“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s to never underestimate your father. I’ve seen him do things that someone with a heart would never do.” Her face held a grim, haunted expression. I nodded silently, not speaking again until arriving at a lovely park situated by a lake.
We got out and walked down to the water’s edge. Though only eight-thirty in the morning, people old and young alike splashed about in the crystal blue water. Boats, some towing skiers behind them, raced about the water. Smiles and laughter filled the countless faces of people celebrating the hot summer’s morning by the lakeside. One ambitious family stood cooking breakfast over a small campfire. The scent of bacon permeated the air and drove a nearby dog crazy as it tugged fruitlessly on its leash trying to reach the food.
I watched a couple of toddlers digging holes in the sand with spoons, their diapers sagging low with lake water. “She’d be three years old now…if she were alive, I mean.”
“I know.” Birdie pulled at my arm, encouraging me to keep moving. Her eyes danced about the lake and shore, watching for anything unusual. Growing up, whenever Birdie wanted to talk with me in private she’d take me to the park, “away from listening ears,” she’d say. When I was young, I thought she was being silly. As I got older, I grew to know exactly what she meant. Daddy had spies everywhere, including some household staff.
“A lot’s happened since that day,” I said, slipping my sandals off and dipping my toes into the cool water. “Daddy’s broke, you know. I don’t think you need to worry about him having people spy on us.”
Birdie stopped dead. “Broke? Is that what he told you?” I turned to see her face tight with anger.
“It’s true. After he found me at my aunt’s home in Mexico, he dragged me back to the States. The place he lived in was a dump, and that’s being generous.”
“Mentiras,” she muttered. “You should have stayed with your family in Mexico.”
“He threatened to hurt my aunt if I didn’t leave with him,” I admitted.
“That sounds like the spawn of Satan,” she grumbled.
“He took me straight to a disgusting apartment over a garage in some dirty little town, claiming he had little money left. He said it was because the people who killed Bill and Alan had stolen most of our money. He promised me if I helped him I could live my life free from him and his business.” I stopped and looked into her safe brown eyes. Eyes that would never betray me, never manipulate me. “He promised me my freedom, Birdie.”
“And you believed him?” She tugged her oversized bag up onto her shoulder. “Mentiras,” she repeated, “all lies.”
She headed farther down the beach, shaking her head and talking aloud to herself. “This is not how it’s supposed to be. He should have been dead by now. The doctors gave him six weeks. It’s been over three years.” Her voice was deep with despair. “I should have known he would somehow cheat death.”
As bitterness filled Birdie’s voice, I noted that her beautiful black hair had turned completely silver in just three years, and the creases around her eyes had deepened. They carried a heaviness, as if she held the world on her shoulders.
“Lilah, you’ve turned a blind eye to your father and his deeds for too long,” Birdie said sternly. “You’re no longer a child. Think. Has he ever kept his word to you?”
I hung my head in despair. She was right. Deep down I’d always known Daddy wouldn’t keep his word about giving me my freedom, but I was foolish and desperate. Of course he wasn’t about to allow me my freedom.
“He’s using you, Lilah. He’s claiming his funds are running low, only what he really wants is to see these people dead.” I shook my head at her. “Listen to me! Your father only let you think this was about money so that you’d help him. But the truth is he needed medical treatment and didn’t want to worry about you running away again while he was gone. That’s why he gave you this assignment, all in hopes of keeping you busy. He also hoped you’d gain their trust, making it easier on him when he came to town seeking his revenge. He plans on murdering them.”
I stumbled back. “No. He wants their money. Birdie, I know you’ve never cared for my father, but it’s true. You should have seen the apartment we lived in before I move to Port Fare,” I explained, although doubt seeped in with each word. “He set up a bank account with some money in it so I could pretend to need help with investing. One of the cops has a gift when it comes to investing,” I said weakly, kicking at the sand.
“Child,” she shook her head. “I know all about the apartment over the garage. But did you know that before he came to get you in Mexico, he lived in a penthouse suite in Los Angeles?”
