New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2)

by Menard, Jayne

  Undeterred Moll said. “We use our software to isolate felonious or aberrant transactions. We’re versatile because we identify patterns and anomalies and not just focus on specific issues.”

  After a pause Cruze asked, “How did you find my brothers?”

  Since they missed lunch, they dined early by London standards and only two other patrons were in the room. Mathew leaned forward and said in a soft tone. “Luck. After hearing about the case, Ivy developed a theory about two or three siblings where one ran the back office and might be housebound. Seemed plausible and we monitored the thread until Steve found the news story on Eduardo’s abduction.”

  “So she is more than an attractive woman. I thought so,” Julio said.

  “To continue on finding your brothers -- once we found the news coverage on Eduardo, we traced records on your family until we discovered the mailing address in Santa Fe. Moll operated at the Post Office as our undercover until Cristo picked the mail up and he shadowed him.”

  Cruze glared at Moll like such sneakiness should be beneath him. Moll shrugged.

  Mathew continued talking, “We pursued several avenues for collecting sufficient evidence to ensure your brothers committed the crimes we had investigated before going in for an arrest.”

  “You say arrest and yet Eduardo and Cristo are dead,” Cruze said, his voice tinged with bitterness.

  “We planned a capture,” Moll interjected. “Steve and three of his agents went into the house only for that reason. Cristo went bonkers and started shooting.”

  Julio touched Cruze’s arm, and he slouched back in his chair. Mathew could see he wanted to blame someone for his brothers’ deaths, even though in his heart he was starting to accept they had doomed themselves by not leaving Fuentes Enterprises soon enough. Slowly the hostility lifted from Cruze’s face.

  A little starter arrived to begin the evening, before their ordered first course. Arranged in an artful shape, the tiny scallops shimmered on the plate next to a slender ribbon of spicy green sauce. Mathew loved to dine well. This little palate-teaser showed Julio offered them an indulgence with this restaurant.

  While they waited for their next course, a few more diners came in. The dining room came lightly abuzz with talk, like a beehive coming awake at dawn. When they started on their appetizers, a wave of unease slid over Mathew’s left side. The greeter answered the phone and then walked through the room to the kitchen. Mathew peered over at the reception area. Two men wearing dark suits came into the dining room. Their eyes skimmed the tables and Mathew knew they were in danger.

  “Get down!” Mathew yelled without hesitation while grappling for his gun. His chair toppled backward as he leaped towards Julio, flinging his body over him and pushing him to the floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Moll shoot up in the air, tackle Cruze and tumble with him to the carpet.

  Two shots burst out. A hot pain seared into Mathew’s back. Beneath him he could feel Julio squirming and then Julio wrenched the gun from his hand, sliding out from under him and away under the table.

  Mathew could feel himself fading, laying heavier on the floor. Callie’s sweet face came into his mind. The light began to fade and he sunk into unconsciousness.

  Chapter 28

  Close to midnight, the day after the shooting, Callie dozed next to Mathew in a London hospital. She had flown in that morning with Steve and Ivy, leaving Susannah with Rich and Sassy. The 24 hour FBI protection continued back on the two vineyards.

  The three of them made a quick stop at the hotel to drop their bags and freshen up. Then they hurried to the hospital to see Mathew and take over from Moll. Mathew was alive, but not conscious. They met with the doctor on duty who described the delicate surgery performed in the early morning hours to remove a bullet that entered Mathew’s body under his scapula. The bullet had chipped the bone as it passed, which slowed its trajectory. It tore through muscle until it stopped after cracking the edge of a vertebra. The bullet had to be removed from where it lodged itself near his spine.

  While the doctor seemed optimistic, Mathew was kept sedated and as immobile as possible to allow the swelling in the area to go down.

  Policemen guarded his room from a command post in the hallway. Steve contacted the lead agent in London and conferred with the police. After spending some time with Mathew, Steve left with Ivy and Moll to go back to the hotel. Tired and distressed, Moll had to be pried away from Mathew’s side, giving up his place only when Callie insisted she would stay with Mathew. Once Ivy and Moll were settled in their hotel rooms, Steve planned to come back to the hospital to sit up with Callie and to guard Mathew.

