client can control events. If any of his associates act of their own accord, he will not be held accountable.”
Mathew shook his head and stood up to leave the room. The FBI attorney rose also. “No deal then. We are well aware of the extent of your client’s influence. It is within his power to comply with our terms. We will file a motion to have him moved to solitary confinement. We will have his wife arrested for tax evasion and both his sons will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”
The mob boss closed his eyes as if to conceal the pain and anger that crossed his face. Mathew began putting papers in his briefcase and picked up his cane.
“Hold it,” the mob boss said roughly as he turned to confer with his attorneys.
His lead attorney said, “We’ll comply. You’ve got your deal.”
Mathew left the FBI attorney to draw up the required paperwork to go to the judge. He shook his hand, then left the room feeling a great weight go off of his shoulders. One negotiation down and one to go. While the hours passed with frustrating slowness and were littered with gaps in time when nothing happened, the issue should be behind them now.
One negotiation down and one to go. At least Moll would work with him on the next one as they struggled to find a resolution with the two Fuentes.
Mathew pulled into Rick’s driveway around six that evening, still thinking about his last few days in San Francisco, yet glad to be back in Oregon. Talking on the phone with Callie was not enough. He wanted her near him. One more obstacle in the form of the Fuentes and their life could begin unfold.
Her voice on the last call sounded different, carrying overtones of sadness. Was she retrogressing in her healing journey? Having Callie attracted to him filled him with optimism and tenacity. His life neared fruition, and he hoped to avoid any backsliding.
Starting the night when Steve had agreed to be his partner at Spook Hills if Mathew took charge of the vineyard, the transition to serving as the leader was becoming more real. Now Steve had turned over the negotiations, both in San Francisco and with the Fuentes. While Mathew felt capable, he also seemed less agile as he took on more responsibilities.
Usually on first seeing Callie, she smiled at him from across a room. This time she waited outside the front door. When he walked up, leaning on his cane, she took hold of his shoulders, kissed him and buried herself in his arms.
“So relieved you are back from San Francisco! Give me your word you will not step into the line of danger again.”
“Callie, I won’t give you a false assurance,” he said. “For one, we must wrap up this matter of the Fuentes and second, I will always protect those I love, my home and my friends. However, I will commit not to take on new work for the FBI.”
She gripped him tighter before pushing back and turning to open the door to the house. “I will hold you to your promise. Dinner is ready, and you must want to get back to Spook Hills.”
A clatter of dishes came from the kitchen, and they walked there together.
“Terrible thing with Ivy today,” Rick said over the noise. “Steve is still upset. Blames himself for what happened to her.”
“Not his mistake – he’ll work through his emotions,” Mathew said. “The main thing now is to finish this business with the Fuentes. Either negotiate an end or otherwise carry out a just solution. When I go to meet with them, and this will take at least one face-to-face session, stick by Steve. He’ll be apprehensive about me, about Moll and about any deal we make. Reassure him his job is here as the brains of the proceedings and to safeguard everyone associated with us. We’ll conduct a thorough briefing in the morning, and if the Bureau approves our action plan, we will make contact.”
“Why are you involved?” Rick asked.
“Back when I attended training at Quantico, Steve became a sort of idol to me. Even raw recruits like us had heard about his legendary track record for solving the most complicated international matters. He came in to conduct a guest lecture series about cracking big, complex cases. His presence in the classroom inspired me, as well as most of the other trainees.
“Getting assigned to work with him constituted the paramount honor of my career. Not only was he an exemplary agent and an insightful mentor, but he also became a father figure to me, giving me stronger values.
“This Fuentes case needs to be solved and shut down. The best in the FBI trained me. While I may be limping around, I am in command of the skills required for this mediation. Taking on these negotiations is for my own self-respect. I must be the one to clear the pathway of my life to move forward.”
Rick regarded him with a slight frown, then nodded his understanding.
“Will the work be dangerous for you?” Callie asked, pressing into him.
“The Fuentes are major perps. They can afford to hire the best of assassins and firepower. The truth is I don’t think they want us dead as much as they want their liberty. Don’t worry, I won’t take unnecessary risks.” He tightened his grip around her hand. “Too much to live for.”
Susannah ran to greet him, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her little head against him in the way she did, without saying anything. He bent down and gave her a kiss on the forehead, noticing how her eyes shone with happiness. He took her hand in his and stood facing Sassy and Rick as they put a chicken and dumpling feast out on serving plates. Callie stood on one side of him and Susannah on the other like a little family. Mathew could feel himself fill with joy. With Callie’s divorce terms approved, they were now free to move forward in a relationship.
Ivy toweled herself off after a long hot shower to unkink the muscles in her back spasming from the tense ride with Julio and the sprint
through the park to find safety. Steve sat out by the fire in their bedroom, ordering a gun to replace the one the Fuentes confiscated. She stopped in front of the mirror to comb out her wet hair and slather creams on her face and body before nestling into one of the long silken negligees Steve liked. Over that, Ivy pulled on a warm fleece robe and slid her feet into fuzzy slippers.
She cooked that afternoon to soothe her jangled nerves and now the tantalizing aroma of a deep-dish lasagna wafted around the upstairs. She planned to serve it with a crusty garlic bread, a green salad with hazelnuts and currants and a full-bodied Chianti, to be followed by biscotti and chocolate gelato. Tomorrow Lenny was to come home. He was already insistent that he would move into his trailer as soon as he regained some steadiness on his feet. Ivy suspected that sooner than he should, Lenny would be back out on patrol like an old workhorse wanting to demonstrate his value.
“Why not buy a tracking device for me?” she said, walking over to sit on the floor by Steve’s feet, nuzzling her shoulder against his leg and drying her hair by the fire.
“Like implanting a chip?” he asked in a tone of disbelief.
“No way. I mean a little gizmo to wear as a necklace or a charm. A bit late I guess.”
“Good idea for the duration of this Fuentes operation. I’ll order one to be overnighted.”
“Two in case they pick you up.”
“Fair enough. Ivy, next time start screaming. Use those defensive maneuvers I taught you.”
“Let a sharpshooter kill you and endanger innocent people? I don’t think so.”
“Make a pledge to me to put yourself first. I am skilled in handling sharpshooters.”
Ivy resisted the temptation to launch into an argument with Steve. Instead she reached up to wrap her arm around his knee and rested her head on his thigh, enjoying the masculinity of his twill pants against her skin. Her abduction today made him think he failed her while she surprised herself with her ability to cope with the charged situation.
New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2) Page 22