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After a while, she turned to me and smiled brightly. “I hope it works.”
And I hoped we could be in that moment forever.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The days that followed Thanksgiving should be some of my happiest ones. In a way, they were.
I had my girl safe with me. I had my woman happy by my side. We were organically becoming a family, and instead of feeling unworthy or afraid, I was welcoming that change and craving more.
But we still had Matias’s disappearance looming over us. If that wasn’t enough, we were getting close to completing one year without Zach. I didn’t want to voice it, but those two situations felt like a bad omen.
Even though we didn’t talk about it, the mood at the company was somber. The four of us (Haley, Mia, Ben, and I) carried the weight of our pain, and it seemed to get heavier as we approached that fateful anniversary.
I walked into our box for the time being, kissed Haley’s cheek at reception, and headed to the hall. Seeing the light on in Mia’s office, instead of entering mine, I strode to where she was stationed. She had several photos scattered on her table, along with piles of files, while some opened boxes bracketed her at her desk.
I leaned down to kiss the side of her head. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me for all this fun.”
“What can I say? I’m greedy and selfish.” She smiled softly as she took her glasses off to rub her eyes. The dark circles around them were becoming her signature.
“What are you working on?” I inspected the files closer. “And why are you looking at these tattoos?” Before she could answer, Ben walked in as well, his clothes crumpled, his hair pointing everywhere, and pure exhaustion was portrayed on his face. “Is everything okay?”
He plopped down on the remaining chair before Mia’s desk. “Teddy had a fever all night. Izzie thinks he’s teething again.” He slumped his shouldersand ran his hand into his hair. “He seemed to be so uncomfortable. He was only able to sleep this morning. I didn’t want to leave him with your parents. I need to be around if he needs me. So, I brought him with me, he’s sleeping in the nursery.”
“Why don’t you stay at home with him?” Mia suggested, putting her glasses back on. “We can handle things around here.” I nodded along.
“Thank you, guys. But I think the change of scenery and the distraction might be good for him when he wakes up.”
I tapped his shoulder. “Well, then if you need anything, just ask. I know a thing or two about babies.”
He smiled in relief and straightened up in the chair. “Thank you. I might need some coff—why the fuck are you seeing all these tattoos? Is this a new kink?” He stared at Mia’s desk in disgust—as if he didn’t exhibit his fair share of ink—only then noticing the stack of photos.
“I’m wondering the same thing.”
She slid some of the pictures to us. “I had something niggling my mind. So, a while ago, I asked Aaron to send me the pictures they took of that guy we caught at our raid. The one where we found the girls.” We nodded for her to go on. “Well, since I started the investigation on the cartel, back to my DEA days, I’ve been collecting all kinds of information, big or small, about them.”
I’d seen her collection. It was quite impressive what she managed to put together during those years. “And that includes tattoos?”
She nodded. “Most organized associations have signature tattoos. And even if the perps aren’t a part of one yet, they showcase their ink. It’s a form to send a message and gain respect. In Brazil, that’s a real thing. That also applies to the Russian mob, for example.” She shrugged. “So, I figured we should check to see if it’s common here as well.”
“What did you find?” Ben asked.
“Back at the DEA, I started to notice most of the cartel people we arrested shared some of the same ones. So, I began to catalog every image and cross it with their priors and what the men were being arrested for. I continued to do so even after I left. Some of my findings aren’t official, although I strongly believe in them. But I confirmed others with some people I know in law enforcement, Aaron included.”
It made sense. During my time at the DEA, I’ve encountered my share of people who had tattoos to send a message, either good or bad. In an organization as big asEl Rey Alacrán, many members didn’t knoweach other, so an effective way to communicate was through the ink on their bodies. Thinking back to when our nightmare started, I recalled Mia recognized Matias as a member of the cartel because of the big tattoo on his back—a huge scorpion wearing a crown with a rosary dangling from its tail, the signature image of theAlacráns.
Ben leaned forward, rummaging through her files. “So, what did you come up with about the guy?”
She pointed to the photo in my hands. “He has the same scorpion tattoo on his back, which indicates he’s part of the cartel. No surprises there. I also found,” she made a disgusted face as she handed us another picture, “the little teddy bear on his chest. From what I’d gathered, that means he’s into rape, and he likes them young. Again, no surprise.”
My insides recoiled. No wonder she wasn’t sleeping. “What about this one? The half-jackal, half-human on his thigh?”
“That’s Anubis, Egyptian God of the Dead. It means, well, that he’s killed before, but not a random murder.” She leaned over the table. “You see here in the god’s scepter? Tiny cuffs and some other symbols? The cuffs symbolize law enforcement, and the other symbols are for other cartels and organized associations.”
“So, he likes to kill policemen and the competition,” Ben concluded.
Wonderful.
“Precisely,” she agreed. I pulled the other photos closer to me, trying to decipher their meaning, although knowing the truth wasn’t making me any happier. “But what really bugged me,” awesome, there was even worse information, “was this one.”