  Callie woke up to the murmured tones of someone praying over Mathew. She opened her eyes to see a priest with his head bowed. As she stirred to push herself upright, the priest lifted his head. Callie saw a delicate, handsome face with eyes of a startling blue holding deep sadness. She shook her head to clear away her drowsiness. Why did his face seem familiar?

  “You must be Callie,” the priest said. “Mathew spoke of you.”

  “Julio?” Callie asked, now remembering him from the photograph Steve had shown her.

  The man’s voice was evenly modulated and soft. “Your Mathew is like no one I ever met. I am alive now because he threw himself over me. He took my bullet. I am sorry.”

  “Why are you here? We thought you and Cruze went into hiding.”

  “I needed to be assured Mathew would recover before I leave the country. I kept calling the floor desk every few hours, then I donned this garb and waited downstairs. When the big agent left, I took advantage of his absence to come up to see Mathew.”

  “The police let you in?” Callie asked.

  “Easy with me dressed as I am and wearing a security badge I picked up in the chapel. I will not harm Mathew,” Julio said and frowned. “You should not be here unprotected. I will stay with you until someone returns.”

  “Steve is on his way back.”

  Julio inhaled through his nose, held the breath, released it with a resigned sigh and said. “He will catch me. I would only stay here for Mathew or Moll.”

  At that moment Steve filled the doorway with his big frame. “Julio,” he said in a harsh tone.

  Julio turned to him, raising his eyes to meet Steve’s.

  “Did you hire someone to do this?” Steve asked, pointing at Mathew.

  Julio stared back at him with a wretched expression and said, “Once perhaps, we contemplated going after you in particular.”

  “Not anymore?”

  “Despite what you may think, Cruze and I are not vengeful. We want peace, not retaliation, especially after working with Mathew and Moll. They are such good men. Aside from Cruze’s father, I never encountered a man who puts ideals before greed, lust and power.”

  “Steve is a good person,” Callie said. “The best. Now you can count four. If you knew my uncle, you would add a fifth. There are others, like my father when he was alive and Steve’s other friends.”

  “You’ve know bad men too?” Julio asked, with more than a hint of skepticism in his voice.

  “Yes,” Callie said before smiling, tilting up her chin and sitting straighter. “Luckily more good ones than bad.”

  “Tell us what happened,” Steve said in a restrained tone, as he walked closer to the bed. Julio’s words made him back off from the tough stance he assumed when he first came into the room.

  “Didn’t you hear Moll’s story?” Julio asked.

  “I want your perspective. You sat opposite Moll at the table, correct?

  “Yes, Mathew sat on my right and Cruze on my left,” Julio replied. “Cruze and I planned for him to keep an eye on the entry and for me on the door to the kitchen which meant my back was to the entrance. This is our way. We always map out our escape routes.

  “The shooting happened fast. The woman at the front must have taken a call because she walked through the dining room to the kitchen as if going to ask a question. When our appetizers were served, we took
a moment to admire the presentation of the scrumptious plates.”

  Julio paused to remember some little detail. As impatient as Steve could be, Callie also knew he was a good listener and would give Julio time to describe the events in his way.

  “Something alerted Mathew,” Julio said. “I remember his head turning towards the door and his right hand sliding under his jacket. He yelled at us to get down. Then he hurtled himself over me, pushing me to the floor, protecting me with his body. Moll did the same with Cruze. We were all toppling down when shots rang out. One hit Mathew as he landed. Cruze and Moll started firing back. I grabbed the gun Mathew pulled out before he fainted on top of me.”

  Julio searched inside his priest’s robe and removed a heavy pistol. Steve’s hand reflexively moved to his shoulder harness.

  “Not here!” Callie said. Her voice sounded far more commanding than she felt. She moved against the bed to shield Mathew.

