by L. A. Fiore
I pulled my focus from the painting and turned it on Granddad. “Why do you ask?”
“I think I’d like to make sure of that. You don’t really know much about him. Give this old man a little ease and let me look into him.”
I loved that he cared. “His name is Kace.”
“That’s all you have?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s from New York based on his accent.”
“I can do something with that. Kace is an unusual name.”
“Please don’t tell me what you learn. I would like to remember him as I knew him.”
“Fair enough.”
The view looking up at the town perched on the cliff of volcanic rock was exquisite. I was north of Barcelona, at Castellfollit de la Roca. The last of Isabella’s family lived in this small town that had settled precariously close to the 160-foot drop. The narrow street that ran through the town was charming. Their home was a single floor in one of the buildings that stretched along the cliff toward the town center. The door opened on a little boy fidgeting in his white shirt, his hair was still wet from a shower. Behind him a woman appeared, a little older than me. She was exquisite, long dark hair, almond-shaped eyes. She smiled.
“I’m Camilla and this is my son, Javier. Please come in.” I wished I could speak Spanish as well as she did English.
“I’m Willow. Thank you for opening your home to me.”
“Luciana is very excited to talk to you. She’s the family historian. Alejandro and Isabella are her favorite topic.”
I followed her through the house. The rugs were threadbare and the furniture was secondhand, but there was warmth and love bouncing off the walls. We reached the kitchen, the hub of the house, and sitting at the table was Luciana—Isabella’s descendant. A lump formed in my throat as my heart rate sped up. Camilla offered me a chair and as I sat, I took Luciana’s hand into mine.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
Luciana spoke in Spanish. Camilla translated, “She’s honored you made such a long journey.”
“I don’t know the whole story of Alejandro and Isabella, but what I do know touches my romantic heart.”
Camilla joined us at the table. “Then we should tell you the rest of it.”
Three hours later my heart ached and my eyes burned from tears. It was getting late and Luciana offered me the only bedroom she had. I was humbled by the gesture, but I couldn’t take her bed.
“I’ve booked a room in a hotel in Barcelona. But thank you for today, for sharing with me so much about your family.”
Luciana spoke from her spot at the table. Camilla translated, “She hopes you learned what you came for.”
“I did. I would like to tell their story; that is my hope. In the journal Alejandro mentioned someone named Felix. Do you know who that is?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“And there’s a reference to a necklace that Alejandro was having made for Isabella. Do you know if she ever received such a necklace?”
Camilla translated before replying, “Not to her knowledge.”
“I want to find that necklace. To share with the world their tragically short love story. I must stress though, it will take time piecing his life and death together. Years, if we are able to do it at all.”
Camilla shared with Luciana who then asked, “But you want to try?”
“I’m a Blakeley. It’s what we do, hunt for lost treasures.”
“Maybe one day we’ll get to see it, the symbol of their love,” Camilla said.
“One day, I hope to be able to give that to you.”
I stood on the balcony of the hotel and looked out at Barcelona at night, but my thoughts were on the story that had been shared with me. Isabella had been the daughter of a very well to do family. Her father, an industrial capitalist, worked in iron and steel. An arranged marriage was planned to solidify a business relationship. One day, while walking the port in Valencia she saw Alejandro, a young gentleman who was building his own fleet of ships. It was love at first sight. Alejandro wasted no time whisking her away and marrying her. He bought her a house, anything her heart desired. What she desired most was him, but his business was a young one so he spent weeks at a time away from her, traveling to the New World and making a name for himself. On one of his trips home from the New World he never made it. She waited and waited, but when weeks turned into months she knew he was gone. Without her husband to care for her, she had to return home. Her father brushed it all under the rug. He married her off to the man he had intended for her. Her life with Alejandro was never discussed again. However, she kept journals, most were lost in a fire centuries later, but Luciana had pages from one. Isabella was older, her children grown, but her heart was written on those pages. And Alejandro was the man she wrote of. I couldn’t help but think of Kace. I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight, but there had been an undeniable pull for him. What story would we have written had circumstances been different? I would find Isabella. I would tell their story, be their voice, share with the world their brief but touching love story. But how did I get started? I reached for my phone and called the one person I knew would know.
“Hey Harry. It’s Willow. I’ve got a remarkable story to tell you.”
WILLOW
2011
It was late, but I was finalizing the projected cost for the new exhibit Mr. Tuttleman was organizing. Fabergé eggs. He wanted lots of adornments in the exhibit designs. Personally, I didn’t think we needed that because the eggs were so beautiful you wouldn’t want the display competing with them. But this was Mr. Tuttleman’s baby, so I just did as he asked.
I was the assistant curator at Granddad’s museum. I spent any free time I had, which wasn’t a lot working a full time job, researching Isabella. I still wanted to dive, it was still the dream, but sometimes our dreams were put on the back burner while real life interrupted.
