New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2)

by Menard, Jayne

  While unsure how much Ivy understood about what transpired, he perceived she comprehended that they chose the only way out Julio and Cruze could handle. From what he could tell, she forgave Steve for his role in today’s events.

  With their departure, Mathew became aware that his shoulder was throbbing. He went to put his arm back in the sling, hoping the hard thump from the Warthog’s bullet into his Kevlar body armor did not do consequential damage to his shoulder.

  Steve saw him wince and said, "Let me examine your injuries."

  With tender motions, Steve removed Mathew’s protective vest first from the right shoulder and then from the left. He opened up Mathew's top and walked around behind him.

  "One dandy bruise forming on your left pec,” Steve said. “No blood from the old wound, but a medic should assess the area. I’d say the bullet that stupid ass launched at you tore a muscle still fragile from the surgery. Would like to know what was going through that acorn-sized brain of his."

  Mathew nodded. The muscles in his chest burned from the impact of the gunshot. The hot pain in his aching shoulder worried him, given the nature of the injury from the restaurant incident in London. Steve slipped the shirt back over his shoulders and slid the protective vest into place, leaving them open in the front. They walked over to where the arrested hooligans stood. Three lay sprawled on the ground, dead. Medics loaded two bleeding men on stretchers, along with an agent who took a slug in the arm.

  In the next hour or two, they would give statements and answer questions to transition the case wrap-up to the Albuquerque office that would assume the FBI’s actions from here. Gerkasky’s suspected double-dealing by working with one or more underworld gangs while also working for the DEA would be disclosed and would need additional substantiation. Gerkasky tipped both sides off about the Fuentes visit here. Mathew suspected Gerkasky collected money from the DEA as a consultant and from one or more criminals.

  He wondered again why Gerkasky pointed his piece at Steve and then took aim at himself. Had he wanted to score the arrest of the Fuentes or did he want to quash any negotiated deal or was he holding a grudge over their time at the Bureau? Depending on what Gerkasky was willing or not willing to confess to, they might never know his motivations.

  This business with the Fuentes could now be wrapped up. Moll had the thumb drive with the list of criminals disclosed by the cousins. The agreement signed that morning would go on file at the Bureau, protected by the District Court from access. The Fuentes would be declared dead on arrival, blood samples would be taken and secured with the DNA results. Mathew intended to set up a memorial fund for the upkeep of the four Fuentes graves.

  While he needed to attend to wrap-up tasks, Mathew wanted to be back with Callie and hoped she could find in her heart the capacity to understand and forgive him, as he also wished Ivy could with Steve. If only Callie had stayed at home with Susannah as he wanted, she would have been spared bearing witness to the Fuentes’ deaths.

  Mathew squinted over at his big friend. The morning’s events took their toll on him. They debated hard over taking on this task with the Fuentes and who should take responsibility for it. Steve had expressed reluctance to carry out the required duty. However with Mathew’s damaged shoulder, Steve agreed to take the lead on what they ominously numbered Scenario 13.13.

  They would never forget this morning. What they did went against what they committed their lives with the FBI to doing. Nevertheless they agreed justice had been served.

  Chapter 34

  Weeks later on the Monday after Ivy and Steve’s Holiday party, Rick stopped over just as Ivy finished up the breakfast dishes. He walked in like an old friend now, poking his head in the back door and calling out a greeting as the corgis rushed noisily up to him. After petting each of them, they walked as a group into the kitchen where Ivy and Steve were planning their day.

  “Hi, Rick! Mathew is at his house, working as best he can with his bad shoulder.”

  “I came to see all of you. I have a dilemma. Maybe it could turn into an opportunity.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I think I told you I made reservations across the pond for Christmas, for four rooms for Sassy and me, Callie and Susannah and my two kids and their spouses. Damn kids have backed out. I already paid for their rooms and the four days of celebration. You and Mathew wouldn’t want to join us, would you? We’ll make a fun table of six at night, or seven with Susannah. We are planning to stay at the country house hotel you raved about last year.”

