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Will directed a dark look at West, but there was a twist to his mouth as if he was also fighting a smirk. That was West, though. Cold, no-nonsense, and annoying as hell, but a person always knew where they stood with him. Most people wanted to strangle him. Will was one of the few Charlie had met who found West amusing.
“I came here five months ago at the request of a friend who needed to leave for a family emergency,” Will started with a sigh. “The agreement was that I would be the main doctor who worked at the clinic and I would take over a handful of hospice patients he had.” He paused and shrugged one shoulder. “The clinic work is similar to what I’ve seen in other places that I’ve worked. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Same with the hospice patients. All have terminal cancer, and my job is largely to keep them as comfortable as I can in between visits with the oncologist.”
“None of this is sounding all that crazy,” Kairo teased lightly.
Will took another swallow of his beer, finishing it off, and Charlie felt his body bracing for the crazy that would inevitably fall from Will’s lips.
“One of the cancer patients doesn’t have any family left, so I’ve found myself spending more time with him. It was just idle chatting at first. Something to keep the loneliness at bay.” Will glared at his beer bottle. “But then he told me about his wife, who passed away ten years ago.” He paused and looked up at Charlie. “You know about Los Desaparecidos?”
Charlie nodded. “The estimated thirty thousand people the military dictatorship made disappear during the late seventies and early eighties.”
“Along with more than five hundred children who were either kidnapped or born to imprisoned mothers,” Will added.
“Fuck me,” Kairo whispered in horror.
“Kids? They took kids?” Ed demanded.
A bitter smirk twisted up Will’s lips. “Do you think they just released the woman they kidnapped after they discovered they were pregnant?” He shook his head. “No, they were allowed to give birth and then were likely executed. The babies were raised by military families or given up for adoption, with most of the families knowing where those babies were coming from.”
“How does your patient’s wife fit into this? Was she one of the kids?” Charlie asked softly.
Will shook his head. “No, the wife’s sister and brother-in-law both disappeared. The sister was six months pregnant at the time. Remains for both were located several years ago, but his wife died searching for any clue as to what happened to the baby.”
West leaned forward, his head cocked to the side. “And what? You somehow linked this baby to Benicio Perez?” West’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Yeah, we talked to Francisco and found out he was there trying to meet with Perez. You think he’s related to your patient’s dead wife.”
Edison snorted. “No fucking way. That baby would have to be in his fifties by now. Benicio looks like he’s thirty at most.”
West flipped him off. “Fine. Then his dad.”
“Actually, we think that Benicio Perez’s mom is my patient’s niece,” Will cut in, stopping their bickering before it could escalate any further. “She knew her sister was having a girl. Not a boy. And yes, we estimate her age to be fifty-four, making her the right age to be Benicio Perez’s mother.” He sighed and placed his empty bottle on the coffee table. “Carlos is dying. It’s his final wish—to complete his wife’s search for the truth. But the only way to confirm what happened to the missing baby is to get a DNA sample from Benicio Perez.”
“I’m gonna take a stab in the dark—Perez said no,” Charlie guessed.
That earned him a glare, but it didn’t feel like all of Will’s ire was directed at him. Some of that anger was saved for Benicio himself.
“That’s an understatement. Benicio Perez is the son of Lorenzo Perez, a powerful right-wing member of the Chamber of Deputies, but he’s got aspirations for the presidency. He’s part of the new movement to whitewash history and even erase claims that Los Desaparecidos even happened. It’s disgusting.”
“Particularly if it turns out that he married one of the children stolen in that era,” Charlie grumbled.
“Exactly. Benicio is following in the footsteps of his father with the same ideas. They can’t afford to have any possible links to Los Desaparecidos, even if it is entirely by accident.”
“Did you contact Benicio? Tell him about your suspicions?” Kairo inquired.
Will nodded, and Charlie’s stomach sank. “I did. I tried to appeal to his respect for history and the truth. I tried to appeal to his sense of compassion for a dying man. I even promised to keep the results a secret. Only my friend and I would know the truth. He flatly refused me.”