Harry was a wealth of knowledge and had given me some great places to start and advice on which pieces of Alejandro’s story I should focus on first. Mr. Tuttleman was as invested as me, sifting through the story looking for the clues. It was like working a puzzle, but luckily for us we loved puzzles. He had been right though about the difficulty of finding the information we sought. We had the questions, finding the answers was proving very hard because it required finding hard copy records that dated back to Alejandro’s day, records buried under dust in remote offices in Spain. A needle in a haystack would definitely be easier to find.
My cell rang. “Willow, it’s Decker Acker.”
It took me a second to place the name. I hadn’t seen him since the summer of my first ocean dive. “Decker, what a pleasant surprise. Hi.”
“Harry gave me your number. I hope it’s okay to just call.”
“Absolutely. How are you?”
“I’m good. Really good. Harry’s retired and I’ve taken over his team.”
Harry had mentioned he’d retired, but I didn’t know that Decker had taken over. “That’s wonderful. How exciting.”
“It’s pretty great. We moved operations and are now based out of St. Croix.”
I settled back in my chair. “That is quite the move. Are you closer to family in St. Croix?”
Silence for a second before he said, “No. My parents aren’t in the picture.”
It was then I remembered him sharing how rough life had been prior to Harry, and how I had wondered about his parents. “I’m sorry. I forgot you had mentioned life had been difficult before Harry entered the picture.”
“Don’t be. I got Harry.”
My heart warmed knowing that Harry didn’t just give Decker a job, he gave him a family. “I’m so happy you found each other.”
“Me too.”
“So, what’s the coolest wreck you’ve salvaged?”
“A submarine.”
“No way.”
“Yeah, it was pretty awesome. That’s why I’m calling. We’re a team of ten, but we recently lost a member so there�
�s an opening. The job would be part-time and I need to stress that because most dives don’t require ten divers. But I figured a permanent part-time gig was better than no gig. Would you be interested?”
It was a good thing I was sitting down. “Are you kidding?”
He laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“It is, but I need to talk with my grandfather.”
“I understand.”
“I can reach you at this number?”
“Absolutely. Bonus, Willow, you’ll get to live in paradise.”
“I’d take the job if it had me living in a box by the river. Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
“I’ve been there. Someone offered me the branch, so I’m paying it forward. Talk to your grandfather and then we can discuss logistics. I can help you with securing a place to live.”
“I can’t wait.”
“See you soon. Oh and Willow?”
“Yes.”
“Wait until you see how clear the water is.”
I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Grandfather since Decker’s call. Times were always crazy when a new exhibit was underway. I stayed late so we could talk. He found me before I could find him when I heard the familiar sound of his cane on the tile floor.
He appeared in my doorway. “I could sleep for a year,” he said as he settled in a chair opposite my desk. “You wanted to talk?”
“Decker called earlier. He took over Harry’s crew. He offered me a job.”
“That’s incredible.”
“Yes, but it would require me moving across the country because they are now in St. Croix.”
“It’s only a plane ride away and this is what you want, what you’ve been working toward. You’d be a fool not to take it. I didn’t raise a fool.”
“I’m going to miss seeing you every day.”
“We can Skype.”
My eyebrows rose at that. “You would Skype?”
“To see you, absolutely.” He leaned forward. “I won’t lie. I would have preferred you being closer, but when you are given the chance to reach for a dream, it would be foolish to not grab at the opportunity with both hands.”
“I love you. I don’t say it enough.”
“Don’t make me cry.” He wiped at his eyes. “I love you too, Willow.” He stood. “Are you heading home soon?”
“Another hour or so.”
“I’m leaving now so make sure you call for the car.”
“I will. Good night.”
He slowly made his way to the door before looking back at me from over his shoulder. “Congratulations. I’m thrilled for you, but I will miss you.” He walked out of my office. “See you at home.”
I finished my to-do list for the day before shutting down my computer. I quickly looked through the mail to make sure there wasn’t anything pressing. There was a small envelope addressed to me, no return address. It wasn’t unusual for us to receive unsolicited mail, and always curious I ripped open the envelope and flipped it over. A necklace spilled out into my hand. My heart stopped for a second or two then took off in a gallop. It was a skull and crossbones in diamonds. There was a note, but I didn’t need one to know whom it was from.
To replace the one I took.
Kace. How did he find me? I didn’t really care how he had, only that he had. It had been two years. Ours had been a moment, a perfect moment that I still thought about often. This necklace proved that he thought about it too. That felt incredible. My romantic heart squeezed hard in my chest because maybe one day I would see him again. I fastened the necklace around my neck. It felt warm where it touched my skin, a warmth that seeped in and settled around my heart.
KACE
It took two years, but the crew and I made our way back to New York. I thought of her from time to time. I smiled every time I saw an old book, remembering how her eyes had lit with excitement. Knowing she was out there chasing her treasures was enough.
We were in the old neighborhood getting a drink. My attention was on my beer, but I had seen the crew in the back when I scanned the place as we entered. It wasn’t a coincidence we were here. Snake and I had some unfinished business. Drake still lived in the same townhouse, still hung at the same restaurants and clubs. For a man in his line of work that was risky, predictable, which meant he was comfortable and confident. But complacency was dangerous. The only thing he had changed up in the years since we last saw him was his yacht. A sweet ride that he took out every third weekend. The twins dug into the sales receipt and discovered there was a nice big safe on that yacht, likely where Drake kept his money. When not in use, it was docked offshore with a security team living onboard.