  Julio lowered the muzzle to point at the floor, his lips curling up into a hint of a smile as he walked the few steps over to Steve to hand him the pistol.

  “It’s loaded,” Julio said.

  Steve eased his right hand away from his gun, took the weapon from Julio, removed the cartridge and secured Mathew’s Glock pistol behind his back. His face softened as he looked at Julio and said, “Had me for a moment.”

  Julio backed up a few paces and stood with a bemused expression. Closer to Steve, his height diminished, and Callie could just make out a feminine litheness and grace. For a scant moment, a window opened to the real Annetta underlying the Julio image, itself hidden beneath the priest’s robes, then he moved back to the other side of Mathew, away from Steve.

  “To continue,” Julio said, “the men fled. Gunshots echoed out front in the street. All went quiet. Moll jumped up and scanned the restaurant. The early diners cringed on the floor or ducked under a table. Moll shouted at Cruze and me to leave, started dialing his phone and bent over Mathew, telling us he lived.

  “Cruze grasped me by the arm and pulled me to the kitchen. Since we kept our guns out, the kitchen staff never moved as we went through. They pointed to the back door, and we escaped into a middle-of-the-block loading zone. We ran out to Conduit Street, slid and hid in small Mayfair streets until we hopped on the tube at Oxford Circus.”

  “Lucky you didn’t get lost in that cobweb of streets,” Steve said. “Classy area or not, the little streets in London’s neighborhoods can be confusing.

  “I am skilled at memorizing maps and layouts. Google Maps is my lifeline. On the tube we took the short ride to Piccadilly, walked back to the hotel, gathered up our things and went off in another taxi. In case anyone shadowed us, we asked the cabbie to give us a tour of the city. When we found no sign of a tail, we went to take other lodgings in Kensington near Harrods.”

  Steve asked Julio a couple of questions then told him that the gunfire outside left the FBI agent guarding Mathew and Moll in critical condition.

  “May I go?” Julio asked, staring Steve straight in the eyes.

  “Wait. Either you or Cruze or both of you must be carrying a transmitter, which functions as a Geotag to send the coordinates of your current location. All a person needs is that data and some GPS software to track you,” Steve said.

  “Moll went over our tablets and laptops.”

  “This microchip will be small, about the size of a dime. Might be square. It will be concealed in an object you usually wear or carry with you – footwear, wallet, attaché or luggage.”

  Julio’s eyes widened in comprehension. Steve reached into the pocket of his Burberry trench coat to bring out a gadget dwarfed by his big hand.

  “Here, take this device,” Steve said giving it to Julio. “It will detect any transmitters secreted away. Be thorough. You should even go over any cuffs or seams where the material is doubled over.”

  “How did we miss this?” Julio asked.

  “Some of these homing devices are like a credit card. Go over everything. Expect to find at least one such widget with each of you. Hunt for several. Examine your insoles and your heels. If nothing turns up, discard everything with you and buy replacements. At some point, perhaps when you left your bags in your room, someone planted these trackers.”

  “For now they can still figure out where we are. Why haven’t they killed us?” Julio asked.

  “My guess is a person or persons unknown sought to ascertain what you are up to and will execute you once they find out.”

  “What if we find any of these Geotags?”

  “First only handle them with tweezers in case we can glean any evidence from them. Second put them in little Ziploc baggies and third send a courier with them to our hotel here in London – same one we booked you into.”

  “I will call you either way,” Julio said, again regarding Steve as if puzzled by him.

  “You will leave the city?” Steve asked.

  “We must.”

  “I will text you an update on how Mathew is doing,” Steve said. “Use the cell we gave you or another new phone to tell us you are safe. When Mathew can move around, we will again schedule the trip you requested. Call us with your airport of choice for departure.”

  Julio nodded, edging towards the door, apparently anxious to be gone but staying to hear Steve out.

