The family and Jameson walked through the little iron gate and into the courtyard and it took Joy’s breath away, from the van it was beautiful but inside it was lush and overflowing with plants, trees and flowers, she saw begonias, red oleander, hibiscus, and lavender. There was beautiful and tall leonatis or lion’s ear, an avocado tree, and there was anise and cascading rosemary hanging from pots, all beautiful and well maintained.
They trooped inside the house, and inside was just as spectacular. It was all tiled floors and decorated in heavy dark Spanish furniture and bold deep colors, “Oh, this is lovely, just lovely,” Joy said. “It’s beautiful, the color reminds me of your house off Guadalupe Street,” Royce said. “Yes, but my house was just a poor imitation, this looks so much more authentic doesn’t it?” Royce didn’t think so, this house was beautiful, but the other house had Joy written all over it.
“Well if we’re going to live here we’d better check it out,” and they walked the house, “This house was built in 1910 by a German architect who wanted a summer home,” Jameson said, “But since then it’s been owned and renovated several times. I thought you might like it here and this place is far away, most people don’t even know about it.” “Yes, I can see that, how’d you find out about it?” Royce asked, and they saw Jameson blush. “I came here to convalesce after I took a wound,” and they looked at him, “It was many years ago,” he said turning away, “But I discovered this town then, it was quiet and beautiful, perfect getaway.” “Where are we? What part of Spain are we in?” Royce asked, he needed some sense of direction. “We’re in northern Spain, in Basque country, near the southern border of France actually, that body of water you see is the Bay of Biscay and the mountains behind us are the Cantabrian Mountains. Most towns around here are very old, from Medieval times, but Isle de St. Mary’s is new in comparison, it was started by rich tourist building homes in the mid 1800’s,” he said as he showed them the house, and out of nowhere came the blonde woman.
Jameson had done what he could to make them disappear, and other than her sister showing up, but it turned out to be a better diversion for the boyfriend to say he was with her than trying to make something up. His only problem was her sister was more outgoing than she was and she talked a lot. He hoped she would keep her mouth closed, and the boyfriend, man he was a big guy, none of them knew potentially what kind of people they might be dealing with. At this point even he didn’t know for sure, but he wasn’t going to take any chances and let something happen to Mrs. Harrington and those boys. Man she was pretty, he’d never looked at her up close like that, and the plane ride, Oh god, that was a huge failure. Mr. Harrington was awful in disguise. He just couldn’t play a role and he had to smile, it was funny but so dangerous. They had no idea, but he’d done what he could and after the night of the shooting he knew where he had to take them.
He knew lots of places, but he knew that once he walked that house and when he walked in the living room and saw the portrait. It was a huge portrait of their wedding day, and Mrs. Harrington was stunning, absolutely breathtaking, her dress showing off her beautiful curves, her dark hair pulled to the side, her red bouquet brilliant and her smile said it all, “I’m happy, so happy,” but it was Mr. Harrington that struck him, he couldn’t take his eyes off him, he was a man striking in his bearing, but his expression, the look in his eye said something, it spoke to you, his bold blue eyes sparkled, his smile so easy but it held all the answers to something and he stared at him. He’d never seen that man before. The first Mr. Harrington he met was sad, sad over his love for a married woman, then angry at her husband, then worried, concerned, scared even of what was going on in his life, but on his wedding day he was who he was supposed to be. It was there captured in that portrait and he knew then he had to protect that man and his family and he hoped one day when this was all over he’d see the man in that picture again, and he thought of the house in Spain.
The house was a vacation rental property now, anyone who could afford it rented it by the week, the month, to spend their holiday in and he’d basically taken it off the market. He’d sent Valerie to set up the surveillance equipment and plant bugs and he rented the house next door for them.
