"I think so," he muttered, although his answer was closer to a lie than the truth. He wasn't thinking about Mateo and his mother anymore, or the danger that had almost gotten them killed, but he was thinking a lot about Tara, about how close she was, how dark it was in the room, how intimate their conversation had become.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent hours just talking to a woman. And with Tara, conversation flowed surprisingly easily. Maybe because the normal barriers of a first meet had been shattered by bullets. Fighting off danger had also brought them closer together faster than normal.
Forcing himself to roll onto his other side, he faced the wall, thinking that might help him to stop thinking about her. But instead he found himself waiting to hear the next catch of her breath. Eventually, her breathing was slow and steady.
She was asleep. And he was wide awake.
* * *
Diego woke up to a phone call from Wyatt just before eight o'clock on Friday morning. He didn't know when he'd eventually fallen asleep, but it felt like five minutes ago.
Tara's eyes were still closed, so he took the phone into the bathroom and quietly shut the door.
"Hope it's not too early to call," Wyatt said.
"It's never too early for information. What do you have?"
"I talked to my CI in New York. He was not familiar with a Mateo Salazar. He only worked with Juan Felipe and his son Rico, who's in his late twenties. He said there are branches of the family in New York and Los Angeles. They have an extensive distribution and money laundering pipeline. I've gone through our files on the family, and I'm texting you a family tree."
"Is there any mention of a Camilla Lopez Salazar on that tree?"
"Yes," Wyatt said.
His pulse jumped. "Who did she marry?"
"Tomas Salazar. He's a cousin to the three brothers who run the organization, and he was a lawyer in Medellin. They married sixteen years ago. Your mother died two years after they tied the knot, and then Tomas passed away of a heart attack two years after that." Wyatt paused. "I also found the death certificate for your mother and a few details on what happened. Apparently, she fell during a hike in the mountains near Cascada."
His stomach twisted with that horrifying piece of news. He sat down on the edge of the tub. "She died while hiking?"
"That's what it said on the police report. It had rained the day before. She slipped on some wet rocks and fell."
"My mother hated to hike. She didn't even like to walk with her friends."
"Maybe she changed," Wyatt suggested. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news."
"I'm grateful you have any news." As he thought about what Wyatt had told him, he made mental calculations in his head. "Mateo would have been ten when my mother died and twelve when Tomas died. What the hell happened to him after that?"
"I don't know. I found no reference to a Mateo anywhere. Tomas was married to a woman named Lucinda Veracruz before he married your mother, but that union produced no children."
"No indication of that. Or that he raised a child after your mother passed away."
He thought about that for a moment. Had his mother left Mateo at some point? Could she have sent Mateo to live with his biological father before she married Salazar?
"How can there be no record of my brother?" he muttered in frustration.
"I don't know, but I can't find anything on anyone named Mateo with the last name Rivera, Lopez, or Salazar, who's within ten years of your brother's age. He has to be living under another name. You said your father left your mother because she cheated. What about that man?"
"No idea who he is or what his name is. I'm not sure my father knows, either, but if he does, he's determined to take it to the grave."
"Maybe you should ask him again."
"I don't have much hope he'll suddenly decide to cooperate since he's refused me every other time. I'm going to have to figure this out on my own."
"Well, the information I pulled together is sketchy on Salazar family members beyond those who are clearly running the organization. Tomas may have been involved in the cartel as a lawyer or may not have been," Wyatt continued. "I'll text you the list I've put together. Maybe something else will jump out at you."
"Thanks."
"What else do you need from me? Do you want me to dig more into this missing woman?"
"I asked Lucas to do that since he has contacts here in Colombia. There is one question you might be able to answer. Do you know where Tomas practiced law in Medellin? Because I'm in the city now. Maybe I could find something out at his former practice."
"I looked into that. He worked with a partner—Hector Pilacio. Their office was located at 1220 Appian Boulevard, if you want to see if anyone there remembers Tomas and your mother. I was going to call this morning. I was waiting for the offices to be open."
"No problem. I'll take it from here."
As he disconnected from Wyatt, he opened his text messages and skimmed through the list of names that Wyatt had sent him.
Wyatt's information lined up with what he'd heard from Lucas. Caleb Salazar was the patriarch in charge of the organization. He was sixty-five years old, married three times. First wife Sophia had borne two girls: Catherine and Juanita. Second wife, Julia, had given him a daughter, Elizabeth, and third wife Lila had given him another daughter named Sonya.
Caleb's brothers, Juan Felipe and Santoro, were also married with children. Juan Felipe had two sons: Rico and William. Santoro had a son Pablo and a daughter Vanessa. In addition, Caleb's cousins were mostly married, and there were a bunch of kids in that generation.
It was strange that while Wyatt had found mention of his mother's death and her marriage to Tomas, there was nothing about Mateo.
Maybe his mother had handed him off to someone else to raise.
Hopefully, someone at Tomas's former law firm would remember his mother and possibly Mateo.
Standing up, he set his phone on the counter and then took a quick shower.
