“Alonso Garcia is like the modern-day Pablo Escobar,” I snapped. “Half the fucking world knows what he looks like.”
Although I still wasn’t convinced that was as far as the explanation went. I didn’t think Cat’s recognition of Garcia was all that simple, but that was a giant leap away from me suspecting her of murder.
“Does this file say anything about her stalker?” I challenged.
Cris frowned. “Stalker?”
“An ex-boyfriend,” I explained. “One of the psycho, controlling types. Had some anger issues too. When she ended it, he flipped the fuck out. Wouldn’t leave her alone, kept following her everywhere she went.”
“Did you get his name?” Ace asked.
I shook my head. “She didn’t want to tell me because she thought I’d look into it.” Which I absolutely would have. It still grated that she’d refused to tell me. “But she’s convinced he would have followed her up here if he learned of her location. That’s why she’s been so close-mouthed about her past and trying to stay off the grid. She didn’t want him tracking her down.”
“She’s so sure he’d hurt her?” This from Mom.
I nodded. “She broke up with him because an argument one night escalated and ended with him hitting her. After that, she told him she never wanted to see him again, but he wouldn’t let it go.”
“So, what are you saying?” Nico asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You think her stalker could be involved in the murder or something?”
“I have no idea. Not without knowing the guy’s name.” I tossed the folder back to Bryce. “But tell me that doesn’t look like some sketchy ass police work. Even I can tell those reports are off.”
Ace leaned forward. “Falsified? You think she’s being set up?”
“Why?” Roxy asked, baffled.
I shrugged. “All I know is Cat’s not capable of anything that thing says.” I turned to Ace. “And that’s me knowing her like you know Rox.” My gaze met Cris’s. “Or you knowing your wife.” Then Nico. “And like you know the mother of your child.”
They all took simultaneous breaths of understanding.
Yeah. Now, they fucking got it.
“He’s right,” Bryce interjected, head lowered over the folder. “These reports read like more than one person filled them out. And with each case, there’s almost no eye witness statements. Top it off, I’ve never seen so many sparse details in a murder investigation.”
Dad pushed off the wall, raising his hands. “Okay. Let’s assume for a moment that Luka is right. Who would have the power to falsify police reports?”
Cris rubbed his chin in thought. “Alonso Garcia, for one.”
“Or anyone in the cartel, for that matter,” Nico tacked on.
“Politicians,” Roxy threw out.
Jasmine shook head. “Really, anyone with enough money could do that.”
“Or another cop,” Bryce muttered absently.
My head snapped up. Everyone shot looks at each other.
Oh, Christ.
Were we all thinking the same thing? I hoped so, yet I didn’t. Because the implications could be disastrous. And there went my instincts again, pinging all over the damn place.
My gaze flew to Ace. “Run the name Javier Ortega through every database you can access.”
Ace pulled his laptop out of the black bag he carried around with him everywhere. “Give me a few minutes.”
A lieutenant could sure as hell have the power to alter official documents. And if it wasn’t him, it could be someone in his department. Either way, something stank of corruption, and I wasn’t going to let Cat be framed for something she didn’t do. Fuck that.
My attention focused on Rome lying on the hospital bed, eyes closed, with a breathing tube in his mouth. My badass ex-sniper twin, who had been viewed by many of our special ops brothers as immortal—“unkillable” as they’d liked to say—was now relying on fucking machines to keep air in his lungs. To keep his heart beating. That was messing with my head in a bad way.
Twenty-six minutes later, Ace cleared his throat. I waited for the hammer to drop with growing impatience settling in my stomach like a lead balloon.
“The guy’s record with the department is pretty clean,” Ace said. “Made lieutenant two years ago. Earned a few distinctions over the years. But his sealed juvenile record was where it got interesting.”
“Interesting how?” I ground out.
“Talk about a rap sheet of crimes, and these aren’t all petty. He was popped for assault on multiple occasions and spent some time in juvie. Possession of a controlled substance. And his girlfriend died under suspicious circumstances when he was seventeen. Her death was eventually ruled an accidental suicide, but according to this report, Javier Ortega was the last person to see her alive.”
Son of a bitch.
Tension rose in the room as the puzzle was slowly pieced together.
Ace released a heavy exhale. “He’s been straight since joining the department.”
“Or he just made friends in high places that have helped cover his tracks,” I sneered.
“Either way, it’s curious that he was the one who provided this information,” Dad murmured. To Bryce, he asked, “Was he the only person in the department you spoke to?”
Bryce ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “No. The first person I got ahold of was an officer who said he’d look into it for me. But he wasn’t the one who called me back.”
Cris straightened in his chair. “Ortega called you?”
Bryce nodded. “He said she was a person of interest, so he noticed when her name was run through the system by the officer.”
Or he’d just been keeping tabs to see if Cat’s name popped up anywhere, hoping it would lead to her location.
“Then wouldn’t it have made more sense for Ortega to pass your number along to the detectives in charge of the murder investigation, rather than calling you personally?” Nico asked Bryce.