  “Days of champagne, mince pies, hunt meet on the lawn, scrumptily-delicious meals, comfy bedrooms, wood fires, villages to visit and those cozy pubs?” Ivy remarked, glancing over at Steve.

  “We’re in!” Steve said. “I want to spend a few days in London too. Perhaps we’ll go drink scotch in Edinburgh on New Year’s Eve. I hear those Scots celebrate what they call Hogmanay with a fervor that is ferocious!”

  “You in a kilt?” Ivy said and giggled. “No boxer shorts on and legs so long the skirt will just about cover your, um, cheeks?”

  Steve turned bright red at her comment, but he also chuckled.

  Ivy laughed so hard it was some time before she could continue. “I can’t wait to see that!”

  “Rick, would you mind if we ask Brian, Moll and Terry along?” Steve asked. “They need a break from their business, and I don’t think they have any plans for the holidays other than to hole up at home and recover from the long hours they put in.”

  “Great idea! Sassy grew very fond of Terry when he stayed with us last month while you were off on that case.”

  “I’ll check and see if the hotel has space first,” Steve said.

  “We do have an issue,” Ivy said, frowning over at Rick and Steve.

  “You mean Mathew and Callie not talking?” Rick asked.

  “While I don’t like interfering, this is one time where the lovers need a push,” Ivy said. “Except for Steve, we have each tried to make Callie see why the sting went down as it did, but Callie has shut us down.”

  Steve was quiet as his wife and friend stared at him hopefully. He thought for a few moments and then said, “Been thinking about this. I might have an idea. Mathew is going to France for a few days, leaving the middle of next week. We can reroute his return home through London. Let me think on it further, consider the timing and discuss it with you both before we fly out.”

  Steve and Rick went out to talk with Mathew about Christmas in England while Ivy rushed to the bedroom to consider her wardrobe in light of the trip. Each of them wore a smile of anticipation about the upcoming sojourn. The prospect of spending the holidays in England was just what they needed.

  About twenty minutes later, Steve joined her and started going over his own things, methodically moving the ones he would take with him to one section of his closet. He had his laptop on his dresser to keep a running list.

  “Been a hell of a year,” he mused as he worked.

  “Another one,” Ivy said. “Think we are finally done with the Fuentes? No more brothers or cousins? Sad that Annetta and Cruze had to die. I know, we have been through all that, but I still find it sad. They each had better sides to them.”

  “A lot else happened too,” Steve said as he pulled out a worn pair of corduroys, shook his head and put them aside. “Mathew started a relationship with Callie that remains in jeopardy, which is unfortunate as they are so well matched.”

  “What is your idea for bringing her around?”

  “Need to think about it more,” Steve said, his tones muffled as he moved deeper into the closet.

  Ivy walked in to hang up some clothes she would not take with her. “Darling Susannah was kidnapped and, along with Callie, is still struggling to rebuild her shattered life.”

  “Yeah and thank heaven, Callie left the oppressive John Henry and got divorced. I heard he has not embraced sobriety so no visitation rights with Susannah.”

  “Might be just as well . . . By the way, sorry to ask aga
in but did you ever hear back from your son?”

  “Not a word. I emailed Jeremy but nothing. Think I’ll call him at the office and try to corral him. Maybe in the new year.”

  “Mathew ever hear more from his birth mother?” asked Ivy. “She sounded so dreadful that I have feared she would become a problem.”

  “Think he found a way to head her off.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. In my opinion Mathew is too kind to her. He researched the level of her income from the trust his father set up. Since Mathew neither wants nor needs any money remaining in the trust fund upon his birth mother’s death, he plans to authorize his father’s attorney to disperse an additional annual amount to her.”

  “I guess he wants to honor his father’s life-long love of the woman, dreadful though she sounds. Ivy said as she pulled out a much loved red cashmere sweater from its shelf near the front of the closet. She gave it a shake and decided it would do for the trip, so she walked it over to the bed. Tweeds, wools, evening clothes – not an easy trip when it came to luggage to wrestle with at airports.