When he returned to the bedroom fifteen minutes later, he saw Tara standing at the window. She'd thrown open the curtains and her blonde hair sparkled in the sunshine. She wasn't wearing anything particularly sexy, but when she turned and gave him a nervous smile, her natural beauty made his gut clench.
He'd been so caught up in the call from Wyatt, and thoughts about his brother, that he'd almost forgotten her mission to find Bethany.
But they could do both. They had to do both. Because neither one of them was leaving without the information they'd come to get.
"I heard you on the phone," she said. "Is there any news?"
"Not about Bethany. My friend Wyatt sent me a list of Salazar names, the ones most obviously involved in the cartel."
"I thought you were talking to someone named Lucas," she interrupted.
"Wyatt is a fellow FBI agent, a good friend of mine. He's in California. He's helping me out, too."
"Okay. What did he tell you?"
"He hasn't found a Mateo Salazar anywhere in the family, but he did find my mother. She apparently married a lawyer, Tomas Salazar, about two years after she was kicked out of the States by my father. She died two years into that marriage, and Tomas died two years after that. But he worked here in Medellin until his death. I have an address for the firm where he worked. I'm hoping it's still in business and someone remembers him and my mother, and most importantly, my brother."
"That's great," she said, a gleam of excitement entering her gaze. "That's a solid clue."
"We'll see if it plays out."
"We can go there first if you want. I'm not really expecting us to find anything at the apartment where Bethany was staying, although I still want to go."
"All right," he said, happy that she'd made the offer. "I would like to check this law office out. I also need to make a stop on the way to pick up a weapon."
"And maybe we could grab a coffee and pastry somewhere," she said. "I'm hungry."
"You've got it."
"I'll get dressed."
As she moved past him and into the shower, his thoughts went with her, imagining her stripping off the black leggings and the oversized sweatshirt. Shaking his head at that errant thought, he shoved his sweats into a suitcase and rezipped his bag. Then he went on the internet and put in Tomas Salazar's name.
A dozen listings sprang up, the most recent being an obituary. He read through the one- paragraph tribute, but there was no personal information beyond the fact that Tomas was survived by his family and was a well-respected attorney.
He looked up the law firm next. It seemed to still be in business, with Hector Pilacio at the helm. His heart beat a little faster. Hector had worked with Tomas when he was married to his mother. He had to have known her and also Mateo.
This might be the break he'd been looking for…
Seven
After leaving the hotel, they made a quick stop at an auto shop. Tara waited in the lobby while Diego walked into the back room with a mechanic. He'd told her that one of his contacts had arranged for him to pick up a weapon. She'd thought they might be going to the police station or some other law enforcement office, but apparently this was some kind of a side deal.
She tapped her feet impatiently as she waited, feeling on edge now that they were back out in public. She'd put on low-heeled boots for this trip along with jeans and a cream-colored sweater under a short tan jacket. It might be spring, but the temperature in Medellin was only supposed to get up to the low sixties today. At least if she had to run somewhere, she was better prepared than she'd been the day before.
A woman came into the lobby, and she started, her nerves tightening once more, but the woman was only interested in getting a can of soda out of the vending machine.
Finally, Diego returned. He didn't say a word, just tipped his head toward the door.
"Did you get it?" she asked when they got into the car.
"All set." He pulled back his black leather jacket to show her the gun.
A week ago, she would have hated being so close to a man with a weapon, but after yesterday, she felt relieved they had a way to defend themselves.
As Diego drove across town, she couldn't help noticing his positive energy. He had a big lead, and she hoped he wasn't about to hit a brick wall at the law offices. She knew how it felt to be on the brink of something, only to be disappointed. She'd felt that way after she'd first spoken to Father Manuel, when he'd told her to come back on Thursday, and he would help her find Bethany. He'd been forthcoming in their first conversation, kind, eager to be of assistance, but the next day he'd shut down. She'd seen something in his eyes, a despair, a sadness, perhaps even an anger, but whoever had told him not to talk to her had had power over him.
She still wondered if he'd been targeted because of her, if someone hadn't trusted that he would remain silent. But why would other Salazars have been injured if that was the case? Unless, they truly had just been caught in the crossfire.
None of that mattered anymore. Father Manuel was dead and whatever information he'd had on Bethany had died with him. Now, she was back to square one.
She didn't know if they would find any more clues in Medellin, but hopefully one of Diego's FBI contacts would be able to come up with some trail they could follow.
In the meantime, she'd go with Diego to the law office where his mother's husband had worked. It would feel good to accomplish anything at this point, and she was grateful to Diego for not only saving her life more than once but for also getting his associates involved in Bethany's case. He was her best chance at finding her friend.
She didn't know if she was his best chance at finding his brother, but she could be supportive. She liked Diego, probably far more than she should. Besides being incredibly attractive, he was smart, protective, and caring. He was also a surprisingly good listener. She couldn't remember pouring out so much about herself to a man. She'd told him about her parents, about Brian, about Bethany. She'd confessed her inability to take chances, her unwillingness to put herself out there, and he'd made her realize that whatever mental and emotional restraints she'd put on herself in the past, they were long gone now.
