I started to punch in her office extension and something stopped me. I got up and walked to the elevator and rode up to the fifth floor.
I stepped off the elevator and walked toward Edward’s door and her desk which sat just to the left. She was dressed in a lime-green scoop-neck top and a pants-suit. She was typing on the desktop with her back to me.
“Hi,” I said, leaning forward to rest my hand on her shoulder since there was no one around.
She swiveled in her chair and stared at me with an expression I hadn’t seen in five years. Actually, I’d never seen it. Even in those first days, there was a hint of smile and an undercurrent of amusement when I was around. Now there was nothing. It was as if she had never seen me before. Actually, it was colder than that. My hand stopped in the air.
She pushed herself back away from me.
“Mr. Edwards isn’t in yet. We can use his office. We need to talk.”
I was a little taken aback, but I couldn’t figure out what could possibly have created this Big Chill. Actually, I was the one who was supposed to be jealous and pissed off. But the more I thought about it, going into Edwards’ office for a private meet might make for an interesting morning.
I had hoped she’d go ahead of me so I could watch her undulate in those green trousers, but she gestured and I opened it and went inside with her following me. When I was midway inside I turned back to her. She stood there with her arms crossed over that amazing chest, in the universal – don’t touch me, don’t even think about it – gesture of feminine anger.
We just stared at each for a moment silently. Then:
“Don’t call me.”
“When?”
“Ever.”
“What?”
“Don’t call me at work. Don’t call me at home. Forget my personal number. I know you have to come up here to meet with Mr. Edwards, but don’t…let’s keep things professional. I don’t want any more personal communication with you.”
The words were in a flat, emotional monotone. She stared directly into my eyes and the emerald green in them had turned to ice.
I stretched my hands out to her and her shrinking back spoke volumes.
“Why, Myra? What’s going on here? What have I done?”
“Mr. Maitland, you heard what I said. I don’t want to talk to you. You are a smart man. I don’t want to see or hear from you unless it’s under a strictly professional setting. What’s hard to understand about that?”
“Why? Two nights ago we were friends – very good friends – and I thought we parted that way. Now you don’t want to see or talk to me. That doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t have to explain myself. I just don’t want to have anything more to do with you. That’s a woman’s prerogative. I hope you’re enough of a gentleman to accept that gracefully and leave me alone from here on.”
I dropped my hands to my sides.
“Of course, that’s your prerogative. I won’t attempt to contact or communicate with you if that’s what you really want. But-“
“That’s what I really want.”
She turned to walk out.
“I have enough respect for you to accede to your wishes. I just wish – that you had enough respect for me to tell me what happened. I thought we were friends. I guess I was wrong.”
She stopped with her hand on the doorknob.
“You couldn’t let it go, could you, Bill.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Still without turning back to face me:
“You think I’m a complete idiot?”
“I still don’t-“
She swung back around to face me and in place of the cold expression was fierce anger and something else.
“You know that the messages on my answering machine are timed, right?”
I couldn't think of the right words. Of any words
“The message was made while I was in the shower. While you were outside in the den. You heard it. You could have asked me about it. You could have ignored it. But, not you. You had to make me lie to you. Make me into just another lying slut, right?”
She kept staring at me.
“I knew I shouldn’t have. Even while I was doing it, I knew I was wrong. But I – I just stopped thinking for a few minutes. I could have asked you. But I knew I didn’t have the right to pry into your personal life.”
“That’s right, Bill. You didn’t have the right. We’re not married. We’re not engaged. We’re not going steady. We are two people who like – liked – each other. Inside and outside the bedroom. But that’s all.”
She took a deep breath and trembled.
“But since we’re over and done. Ask me. I’m know you’re dying to know.”
“I don’t-“
“ASK ME, DAMMIT!”
“Who is he? And what is he to you?”
“Tomas is a 34-year-old investment banker who works with one of the largest investment groups in Latin America. He has an office in Miami. He’s worth millions. We met in Miami three years ago. And we’ve been seeing each other off and on since then. He has lots of money and he likes spending it on me. I’ve been to some wonderful places with him.”
“So, he’s another friend. Like me?”
“Not JUST like you, but he’s a friend. A friend I love having sex with. He is great in bed. I’ve enjoyed doing the same things with him that I’ve loved doing with you. And if we’d been together longer, and I hadn’t thought it would hurt you, I would have told you that. So I lied to spare your feelings.”
She rubbed those luscious lips and said, “Don’t look at me that way, Bill, you self-righteous bastard. I’ve never asked and I never would what you do when you’re not with me. Because I have no claim on you. And you have no claim on me. What I do, and who I do it with, is not your concern.
“You’re right, Myra. I know that. But it’s hard to think about you that way because-“
She shook her head sadly.
“Because you’re still married in your head, Bill. Because in your mind, I’m going to turn into Debbie if you love me and you’ll be married again to another hot blonde and maybe have another child. And it will be as if all that pain never happened, won’t it?”