  As she turned back, she watched Steve put his black tie with his trip clothes and remembered the first time he had worn it a year ago at the Christmas Party following their wedding. He, Mathew, Brian and Moll had all looked so handsome in their evening attire as they waited for their guests to arrive – friends, other FBI agents, the Chief and neighbors. She wanted each of the three younger men to be as happy in life as she and Steve were. Would Steve’s idea, whatever it might be, for turning Callie around work? Could Steve get her to forgive Mathew for the deaths of the Fuentes cousins?

  A few days before Christmas, Mathew and Moll parked a rental car in the town of Versailles and walked with purpose to a nearby bistro. Mathew stayed three days in the Languedoc region, tasting wines before picking up Moll at the Charles De Gaulle airport. He carried a black case with two boxes inside. Moll lugged along a laptop and official papers. A few subjects needed to be covered over their scheduled lunch.

  They escaped the damp cold of an early Parisian winter by entering the white table-clothed restaurant. A woman with shoulder-length straight blonde hair and tinted glasses bent her right wrist to raise her hand two inches off the table. She sat facing the door across from a man with auburn hair. He turned his head when Mathew walked up, and he noticed the man’s green eyes and smooth forehead. The two people shook their hands, saying their names as Nicola and Maxim. A bottle of Roederer champagne was chilling in an ice bucket next to the table. Moll rapped his knuckles on the arm of the woman named Nicola, as he did before with Annetta. Mathew no longer found the memory painful.

  He sat down and put the small case between himself and Maxim. Maxim nudged the suitcase with his foot and nodded in understanding. The waiter came over to pour the bubbly wine at the slightest of signals from Nicola. She made a toast to new friends, took a tiny sip and smiled a more generous smile than Mathew had seen from her before. Moll pulled out a sheaf of papers, pushing one packet to Nicola and one to Maxim. They walked through the two addendums even though drafts had already been circulated to the Fuentes. Nicola and Maxim signed the four signature pages, kept one set each and handed the others to Moll. He placed the copies in his briefcase and moved it to the floor between his feet. Nicola took Maxim’s copy to secure the documents in her slim attaché.

  “I’m glad we are together once again,” Nicola said with sincere softness in her voice, reaching out to touch Mathew and Moll on the arms.

  “As we are happy to see each of you well and alive,” Mathew said, leaning forward to whisper. “Steve sends his regards. He so appreciated the email you sent him. I think shooting you two is the toughest thing Steve ever did. He claims he checked the revolver a dozen times. He even put red tape on the cartridge with the blanks and on the blank gun.”

  “Not easy being on the other end of a pistol held by the man Cristo called our nemesis,” Maxim said with a bare smile. “His intense concentration made me think the charade had turned into an execution.”

  “Get real. The big guy is totally cool,” Moll said with conviction in his voice.

  “We believe he is now,” Cruze replied.

  “You two sure die in a realistic way,” Mathew said.

  “We played games as kids – shootouts where we pretended to die although we over-acted to amuse each other. Brian went through the setup with us in Albuquerque and demonstrated how to work the blood pouches. With his help, we figured out how to die at least as convincingly as the actors do on TV.” Nicola said.

  She straightened in her chair, appearing shapelier than Mathew remembered.

  “Padding,” she said, following Mathew’s gaze. “Trying out this new body to determine if I will like silicone implants. What do you think? Is this better than skinny Annetta?”

  He chortled at her words. “You will be stunning and elegant, whether as Julio, Annetta or Nicola, but I prefer the thinner, more real, you.”

  She smiled slightly. “How is your sweet Callie?”

  “Not willing to forgive me,” Mathew replied. “My failure to forewarn her shocked and injured her. I destroyed her belief in me by not taking her into my confidence. She just wasn’t supposed to be there. She and Ivy still think you are dead. Ivy has forgiven Steve, understanding that you each agreed to die rather than be captured by the perps who showed up or imprisoned by the FBI or DEA.”

  “Their surprise made the scene have the impact of reality. Callie’s screams sounded genuine because they came from her heart. I thought Ivy guessed, didn’t she?”

