She was seated in the glassed-in patio. It was still too cool to sit on the terrace overlooking the Lake.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” the hostess asked.
“I’ll have an iced tea, please.”
She thought about what they had to talk about. Things had been quiet since the Brody case. That was a real mind bender, but nothing hot since then. A couple of divorce cases, an extraction of a battered wife and her kids.
All quiet on the Western Front.
“Hey, Cat.” Chris walked up to her table.
She could never get over how good looking he was. Tall and thin with a blond pony tail, his blue eyes said “come to me.”
She rose and gave Chris a hug. It felt good. She liked men that were taller than her.
Is that part of my attraction to Harvey?
“What’s going on these days?” Chris asked as he sat.
“Not much. Things are pretty quiet.” She picked up her menu.
They were silent for a few minutes as they perused the menus.
“Ready to order?” the perky twenty-something server asked, as she placed Catrina’s iced tea on the table.
“Sure,” Catrina said. “I’ll have a bowl of the Whiskey Dungeness Crab Soup.”
“I’ll just have a smoked salmon Caesar Salad,” Chris said.
Before Catrina had a chance to begin the conversation, Chris opened up.
“I gotta tell you, Cat, things are really getting weird around HB&J.”
Catrina squeezed lemon and added a package of Splenda to her tea.. “How so?”
“It’s the new managing partner, Harvey Bernstein. Do you know him?”
Catrina swallowed. “I’ve met him.” She took a sip of her tea to clear her throat.
“Well, he’s a real bastard. He’s changing everything since Dad died.” Chris turned to a passing hostess. “Can we get water, please?”
“How so?” Catrina’s feminine intuition made her stomach churn.
“He’s cut Candace and me off. He won’t talk to us. He ignores us at meetings. He’s a lot more stuffed shirt than Dad was.”
“I take it that’s a bad thing.”
“You bet. He turned down a class action lawsuit that Candace discovered. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people are being hurt by this surgical robot and he won’t let her press the case.”
The server brought two glasses of water.
“He turned me down on representing Ted’s little brother. It’s an easy case, a no-lose proposition, and he won’t touch it. He says Carlito is not our kind of client.”
“What is your kind of client?”
“Rich, white people. I hate to say this, but he’s a racist. He wants me to drop my friendship with Ted, to dump Hope.”
No, that’s not the Harvey I know.
“The bottom line is that he wants Candace and me to leave the firm. This is Dad’s firm. He built it from scratch.”
“Oh.” Catrina didn’t know what to say. She knew that HB&J was part of Chris’s identity. It must be devastating.
“I’m thinking about starting my own firm. That’s why I wanted to talk to you today. I’m doing this with all my clients. Would you be willing to come with me?”
The server brought their lunches. “Would you like something to drink, sir?” she asked Chris.
“Yeah. How about a Henry’s?” He turned back to Catrina.
“The main emphasis of my practice would be criminal law, that’s my passion, but we’d also deal with the kind of issues you bring to me. Divorces, law suits, battered wives.”
“What do your other clients say?”
Chris shoveled a forkful of lettuce in his mouth. “I don’t know yet. You’re the first one I’ve talked to about this. I haven’t even told Ted yet.”
“This chowder is amazing.” Catrina put down her spoon and reached for a piece of bread. “You know how hard it is to run your own business? You don’t have anyone to help you out, no one has your back. You’re in charge of everything, marketing, human resources, payroll, public relations, everything. You can’t afford to hire anyone to take care of those for you.”
“You managed to do it.”
Catrina smiled at her handsome young friend. “I had a little help. The fact that the City of Seattle so generously wrote me a check for three million dollars helped.”
“That’s the good part. Harvey is offering us a buy out on Dad’s partnership. He’ll toss in an extra five-million dollars as a bonus if Candace and I leave. We’d get fifteen million dollars.”
“What does Candace think of all this? Sarah? That’s a nice start-up fund. But keep in mind, you’d only get a third of it.”