She stepped up to me until we were almost touching.
“But it will never happen. Because I’m not Debbie. I never will be Debbie. I don’t want to be Debbie. I don’t want to be married.”
“You tell yourself that, Myra, but if you’re honest, at least admit there is something going on under the surface between us.”
She looked down, then up at me and then raised her hand to gently rub along my jawline.
“Yes, I know there’s something there. There can’t be anything more than friendship, but there is. I knew I was taking a chance, but I wanted to be with you. And now what I was afraid of has happened. You can’t be just friends, Bill. It’s not in you.”
“We could try.”
“No. I did that once. With another guy, a good guy like you. I wound up driving him away and breaking his heart. And I hurt myself. I promised that I would never make that mistake again. And I didn’t, until you. Good guys are the ones that hurt you. I should have made myself stay away from you.
“But I didn’t. And now comes the hard part, Bill. I know you’re going to think I’m the ultimate bitch, but I’m doing this for you as well as myself.
“No discussion? No second chances.”
“No point, Bill. Whether you understand or not, I’m doing the right thing. You’ll be alright.”
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her. I expected her to resist. But she didn’t.
“I won’t bother you again, Myra, but I have to thank you. You made the last few months the hottest of my life. I screwed up so I can’t blame you. But I’ll never regret the time we spent together. I wish you luck, and if you ever need a friend, I’ll be around.”
As I walked away there was a funny sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I w
as going to miss her. But I could walk away without the feeling that something was trying to claw its way out of my guts, taking my heart with it.
Myra was hotter than should be legally allowed, but she wasn’t Debbie. Or Aline. If there was any good aspect to the break-up, it was that. I did have feelings for Myra and maybe they could have developed with time. But they weren’t in the ballpark of what I’d felt for Debbie or Aline.
I left Edwards’ office and walked back to the elevator and down to my office. Cheryl was back at her desk in front of mine.
“Oh, Good morning, Mr. Maitland. I noticed you’d been in and then left. Busy on personal matters?”
She smiled at me.
“Just wrapping some things up, Cheryl. I was enjoying an idyll, but everybody has to wake to the cold dawn eventually.”
She gave me a funny look.
“I know you don’t mean to, Mr. Maitland, but there are times when you can be – what is that expression – a riddle wrapped in an enigma.”
“Didn’t mean to. I just meant that it’s time to go back to work. Any chance I could get you to head down to the Starbucks and bring me back my usual?”
“Say please.”
But she grinned.
“Please.”
An hour later deep into paperwork, the phone rang and Cheryl said, “It’s him.”
“What did you do, Bill?”
“Be more specific.”
“Your favorite secretary is dragging around like her best friend died and she won’t say a word about it – or you. I repeat, what did you do?”
“Something stupid, but it was probably inevitable. You know she’s not meant for mortal men, don’t you?”
There was a long silence.
“I know. But I had hopes she was the one that might spackle some of the holes you’re still bleeding out of. Is there any chance? If I was 20 years younger and single, I’d grovel with the best of them for a second chance.”
“Thanks Dallas, but this one cuts to the bone. I don’t think groveling will help.”
“Okay. Are you going to be alright? You know you’ve got the worst luck with women of anyone in the Western world.”
“I think I’m finally growing scar tissue, Dallas. I’ll be alright. I’m already back to work.
CHAPTER NINETEEN: LIFE IS WHAT HAPPENED
November 15, 2005
Monday, 10 A.M.
Washington, D.C.
“Mr. Prentice, you have a call from Mr. Smith at State. Can you take it?”
“Put him on.”
“Jeremy, you got a minute?”
“Just about ten. There’s a section meeting in Villa Nueva’s office. Some new stuff out of Mexico. Looks like there’s another leak out of DEA or maybe the Joint Mex-US Drug Task Force in Tijuana. Keeping secrets down there is like trying to capture fog in your hands.”
“Good luck with that. But, just heard something that I thought you might want to know about.”
“Yeah?”
“You asked us to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary that might have any connection to the Mendoza situation, the Cartel and now this Maitland guy in Jacksonville.”
“You got something.”
“Something.”
“Like what.”
“That’s the thing, Jeremy. It’s – on the one hand kind of nebulous. On the other, it’s kind of mind-blowing.”
“Before I die of old age, tell me.”
“Well, we’ve turned the computer analysis programs loose on any communication between known Cartel sources with emphasis on Mendoza, the Cartel leaders, Maitland and the general situation involving a possible Cartel trial in the U.S. The programs are still running and there’s a little chatter about Maitland, but not much more than you’ve already gotten.
“So we thought we’d throw the net a little wider. We’ve had some of the most powerful programs on earth looking at communication in general into and out of the Jacksonville courthouse and we’re running backwards from five minutes ago through the past few weeks and we’re hoping to cover the last several months.”
“And?”
“We cross-referenced the search patterns to cover ANY known narco trafficking figures, terrorism links, known criminal organizations of any kind including the Mafia, South American drug financed armies, the Russians, Chinese and Japanese crime elements.