  “Not exactly. Ivy is not the screamer type,” Mathew said. ”When she guessed, she thought we had agreed on a mercy killing. Steve had asked her to trust him, and his words led her to explore other possibilities than the obvious.”

  Nicola took another minuscule taste from her flute and asked, “You want to be married?”

  “If Callie will one day exonerate me. She still won’t go out with me, and she speaks to me as little as possible,” Mathew said. He tapped his blazer pocket. “Perhaps foolishly, I bought an engagement ring for her a few days ago and had it resized. Picked it up this morning in Paris.”

  “May I see it?” Nicola asked.

  He slid the box out of his pocket to hand to Nicola. He decided on a single striking solitaire flanked by smaller diamonds inset in platinum from the Cartier’s 1895 line. The engagement ring resembled the one he and Steve had picked out for Ivy, yet side-by-side, each would be as unique as the woman who wore it, each one classy and a keepsake. While he struggled to stay positive about Callie, he feared he might be dooming the diamond to a safety deposit box for a time or even forever. After returning home, days had turned into weeks where Callie refused to talk with him, even staying away from neighborhood gatherings and parties.

  Nicola popped open the clasp on the small red box with gilded inlay. She murmured in appreciation as she viewed the diamond. “Exquisite. Your Callie has an old-fashioned sweetness to her. You must honor the kindness in her heart. You have our permission to tell Ivy and Callie.”

  “You sure? The more people you know, the higher the risk of a leak that you are alive and living abroad.”

  “You deserve to be happy. You have saved each of us. You allowed us to make new lives here in Spain. Yes, you may tell them. I thought this might happen, and we typed up our own addendum.”

  Nicola slid four signed copies out of her briefcase. “Sign these and the agreement is complete. We are authorizing you to tell Ivy and Callie the truth of what happened that day.”

  “I hope she will listen and think it through. Not sure she is ready to commit herself to me,” Mathew said.

  “She will need to resolve her emotions around our deception. I’m afraid we asked too much of you.”

  Maxim had been sitting listening to the exchange and looking thoughtful. Quietly and in an unsure voice, he asked, “If you do marry, where would you honeymoon?”

  “I want to take Callie on a tour of th
e wineries here in France, going first to the great champagne houses, over to the Loire, down into Burgundy, then through the Languedoc region with stops along the way and into Provence. Wines are our future. She works with her uncle at his winery as his general manager.”

  “If all that works out, perhaps you will sail the Mediterranean with me for a few days after your journey? By that time, I should own a sailboat suitable for casual touring.”

  “Wow! That would be a fantastic way to end our honeymoon. If Callie relents, I’ll talk to her about it,” Mathew said. “I’m sure she would love to spend time with you both again.”

  “And you, Moll. When will your time be?” asked Nicola.

  “Zoinks!” Moll said, his voice rising in surprise. “Still searching. Need the right squeeze to trip the light fantastic, you know?”

  “When you do, I will make the same offer,” Cruze said.

  “I’d be over the top to sail the Med with you.”

  “The loss of my brothers created a hole in my heart I will carry the rest of my life. Even so, I gained brothers in spirit.” Maxim pronounced the words in a stout tone, making Mathew feel the truth in them.

  “I now have what I never enjoyed before,” Nicola said. “Men in my life who give me friendship. How is handsome, gentle Brian? Will we ever hear from him again?”

  “Brian-boy is like up to his eyeballs on two projects with our other guy, Terry,” Moll replied. “He’s cuddling up to a banko-client who wants us to expand into the United Kingdom. While we are on this jaunt, he’s researching the 411 on what we need to conduct business there.

  “Been a bonus year for us. Like we went from couldn’t get a call back from prospects to leasing office space, hiring a bunch of dudes and expanding to London of all the rad places in just twelve months. Blows the mind! We need to chill the rest of this year, Brian most of all.”

  “Give him my best wishes for his holidays,” Nicola said, ducking her head to hide a small smile.

  “Wait a moment. The old smoothie assembled a little present for you,” Moll said. He reached down and dug around in his briefcase, taking out a white envelope with a little red ribbon tied around it.