“That’s how it usually works,” Bryce said in agreement. “Information typically comes from the lead detective on the case.”
Something Cat said the night she first told me about this stalker ex-boyfriend flashed in my mind. “She implied that her ex was someone with influence,” I told everyone. “And money. It was why she didn’t want to tell me who he was. She was afraid of my name showing up on his radar.”
“Has he always lived in Mexico City?” Cris asked.
I frowned. What did that have to do with anything?
After only seconds of typing on his keys, Ace froze. His face paled as his eyes flew over his computer screen and then met mine. “No, he hasn’t. He grew up in the town right next to Cat’s.”
I fell against the wall, as if my whole body had suddenly deflated.
This guy knew exactly who Cat was. He knew her. Nothing else made sense.
“Hold on.” Gia pushed off the wall, away from Mom and Dad’s paternal embrace. “You’re saying that this lieutenant could very well be Cat’s stalker ex-boyfriend, and a Brooklyn police detective called him directly, asking about her?”
My eyes shot wide at where she was going with this. “He knows where she is.”
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
I’d been the one to ask Bryce to look into the situation, to see what he could find out about Cat. I was the one responsible for her name popping up in the system at all.
“I led him right to her,” I breathed in realization.
Ortega could have already been looking for her. And she was somewhere in the city all by herself. Without protection.
That was the moment my entire world came to a screeching halt.
And then…it fucking exploded.
I was going to leave.
I had been prepared to throw all my stuff in a plastic bag and run headlong into the night, out of Brooklyn as fast as possible. As far away from Luka and the Rossettis as I could.
Then…Luka told me he loved me.
And I was weaker than I tho
ught.
Because a stronger woman wouldn’t have let that shake her. She would have kept his best interests in mind, which was her absence from his life. She would have left anyway, confession of love or not. The strongest individuals were the ones who understood sacrifices and didn’t shirk in making them.
I wasn’t strong.
It seemed there were some sacrifices I wasn’t tough enough to withstand.
Hence why I was packing a bag to take back to the hospital, instead of back out on the run.
You know that eerie feeling when you’re alone somewhere and you just know you’re being watched? Some people might think it’s all in a person’s head, that they’re being paranoid, or their imagination is getting the best of them. But I’ve learned to pay very close attention to that sensation over the years, especially since I’d been in Brooklyn.
Which was why I knew I wasn’t alone when I came down from the apartment and entered Luka’s gym.
Someone is in here.
The security lights that were left on 24/7 illuminated the corners of the weight room, but the rest was cast in shadow. I clutched the strap of the bag I had slung over my shoulder tighter as I navigated around heavy metal dumbbells and machines. I hadn’t even been here that long, had I? I’d only come to collect clean clothes for Luka and myself and then I was headed back to the hospital. Twenty or thirty minutes of being separated from him wasn’t enough time for something bad to happen.
But clearly, there was no end to my naivete.
“My sweet little Catalina.”
Pressure like I’d never felt before squeezed my heart until my entire chest ached from the strain. The instinct to close my eyes and pretend it was another one of my nightmares was strong, but I knew this monster wasn’t going to disappear when I opened them again. I wouldn’t find myself in bed next to Luka. His arms wouldn’t be there to comfort me when the tears started to flow.
He wasn’t here to exorcise my demons.
A form slinked from the shadows, revealing his dark head first, and then the rest of his formidable figure.
I sucked in a breath, inhaling subtle notes of…cinnamon.
Dread, dread. All-consuming dread.
“Javier.”
Some women visualized what the man of their dreams looked like?
Well, this was the man of my nightmares.
His appearance surprised me, as it was a complete contrast from his usual suave, put-together look. He’d always been a very handsome man, but there was a particular carelessness about him right then that I’d never seen before. His clothing was wrinkled, shirt untucked, his hair was in disarray, and his face was covered in unkempt, uncharacteristic facial hair. As for his eyes, they were a little bloodshot, but mostly…
Relieved.
Almost comforted as they locked onto me. As if I was alleviating some kind of pain in him. He’d actually once believed we were going to be married. Not that he’d ever even asked me. There had never been a grand, romantic proposal. In fact, there was never any romance between us whatsoever. He’d just woken up one day and started calling me his fiancé, assuming for some reason or another that I would want to be his wife.
“You’re just as beautiful as ever. Maybe even more so.”
The most cunning monsters out there knew how to cleverly disarm their victims before attacking. Giving them a false sense of security so they’d lower their guards, and then the evil would strike. That’s how this man had managed to reel me in in the first place. His sweet words. His flattering compliments. Kind gestures. He’d fooled me in every possible way. He’d fooled everyone.
But the true nature of the beast could never stay hidden for long.
He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off me. They kept raking over me, head to toe, up and down. Up and down. Like they were on some kind of loop. The most alarming part was that they were…soft. Not hard with malice or glinting with evil.
But those eyes had tricked me one too many times.
This man was the foremost expert at deception. How he managed to bury his innate nature so far beneath the surface and call it forth at will, I would never know. That was the true mark of a sociopath, wasn’t it?
