The Devil Be Damned

by Ali Vali

  “When you get there and have to start questioning the locals to get a lay of the land, who do you think will get a better response, you, Simon or Sabana?” Merrick asked. She moved closer and signaled for Remi to bend down. “She’s innocent looking but she’s ready to prove herself. If she’d hold you back I’d still be at home trying to lift weights and doing my best to get out of this chair.”

  “Tell Cain thanks, then, and I’ll call when I get back.”

  “Emma wanted me to give you a message,” Merrick said, giving her as good a smile as she could manage from the trouble she appeared to have moving her lips. Remi took Merrick’s hand and bent down farther. “She said you need to have Dallas back soon since she owes her a breakfast.”

  “Thanks, Merrick.” She patted her hand and returned to the den, turning her head for Sabana to follow her. “We need to get there before he does and find the house,” she told the group that had gathered. Her biggest fear now was that Johnny wouldn’t be able to control himself before he reached what he thought was his safety zone. Not that it would turn her away from Dallas if he did something to her, but she wanted to spare Dallas any more pain. “But we also need to get out of here without our chaperones.”

  “That’s easy,” Ramon said, putting his hand over his phone’s receiver. “I already took care of it, so get ready to move.”

  “I don’t need much,” Remi said, moving quickly to her bedroom and pulling out her guns. As she changed her shirt she looked down at the half of the cobra head tattooed on her right arm. The other side of the deadly snake’s head was tattooed on Mano’s arm and had fueled the rumors of what some on the street called Snake Eyes.

  So many nights Dallas had run her fingers along the design, ending at the eye that was a die in the one position. It was time to strap on that persona again. “Hang on, baby, I’m coming,” she said to the picture on her nightstand. “You know in your heart that I’ll be there, so keep the faith.”

  *

  The bed had become torturous so Cain was sitting in a recliner one of the nurses had brought in. News of what had happened to Dallas had opened more wounds than the beating she’d had. Of all the times she had to be laid up and not able to help Remi. Even if she could crush Hector and Juan with what she was planning, she’d trade it to get Dallas back to Remi and put a smile back on Emma’s face.

  Emma had been so many things to her and had brought so much into her life but, most important, she had infused Cain’s heart with an infinite supply of hopeless romanticism. Because she had found it in her own life, she wanted everyone she cared for to experience it too. Emma had changed Cain’s mind about Merrick and Katlin, and had worked on Cain for weeks about persuading Muriel not to stay with Shelby. She wanted someone who would give Muriel the kind of love she deserved.

  “Cain,” Juno said, making her turn away from the window. Remi’s petite assistant was the only person she’d ever seen make the serious Simon smile. “How are you?”

  “I feel like a useless relic right now, old friend. How’s Remi holding up?”

  “When she was young I always knew that when she gave away her heart, only death would end the connection,” Juno said, sitting close to her. “I hope fate won’t do it so soon.”

  “Men like Johnny Moores don’t intend to commit murder, but death might be less cruel than what he’ll leave behind if he gets his way,” she said, not to hurt Juno but to prepare for what could happen. “He’ll go somewhere like Juan did with Emma so he can take his time, but there’s something he’s not counting on.”

  “What?” Juno asked, not seeming shocked at what she was saying, probably because of her experiences in Cuba before Ramon got them all out.

  “That Remi wants to make Dallas happy more than that asshole wants to hurt her. Up to now no one in his life has stood up to him, but that’s about to change and he won’t survive it.”

  “Baby,” Emma said from the door. “Carlos is here.”

  “Send him in,” she said, glancing at the black clouds building outside. “Not a good day, is it?” she asked Juno, and felt her small hands on her shoulders as Juno came to stand behind her.

  “Remember, for every rainy day, many are full of light and warmth. It’s the cycle of life, so we must do our best to bear these with as much strength as possible.”

  “Good morning,” Carlos said, following Emma in.

  “I’m looking forward to one of those long warm days,” she said to Juno before she had to tell Carlos the news he didn’t want to hear. “Carlos, please come in and sit.”

  “Did you find him?” he asked, looking like he hadn’t slept much. “We’ve been searching but so far nothing.”

  “I found out what happened to him, and I’m sorry,” she said, giving Juno a chance to catch up. “He’s dead,” she said, going on to tell him how Rodolfo was killed. “From the way they found him and what I’ve heard about Armando Ortega, Gracelia and most probably Juan are in town and responsible.”

  “I would know if they were here,” he said loudly. “We have a majority of our men on the streets and in places she would have to go. Do you know something about her being here?”

  “No, but I haven’t been looking for her. My efforts have been concentrated on Juan and Anthony Curtis. That’s why I told you last night that the only reference Rodolfo made to her wasn’t enough. When Juan came into the country under his father’s name I figured she hated him, but I had no idea she planned to kill him.”

  “You did admit that this business wasn’t that important to you, but to me nothing is more important. I thank you for the information and I give you my word that if you ever have need of my help I’ll be more than happy to provide it, but I won’t need you anymore.”

  “Are you sure?” She asked only to be nice, but if he refused her offer, she was done. She had other things to keep her busy. “You have my number, so don’t think you can’t call if you need something.”

