Ted’s heart fluttered.
“Ted, dear lovely Ted, my life has changed. I can’t live for myself anymore. I have responsibilities.”
“But . . . “
“Let me finish.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I am the head of the family now. I have to stay and run the business. For the good of everyone.”
Ted took both of her hands in his. “Maria, I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before. I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you. I’ll move down here. I’ll help you with the business.”
She shook her head and pulled her hands away. “No, Ted. You can’t. You’re too good of a person. This would kill you. It would destroy the Ted I love.”
Ted nodded. He knew she was right. He could never be involved in her business.
“Maria, you’re better than this. Are you going to throw away your education, your interests, your morals, your love to ride herd on a bunch of narcos?”
Maria stood and turned her back on him. “It’s my family. I can’t abandon them. You know what family means.”
Ted jumped up and put arms around her. “But you’re my family. Can’t we reconcile this somehow? Can’t you find someone else to run the business? Martín seems really sharp.”
She turned to him. Her eyes were red and swollen. “I’m sorry, Ted. I can’t marry you. Go, now! Let’s make the break clean and fast. It will hurt less in the long run.” She took a deep breath and shook the tears from her face. “I want you to go, now. Leave this minute. Fly home and never think about me again.”
She turned and walked away.
Ted stared at her back, moisture in his eyes.
****
Martin washed the long black stretch limo himself. Ricky almost never used the Lincoln. He thought it was an ostentatious show of wealth in a town where the average worker earned pennies.
Martin had great respect for these Anglos who came to La Paz to save the señorita. It was sad to see them go, but he wanted them to go in style.
Wearing new jeans, a clean cowboy shirt and a white Stetson, he supervised loading the luggage in the trunk of the car. He was a natural leader.
The three Americans said their goodbyes to Theresa, Maria failed to show up. They climbed in the car and Martin headed for the airport.
The two-hour drive to the airport went fast. Martin reveled in the good spirit of the people in the back of the limo even though he couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Why did gringos always have to talk so fast?
He could understand a little English if they spoke slowly, but they always ran their words together.
The sun was setting as he pulled into the driveway to the airport. He ignored the signs and pulled the Lincoln into the bus terminal to keep his passengers from having to walk from the parking lot.
He looked at his watch and looked in the rearview mirror to check on his guests. He noticed a similar Lincoln stretch limousine pulling into the terminal behind him. The other Lincoln stopped in the roadway in front of the airport doors.
Before he had a chance to think, an explosion ripped through the other limo. Automatic gun fire filled the air.
“Get out! NOW!” he shouted to his passengers.
He pulled a big black automatic from his waistband and opened the passenger door opposite the gunfire.
“Get into the terminal,” he commanded. “Run!”
The tall gringa and her two friends ran for the doorway.
Police flooded the parking area from every direction. Gunfire filled the air.
It was all over in a minute. The firing stopped and the charred black limousine sat and smoked.
Chapter 44
The flight home was both long and short. What the hell was that all about at the airport? Now that they were safely cruising along at thirty thousand feet, Ted could stop and think.
He pulled the tablet from his backpack. When it came on, he went to his newsfeeds.
“Cardinal of Mexico City assassinated,” shouted the headline.
“Holy shit!”
“What’s up?” Chris asked.
“That gunfight at the airport. That was the cardinal of Mexico City. They killed him.”
“What?” Catrina asked. “Who would want to kill a religious leader?”
“I’m not so sure anybody did,” Ted put the tablet down in his lap. “Did you notice that his limo was identical to ours? Maybe the Baja Cartel was waiting for us. Maybe they thought he was us.”
“Wheeeew,” Chris wheezed. “Martin didn’t drop us off in the drop off area. He pulled into the bus area instead.”
“What if they were waiting for a black Lincoln limo?” Catrina asked. “When they saw two of them, they probably concluded that the one in the drop off area must be us.”
“I am so sick of this shit.” Ted spat out the words. “First Maria, now this. Is the whole world insane?”
A long silence passed between the three.
Ted’s mind turned over the events of the last few days again and again. What could he have done differently?
Catrina’s beloved batmobile was destroyed. How was she going to explain that to her insurance company?
Chris’s wound wasn’t bothering him at all. Catrina seemed to be back to her normal self, but she was still missing whole chunks from her memory. Ted and Chris spent hours explaining how she had spent those days, but she couldn’t remember.
They’d heard from Mama. Hope was doing well in the hospital. She hoped Hope would be able to come home in a few days. Carlito was despondent. He went to school every day, then came home and locked himself in his room. Some days, he didn’t even come out for dinner. He was losing weight and looked like a concentration camp survivor.
Ted had the window seat. With Chris’s long legs, he always took the aisle. He forced Catrina into the middle seat because he felt better if she had someone on either side of her.
They flew over desolate desert, then crossed the coast and were over the blue Pacific. It looked so peaceful down there. How could those people below him have any problems?
“What difference did we make?” he finally said.
“What do you mean?” Chris asked.
Ted wiped at his eyes. “We went down there. A lot of people got killed. We all got hurt. What did we do? How did we make things any better?”
