Garrett closed his eyes as Parker bumped her shoulder into his while she hurriedly walked past him. He jumped when he heard the door to their suite slam behind her when she left.
The ringing of Garrett’s secure cell phone several minutes later pulled him out of his stupor as he quickly pulled it to his ear to answer it.
“McCarthy,” he barked.
There was silence on the other end of the line, save for the soft sound of someone breathing.
“Hello?” Garrett said.
Whoever it was hadn’t hung up yet, so Garrett kept the connection open.
“Listen, I can hear you breathing. Who is this?”
After several more seconds of silence, Garrett was getting ready to hang up when the person on the other end finally spoke.
“Is-is dis policía man?” a quiet female voice asked him in broken English.
“Ah, not really. Who is this?” Garrett asked. His phone had a private phone number and strangers shouldn’t have access to it.
“Excusa, I am Maria. My amiga was Catalina Olvera. I live next to her padre.”
Garrett cursed himself for not remembering that he had given that asshole father his phone number when he and Parker questioned him the other day.
“Gotcha. So Catalina’s father gave you my number?” Garrett asked.
“Oh! No, no, seńor. If he knew I call you, would be very bad. I was on my front steps and saw you give him your number. He threw it to the ground, and I took it when he went in house,” she explained nervously.
Garrett realized that Mr. Olvera had probably been an asshole to everyone he came in contact with if this girl was afraid of him. She sounded young; he figured she couldn’t have been over sixteen. The same age as Catalina.
“Okay, I promise I won’t tell him you contacted me. Can you tell me why you called?”
There was a long pause as Maria contemplated what she should tell him. He seemed nice when she watched him talk to Cat’s father. She hated that man. He was so mean to her best friend. He treated her like dirt and threw her out of his house leaving her with nowhere to go. Maria felt like she could trust this man on the phone. He didn’t make fun of her attempt at speaking English and he didn’t treat her like a child, even though she was.
“Bad things happen to my friend,” Maria said quietly.
Garrett remained quiet waiting for her to continue. He walked over to the table and grabbed a pen and paper from next to Parker’s laptop and scribbled the name Maria.
“She have nowhere to live. She come to me one day and say American man going to make all her dreams come true. She will have money and see the world and always have nice place to sleep,” Maria explained.
Garrett wrote down as much as he could and urged her to continue when she paused.
“Cat very excited even when I tell her it sound too good to be true. She tell me she go to hotel for…um, how you say, question? Interrogatorio?”
“Interrogation? Interview?” Garrett supplied.
“Si, interview,” Maria agreed. “She go to hotel the next night for interview, and I never see her again. She muerto the next day,” she said with a quiet sob.
Garrett’s heart was practically beating out of his chest and he knew before Maria even replied to his next question, what her answer would be.
“Maria, do you remember the name of the hotel that Catalina went to?”
She responded immediately and with absolute certainty.
“Occidental El Embajador.”
Chapter Fifteen
Parker walked down the path that led away from the villas and towards the lobby, swiping angrily at the tears that left wet trails on her cheeks. For the first time since she met him, she wanted to be as far away from Garrett as possible. She tried to be sympathetic to what he was going through, but he pushed her too far. He took everything that happened between them in the past two days and made it into something disgusting and guilt-ridden.
The only solace for Parker was the fact that at least Garrett hadn’t crashed through all of her defenses. Her heart was still intact, and he hadn’t broken her. She was strong and fierce and knew exactly who she was and what she wanted. She wasn’t about to let him stomp all over her. There may be complete and utter confusion between them about the line they’d crossed with each other in the past few days, but they were still friends. Garrett knew her better than anyone, and he damn well better remember that before he did something that could never be forgiven.
Parker got to the lobby and looked around, unsure of what it was she even needed right now or where she should go. She spotted a few people sitting at the bar at the other end of the room and sighed. Parker knew drinking would get her nowhere. It would enhance her emotions and decrease her ability to think straight.
With a sigh she realized it was exactly what she needed. She needed to not think. About Garrett, about Milo, about regrets and decisions, betrayals and lies, and everything else that was at war with her head and her heart that night.
She made her way over to the other side of the lobby and sat down on a stool at the end of the bar, ordering a dirty martini with extra olives.
<> ~ <>
After a quick call to Brady, Garrett met him out in the parking lot by the rental car. They pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards Santa Domingo as the sun began to set.
“So, are you going to tell me what has you so pissed off?” Brady asked as he grabbed onto the car handle above his head when Garrett took a turn a little too fast and a lot too sharp.
Garrett looked over at Brady in irritation.
“Do you really need to ask that right now? I’m going to a fucking hotel in the Dominican Republic to ask the staff if they’ve ever seen my dead best friend there. I’m two fucking steps away from finding out the man I thought I knew was a stranger and a criminal,” Garrett said angrily as he put his eyes back on the road.
“Yeah, I get why you’re pissed about that. But that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s certainly not why you’re white-knuckle driving nor is it why you keep checking your personal cell phone every two seconds.”