  He stood and shook her hand with both of his. “My father,” he said, pausing as if he still wasn’t used to that title in reference to Rodolfo, “was wrong about you.”

  “Thanks for the compliment, and good luck.” She watched him go as she gently scratched the stitches along her temple.

  “You seem to be the most popular patient on the floor,” Mark said, walking in and followed by the fellows on his rotation for the year. “Any more seizures or symptoms I haven’t heard about?” he asked, coming over to her and starting his examination without caring that Juno and Emma were still in the room.

  “My head still hurts a little but no more seizures and not much nausea,” she said honestly. Emma was staring her down, ready to jump in, she was sure, if she didn’t tell the whole truth. “I’m resting like you told me and I feel a lot better.”

  “You look like hell but your vitals are good, and from what your partner tells me you’re on your best behavior,” Mark said, writing something in her chart. “At this point I don’t see why you can’t keep doing what you are here at home.”

  “You’re discharging me?” She was excited about putting on clothes since being in a hospital gown for more than two days made her feel like she would break out in hives.

  “On one condition,” he said, looking over at Emma. “If you continue to rest for at least one more day, listen to whatever Emma tells you, and come back at the first sign of any symptoms.”

  “You passed medical school counting like that?” Cain asked, trying not to sound sarcastic. “That’s three by my count.”

  “Call it a field sobriety test,” he said, laughing as he wrote out a few prescriptions. “Take these as directed and I expect to see you in my office in two days. You have a lovely brain, Cain, so try to keep being good so it stays that way.”

  “These seizures I’m having,” she said, not sure if she really wanted an answer. “Those are permanent?”

  “The first blow to your head, from what you told me, was bad enough,” he said, softly touching along her brow and temple where the brui
sing was especially dark, from what she’d noticed in the bathroom mirror. “That one most probably gave you a concussion, but the second blow concentrated in the same area really opened that cut and made that concussion more serious. Right now your brain is trying to right itself, as it were, and it’s a wait-and-see.”

  “Wait and see? That’s the best you got?”

  “I’m not a witch doctor, if that’s what you mean, but the brain is a complicated machine, Cain. It’s important for you to pamper yours until the steroids and medication have a chance to do their thing. If you want my opinion, and realize that only time will tell, I believe that the seizures are in your past, but that’s not a guarantee. Go home and lounge around with this beautiful woman and try not to excite yourself too much,” he said with a wink.

  “Thanks, Mark, and we’ll see you in a couple of days,” she told him, and stayed quiet when Emma followed him outside. “I believe the conspiracy against me is being plotted out there.”

  “You remind me so much of Simon,” Juno said, coming around so she could see her. “You’re both strong, but your lives would be so different without the soft influence women like me and Emma bring into them.”

  “Soft isn’t the right word,” she said, standing and accepting Juno’s hand to steady herself. “My mother always told me that to carry the weight of family and marriage requires strength disguised as softness, but in reality it’s the indestructible fiber that holds us together. Women like you and Emma are the foundations that keep us whole.”

  “I take it back. You’re a lot smarter than my Simon. It took her years to come to that conclusion. You have a lot less gray hair than she did before she became so wise.”

  She laughed at Juno’s words and accepted her hug. “You can go keep Marianna company, but please call me as soon as you hear anything.”

  “That’s a promise, and remember what the doctor said. Let Emma be in charge for a change and take care of yourself.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Emma said, opening the door wider so the orderly with the wheelchair could make it in. “The doctor supplied me with a blow gun with medicated darts in case she gets unruly.”

  Getting into the chair and letting one of her people pack up the room filled Cain with relief. At the moment she was helpless to do anything for Remi and Dallas, but she could start searching for Gracelia Luis, certain that her trail would lead her to the prize she wanted most. Juan was still out there, and she seriously doubted that Gracelia had killed Rodolfo all on her own. That kind of stunt required a crew and, if she had to guess, Gracelia’s son.

  If they were both in town, it was easier to explain the five boxes she’d received as a sick gift, even if she didn’t have proof. Her gut told her their deaths were on Gracelia and Juan’s heads, but why? Did they kill six people to introduce Gracelia to the game and show what she was capable of, or did Juan act on his own? Gracelia might be his mother, but she might not be able to control him any more than Rodolfo could.

  “You okay, baby?” Emma asked when they got into the car.

  “I’m fine,” she lifted her arm so Emma could come closer, “just planning a little hunting excursion.”

  “Big game?” Emma asked as they drove by the surveillance van.

  “No, more like I’m planning to take a page out of one of our least favorite people’s book,” she said, making Emma lean away so she could look up at her. “I intend to start small and work my way up.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Busy night?” Jerome poured himself a cup of coffee and tried to keep his annoyance down since Gracelia hadn’t come home and he hadn’t seen her since they’d arrived.

  “We have lived without each other all these years, so don’t think that all of a sudden I won’t be able to exist without you,” she said, not looking up from the local paper in front of her. She was scanning the pages, apparently searching for something important. “I had things to do and it took longer than I thought.”

  “Tell me that means you didn’t go out and kill someone,” he said, opening the plantation shutters and staring outside for anything out of the ordinary.