Joy and Royce walked upstairs and into the master suite, the windows were open, “Oh my, would you look at that view? The water isn’t that clear turquoise of Jamaica, but it’s gorgeous, just gorgeous!” Joy said. The windows opened like double doors and there was a beautiful wrought iron enclosure so you could stand there for hours letting in the sea breeze and bay sounds, it had a spectacular view of the beach and dark blue waters of the bay and you could see far off for miles into the horizon and she saw nothing but miles and miles of beach. She looked to her right and saw wooden stairs leading down from their new home. She let her eyes follow the stairs, it stopped at a small wooden landing, then continued down to the beach, a retention wall was built as the steps reached the sand, it kept the beach below and the property above from encroaching on each other and at the bottom of the stairs there was a table and chairs under a blue beach umbrella so she assumed that must belong to this house.
She saw people on the beach, most weren’t swimming, but walking or laying out, a few brave souls were in the water, it was March and the end of winter so she assumed the water was cold. This is going to be my new home until this thing blows over, she smiled, yeah, I can like it here. “I think Jameson did alright on this one. The house in Jamaica wasn’t bad, but this, yeah I can be on the run in this,” they laughed and Royce smiled and the only thing missing to him was that portrait over the mantle, to have it here would be a great reminder on what he was striving for.
Valerie showed Jameson the equipment in the closet, she flicked through screen after screen and he checked the sound on the bugs, he could hear the Harrington's up in their master bedroom, he took off the headphones. “Okay everything is set then,” Jameson said, “So what’s the word from Reggie?” He’d left Reggie in charge of the office and placed an undercover prison guard to get close to Tammy. “So far cold,” that was good and bad, good no one was looking and bad nothing new had come from the undercover. “Okay, I need you to go into town, hang out see if anyone is interested in the new arrivals.” He saw Valerie smile, he knew she liked disguises as much as he did, he’d see her leave in a few minutes looking like a Spanish lady on a night on the town, he was over talking to Royce by then.
“Valerie and I are ensconced in the house next door. We are constantly surveilling the premises, so you might see us pop up out of the blue. Let your family know this, so we won’t alarm them, and Mr. Harrington one of us must accompany Mrs. Harrington wherever she goes, please advise her of that.” Royce nodded, “She won’t like it, but she’ll understand,” and he was feeling more relaxed and safe, and now he was glad he had the off shore account in the Cayman Islands.
Jameson brought Ricardo and his wife Rosa over to introduce them. “These are the caretakers, she cleans and cooks and he does the grounds. She will come every day and cook, clean and do laundry, dishes, so don’t worry about any of that,” Jameson said. “Well do they speak English?” Joy asked, they were bowing and saying, “Hola Senora.” “Hablan Ingles,” he said to them, “Si, poco Ingles,” Rosa said. “Si un poquito mas,” Ricardo said. “He speaks more than she does,” Jameson said, and Joy looked at him, "You speak Spanish?" He looked shy, "Yes ma'am." “Okay, well then Jameson we need to learn too. Can you get us a Spanish tutor or do you want me to find one…” “No Mrs. Harrington, no I will find a tutor,” and so far he hadn’t decided what to do with them and their names. The plane ride showed him it was going to be impossible for them to pretend to be other people and even if they did the children would surely give them away, but if they kept their names it was a flashing beacon to whoever might be looking for them so for now he was perplexed.
And that night when Valerie came back she said, “No, nobody cares. They see so many people coming and going in this house they expect it, but they think she
’s Spanish,” and he raised an eyebrow, “They say a Spanish lady and her Anglo husband are now vacationing in the house.” Jameson shook his head and walked the perimeter and saw the big house quieting down.
“Come here woman,” Royce said, “No, stop it Royce, stop it,” Joy said giggling and laughing. Royce kissed her, “Oh I love you woman.”
Joy had done the thing Royce loved. She had finally unpacked her suitcase and she found the leopard print camisole and thong and laughed when she saw it, “How in the world did he think to pack this?” She fell on the bed laughing so hard, he was talking to Jameson then, and as she unpacked her suitcase and saw what kind of packing he had done she couldn’t understand what he was thinking, “This shirt, I haven’t worn this in years,” and then almost at the end she pulled out the leopard camisole and thong and she fell out laughing.