She had no idea what she was doing, but she was doing it. She was pushing the envelope, pressing forward, taking risks. She might not have made the best decisions up to this point, but she was still alive, still fighting for Bethany. And she wasn't going to quit or let any lingering insecurities derail her.
As Diego took a sharp turn, she put a hand on the door to brace herself. "Are we being followed?"
"No. We're good," he said, glancing into the rearview mirror.
"Have you ever had to outrun a tail?"
"Many times. I'm a good driver. You don't have to worry."
"Worrying about your driving does not even make the top ten of my what to worry about list."
He flashed her that quick smile that lit up his dark eyes and made her heart tumble every time it happened.
"Do I want to know what the top ten worries are?" he asked.
"You really don't." She cleared her throat. "But this morning's mission is about your brother. What is Mateo like?"
"I haven't seen him since he was eight years old, so at twenty-six, I have no idea."
"As a child then…what was his personality?"
"He was a happy kid. He loved the Ninja Turtles and Toy Story. He liked making up games and acting them out. He could be kind of a brat, too. I'd have my friends over, and he'd keep coming into the room, interrupting us."
"That's what little brothers are supposed to do," she said with a smile.
"He did like my attention, and most of the time I enjoyed playing with him, but I was hitting my teenage years and starting to feel the age gap between us. I regret that I ever wished he'd just go away for a few minutes."
"You were being a normal kid. You didn't know it was going to end."
"I didn't know. I couldn't have imagined how our lives would change. My parents fought quite a bit, but my dad worked a lot, so he wasn't home that much, and when it was the three of us, we were good. We'd cook together, watch movies, do puzzles and homework. When my mom worked, I'd watch Mateo. We were tight."
"I didn’t realize your mom worked. What did she do?"
"She was a nurse. She didn't work for a long time, and then she went back part time the last two years that she was in my life. I know my dad didn't like it. She didn't always have dinner ready for him when he came home, and he had come to expect his wife to be there when he wanted her to be there."
"Sounds like a traditional man."
"Yes. He was also demanding and arrogant. It was his way or the highway—literally."
"I wonder why your mother and brother had to disappear so completely, though. They could have just moved into a nearby apartment. Was it deliberate? Was your mom afraid of your father, that he might come after her, or that he might hurt her or Mateo?"
"He wasn't physically abusive that I ever saw. But he could certainly rip someone to shreds with his words. And he did do that quite a bit. I'm sure she was intimidated by him. But I can't imagine why she would have been scared he would come after her. Because he never wanted to see her again."
"Then why did she take such lengths to cover her trail? Clearly, she did, if you haven't been able to find her with all the resources you have at the bureau."
"I've asked myself that question a lot. A part of me wonders if my dad is the one who made her disappear. If he set her up somewhere so that I could never find her. Taking me away from her was her punishment for what she'd done to him. I was the pawn."
"It must drive you nuts that he won't help you find her. You know he has information, but you can't get it out of him."
"It makes me insane," he admitted. "I've wanted to put my hands on his throat and squeeze the words out of him."
"But you don't, because you're not crazy."
"I've been tempted. But there's also a part of me that isn't sure my dad knows where my mom is. Maybe the man
she was with, Mateo's father, is the one who helped her disappear. Perhaps he didn't want my father to come after her. I'm hoping that Hector Pilacio can tell me how she met Tomas Salazar and whether Tomas was Mateo's real father. And, of course, I'd like him to tell me where I can find my brother. But, at this point, I'll settle for anything."
Several minutes later, they reached the two-story building that housed the law firm. The structure was modest and a bit rundown. Inside was no better. The paint on the walls was faded and stained in places, and the hallway carpet should have been replaced. But there was still a sign for Hector Pilacio, attorney, so they walked up the stairs and into the office.
There was an older woman sitting at a desk. She was painting her fingernails. There was a strong scent of acetone in the air. She gave them a somewhat surprised look, as if she hadn't expected anyone to come through the door. There was a private office off to her right, and the door was closed.
"Buenos dias," Diego said. "Estoy buscando a Hector Pilacio."
"Cuál es su nombre?"
"Diego Rivera," he said, giving the receptionist his name.
"Un momento." She got up from her desk, gave a short knock on the adjacent door, and then disappeared inside.
"He's here," Diego muttered.
"That's a good thing."
"If he's willing to see me."
"Do you care if he's willing?" she challenged.
"No. We're not leaving until I speak to him."
"That's what I thought," she said, giving him a smile.
The door opened, and the woman stepped out of the office, motioning them inside.
Hector Pilacio was a short, squat, balding man in his late fifties, early sixties. He stood up as they entered. "Buenos dias."
"Senor Pilacio. Habla Ingles?" Diego asked.
"Yes. How can I help you?"
"My name is Diego Rivera. This is Tara Powell."
"Hola," she said, as Hector gave her a nod.
"I'm hoping you might answer a few questions about your former partner, Tomas Salazar," Diego continued.
Hector's warm, welcoming gaze instantly clouded. "Tomas died many years ago."
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