“That’s the best part. Candace would come with me, Sarah would be a silent partner. I won’t have a fancy office with lots of employees. We’ll start small. Chase a few ambulances.”
They finished their lunches and Chris picked up the bill.
Good thing, I couldn’t afford this kind of lunch. Fifteen dollars for a bowl of soup, sheesh.
She waited for the valet to bring her car.
“Miss, I have your car . . .” the valet said.
Catrina was startled out of her reverie.
“Thank you.” She handed the valet a five dollar bill.
As she drove back to the SODO district, her mind was on fire.
Who was Harvey Bernstein? Was he two different people? The Harvey that Catrina knew was a warm, soft hearted soul. He was gentle and attentive.
The Harvey Chris described was a soulless monster. Will the real Harvey Bernstein please stand up?
She thought about Chris’s Harvey. It’s all a matter of perspective. Maybe Chris was so rattled by the loss of his father that he was seeing Harvey through a dark filter? Of course, Harvey would need to put himself at some distance from Candace and Chris. He was the boss now. He couldn’t show favoritism.
But Harvey a racist? She just didn’t buy it. Harvey was the kindest, gentlest man. Look at his staff, it was as diverse as any she’d seen.
He was a good businessman, plain and simple. She could see his success from his toys, the car, the house, the yacht. Maybe he saw some legitimate business reason for the decisions he made about Candace and Chris’s cases.
Maybe Chris just had a little growing up to do. That’s it! Harvey was showing him tough love, hardening him to face the business world.
She couldn’t accept anything negative about Harvey. That wasn’t the Harvey she knew. She thought that they had a chance for something here. She was giddy as a school girl. Every time the phone rang, she hoped it was Harvey. She thought about him when she went to bed at night. His firm body, how he felt in her.
She hadn’t felt this way about a man since she started dating her ex.
And look how that turned out . . .
Chapter 24
El Pozolero watched the tigre pace back and forth beneath his balcony. The beast had an acute sense of time. It knew dinner was near.
The tiger stopped and sniffed at the air every so often. It was looking for the scent of its prey. Sure enough, the door to its enclosure opened and a man in white peasant shirt and pants stumbled into the pen.
“Noooooo!” the man yelled.
The tiger paid no heed to the man’s words. It silently moved through the trees and bushes on the hunt.
“El Pozolero, mi jefe, no. I am loyal. I am a good worker for you. I didn’t tell the policia about that shipment. It was somebody else.”
Usually, El Pozolero liked to boil his enemies alive. It taught a good lesson to those who thought they might cross him. Today, however, he felt more creative. He loved to watch the big cat on the hunt.
A loud roar shook the compound. The man turned in fear to see the huge cat leaping at him. He raised his hands to ward off the attack, but five hundred pounds of feline was too much for him.
It was over quickly. The force of the cat’s attack broke his spine and a hip joint. The cat snapped its fangs down into his neck, finishi
ng the job.
“Buen provenche, señor tigre,” the drug lord whispered.
“Jefe, the informer has been taken care of.” Raul stepped out onto the balcony from the house.
“I can see that. It is most inspiring to watch the tiger hunt.”
“I have other news . . .”
El Pozolero turned to him. “Sí, what do you have for me?”
“The attack on Maria Gonzales failed.”
“WHAT?” The jefe’s face turned red. “How can you not catch a girl? Catch her or kill her is what I said.”
Raul bowed his head slightly. “She had help, Patron. A man, a gringo, was with her. He led her out of our trap.”
“Fools! All fools. You had what? Eight men? You had an ambush. They couldn’t have known we were coming for them. Where were her bodyguards?”
“”They weren’t there. She didn’t have any.”
“She didn’t have any?” El Pozolero screamed. “She had no bodyguards, she only had a gringo to help her.” He spat the word gringo like it was a curse word. “And yet, you let her go?”
“It wasn’t like that, jefe. My cousin was in charge. He was killed in the first exchange of gunfire.”