“That’s not true. He’s been living in the apartment above the garage for over two years. Payo told me himself,” I said.
“Payo works for your father. He told you what he was ordered to tell you. His wife, Maria, tells me otherwise. Your father has money, if the fancy clinic he’s checked himself into is any indication.” She handed me her cell phone containing pictures of my father lying by a pool, eating a steak. In another picture, two young women were wrapped around him and he held a margarita in his hand. There was no oxygen tank in the photos. Either the tank was a ruse for my benefit or his health was actually improving with his stay at the so-called clinic.
“Is his illness a fake then?” I pushed the phone back to her.
“No. He does have emphysema, but this clinic in Mexico he’s at gave him a cocktail of drugs that seemed to put him in remission at first. He was growing stronger every day, and was scheduled to be released next week.”
“Next week?”
“Don’t worry, he’s taken a turn for the worse and they are back to square one. He’ll be there for a while,” she assured me, putting her phone away. “Maria said he has to go back on the oxygen again and he’s pretty angry about that.”
“He’s in Mexico. He told me the clinic was in Switzerland,” I murmured softly.
“Another lie. He didn’t want to be far away in case you decided to run again.”
I stood shaking in the sand. No, this can’t be. Harry Dreser played his own daughter. He lectured me about supporting the family, standing with the family, over and over, for weeks on end, until I relented.
“He’s not after just their money; he wants them dead, Lilah. Why else would he want the code to Captain Gatto’s home?” I looked at her blankly, having no idea what she meant or how she knew that.
Birdie took my hand and led me to a deserted stretch of shore. “This cop, this Captain Gatto, he’s well known and hated amongst the drug cartels. If your father were to kill him, it would put him in favor with the cartels again. He’s hoping to pick up his smuggling efforts. Your father blames Gatto for your brothers’ deaths more than anyone else. He plans to kill Gatto in his own home, and it will not be pretty. He plans a slow death for him, Lilah. Slow and ugly. And he’s hoping to do it where Gatto feels the safest, in his own home. Your father learned that Gatto has a phobia about intruders, and he thinks this will make for the ultimate revenge. Your father’s a depraved and twisted man. Alan didn’t fall far from the tree.” The look of hatred on her face was undeniable.
“May . . . maybe what you’re saying is a little jaded by your hatred for him,” I said, knowing it wasn’t true. But he was my father, my flesh and blood. How could he do this to me?
She shook her head. “Maria’s been watching out for me, learning what she can. She overheard him talking on the phone to a cartel member. He told the man that by September, Gatto would be dead and he’d be back in the game.”
I stood there, dumbfounded. Could she be right? Was that my father’s real intention here? Daddy would never ask me to go along with murder, would he?
She walked a few steps before returning to the water’s edge. “There’s something else.”
Oh good, because all of this just isn’t enough.
“Your mother learned the truth about your father right before she died. I always knew he was up to
no good, but she was the one who found the files.” Her voice softened as she spoke of my mother.
“Files, what files?”
“About his business. Not just about the illegal drugs, she’d suspected that already, but of people he’d. . . killed. People who owed him money but hadn’t paid, or those he suspected of double crossing him.
“There were three pages of names, Lilah. Your mother was devastated. She confronted him. He lied at first, but she wouldn’t let up and he finally admitted it was all true. She demanded a divorce, but he wouldn’t hear of it. In his own warped way he loved your mother. He suggested they escape for a while, just the two of them with no distractions, to try and work through their troubles.”
“Yes, the island getaway.” I remembered the day she left. It was the last time I’d seen her alive. She slipped into … A sick feeling washed over me. “Please tell me her death was an accident.”
“I don’t know, child. I have my suspicions. Your mother was very good about monitoring her diabetes. It’s strange to me that she could slip into a diabetic coma so easily. But that’s only a suspicion. I’ve no proof.” She wiped tears from my cheeks I hadn’t noticed.
