A clap of thunder rocked the roof, followed by the cries of family and guests who hurried inside to escape the rain that seemed to be determined to sweep everyone off the veranda.
Cristóbal Rincón strode over to where Rafael was wearing out the floor boards. "The Father arrived, but he needs to change into dry clothing. By then the women should be ready."
He asked Juan Luis's assistance in getting everyone seated and the more the room resembled that of a formal wedding affair, the heavier my heart got.
I went over to Rafael, searching his face. "Don't do it," I said. "I have never asked anything for myself. Ever. In all of these years. But I'm asking you now. Please don't do this."
He started to pace again, but I stayed with him. "Truth be told, I don't think I can do this." I stepped in front of him, but some commotion at the back of the room caught his attention, and he turned away from me. My already beaten heart sank as I saw the Father moving forward. If only I could get a few more minutes with Rafael. Away from here. Where I could tell him how I felt. Straightforward, just laying it on the line. Maybe then he would forget about Luz; realize he didn't need her…
A murmur swept over us. The kind that brought everyone to their feet, meaning only one thing. I stared down the aisle that had been created by the chairs lining the room, seeing exactly what Rafael saw. The woman he loved, in a breathtakingly beautiful white gown adorned with delicate embroidery. Her upswept hair curling softly around her flushed cheeks, the buttery fine lace of her veil trailing over the length of her dress and beyond. It was difficult to take my eyes off her. And as much as I wished I could, it was impossible to hate her. Because I looked at Rafael and saw a love of such incredible depth etched into his face that I knew there was nothing on earth I could or should say that would ever change his mind.
I stepped out of the way for Luz to take the place by his side. A place I had been in for so long that I couldn't even fathom someone else occupying it. I wanted Rafael to be happy. That was all I ever wanted. But now that I saw he was and could be without me, it was unbearable to be in the same room with him. I wanted to run. Run as far away as possible and never come back. But my feet didn't move. And although everything inside me screamed, not a sound came out of my mouth. Yes, it was true that he deserved sun and light and warmth on this day, because I had never seen Rafael happier. The rain falling was mine, like torrents of tears drumming on the ground until the words of the Father, the I dos and the joyous congratulations were driven as far from my ears as I could push them.
As he wrapped his arms around Luz in their first kiss as husband and wife, I broke with the thunder, curling into myself and grieving for all that had changed forever between us. I could not hold the sobbing in any longer, and I let it out until I was too spent to stay curled up. In my cloudy field of vision, the whiteness of Luz's dress faded into the folds of the pillow I hung on to for dear life.
It seemed like a small eternity that I remained lying there perfectly still, just listening while the waves of pain slowly ebbed off until there was no sound left but my normal breathing. How could my mind be so cruel? Sending me into battle after draining me like that. Surprisingly, the pounding in my head had stopped, but I felt physically weak and wished I could rest for another day or better yet, a week.
Tee knocked on the door, opening it without waiting for a reply. "Melissa? We need to get going."
There was no more time to think about Rafael, and for the first time since coming to Puerto Rico, I was grateful for the distraction. We reviewed the plan once more before Tee squatted down to face Santiago.
"Remember, Mel is the boss," he said, managing a smile as Santi nodded vigorously. "What she says goes. And when all is said and done,…"
"…go to our meeting point and wait there, no matter how long it takes," Santiago finished his father's sentence.
"Very good." Tee smoothed out his son's shirt, only to crumple it again in a tight embrace. "Te quiero, m'hijo." He buried his face in Santi's hair.
"I love you too, Papá."
Miguel rattled his keys impatiently. "You have a five p.m. date, Mel; time to get going."
I held Tee back by his shirtsleeve as he was about to follow Miguel. "What's your meeting point?"
"What you don't know, nobody can get out of you," he replied. "It's enough that Santiago knows."
"You've got to be kidding!"
Tee sat down in the passenger seat of Miguel's car. "Remember, even if you don't see us, we're there," he said, shutting the door behind him.