“I’ve missed you so much, mi reina,” he whispered.
He’d always called me that. His queen. He used to say that one day we would be on top together. He would rule an empire and I would be right by his side. At the time, I’d thought that talk was no different than what all of us who’d come from nothing would say. That one day we would be rich, live on some gorgeous beach, and have everything we could ever want. It was what kept us going in the dark days. The notion that the future would be better. Easier.
But, as I’d found out later, those had been Javier’s exact intentions.
He wanted it all.
And he’d had zero limits to the lengths he was willing to go to acquire it.
“How could you leave me like that?” he asked in a pleading voice. It was almost pitiful. “Without any word at all? One day, you were just gone. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
Sometimes, he almost acted like he really did care for me. And maybe, in some strange, other dimensional realm sort of way, he did. Or at least, he thought he did. But Javier Ortega didn’t know what love actually looked, sounded, or felt like.
“But gracias de Dios, I’ve finally found you,” he went on, smiling. “I knew I would. Because we are meant to be together, mi reina. I’ve told you all along that we are. And doesn’t this prove it? That we’ve been brought back together, over such a great distance? It’s fate, Catalina.”
God, this man was crazy.
For so long, it had been staring me right in the face and I hadn’t seen it.
I took a step back, gathering moisture in my mouth. “How did you find me?”
“It matters not how. Only that I did. And now you can return home with me, back where you belong. There, we will put all of this unpleasantness behind us.”
I shook my head and took another careful step back. If I acted too spooked, he might pounce before I could properly defend myself. “Javier, you need to listen to me. I’m not going back with you. We broke up. I don’t want to be with you. You need to leave right now.”
It was like I hadn’t even spoken.
He just kept coming, with a single-minded intensity, and I kept retreating.
“Nonsense, Catalina.” His voice was so smooth, so calm. A smokescreen. “Everyone gets led astray at one time or another in their lives. This has just been some misguided search for independence. Most people go through that at your age. It’s entirely normal.”
As if he had even the most basic understanding of what normal meant.
“This isn’t Mexico, Javier. You have no jurisdiction here. You can’t get away with kidnapping like you can down there.”
He looked at me like I was the insane one. “Why would you think I’d kidnap you? I’m simply bringing you home. Back to your family and friends.”
“Part of my family is missing.” Which he damn well knew because he damn well had everything to do with Luciana’s disappearance. “And I’ve made new friends here.”
There was the smallest crack in his mask when his anger peeked out. But he was quick to shut it down. “These supposed friends don’t know you, Catalina. Not like I do. They don’t know what’s best for you. I do.” He huffed, waving his arm around the room. “Look at you. You’re living in a shoebox-sized apartment above a shitty gym in a dirty city. When you have more money and jewels than you could ever imagine waiting for you back home. Luxuries, mi reina, the likes of which we always dreamed of having as children. I can give you all of that. Surely, you cannot prefer frugality to opulence.”
The words were out of my mouth before I had the wisdom to swallow them.
“I prefer love to abuse.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “And you think you’ve found that here? With a man who collars you? Who doesn’t mind that you’ve been taking your clothes off for stra
ngers? A man with dirt beneath his fingernails and blood caked on his knuckles? When I can drape you in silks and decorate you with diamonds?”
Which was exactly what he thought love was: materialistic value. I’d lost my virginity to him, so he thought that made me his forever. That because I gave that to him, he owned me for the rest of my life. Neither of us had much growing up, so he became very proprietary of whatever possessions he did collect.
I was just one of them.
Another decoration to reflect the wealth he’d amassed.
“Your lies don’t work on me anymore,” I said with more confidence than I thought myself capable of.
He actually had the nerve to act like I’d hurt him. “You think I’m lying when I tell you I love you? Mi reina, you know I would do anything for you.”
More like do anything to own me.
“I’m prepared to give you the world,” he added emphatically. “As long as you’re with me, you’ll never want for anything ever again.”
Except for the one thing I actually did want.
Luka.
That, and getting Luciana back.
I shook my head. “You’ve never known what I want. I would live in a shoebox-sized apartment with him over your bed of blood money any day.”
His mouth tightened as he took a lurching step in my direction. Bolstering my courage, I quickly snagged a ten-pound dumbbell off the nearest rack and raised it above my head.
He stopped. “There is no need for that, Catalina.”
“I think there’s great need for it.”
His head tilted to the side at an unnatural angle that freaked me out. Closing his eyes, his jaw tightened as he released a rumbling grunt. Almost as if he were…fighting something. Restraining something.
Slowly, that expression cleared. His gaze returned to mine. “I was hoping we could resolve this in a civil fashion. I don’t like resorting to forceful measures.”
“Don’t you?”
“Not when it wastes time that I don’t have.” He glanced down at his watch. “And I’m sure someone is bound to come looking for you around this shithole eventually, so I’d rather not doddle.”
Glitter and Greed (Brooklyn Brothers #4) Page 28