“Before she left on her trip, she copied the files and gave one to me, with instructions to go to the police if anything happened to her. Her desire was to protect you.” She paused. “Instead of telling the police, I made two copies of the file. One I had sealed and delivered to my lawyer with the instructions to open them if I were to die or end up missing. The other I locked in a safety deposit box at a bank. The bank was to give the box’s contents to the FBI if I did not make a yearly visit. I told your father about the copy sent to the lawyer, and I told him there was another copy that would be released if I died, but I didn’t tell him who had it.
“I made a deal with the devil that day, Lilah, and I’m not proud of it. I promised to never reveal the contents if he let me raise you until you were eighteen. He was livid, but he had no choice.”
Her words blew me away, yet it all made sense now. All the arguments they had and never once had he fired her. I assumed it was because he didn’t want to be bothered with taking care of me.
My head spun. My knees gave out as I sank onto the sand. I buried my face in my hands. Birdie sat slowly next to me, holding me in her arms.
“I’m sorry to dump all of this on you at once, child.” She stroked my back as she spoke. “But we cannot change the past. What’s done is done. It does no good to dwell for too long or we can never move on.”
“My life’s good now, Birdie. I’ve met a wonderful man. He reminds me a little of Mami. He’s so sweet and kind, and has the gentlest heart. I don’t deserve him, really.”
“Hush, child. Don’t talk like that. You deserve a good man. Did you not walk away from the life your father offered you? That took a lot of courage to turn down all that money and power. There are many who would not.”
“Instead I promised to help my father steal back our money, that isn’t really ours, and apparently help him kill three innocent people.” I scooped up a handful of sand and threw it. “Birdie, what am I going to do? What if he hires hitmen to kill them? How can I possibly stop that?”
“This is personal, Lilah. He’ll not put this off to hitmen. He wants revenge. Warped or not, he loves his family, and he misses his sons terribly. He wants to watch those responsible for killing them suffer. You must warn them.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a manila envelope, handing it to me.
“Here are some photos I’ve gathered of your father in his various disguises. Give them to the police. I’ve also included a copy of the information from the safety deposit box. Your father’s in a clinic in Laraso, Mexico. Sorry, I don’t know the address. Warn them the town’s known for its corrupt police force.”
She cupped my face in her hands. “You are good at hiding, Lilah. Come up with a plan, a last resort, if you will. He’ll try to find you, like he did three years ago. Please, child, come up with a plan. Tell no one. Trust no one. Not even me.”
I took a sheet of paper from my purse and jotted down the phone number to my landline, wiping fruitlessly at my tears.
“Here. Daddy doesn’t know about this phone. You can call me anytime.” Reluctantly she took the paper and slipped it in into her wallet.
There was no way out of the mess I’d allowed myself to be dragged into. I was fooling myself to think I could have Cole in my life. I fell into Birdie’s arms and cried for everything I’d just lost.
Chapter 20
Cole
“Booker and I’ve been talking. We’re going to finish the upstairs of my house soon.” I spoke to Seth and Maggie’s reflection in rearview mirror. They piled into the back seat at the airport, and I’d done all the talking ever since. They sat wrapped in each other’s arms, whispering and smiling.
I missed Lilah even more now. I had a message on my cell phone yesterday morning from her. She sounded frantic, saying her father had taken a turn for the worse and she had to fly out to see him right away. I tried calling back, but she didn’t answer. Either her phone died, or she was busy with her dad. Either way, I didn’t get to talk to her.
“We decided to put in a disco ball and lighted floors for all the wild bachelor parties we’re going to throw,” I said casually.
“Sounds good,” answered Seth, ogling Mags.
Yeah, he didn’t hear me, not that I blamed him. Wonder if they’d hear if I announced my plan to ask Lilah to marry me? What a fool I’d been, wrapping myself up in my work and forgetting to live my life. Lilah filled my soul. She made me happy, happier than I ever remembered being. I loved her spark, her energy, her crazy spontaneity.