Garrett ignored Brady’s comments and kept his eyes on the road. He was in no mood to have this discussion with him or anyone right then.
“I swear to God if the two of you don’t get your shit together soon, you’re both going to regret it,” Brady mumbled as he turned away from Garrett and looked out his window.
Brady had never seen two people who were more stubborn than Garrett and Parker. They were going to kill each other before this was over.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Garrett asked.
“You and Parker. I’m guessing the reason for the extra attitude right now is because you got into a fight with her. Am I right?” Brady questioned.
Garrett scoffed. “Parker and I are friends. We fight. Not that big of a deal.”
The lie rolled off of Garrett’s tongue easily, but he made sure to avoid looking at Brady when he said it.
“Right. Friends,” Brady said with a snort.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Garrett asked angrily.
“It just means that I’ve seen the way you two are around each other. I’ve seen it for years. Shit, everyone has. And I get that Milo was your best friend and that she was his fiancée, but come on, Garrett. Milo is gone. Maybe it wasn’t the right time for you guys before, maybe neither one of you was in the right place, but you’re here now. Together. What the hell are you waiting for?”
Garrett let Brady’s words sink in and tried swirling them around in his mind to make them fit together with all of his previous thoughts and wants. He was too angry to make anything come together or make sense. He didn’t need someone who had no idea about his and Parker's relationship making assumptions.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. We’re friends. End of story. Neither one of us wants anything else.”
Garrett ended the conversation by turning on the radio so Brady wouldn’t feel
the need to give him any more unsolicited advice. Talking about Parker as just his friend sounded foreign to his ears all of a sudden. He thought back over the last couple of days and the changes he saw in her. He watched her transform into an entirely different person right before his eyes. Yet, underneath she was still the same amazing woman that she’d always been —putting everyone first and to hell with what she needed or wanted. She’d done it with her father, with the CIA, with Milo, and now with him. She stood there in that room trying to get him to understand that things might not have been what they seemed, letting him yell and make accusations because she knew he needed to let it all out. Garrett took her patience and support and turned right around and practically called her a whore.
He was lying to her and he was lying to himself, but he just couldn’t seem to stop.
Garrett pulled into the Occidental El Embajador’s parking lot, turned the car off, and got out without a word to Brady. The two men walked into the lobby, glancing around for the best person to talk to.
“You don’t want the front desk or a manager,” Brady whispered next to him. “They’re the most likely candidates to be on Fernandez’s radar and payroll.”
They walked further into the lobby and followed the signs leading to the restaurant in the back of the building.
“We need someone who spends a lot of time here and sees things other people might miss. Someone who struggles to make ends meet and watches people throw money away and abuse power. Someone who would readily trade information for a little cash,” Garrett said as they walked by the elevator just as the doors were opening.
A woman in her mid-fifties wearing a hotel maid uniform stepped out a few paces behind what looked to be the manager. He was speaking angrily in rapid Spanish to the woman, admonishing her for not having one of the suites ready by the time the high level guests arrived that morning. The man finished his rant and walked away, leaving the woman to stand there fuming.
“Bingo,” Brady said softly.
Garrett and Brady made their way over to the woman and stopped her right when she turned and began walking away.
Brady asked the woman in Spanish if they could have a few moments of her time to ask her some questions. She looked nervously between the two of them and wondered if she was going to be in more trouble for being late to work. The woman glanced behind her to the retreating back of her manager, not wanting him to see her standing around doing nothing.
“It’s okay, ma’am, we won’t tell anyone you spoke to us. We just want to show you a picture of a man and have you tell us if you have seen him here in the hotel before,” Brady explained to her.
In her time working there at the hotel, she had learned not to trust American men when they visited. She may not have understood what they said when they spoke their English, but she knew they were up to no good. They treated her and all the other cleaning staff like dirt. They liked to forget that while they came and went, she was the one to clean up after them. She saw what they left behind, she saw who they brought to the rooms, and heard what went on behind the closed doors.
These men, although obviously American, looked nicer than the others. They had pleasant faces and sincere smiles. They talked to her like a human being and not like a slave put there just for their use. She made a tentative decision to hear what they wanted before deciding if she could trust them.
Garrett held his breath while the woman looked back and forth between Brady and him and then glanced once more behind her. He was afraid they lost her, and she would go running to management.
After contemplating their genuineness for a few more seconds something in their faces must have convinced her that they were trustworthy enough. She motioned with her hand for them to follow her as she turned and quickly headed down a hallway behind the elevator bank.
The men casually followed her, making sure not to look suspicious. They walked behind her until they came to the end of the hallway and a door that said: Staff Only. She glanced behind them down the long hallway and then quickly pulled a key out of her pocket to unlock the door.
They stepped inside and she closed and locked the door behind them.