That night after they’d showered and put the kids to bed she closed the bathroom door, brushed her hair until it was bouncy and full of body, she put on the leopard print camisole and thong and a pair of black high heeled pumps he’d packed. She opened the door and walked sexily out in front of him and he nearly died, he laughed so hard, but he was also turned on, “Where did that come from?” And “Damn you look good woman.” “You packed it,” she teased him. “I did not, did I?” He questioned, “Yes, you know you did,” and Royce had no idea he’d packed it, he just opened a drawer and saw underwear and dumped it in her suit case, he laughed, “I guess I knew what I wanted, come here woman,” she ran from him, twitching her beautiful behind. He chased her around, grabbing her and throwing her on the bed, tickling her. “Stop it Royce, stop it,” she said laughing.
Royce untied the red ribbon that held the top together and opened it exposing her breast, “Oh baby,” he moaned, this took him right back to The Club when she was his then too. They’d left all their toys. He guessed they’d have to replace those while they were here. He sucked her, and caressed her bare round swells, “Oh baby, oh you feel so good,” Royce wanted to savor this moment with her. They were safe, and loving Joy was the only thing that mattered, and right now he didn’t want to think about who was after them or why, they were safe.
After their first night they settled into living in Spain and made a home in Isle de St. Mary’s and had become totally and wholly Spanish.
Joy thanked god for Rosa, it was Rosa who taught her how to cook the Spanish way and how to live the Spanish lifestyle. “No, no senora,” she would say, “You must learn to cook slowly.” Food and lifestyle went hand in hand in Spain. Joy learned that breakfast and dinner were small light meals, breakfast or desayuno usually consisted of strong café con leche (coffee with frothy milk) and bollos (sweet rolls), and dinner or la cena is usually an omelet or fish with a green salad or arroz cubano (white rice with tomato sauce and vegetables, topped with a fried egg), but lunch or la comida was the main meal, it was long at least two to three hours with multiple courses, from soup, like vegetable, bean, seafood, gazpacho or salad. Then the main course is accompanied with many dishes like paella (a seafood rice), goat cheese stuffed peppers, roast suckling pig, pisto manchego (a ratatouille), potatoes bravas, fresh fruits, rabbit stew and bread is always on the table and to follow up there is a dessert of flan, fruit, or ice cream.
And to Joy’s liking Rosa made everything from scratch and planned her day based on what she would cook and Joy learned to relax and take it slow. The table would be laden with food for la comida and everyone came to eat, the children were let out of school, Royce came over from the ranch, Ricardo would come in from the yard, Jameson and Valerie would come from next door and the house was always warm from the oven because Rosa always had something cooking, from baking bread to simmering pots or slow roasting meats in the oven. After la comida the Spanish took a siesta, they rested, relaxed and that’s when the beach was full, or people went into town to visit, shop or hang out with friends, it was a way of life Joy and Royce weren’t used too. They were used to working all the time, and never slowing down, but Spain taught them to slow down and break up their day in chunks to get the most enjoyment out of it. After siesta everybody went back to work, home or school. And when the work day was done it was fun time or fiesta, the people got out. They’d have la merienda, a light after la comida snack, usually a chorizo sausage with bread, or bread topped with chocolate, then they’d hang out at the beach or in town until dinner which was usually around nine and lasted till midnight.
To Joy the Spanish were night people, they came alive at night and could hang out for hours it seemed, no matter what time she looked towards town the colored lights were always on and people were always there milling around. Usually hanging out at the cafes, music from indoors could be heard in the street and the people were always laughing, socializing, dancing and having fun. The Spanish may have been night people but she and Royce were not, that was one thing the Spanish lifestyle couldn’t change; they wound down during dinner hours and usually by ten o’clock were in bed. So the family adopted this new lifestyle, they worked hard but they also stopped to take a siesta and enjoy family and friends.