  “Also those added twists will take time,” Steve said. “We can put the agreement in place with those new terms pending a formal addendum. You and Cruze should prepare and vote on motions to transition each foundation's board as specified in the required procedures for each of the funds. Tie the motion to the forthcoming codicil. You can always rescind them later if this cannot be worked out.”

  Julio thought for a moment and said, “You should document that our wills leave everything to each other and ultimately to the Foundations. I will send you a copy of our wills, just in case.”

  “Thus redounding the principal. Not sure I will ever understand you two.”

  “We are not all bad.”

  Callie went over to embrace Julio, sympathetic to this unhappy man who was not a man. “Of course you're not. Putting yourself at risk by worrying about Mathew speaks to my heart. I will tell him you came to pray for his recovery. I hope you find the life you want, Julio. For now, please be careful.”

  Julio walked out with a gentle gliding gait, moving the way a priest might when going to pray. In the doorway he did not turn to leave as much as vanished.

  “Glad I came back,” Steve said as he turned to Callie.

  “He wanted to guard me even if he might be captured,” Callie said.

  Steve’s left eyebrow raised at the comment. “Of all the cases I have handled in my career, this one never ceases to amaze me with its twists, turns and skids.”

  He pulled a chair over next to her where she again sat holding Mathew’s hand while he slept his drugged slumber.

  “You remind me of Ivy sitting by my hospital bed in Santa Fe about this time last year. She refused to let go of my hand for two days after Cristo fired those bullets stopping my heart,” Steve said.

  “This is hard for you, isn’t it? Dealing with the brother and cousin of the man who did his best to kill you?” Callie asked.

  “I am torn between wanting to make those two cousins jailbirds and adhering to the requirements in the draft document,” Steve said and paused. “Callie, we know people can change. We can find our true selves.”

  “And now that you encountered Julio?”

  “I can better understand why Mathew and Moll believe their motives. While Julio and Cruze are out to save their own necks, they are not without some redeeming qualities.”

  Callie placed her head on Steve’s shoulder as he sat next to her. “You told me we each are made up of good and bad parts. I think they are finding their paths to the good.”

  She continued to sit by Mathew, resting her fingers on his wrist and leaning against Steve, letting the strength he never seemed to run out of flow into her until she again drifted off to sleep, ap
prehensive but comforted.

  Chapter 29

  A week later, Cruze walked into the United Airlines terminal at Heathrow, sweeping his eyes around the departure area. Following a channel crossing on the old ferry to Amsterdam, he and Julio had split up in hopes of sliding away unidentified as solo travelers. His cousin should join him a little before the flight today.

  The big agent was right about the transmitters. They found four of them, one in each of their left shoes, one in Julio’s briefcase and one in his small backpack. In case they missed any, in one long day they went shopping, buying new clothing and other items and discarding the old ones as they went.

  The big agent, his wife and Moll expected to meet them in the international lounge. An FBI legat greeted him at the train station to furnish him with a passport and ticketing information. While he still worried about trusting the big agent, the man had let Julio go after seeing him when he visited Mathew.

  Since Cruze only brought carry-on baggage, check-in went quickly. Every stop in the airport made him worry about this dangerous journey. Every step down the passage might mean a step nearer incarceration or death. He and Julio still failed to identify the man or men pursuing them.

  Cruze followed the signs to the United lounge, walking at a brisk pace to act like any other traveler. The door to the clubroom slid open and once more Cruze showed his travel documents. From there he walked as directed to a conference room down a hall, hesitated and then pushed the door open. At the far end of the long table, even larger than he anticipated, stood the big agent. His wife, who Cruze remembered from the abduction in Portland, sat in front of him. Moll loafed up front eating food from the buffet. Worn and haggard, Mathew sat in a chair with a sling on his left arm. The woman, who must be his girlfriend, passed him a cup of coffee. The five of them made an interesting tableau.

  The group appeared uncomfortably alert together, which made him uncertain of his welcome. Moll set his plate down and walked over, clapping him on the shoulder like a friend. The big agent gave him an icy stare, before nodding an acknowledgment. He saw no sign of Julio.