Brady thanked her again for agreeing to talk to them, and Garrett reached into his back pocket to pull out the picture he’d shoved in there earlier. It was a five by seven print of Milo and Garrett from their SEAL graduation. He smoothed out the creases and stared at the picture in his hand. It had been a beautiful day in San Diego. The sun had been shining, not a cloud in sight, and Garrett and Milo had their arms around each other’s shoulders, staring into the camera with huge smiles on their faces while Parker snapped the picture. They each just had the golden Trident pinned over their hearts and had tossed their caps into the air. After the caps hit the ground, they wound their arms around each other’s necks and Parker called their names so they would look up.
Garrett had remembered the words their Commanding Officer spoke as he attached the pin to each of their chests. The Trident symbolized that they were brothers in arms―that they train together and fight together. The eagle’s wings on the insignia were wide open to represent courage and strength, both of which the SEALS would need in abundance during their stint with the military.
Never, in his entire career, had Garrett felt the lack of courage, strength, and abundance of doubt in his brother as he did right at that moment while he slowly handed the photo to the woman, pointing to Milo’s face as Brady asked her if she recognized him.
The room was shrouded in silence while Garrett and Brady held their breaths as the woman stared at the picture.
One word was all it took for Garrett’s faith in everything he believed in to come tumbling down.
“Sí.”
<> ~ <>
Parker had just ordered her third dirty martini when another shot glass filled with murky brown liquid was placed in front of her. Parker shook her head and raised one eye brow towards the bartender. He shrugged his shoulders in a friendly manner and waited for her to down the shot.
For some reason each time Parker asked for extra olives, it got lost in translation and she was instead given a shot of the moonshine looking stuff.
“I see you’ve been introduced to Mamajuana,” a deep voice said beside her.
Parker turned to see Cole standing next to the empty bar stool to her left, motioning to it with his hand, questioning silently if he could sit down.
Parker smiled and nodded and Cole sat down, motioning to the bartender for a drink.
“So this rotgut is called Mamajuana?” Parker asked as she held the shot glass up in front of her face and stared at the dark liquid, making sure she didn’t see anything floating in it. She’d seen the bartender pull the bottle out from under the bar and didn’t miss the leaves and other sediment floating in it. She’d been to the Dominican enough to know that it would be considered rude to turn down a drink when it was given to her.
“That is correct,” Cole said with a laugh as a bottle of Presidente beer and another shot of Mamajuana was placed in front of him. “It’s made with rum, red wine, and honey. They let the liquids soak in a bottle with tree bark and herbs,” he explained as he held the glass up in front of him, mirroring Parker.
“Ahhh, so I was correct when I thought I spied a tree branch in the bottle earlier,” Parker joked.
It felt good to laugh after feeling sorry for herself for the past two hours. She wouldn’t let herself feel guilty it wasn’t Garrett she was laughing with. She was pleasantly buzzed but nowhere near drunk enough to forgive him yet.
Cole leaned in closer to Parker and spoke softly, “They say Mamajuana is considered the Dominican aphrodisiac.”
Parker laughed at the absurdity that something that tasted like dirt and church wine could be a turn on. She could feel Cole’s eyes on her and the heat from his body warming her arm, but she ignored it. Cole was sweet and made her laugh on the few occasions they’d been in each other’s company, but that was all. Parker could see out of the corner of her
eye that Cole was still staring at her. She shifted her body slightly away from him, hoping he wouldn’t be offended. She had no intention of giving him the wrong idea, even if she was still incredibly upset about the night's events and was well on her way to being so drunk she felt like reenacting that rainy night long ago with Garrett, where she stripped in front of him, as soon as she saw him again.
She turned to face Cole and raised her shot glass a little higher.
“Well then, to the Dominican. Let’s hope they find a better aphrodisiac soon,” she said with a laugh as she choked down the shot.
Cole laughed with her and swallowed the drink with ease. He could sense her distance and that was alright with him. He could tell from the first time he was in the same room with Garrett and Parker that Garrett would probably knock him out if he attempted any kind of move on her. He always wondered why he never got the same vibe from Milo but just figured he was more of a laid back kind of guy. Parker was beautiful and smart and a total bad ass CIA agent, but he was in no mood to get his face rearranged over a woman.
Cole and Parker spent the next hour drinking and sharing stories.
Parker never noticed the eyes that had been watching her from the moment Cole sat down next to her at the bar.
<> ~ <>
Garrett yanked open the mini fridge in the room with so much force it slammed into the wall, denting it with the handle.
He shoved aside the old fashioned bottles of Pepsi and 7UP and reached in and grabbed the complimentary bottle of Barceló Imperial Rum from the top shelf. Kicking the door closed with his foot, he unscrewed the cap and took a long swig.
All Garrett wanted to do after the woman at the hotel confirmed she had seen Milo there on several occasions over the years was to race back to the resort and apologize to Parker. All of the awful, ugly things he said to her played on a loop in his mind. The look on her face after she smacked him popped up every time he closed his eyes.
Kiss Kiss Page 93