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“Yes.” Is a whisper.
“The problem is he made the money to buy this house with my family’s cocaine. I believe, technically, that makes this house ours.”
Her hands are grasped in her lap tightly, and her knuckles turn white at my words.
I offer her a small smile. “Now, we have many homes in the world. We are not, how do you say? Blessed. Those homes were not given to us by anyone. Through hard work, long hours, killing many people, and willing to do things others are not,weearned our homes.”
A gasp escapes her.
“Mrs. Jimenez, I want to make it clear we do not do this indiscriminately. While I would have no problem painting this room with your blood, it would bring attention down on us. There’s no missing my arrival here. Nor the fact we’ve been in this area twice to retrieve our cocaine that your son stole. So, when I have to kill you for the sins of your son—it’s going to be a very quiet death. I promise you that. Perhaps it will be no more than a pillow over your face until you stop struggling. Maybe a poison slipped into your food resulting in what will look like a heart attack.” I list the ways I’m considering killing her.
Tears fall down her face.
“Those are the ways the doctors will believe it was a natural death after a long life.” She’s only fifty-two but her file spelled out a rough life. “Only you and your son will know for sure your son killed you. Have no doubt, it might be at my hands, but it’s only because your son is a naughty boy. I’m going to leave. My hope is never to see you again. This is a big world, there are hundreds of other ways both dirty as fuck and legit to make money. Tell your son to find another way to do it. No interfering with or hijacking a shipment of our cocaine. If he doesn’t…”
I offer her the rosary. She doesn’t take it. Her whole body is trembling. Laying the rosary down on the tray, the skittering of it is the only sound in the room.
“Thank you for the coffee and your hospitality.” I stand.
She doesn’t move.
Opening the door to leave, I look back. Her head is in her hands. Perfect.
* * *
Nicolette
I assume he’s downstairs. Only to find he’s gone. He left without saying goodbye. What pisses me off even more is he knew he was leaving and didn’t say a word. Felix left the week before, but Joe says he has no plans to travel anytime soon.
Joe chuckles. “I told him to tell you he was leaving. He thought he might be gone for a week but wasn’t sure.”
“I can’t believe he didn’t say a word.” I’m not proud of how hard I put down the cup of coffee. I’m trying to sip, not gulp down to soothe the raging beast inside me.
“My apologies, my dear, all three of us are an inconsiderate lot. My late wife often listed it as my number one deficiency.” His apology is genuine.
It’s the first time he’s spoken of his wife. I’m surprised enough the beast disappears in a poof of smoke, or the caffeine hits my bloodstream—one or the other. Manuel told me to not speak of his mother until Joe did. “I did want to say I’m sorry about your wife.”
“I’m not. Almost forty years. I should be. She deserves at least that much. Except, I don’t have it to give to her memory. The only thing I can muster is a thank goodness it’s over after all this time,” he admits.
“You never found another woman you wanted to be with enough to ask for a divorce?” He’s a handsome man. I can imagine there were a lot of women over the years who thought they were in love with him.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I took my pleasure and left it where I found it. I’ll admit my wealth made it too easy to get my way with women, including my wife. I’m going to enjoy my single status. Spend time with my grandbabies, take better care of my roses, and enjoy the years I have left.”
Manuel mentioned Blanca kept the children from Joe, afraid Joe would take over raising them despite Joe making it clear he simply wanted to know his grandchildren. I told Joe I would never keep the children from him, as long as the children wanted to see him. They adore him.
I shake my head. “You’re making yourself sound like some doddering old grandfather settling into a semi-retirement. Joe, you don’t look like you’re only eighteen years older than your youngest son—you look about five years older. So what you have gray hair? You aren’t a silver fox you’re just a fox. Are you sure there isn’t maybe a little of grieving going on? Not for her, but for the life you thought you were going to have before she forced a different one on you?”
The smile disappears. “My son did well to select you. You will have to speak plainly with Manuel. He believes he’s a master of studying tells in people. However, he’s dense as hell when it comes to women in his life.”
Tessa and the children are playing in the pool. “Will Felix ever test Elias to find out if he’s not Manuel’s?”
His eyes narrow on me. “No. Because it doesn’t matter if he is or not. Only Joaquin will inherit from Felix, whether he has a dozen other children or not. It was important to his other grandfather, in an attempt to keep his empire going once he passed.”
“I just want to know if he’s going to try to take Elias from us.” Typical man, assuming it’s about money and power. “And who is Joaquin? Is there more family I don’t know about?”
“Ah, in that case have no fear. Felix is not one to face his mistakes. Elias is not a mistake, sleeping with his brother’s wife was.” His eyes are soft with a memory it’s clear pains him.
“I think it’s too easy to forget Joaquin. He is the only other relative of note. I have a cousin in the sense he might be my father’s cousin or he might be my father’s brother, Amado. I’ll mention from time to time. He’s one of the few we trust with business and handles our New York operations permanently—bastard refuses to leave the city.” It’s clear he’s joking.