Chapter 28
The skies over San Juan were a brilliant blue when Santiago and I parked the Jeep a few blocks away from the Plaza de Armas. I'd tried to get him to tell me about his and his father's meeting place, but he proved a nimble opponent and my quest ended up being nothing more than an amusing and fruitless game to entertain us until we arrived.
As we walked around the corner of Calle San Francisco, the pavement seemed to fade away, exposing the hard-packed dirt from the days when Rafael and I had followed its path. I gripped Santiago's hand tighter.
"Ouch," he said, staring up at me. "Did you see him already?"
"Sorry." I loosened my hold. "No, not yet. I just felt a little funny, that's all." I blinked a few times, shaking my head to separate the settlement of Puerto Rico that I knew from my nights from the San Juan I was walking through this day. But was that really possible? They were the same, after all, even if separated by half a millennium. As we stepped onto the western end of the Plaza de Armas, my skin tingled as though I'd been embraced by an electrical current. It looked so different, elegant and paved, a fountain nearby, the twin towers of City Hall along its northern side. Yet there was no doubt this was the place where Rafael and I had come to the market on more than one occasion.
I wanted to shake my head again, to push any memory of my time here with Rafael to the deepest crevices of my brain, but my neck was frozen as if in someone's grip. A shower of goose bumps trickled from the base of my skull to the very tips of my feet. Are we really in this together, Rafael, I whispered silently. I wanted to believe that we were, that for once he had slipped into my time to be here for me. Santiago's curls danced in the breeze and I felt a frown digging into the skin between my brows. Come on, let me have this one. Let us do this. You and me together. I pointed to the copula of the pavilion at the far end of the plaza. "That's where we need to go," I said to Santiago. If you're with me, Rafael, then I'm sure I can do this. So just…go along with me. Please. For me. I'll take care of Santiago, I promise.
Rafael's grandson removed by a good number of generations stumbled along as I picked up my pace. Good. If it looked like he was being dragged against his will, even better. Feeling buoyed by my newfound conviction that I wasn't doing this alone, I focused on all that I had not seen before, covering old pictures with new imprints until the electrical charge subsided enough that I could fully concentrate on the present.
"Let's look at the flowers," I said to Santiago, motioning toward the woman who had her red and green flower buckets set up on the pavilion's steps. We looked over the colorful blossoms long enough that Santiago didn't have to fake being bored and antsy. He tried pulling his hand out of mine a few times – a move Tee had practiced with him – but I always jerked him back to my side.
I didn't hear Valentín's footsteps behind me, but the familiar cologne announced him seconds before he slipped his hand firmly around my waist. "Hello there, sweetheart," Valentín breathed into my ear before brushing his lips along my neck. "Miss me?"
Santiago pulled forward at the threat that had materialized behind our backs and the timing was perfect. With an angry pull, I returned him to my side, leaning over Valentín's firm holding arm. "Stop moving around, you brat," I hissed, searching for understanding in the face of my accomplice. "We'll return you to your dad soon enough."
"I want to go now," Santiago bellowed back loud enough to have the flower lady raise her eyebrows.
Valentín gripped in
to the boy's shoulder, making Santi grimace. "We'll go when I say we do," he said. "You raise your voice like that again and I'll give you something to scream about. Got that?"
"Take your hand off his shoulder," I hissed, chopping hard enough with the side of my hand against Valentín's wrist to free Santiago from his grip. In a continuous move, I managed to swivel around inside the cop's arm, my face less than a breath's distance from his, Santiago safely pushed behind me. A suture-covered purple split graced Valentín's forehead where Tee's coconut had struck him.
Before Valentín could say anything, I reached my arm around his neck, my fingers digging hard into his scalp as I pressed my lips against his. "Crazy as it might seem, I did miss you," I murmured, satisfied to see him breathless and confused. "It's time to exchange this kid for something more valuable. I didn't come here to play nanny, after all." He opened his mouth to talk, but I silenced him again with my lips, one arm behind me holding Santiago's hand, the other still slung around Valentín's neck.