Catrina put her hand on Ted’s. “We couldn’t save her dad, but at least we saved Maria.”
Ted turned to the window. “Saved her from what? To do what? Now she’s stuck down there in the middle of these damned drug wars. How long will she last? No one walks away from the cartels.”
Catrina took Ted’s chin in her hands and turned his face to her. “Ted, you’ve got to put it behind you. I know it hurts. It always hurts when you lose a love, but it gets better with the passage of time. One day, maybe not so far away, you’ll go to bed one night and realize you didn’t think about her once that day.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“No it isn’t. I’ve been there. I loved Bill with all of my heart. I expected to spend the rest of my life with him. Then he turned on me. He became a wild animal. You couldn’t believe how hard it was to walk away, to take Billy and run, even after all the things he did to me, I still loved him.”
“He’s one mean son of a bitch.”
“Bud,” Chris said. “Look at it this way, at least we rid the world of one more sleazy son-of-a-bitch. Sometimes, people just need killin’,” he said in his corniest Texas accent. “At least Rudi got his story, pictures and all. I’ll bet you that sly bastard wrangles another Pulitzer out of this.”
Catrina laughed. “You read too many pulp mystery novels.”
“So,” Ted said, “I come back to my original thought. What difference did we make?” he stared straight ahead, looking into eternity. “Sure, El Pozolero is gone, but someone else will step in and take his place. Mexico never changes.”
Ted turned to his friends. “There will be violence as the other cartels
pick over the bones of the Baja Cartel.”
“What do you think will happen to Maria?” Chris asked.
Catrina gave him a fierce glare.
“The new drug lord, whoever takes over the cartel, may not be as kind to her as El Pozolero was.” Ted looked down at his feet. “He let her dad do business without interference because they were friends. The new guy won’t be so kind.”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone call that bastard kind,” Chris said.
Ted continued. “You can be sure he won’t let her business exist alongside his. They’ll go to war. Things will not end well for her.”
The three sat silent for a minute, processing what Ted just said.
“God,” Ted whispered. “I want to help her, to get her out of that mess, but she won’t let me. She won’t even help herself.” He let out a deep breath. “Dear God, she’s signed her own death warrant.”
****
Capitan Mendez called before he made the drive out to the ranch. Maria was well prepared when she spied the police truck with six SWAT members in the back, pull into the compound.
She watched as Martín walked up to the driver’s window. They exchanged words for a minute, then Martín pointed towards the long drive climbing up the hill to the main house.
The maid opened the door and let the Capítan in. She led him to the patio overlooking the Sea.
“Buenos dias, mi capítan,” Maria said, rising from her wicker-backed chair. “Please, join me out here. It is so pleasant. Could I offer you some refreshment?” Popo slept silently at her feet, his shoulder wrapped in a large bandage.
“No thank you, señorita. This is a business call.” He looked suspiciously at the Great Dane. Most Mexican men were fearful of so large a dog.
Maria nodded to the maid and she slipped away.
“Don’t worry about him,” she said. “He’s a cream puff. Now, what may I help you with?”
“I have many questions. I need to know about how the Comandante was killed. How your Americano friends weren’t hurt.” Mendez reached inside his jacket and produced a leather notebook.
“I can’t tell you anything about that, Capítan, I wasn’t there. I need to correct you, though. My dear friend Esperanza was shot, badly. They barely saved her life. Thank God she is now home recovering.”
“And the other one? The Señora Flattery? How did she not get shot?”
Maria stretched her long legs out on a foot stool. “First of all, it’s Flaherty. Secondly, surely you have examined her car. You know it was armored. I was told that she hid behind a car door. It saved her life.”
The captain slid forward and wrote in his notebook. “That is another question that interests me. Why did she have such a potent vehicle? Why did she need such a car? Did she come down here looking for trouble? We found shell casings from a gun that wasn’t police issue. Was she armed?”
“I don’t know,” Maria lied. “I wasn’t there.”
“It is a very serious offense to possess unlicensed firearms. Where is the señora now?”
“I really can’t tell you. They left yesterday. They didn’t say where they were going.”
She could see the captain’s anger rising. She had to play it cool. She knew in Mexico, they used the Napoleonic Code. You were guilty until proven innocent.
Mendez gulped a deep breath and brought himself back into control. “Let’s talk about something else, shall we? I want to know about the raid on El Pozolero’s villa in Ensenada de los Muertos. What can you tell me?”
“Once again, I can’t tell you anything. I wasn’t there.’
Mendez smiled. “Oh, but you were, señorita. My men found your fingerprints, your hairs.”
“Santiago was a family friend. I have been to his house, on his boats, numerous times. I would be surprised if you didn’t find my fingerprints.”
“Hmmm . . . This is very serious business. La Paz is just that, the City of Peace. We can’t have these drug cartels fighting their wars on our turf. It used to be so peaceful, what has happened?”
Maria let out a sigh and proceeded like she was talking to a child. “When my father was alive, when Santiago was in charge, there was no need for these cartels to fight. We all lived in La Paz in harmony, but the police, the government, stirred things up. They started a war. Now it is up to us, who are left, to return La Paz to its former glory.”