“When you throw a net that wide, you might not turn up anything worthwhile in 20 years, or you might do it in 20 minutes. So we weren’t expecting anything dramatic.. And then a few hours ago, something figuratively and literally ‘pinged’.”
“I will die of old age. I really believe that.”
“Does the name Leandro Rojas ring any bells with you?”
“Not…that can’t be-“
“Yeah, the Old Man.”
“How did a Columbian Bogey Man that a lot of people think is already dead wind up popping up on your communication grid?”
“A very good question. When his name comes up, ears always perk up so we started looking closer at the data. We cross referenced with the DEA, FBI, National Security, CIA, Army Intel. Turns out the old fart is very much alive, as best we can tell, and while he’s been laying low, he’s got his fingers in some very unsavory pies literally all over the globe.
“Turns out also that we believe one of his major bases is in Cali in Columbia. Now, he seems to have security that the Pentagon wouldn’t be ashamed of, so we couldn’t pick up any actual messages or chatter into or out of there.
“What we did pick up were several highly scrambled transmissions from Rojas’ base in Cali, into the Jacksonville Courthouse. Which means that-“
“Somebody in Rojas’ organization is using very sophisticated technology to chat with somebody in a small town American courthouse. Wonder what they were talking about?”
“Yeah, Jeremy, makes you wonder. But, and you won’t believe this, it gets better.”
“How?”
“There aren’t only messages coming out of Rojas’ base to the Courthouse. There are messages originating in the courthouse and sent to Cali.”
“So Cali is calling Jacksonville, and Jacksonville is calling back.”
“Yeah. But, even that isn’t what’s really so mind-blowing.”
“That would be mind-blowing enough.”
“I know, but think about it. The Rojas organization has security that rivals most governments around the world. No one can just pick up the phone and dial the Rojas main number and ask for an operator. There are a thousand electronic hurdles, barriers and walls to go through, just to get somebody in the general area of the main headquarters.”
But these calls went straight through the maze. No clearance, no checks, no passwords, no NOTHING. For all we know Rojas could have picked up the phone and taken the calls. Who has the clout to do that?”
“Hmmmm?”
“That’s all? Hmmmm?
“I don’t even know what to think, at this point. It’ll take some time to sink in.”
“Well, I’m only an analysis drone and not involved in the upper reaches of policy and planning, but even I wonder if this might be a pipeline, an opening, into one of the most powerful criminal organizations on the planet. The Old Man has got people deeper inside some governments like China and Japan than we do. There are places they don’t whisper his name like you’d avoid saying the name of a demon out loud because it might draw down evil forces.
“Jeremy? You still there?”
“Yeah, here. Just thinking. I know how big this might be, but it blindsided me. This was the last thing I expected to hear. It’s just – off the radar. What could Rojas have to do with the Cartel, Maitland, the Mendoza trial? What possible interest could he have in it? Any of it.
“Rojas is a major player in the global drug trade, Smith, but I’ve never heard of any direct dealings, or any shooting going on between the Cartel and Rojas’ people. They run separate, and clearly demarcated business zones.”
“Borders s
hift, Jeremy, business alliances are broken and reformed. Rojas is a businessman, even though his business usually involves blood and broken bones and death. Something may have come up that’s drawn him into the Mendoza trial. And because this guy Maitland seems like he may play a part in that trial, it could explain the communications.”
“Yeah, it makes something else that’s puzzled me begin to make sense. The Cartel according to some communications we’ve intercepted has put out the word to leave Maitland and his family strictly alone. Especially since it seems like there’s a real chance the trial may move down there. Everything we know about the Cartel leaders indicate Maitland and his family would be in their cross hairs. Not given a pass.
“But if Rojas had put out the word that Maitland was under his protection, even the Cartel might have second thoughts about going up against the Old Man.”
“There’s one big hole in this theory, though, Jeremy.”
“I know. Why the HELL would Rojas care about a small town State Attorney. Assistant State Attorney at that. I can’t get my head around that.”
“Maybe he’s the Old Man’s illegitimate son?”
“Now wouldn’t that be a Lifetime Movie of the Week? Too bad it never works out that wonderfully. Look, Smith, thanks for this, even though it’s going to drive me crazy. Keep up the monitoring and the guy can’t have better resources than the U.S. Government. There’s got to be some way to crack his communications. Keep looking. And if anything else along these lines breaks, reach me. I’ll be moving around because these Mexican fuckers are slippery, dangerous assholes. But I want to know if anything else happens. Okay?”
“Consider it done. Only, I have to ask, why not have Homeland pick Maitland up, take him off to an interrogation site, and just ASK him what’s going on. If its innocent – and we both know there’s no way in hell it can be – he’ll just tell you. If not, between drugs and waterboarding and a few other tricks, you’ll get it out of him”
“You ever do any offshore fishing, Smith?”
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