I assumed we were being watched by more than one of his buddies, and I wanted them to be as unsure about his loyalty as possible. As I continued to kiss him forcefully, I noticed his tight grip around my waist turned into more of a passionate embrace.
"Damn you." He breathed heavily, searching my eyes.
I smoothed my lips into a soft smile. "You have to admit there's some nice chemistry between us," I said. "Ever consider working with a female partner rather than a bunch of crooked cops?"
He pulled back, and I hurried to continue. "Judging by the standard issue weaponry I got to see along the way, I am assuming you're all colleagues."
Valentín relaxed a little.
I smiled again. "With me the split's 50-50. Plus, I come with better benefits."
The cop released me from his arms, and I could see him struggle with the offer. His hand brushed over his hair, eyes darting off to his left. Santiago hadn't moved since I'd lunged my mouth against Valentín's, but I now jostled his arm, then spun around, glaring at him. He looked as confused as the cop, and I wished I could give him a sign to let him know that I was still working for the good guys. But this was not the time to make any move someone else might catch as well.
"All of your wiggling is really getting old," I snapped, busying myself with straightening his shirt collar and looking beyond him to the left. A few people were seated on the benches along the outer edge of the plaza. One lifted an open newspaper to obstruct his face as I glanced his way. Probably one of Valentín's guys who was watching us.
I straightened back up and returned my attention to Valentín, both of my hands clasped around Santiago's behind me.
"We should get out of here," Valentín said, another look toward the man with the newspaper. "Somewhere more private where we can talk."
"So you're considering my offer?"
He studied me for a moment before freeing one of my hands from the boy and slipping his arm around mine, leading me down the pavilion's steps. "Maybe."
He wanted to walk straight into the street, but I leaned into him and nudged him in the opposite direction, back onto the Plaza de Armas. He glanced over his shoulder at a passing car, reluctantly falling in step beside me.
"Then let's discuss it," I insisted.
"Not here."
"Why not? It's a nice open space. We can talk while we walk." I looked at him, tried catching where he fixed his eyes. It was difficult to make out details, but I was sure it was Domingo Vargas I saw taking a step into the shadows of City Hall's entrance. He probably was still smarting over the humiliating way in which I relieved him of his car, and I shivered at the possibilities of what he was willing to do to me as payback.
"I'm not much of an open air kind of guy," Valentín said. His grip around my arm tightened enough that I had no choice but to follow, dragging Santiago by my side. We drifted northward toward Calle San Francisco and City Hall, and before I realized what was going on, the same car that had passed behind us on the plaza's east side now stopped in front of us. Valentín pulled open the sand-colored Ford Sedan's back door and pulled us in with him. We were on our way before the door closed completely, and I struggled to peer out of the rear window from my semi-sideways laying position. Amid the regular movement on the plaza it was hard to tell if Miguel's men sprang into action or remained behind trying to pick out Valentín's back-up.
Rafael, tell me what to do! A wave of panic seized my breast, and my brain scrambled as I tried to recall anything useful I might have learned from all of his and Juan Luis's adventures.
Calmness. That was the only thing I came up with. Rafael always remained still and calm, at least on the outside. Not exactly the wave of inspiration I had hoped for, but as nothing else sprung to mind, I decided to go with it. I pulled out of Valentín's grip and sat upright by his side, protectively wrapping my arm around Santiago. He'd gotten very quiet, and I gave him a little squeeze, hoping it would pass on some of my fake calmness to him. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, and I mustered a haphazard smirk. "What's your name?"
He didn't answer, but stared back at the road. I looked at Valentín. "What's his name," I asked again.
"Torres," Valentín replied, earning himself a growled "shut up, Cardona" from the front seat. He ignored the comment and totally caught me off guard as he reached over and pulled my blouse open. With swift fingers, he checked both of my breasts, then down my torso, his other hand reaching less than romantically between my legs. Despite my wild heartbeat, I put on my best poker face.
"She's clean," he announced to Torres, dropping back into the seat.