The captain picked up on her hint. “I see . . . and just how do you propose that we do that?”
Maria turned, put her feet on the floor and faced the captain. She looked him straight in the eye. “My father had an understanding with Comandante Infante. They worked together to ensure the peace. The Comandante also had an agreement with Santiago, I think. As you know the peace of our city all starts and ends with the police.”
Mendez put down his pen and notebook. “And you are suggesting?”
“Nothing really. I mean, if we could reach a similar accord, it would go a long way towards smoothing things over. I mean, what do you have to hold against me? The drive by at the police station, the raid on Santiago’s house, I’m sure they were the work of the Sinaloa Cartel. They have been at war with Santiago for years. They probably thought that the time was right to take over.”
Mendez smiled. “Maybe it is time to have that refreshment after all. We need to discuss details.”
“Why don’t you stay for lunch? Our cook is preparing tortas today. You can meet my mother; we can find an amicable solution to your problem.”
****
Chris tried to keep up with Candace who danced down the street like a girl on her way to meet Santa Claus.
“We’re in the Smith Tower,” she said to Chris. “I’ve arranged for parking in the lot just west of here.”
“I’ve got to say, I’m really impressed with the progress you’ve made.”
Chris looked up at the top of the tower above him. It was more of a spire than a tower really. Being a life-long resident of Seattle, he knew the history of what was once the tallest building on the West Coast.
Candace practically dragged him through the doorway into the lobby. Brass caged elevators reminded Chris of an earlier era. Built over a hundred years ago, the Smith Tower was the last building in Seattle with elevator operators.
“I haven’t been here in decades,” Chris said. “They’ve really upgraded this place.”
“I just love the funkiness of it,” Candace said, as she grabbed Chris’s hand and led him to the bank of elevators.
“Twenty-fifth floor please,” Candace said to the ancient elevator operator.
He must have been there since the building was built.
The operator closed the elevator door by spinning a brass wheel. The elevator car started up with a jerk. Chris thought that with all the creaks and groans, the poor old car would fall to the floor at any minute.
“Twenty-fifth floor,” the operator said, and opened the door.
Chris followed Candace into a tastefully-decorated hallway with charcoal gray walls and large framed photographs of Seattle in the 1920’s.
Candace danced down the hallway and round the corner. “Home, sweet home,” she said as she turned the key in the old brass door knob.
“Wow! Nice digs.” Chris entered the office and looked around.
The walls were virginal white with gray trim. A bank of windows looked south towards the Clink, as locals called Century Link Field, where the Seahawks played and Safeco Park, home of the Mariners.
In front of him was a glass-walled conference room with a large white table and a dozen matching office chairs. Windows in the conference room looked out over the south end of Elliot Bay.
“Nice,” Chris said as he ran his hand over the polished mahogany reception desk. Behind the desk was a huge picture of Harry’s boat, the Defiant, beating to windward in some race. On the counter in front of the picture was a large bouquet of flowers.
Chris reached for the card. It said, “Good luck, big bro. Dad would be pr
oud of you.”
A tear built up in his eye. “Can we always have a bunch of flowers here? For Dad.”
Candace nodded, grabbed his hand again and pulled him to the corner office. “Here’s your office.”
The large office had an oak table and four matching chairs, a huge oak desk and the requisite lawyer’s bookcases. The side table to Chris’s right had a coffee station with a Keurig machine.
Chris walked around, looking at the white walls with gray trim. “I guess this is where I hang my degrees,” he said pointing to the open space on his right.
“It’s a big wall. You’re going to fill it with important stuff, Chris.” Candace broke into a grin.
Chris was always amazed how her emerald-green eyes could twinkle when she was happy.
“How about you, where’s your office?” Chris asked.
“Other end of the hallway.” Candace did an about face and led Chris out of the office.
Her office was similar to Chris’s. A large portrait of Harry hung on her bragging wall.
“Well, what do you think? Is Hardwick & Hardwick going to make it here?”
Chris’s mind spun. How far he had come. When he graduated from the UW, the last thing in the world he wanted was to follow in his father’s footsteps.
The incident on the Inside Passage changed his mind. He knew he was spared for a reason. He needed to give back, to help people who didn’t have a voice of their own. What better way than to protect them in a court of law.
And now here he was, partner in his own law firm. They were well financed, but that could turn in an instant. He and Candace had to be very careful, to take as many paying cases as they could so he could do the work they yearned for.
“We’re going to do just fine.” He grabbed Candace in a big hug.
“Your first client will be in to see you early tomorrow morning,” Candace said.
“My first client?”
“Yes, Carlito Higuera.”
Chapter 45
Tony Rodriquez, El Pozolero’s oldest son, basked in the sunshine. His current girl friend, Alma, sat in the back of the boat with him, a large floppy hat covering her movie star face. Tony could pretty much get any girl he wanted. With his looks, money and power, no woman could resist him.
The Cartel Strikes Back: The Ted Higuera Series, Book 5 Page 28