I turned into the driveway, almost running into Booker’s hideous POC Mobile. I chuckled, remembering when Book’s grandfather Samuel dubbed the car the ‘Piece of Crap,’ POC for short, back in my college days. I’m sure Booker had no idea the name would stick. The thing needed to be replaced big time.
“What are you doing here? Didn’t you have a stakeout tonight?” I got out of my car and popped the trunk to gather Maggie and Seth’s luggage. They remained in the back huddled together like . . . well, newlyweds. Booker came over and grabbed two suitcases.
“Have they come up for air at all?” he said, glancing sideways into the car.
“Not much,” I chuckled. “Is that why you had to work tonight and asked me to pick them up? You knew how uncomfortable the car ride from the airport would be.”
“No,” he said soberly. “We need to talk.” I noticed the file tucked under his right arm as we went into the house.
“I’ll get the door,” Seth said, rushing past us. “Sorry.” He unlocked it, and Booker and I followed him and Maggie into the family room.
We set the luggage down and Booker stepped over to the counter. “Hate to rain on the afterglow of your honeymoon, but I’ve some bad news.”
“How bad?” asked Seth, trepidation tightening his face.
“Real bad.” Booker pulled out a photo and slid it onto the table. Seth and Maggie stepped over at the same time. I beat them both to it.
There lay a picture of Lilah, at least I think it was her. I picked it up. She looked drastically different, with way too much makeup on her pretty face and her hair was smoothed out, no curls. She also wore a dark business suit, definitely not Lilah’s typical edgy style. The only thing the same were the eyes, and of course her beautiful smile.
“What’s going on, Book? Why do you have this weird photo of Lilah? Is she hurt?”
He took a deep breath. I’d seen that expression on his face before. Tight eyes, set jaw. Anger, mixed with angst.
“Remember my mentioning that she looked familiar?” I nodded slowly. “That’s because I’d only seen pictures of her with her hair and makeup done up to the nines. I didn’t recognize her without all that garbage on her face. The girl’s almost as good as her dad with disguises.” Booker pointed at the first picture. “The eyes, they’re the same. That’s what
I recognized. Then the other day at the hospital she let it slip that she was from Arizona and it clicked. I had to be sure so I took her fingerprints and ran them through the FBI—”
“You took Lilah’s fingerprints?” I bit out. “When? How?” There was no way he asked her, which meant he’d been snooping around.
“Remember when I gave her the can of Pepsi in the ER? Well, she left it on the desk, and I took it and lifted the prints,” he said, as if it were no big deal he’d investigated my girlfriend.
“So who is she?” Seth demanded.
“Delilah Lopez Dreser.” My chest tightened as Lilah’s name spilled off Booker’s lips, her real name. Maggie gasped, turning pale. Seth wrapped an arm around her protectively as she sat. He, too, looked distraught. I dropped into the chair next to her.
“I didn’t expect to find any information. If you remember, her brother’s prints were erased from the files. But we got lucky. She has a passport. She’s the only one in the family who does actually, well, a legitimate one, which in itself’s a little weird.”
“Are you a hundred percent sure?” My life went from perfect to an utter disaster in a New York minute.
Booker came over to me. “I’m sorry, Cole. I would’ve waited to tell you without everyone else around, but she just got back in town and we need to have a game plan. We can’t wait.”
I sat up. “She’s back in town? When?”
“Her plane landed a couple hours ago. She went straight to her apartment and hasn’t come out.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I’m real sorry.”
“So she doesn’t know we’re onto her? What’s her record look like?” Seth asked, rummaging through the stack of papers in her file. Lilah’s file.
“As far as we know, she doesn’t have a clue we’re onto her. We should have the element of surprise going for us there. Her record’s clean. No arrests, no outstanding warrants, not so much as a speeding ticket. Of course, with the kind of money her dad has, that’s not a surprise. He’s probably paid dearly to have her records cleaned up like he did her brothers.”
Unbelievable: The Port Fare Series Book Two Page 16