“The first exchange of gunfire? What was this, a shoot-out?” El Pozolero stomped back into the house and poured himself a tequila. He didn’t offer Raul any. “A girl and a gringo out shot eight men with cuernos de chiva? What kind of little girls are you hiring?”
“They were policia. My cousin, Tomás, picked his best men.”
“Well, it’s done. We can’t change it now. Now they will be ready for us.”
“They were already ready for us, patrón. The man had a shotgun. He killed Tomás and wounded the driver in the first exchange. Then both the man and the girl had hand guns.”
“The girl is the key. She is what’s holding Ricky’s organization together. We must get her, but how?” Calming down somewhat, El Pozolero lowered himself into a chair.
Raul sat opposite him, his knees still shaking. It would not be the first time that El Pozolero killed the messenger.
“We can’t attack them at the rancho. Ricky has over five hundred employees living on the ranch. You can bet that all of them will be armed. Besides, the security is so tight there that you would have to attack in overwhelming force. It would take an infantry battalion to capture the place.”
El Pozolero chewed on that for a moment.
“How about an infantry battalion? We pay Coronel Arroyo millions of pesos for protection. Can he not mount the raid for us?”
Raul was losing his fear now. “No, mi patron, he would have to take it up his chain of command. General Lazaro would never sanction the raid.”
“Lazaro! That baboso is getting to be a pain in my ass. Sooner or later we are going to have to deal with him, too.”
Raul got up and walked to the bar. “One fight at a time, mi capitan. Let us take care of the girl first.” He poured himself a drink. He had acquired the Yankee habit of putting ice in his drinks.
“Okay, Raul. Let us think about this.” El Pozolero held his glass out to his subordinate. “We have Ricky and they will not budge. How will they feel if we have his lovely daughter?”
“We know that Señora Gonzales would cave in if we had the girl. Maria’s the one who’s holding this whole thing together. The question is how to get her.” He took his chief’s glass and refilled it with tequila.
“That may be easier than you think.” El Pozolero knocked back his shot of tequila. “Ahhh . . . We make a show of our power. That will draw the girl to us. She cannot stand seeing her people hurt. That is her weakness.”
For the first time that day, Raul smiled. “Sí, we make a show of power. We take out some of their captains, give some of his shipments to the DEA. She will have to come after us, then we’ll have her.”
****
Maria sat on the edge of the bed, watching Ted try on the suit he just bought. “That suit is just right for you.” She got up and ran her hands over his shoulders. “It emphasizes the shoulders and, mmm, look at those hips.” She swatted his backside. “You look like you’re ready to spend a night in the casinos in Monaco.”
Ted looked in the mirror.
“I still think you’re out of your mind.” Maria straightened his tie. “You know that El Pozolero’s men will be there. You’re walking into a trap.”
“Maria, I have to go. I can’t believe I killed that policeman. He’s a policeman for God’s sake.”
Maria sat back on the bed. “Yes, he is, but he also worked for one of the most evil men on the planet and he would have killed you, and me, if he had the chance. Jesus, Ted, he was paid to kill us.”
Popo accented her comment with a single bark.
Ted had been in a despondent mood since he saw the story on the news that morning. Apparently two narcos, presumably from the Sinaloa Cartel, had a shoot-out with police yesterday afternoon. The narcos killed Lieutenant Echavaría and wounded Corporal Peña. The corporal was in critical condition at Hospital Generalaria Juan María de Salva Tierra. He had a twenty-four-hour police guard in his room. Police Comandante Infante personally promised to find the two fugitives and bring them to justice.
Everyone knew that criminals who shot police were never captured alive.
Did they know who did it? They must. The cops specifically ambushed them. They knew who they were paid to kill. Did that mean that they would be coming after them at the condo or the ranch? With the security and arsenal at the ranch, would they dare?
“I know, but he was a police officer. He had a family. I can’t stop feeling guilty.”