Royce had found his way and was happy and busy. Not long after they arrived he took the children across the street to see the horses and was appalled at the condition they were in. Their lazy caretaker left them half starved, uncared for and the only reason they hadn’t died was because there was a small stream on the property, and Joy couldn’t believe against this beautiful mountain backdrop horses were starving. Royce convinced the owner to let him run it. He fired the caretaker and invested his money and turned the business around and started breeding Andulusian horses.
He and Jameson drove all over Spain until he found the right stallion he named Whirlwind, and it didn’t take Whirlwind long to start siring little colts. When a mare showed signs she was ready Whirlwind was right there to oblige her. Royce had taught them all to ride and they loved it, so now all of them helped out at the ranch as much as possible. Royce was happy doing something he loved. All his life he’d wanted nothing more than to run his father's ranch and now here he was running for his life, but living the life of his dreams.
After fixing up the ranch, paying Jameson and taking care of his family in the style they deserved his money was running low. Who knew it wouldn’t take that long to run through a million dollars. He went to the bank and had funds wired from the Cayman account and in the memo section it said, “Hot sauce aisle 10”, and Royce laughed at first, but then he thought about what that meant to him and Bobby. It was their way of saying a hot girl was nearby, but after that Bobby always said, “She’s dangerous, keep away”, and he’d make the caution sound, beep, beep, beep, so there was a message here and he understood it, he went straight to Jameson.
“Look at this Jameson”, he showed him the memo section of the check, “Is there more going on?” Royce knew about the search, Jameson had informed him of that.
Jameson looked at him, he knew he would never tell him everything, never tell him what he knew his friends and family were going through, “No, still the search and it’s still warm, not hot yet”, and Jameson had told him warm meant they were searching but hadn’t hit on anything, hot was if they hit on something like them being in Jamaica, or the disastrous flight. Jameson had made a point to rub in the disaster of the plane ride. Royce didn’t think he’d ever forgive them for that, but Bobby's message to him was clear, something was going on.
Bobby had wired the money just to get him that message. There was plenty of money in that account. They’d been stashing money there for years, there was at least twenty-five million dollars in that account, but Bobby had to warn him and had used his cell phone from his hospital bed to get him that message.
A few weeks or so after Royce left his father called, “Bobby where’s Royce we haven’t heard from him and his secretary says he hasn’t been in the office!”
“He’s gone sir that’s all I know, he didn’t tell me anything, he just left.”
“You mean to tell me he j
ust left you and the company…What kind of foolhardy thing is that?” “Yes and I don’t have any idea…” “You sure you don’t know this doesn’t sound like Royce, you been to his house?” His father asked abruptly. “Yes and he’s not there”, and that was a lie he hadn’t been to the house, but he knew where the key was. Royce had left it for him in the garage and he had the code to get in the garage and the alarm code to get in the house, but he wasn’t going to tell anybody that, not even Royce's father. Royce's safety meant everything to him and his father might let something slip to the kids and they'd let it slip to that bitch Tammy and he'd never forgive himself.
“If you hear anything you let me know we’re worried about him. His mother can’t sleep she’s so worried”, his father said.
“I will sir, " he said and hung up and three days later...
He was heading to his car in the parking garage and about five men jumped out of a brown van parked near his car. They grabbed him, tossed him in the van and drove him to another location and tossed him around like a rag doll beating him, all the while demanding, “Tell us where your partner is!” PUNCH! PUNCH! PUNCH! He screamed and took the beating always saying the same thing, “I don’t know! He just ran off, I don’t know!” As they cracked his ribs with their punches and broke his fingers he was grateful he didn’t know, so grateful he couldn’t give them what they wanted or he knew he just might spill it to get them to stop and after they’d broke his nose with a hard punch to the face he yelled at them, “If you want me to make shit up to make this stop I will! Okay he’s in China! I don’t know!” His mouth was full of blood and he could taste the metal taste draining down his throat, and finally they believed him because they untied him, tossed him back in the van drove him back to the parking garage and tossed him in a bloody heap by his car.
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