  “Rodolfo is no longer our problem, and starting today we have to move so we don’t lose any of what he was able to capture here,” she said, still not making eye contact.

  These people were unbelievable. The only thing she and Juan didn’t do was call the press before they did something to make sure everyone with a law interest didn’t miss what they were up to.

  But he’d give her the benefit of the doubt before he lit into her. “I see,” he said, and it must have been his tone that made her head rise. “I know that was important to you, but I’m sure you did it in a way that he won’t be found soon.”

  “I tied him to a tree and did the same thing to him that he did to my Armando.”

  “You left him tied to a tree covered in ants?” He laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

  “It’s what he deserved and it’s done,” she said, her expression resembling Juan’s when he got angry. “What is your problem? You act like a scared old woman most of the time.”

  “Then I’ll be a scared old woman living to a ripe old age, not surrounded by concrete and bars,” he said, squeezing the cup in his hand so hard that it shattered. “Do you honestly think they won’t know exactly who did this when they find him?”

  “He won’t be found, and if they do they’ll never be able to identify the body from a pile of bone with no teeth. I know for a fact that Rodolfo’s DNA was never in anyone’s system.” She threw a rattling bag on the table, and he didn’t need to open it to know it was Rodolfo’s teeth. “We both agreed that he had to die in order for us to get what we want. No one will care how it was done, only that he’s dead. That goes for your precious FBI.”

  “Get a few things through your head or I’ll walk away from you, and in this city, you’ll never find me again. If that happens, I predict that between your theatrics and Gustavo’s brilliant ideas, you’ll both be serving a life sentence before the month is out. You can change Juan’s face and his name, but you need me to pick up his slack.”

  “What about my son do you hate so much?”

  “Stupidity annoys me, and when it comes to joining forces with him I’m annoyed with myself.”

  “You’re saying you’re stupid?” she asked, smiling at him in what he perceived to be total condescension. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

  “I’m stupid because I didn’t realize sooner what a total moron your son is, Gracelia. As a former FBI agent I’m familiar with the jail system in this country, and it’s my goal in life not to end up in one,” he said, wiping the hot liquid off his pants. “The two of you act like you can’t wait to start a prison sentence.”

  “If Rodolfo was news, it would be on the front page,” she said, throwing the paper at him. “I went through the whole thing, not a mention.”

  A knock on their door made him decide to table their discussion for now, but it was far from over. When he opened it a small Hispanic man stood nervously fidgeting between Lorenzo and Gustavo.

  “Santos, come in,” Gracelia said, acting as if they’d been making love from the way she stood next to Jerome and looped her hand around his elbow. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.”

  “Rodolfo is dead, Gracelia, don’t you care?” Santos said, stumbling when Gustavo pushed him through the door.

  “Did Lorenzo tell you?” she asked, sitting on the sofa and pulling him down next to her. “Tragic, isn’t it?”

  “It was all over the local news this morning, and before Lorenzo and your other man showed up, the cops were already picking up some of the boys for questioning.” As Santos talked, Jerome understood the word “news” in Spanish so he picked up the remote and turned on the TV. It took a few minutes before the news cycled back to the lead story featuring their action reporter standing near a clump of trees with police tape around it. Joe and Lionel were milling around the local police, and Claire was taki
ng pictures.

  Gracelia told Santos, “We’ll be working hard to make sure whoever did this pays for killing my brother, but I’m here to make sure you understand I’m in charge of holding this operation together.” The performance she was giving as the grieving sister could have won her awards on the stage, as she shook her head and sighed. “You’ll report to my men—Gustavo Katsura,” she said, pointing to Juan, and Santos showed no sign of recognition, “and Jerome.”

  “I thought Rodolfo put Carlos in charge in case anything happened to him. That’s the word we all got yesterday,” Santos said, looking nervous again as his eyes flitted from one person to the next.

  “Why would he put Carlos in charge?” Gustavo asked, clearly annoyed. The way Santos suddenly widened his eyes showed that he recognized the voice. “He’s nothing but a peasant.”

  “I might be wrong,” Santos said, as if backtracking was his best defense. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Gustavo’s right.” Gracelia was still trying to sound soothing. “Why would my brother put Carlos in charge and not inform me?”

  “I think you’d better call him,” Santos said, putting his hands together. “That’s all I was told.”

  “Santos, really.” Gracelia stood and locked eyes with Lorenzo, who immediately pulled out his gun and started screwing his silencer to it. “Rodolfo never did anything without laying out all the facts. He was annoyingly consistent, so you can either tell me his reasons and go back to work, or I’ll have Lorenzo shoot you and I’ll find out anyway.”

  “He acknowledged Carlos as his son, and because he is, he left him everything, including the business.” Santos spoke quickly, making it hard for Jerome to understand the rapid Spanish.

  “Before he pisses on himself, you want to tell me what’s going on,” Jerome said to Gracelia. She gave him the short version and he wanted to gloat. “Does this guy know how Rodolfo died?” he asked, since the news hadn’t exactly given all the details. His Spanish was limited but he had understood the phrase “like Armando” perfectly.