“Get used to it, lover. In our business we do what’s necessary. There’s no room for guilt.”
Ted tore off his tie and threw it on the bed. “But I’m not in your business, as you so coldly pointed out. I could never be part of a business like this; I could never live in a country where law and order are for sale to the highest bidder.” He collapsed onto the bed and held his head in his hands.
Maria put her arms around his shoulders. Popo whelped.
“Can you honestly say that justice isn’t for sale in America? Look at the OJ trial.” She kissed him on the forehead. “Time will help.”
Ted shook his head, like he was awaking from a bad dream. “I’m going, Maria, do you want to come with me?”
Maria looked into his eyes. “I’ll go. I can’t let you wander around this city by yourself. Someone has to keep you out of trouble. You’re number two on El Pozolero’s hit list.”
Maria got up and went to the closet to pick out an appropriately somber mourning outfit.
It took an hour to get to the cemeterio in El Triunfo, the small down the coastline where Lieutenant Echevaría’s family lived. What was only a thirty-mile drive became a marathon when a bus broke down on a curve in the mountain road.
They took Ted’s rented Jeep. The Thing was out of commission. Maria called her mother and asked to send someone to pick it up and tow it back to the ranch.
There was hardly a word spoken on the drive to the cemetery. Ted gazed down the road like a zombie. Maria stared out the passenger side window.
They reached the little town and followed the sign to the cemetery. It was up a curving dirt road into the mountains. Like many places in Mexico, they didn’t waste tillable soil on gravesites. The rocky fenced area with dead, brown grass, was covered in little mausoleums. The Echavaría family had their own.
A large crowd gathered in front of the mausoleum. A large Mexican flag fluttered in the breeze. Mexicans really loved their flags. A police honor guard lined the path from the parking lot to the little building.
Sitting in chairs in front of the mausoleum were a woman dressed all in black, a boy and a girl. They couldn’t have been more than nine or ten. Now they had to grow up without a father.
“What’s going to happen to them now?” Ted asked as they walked up the path.
“El Pozolero always takes care of the families of his f
allen soldiers. He’ll give them an allowance and arrange a job for her. They’ll get by.” Her voice cracked and tears moistened her eyes.
What happened to my moral compass? Ted thought. Papa taught me right from wrong, now here I am in a relationship with the daughter of a drug lord. Am I still in a relationship with her?
Ted had been in love before. Gina was the separated Italian-American he fell for during the Millennium Systems case all those years ago. He would have married her on the spot, but she returned to her husband. For the children, she said. She gave up love for her duties as a mother
His love for Gina had never been like this. He burned with it. When Maria wasn’t with him, she was all he could think about. When she was with him, he wanted to consume her, make her part of his body.
His cell phone rang.
Ted stepped away from the crowd of mourners and answered it. “Ted Higuera.”
“Ted, amigo, this is Rudolfo.”
“Rudi, what’s up?”
The sun’s heat beat down on Ted’s black suit.
“I’ve been doing a little research on my story. We should meet.”
They made arrangements for the meeting and Ted fell back into his misery.
How far am I willing to go to protect Maria?
He had already killed a man. Perhaps it could be justified, but he HAD killed him.
Maria’s family was evil. They were involved in an evil business, one that was crippling America. How could he protect them?
But Maria was right. Family is family. He wanted desperately to make her part of his family. If he succeeded, her family would be his family. With all that Papa taught him, how could he accept them as relatives?
He looked up into the brown mountains. A clear blue sky formed a dome over the world. He turned to look out on the Sea.
But family is family. I’ll do anything to protect Maria, even if it means protecting her drug dealing family.
Chapter 25
It had been a long, hard day for Chris. He started out with Carlito’s arraignment. The ADA, Rico Petrocelli, wore him out with his inane motions and courtroom tactics, none of which had the standing of the law behind them. Chris thought that Petrocelli watched too much Law & Order.
The Cartel Strikes Back: The Ted Higuera Series, Book 5 Page 16