We didn’t have a place because we moved around too much, so we were staying at a cheap motel. The whole crew decided what jobs we did. This was a vengeance thing for Snake and me, but if the rest weren’t on board we would pass.
“A drug dealer pimp. Yeah let’s take his ass out.” Flynn had joined our crew last year after we stepped in to even the odds during a fight.
“Dude is cocky. I get it, according to what the twins dug up and what you’ve told us he’s been at it a long time. He’s got to know people are breathing down his neck to take over.” Chas was our newest member. Found himself on the wrong side of a mob. The specifics of which no one spoke of.
“Bonus, we keep the money and the yacht. We won’t have to keep stealing boats,” Snake stated.
“So are we doing this?” Tex asked.
It was unanimous. Payback was a bitch.
Years of being the man at the top had made Drake believe he was untouchable, his reach and reputation a deterrent to those who would seek to dethrone him. We were now a crew of seven and every last one of us had been raised on the streets. Drake had a large security team, but like their leader they had lost their edge after sitting on the top for so long. Like clockwork, his yacht docked in the harbor on the third Saturday of the month. A few hours later it was heading back out to sea. We waited until the evening. Zeke and Flynn secured us a ride. A sleek little number, black hull and a soft-running engine. Even so, we should have been detected before we got close; we weren’t.
Scaling the side, we dropped onto the deck and moved silently, taking out his crew one by one. We weren’t rendering them unconscious because when you went after a man like Drake, you didn’t leave witnesses. We had taken out over half of his crew before they knew we were there. Gunshots echoed across the water, but there was no one close enough to hear. While the crew took out the remaining guards, Zeke, Snake and I went to the man himself. He was in bed. He had two bitches with him and was using their naked bodies as a shield. At first I thought they were there against their will, but one of them lunged with her claws out. Snake tapped her on the jaw and she went down. The second girl scurried off the bed, cowering in the corner.
“What the fuck?” he snarled and yet I saw fear in his eyes.
“Long time no see,” I replied.
Drake’s blank expression was a good indication he hadn’t a clue who we were.
“He doesn’t remember us, Snake.”
“I think I’m offended.”
“Let me refresh your memory. Our friend took some of your drugs. Einstein, remember him?”
A glimmer of recognition.
“You killed him and you beat us, starved us and then sold us to some rich asshole. Do you remember what happened to him? I imagine they found his body eventually. We were only sixteen.”
“That is fucked up. You didn’t mention that.” There was a wild look in Zeke’s eyes when he turned on Drake. “Seriously fucked up.” He pulled his gun and leveled it at Drake’s head.
Maybe it was because we were older and harder, but Drake wasn’t the figure that had haunted my dreams for so long. He seemed small and insignificant.
“It was business. I’m a businessman. We can come to some arrangement.”
And the fact that he could say that and mean it, pimping kids was a business, fucker wa
s going to die. “Like what?” I asked purely out of curiosity.
“I have money. Lots of it.”
“We’re going to take that anyway.” Snake said.
“I’ll give you a cut of my drug sales.”
“Can’t abide drugs or drug dealers.” I retorted.
“What do you want? I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” Zeke asked.
“Anything.”
“Suck me off.”
Drake’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“Well, you pimped my boys here so it seems fair. And I haven’t had a blow job in like two days. Suck me off and swallow. And if I feel teeth, I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
We had come to learn that Zeke had a sinister side to him. He enjoyed taking people to their limits. Some would call it torture, but the man got off on breaking people.
“No.” Drake yelled.
My glare was ice cold. “He’s not asking.” Karma was a bitch.
“Kill me because I won’t do it.” His voice broke on his bluff. He didn’t want to die. Zeke picked up on that too. He moved so fast; grabbed Drake’s hand and broke one of his fingers. The man howled, but damn that looked painful.
“I won’t kill you, but death will seem like a gift when I’m done with you.”
Seven fingers was what it took until Drake caved.
“I’ll help you out since your hands look like they hurt.” Zeke unzipped. “Open up, pretty boy.” He grabbed the back of Drake’s head and rammed his cock down his throat. Drake gagged, Zeke pushed in deeper. “That’s it. Suck harder, bitch.” Zeke fucked his face violently then came on a growl. He stepped back. “I’ve had better.”
Drake looked ill. Snake chuckled. “You eat something you didn’t like?” He lifted his gun.
Drake’s mangled hands rose to cover his face. “You said I could live if I blew him.”
“We never said that. We were killing you either way, but that definitely added to the enjoyment.” Snake squeezed the trigger.
We docked in the Bahamas. Drake’s bitches were left in an inflatable raft; close enough to the shore of Manhattan that someone would find them. We even let them dress...we were such gentlemen. Drake’s yacht was fucking sweet and no one would be looking for it, the women even developed sudden cases of amnesia so we didn’t have to rush to ditch it. The crew scattered as soon as we tied up at the dock. Snake stayed behind. “Zeke is one deranged motherfucker.”