"You could've just asked if I'm wearing a wire," I said as casually as my uncharacteristically cold hands allowed. Torres grunted, and I again met his eyes in the rearview mirror. "Wasn't talking to you," I added.
Streets and buildings were no more than colored wallpaper outside the car windows, and I realized that with Valentín's surprise body check I had paid zero attention to where the car was taking us. We had taken a few turns and by the sudden absence of Old San Juan's familiar buildings, it seemed we were heading east.
"Call the kid's father." Valentín held his phone out to me. "On speaker."
I took the phone and dialed Tee's number. He picked up after barely one ring, his "hello" as tense as one would expect from the father of an abducted child.
"Hello there, Mr. Jewelry Maker," I said, channeling some inner seductress I wasn't really sure was there. "Now that you've chased me all over this island, I think it's time we get down to business."
"I want to talk to my son." Rafael's voice still managed to pierce me to my very core, and I swallowed hard, glancing at Valentín. He mistook my look as a request for his approbation and nodded.
It was impossible for me not to run my hand over Santiago's hair, brushing it out of his face before I pushed him closer to the phone.
"Papá." The desperation in his voice made me cringe. Had I been that convincing as a two-timing vixen? I sat on my free hand to avoid hugging him. I couldn't risk any more motherly clues.
"There," I said, pulling the phone away again and turning my back to the little boy. "You spoke to him. He's fine. And quite frankly, too much work. Did you gather your jewelry together as I asked you?"
"I have it all here."
Valentín passed me one of his business cards with an address scribbled on the back and a notation of 30 minutes. I looked at him surprised. It was back in Old San Juan. He signaled me to read it, and I listened as Tee repeated it back to me.
"Be there in 30 minutes," I added before hanging up, then looking at Valentín. "Why back in town? Is that where Domingo Vargas and your other buddies are waiting to make their move?" I noticed Torres' rearview mirror glance, but ignored him, bestowing a sad smile on Valentín instead. "You honestly think they're going to cut you in? As often as you screwed up along the way?" I tapped the driver on the shoulder. "Why don't you tell him, Torres? It's the least you owe him before he'll be killed."
"Why don't you shut up, b…"
"Hey! There's a child here. Watch your language!"
Torres turned and looked at me wild-eyed. "She for real?" His question directed at Valentín, who let out a humorless laugh.
"Oh yeah," he replied. He glanced at me sideways as I motioned him for his pen. Although somewhat reluctant, he gave it to me. "Turn around at the next light, Torres. We need to head back."
"Come on, Torres," I breathed into the driver's ear. "Straight up. We're all going to get killed, aren't we? The kid, his father, me and your unfortunate sidekick here." Valentín tensed up. "I'm not even armed and neither is the boy. Cardona has what, one gun? Not enough against the firepower from your buddies who are waiting back in San Juan for us." I kept my voice light and chipper, even while talking about my own impending demise. Calmness and creating doubt in Valentín with my words were the only weapons I had. For years I'd been selling people products they didn't even know they needed or wanted until I presented them in such a way that they seemed irresistible must-haves. Santiago's and my only chance out of this was an alliance with Valentín. As much as I should dislike the cop, I wanted to believe that he just got in over his head and didn't deserve to go down with the rest of the gang. This car ride just turned into the most important sales meeting I'd ever had.
The driver said nothing, just staring grimly ahead. He'd slowed down his pace to make sure we wouldn't arrive ahead of schedule.
I handed Valentín his business card. On the front across his information, I'd scribbled, "Last chance. You and me." Next to it, I wrote "or R.I.P. 4 all of us."
He gnawed hard on his bottom lip while studying the card. I kept my eyes on him and crossed my heart when he looked up.
If anyone would have told me that there'd be a day when I would be glad to see a gun being pulled inches from my face, I would have declared them unequivocally insane. And yet here I was, elated at the sight of a Baretta as Valentín reached into his jacket and placed the nozzle against Torres' neck just below his left ear.
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