New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2) (30 page)

“Why haven’t the cousins been killed?” Ivy asked

“Someone wants information and that could nix this deal we
are making,” Steve said as he began mousing around the web.

Tucked in a Mayfair side street, the eating place Julio
chose was celebrated for delectable French food with an adventurous twist which
incorporated elements of traditional English dishes and cleverly wove in
snippets of Asian flavors.
 
Their table
stood in the center of the room where Cruze faced the door to the street.
 
Julio sat down and selected
champagne
to start,
this time
a Veuve
Clicquot.
 
Conversation floundered since revealing their
situation or plans here would be unwise.
 
Moll began talking about his business, bringing a sardonic smile to
Cruze’s face.

“So you are still after bad guys laundering money?”

Undeterred Moll said.
 
“We use our software to isolate
felonious
or aberrant transactions.
 
We’re
versatile because we identify patterns and anomalies and not just focus
on specific
issues.”

After a
pause
Cruze
asked, “How did you find my brothers?”

Since they missed lunch, they dined early by London
standards and only two other patrons were in the room.
 
Mathew leaned forward and said in a soft
tone.
 
“Luck.
 
After hearing about the case, Ivy developed a
theory about two or three siblings where one ran the back office and might be
housebound.
 
Seemed plausible and we
monitored the thread until Steve found the news story on Eduardo’s abduction.”

“So she is more than
an
attractive woman
.
 
I thought so,”
Julio said.

“To continue on finding your
brothers
-- once we found the news coverage on Eduardo, we traced records on your family
until we discovered the mailing address in Santa Fe.
 
Moll operated at the Post Office as our
undercover until Cristo picked the mail up and he shadowed him.”

Cruze glared at
Moll
like such sneakiness should be beneath him.
 
Moll
shrugged.

Mathew continued talking, “We pursued several avenues for
collecting sufficient evidence to ensure your brothers committed the crimes we
had investigated before going in for an arrest.”

“You say arrest and yet Eduardo and Cristo are dead,” Cruze
said, his voice tinged with bitterness.

“We planned a capture,” Moll interjected.
 
“Steve and three of his agents went into the
house only for that reason.
 
Cristo went
bonkers and started shooting.”

Julio touched Cruze’s
arm,
and he slouched back in his chair.
 
Mathew could see he wanted to blame someone for his brothers’ deaths,
even though in his heart he was starting to accept they had doomed themselves by
not leaving Fuentes Enterprises soon enough.
 
Slowly the hostility lifted from Cruze’s face.

A little starter arrived to begin the evening, before their
ordered first course.
 
Arranged in an
artful shape, the tiny scallops shimmered on the plate next to a slender ribbon
of spicy green sauce.
 
Mathew loved to
dine
well.
 
T
his little palate-teaser showed Julio offered them an indulgence
with this restaurant.

While they waited for their next course, a few more diners
came in.
 
The dining room came lightly abuzz
with talk, like a beehive coming awake at dawn.
 
When they started on their appetizers, a wave of unease slid over
Mathew’s left side.
 
The
greeter
answered the phone and then walked
through the room to the kitchen. Mathew peered over at the reception area.
 
Two men wearing dark suits came into the
dining room
.
 
Their eyes skimmed the tables and Mathew knew they were in danger.
 

“Get down!” Mathew yelled without hesitation while grappling
for his gun.
 
His chair toppled backward
as
he
leaped
towards Julio, flinging his body over him and pushing him to the floor. From
the corner of his eye, he saw Moll shoot up in the air, tackle Cruze and tumble
with him to the carpet.

Two shots burst out.
 
A hot pain seared into Mathew’s back.
 
Beneath him he could feel Julio squirming and then Julio wrenched the
gun from his hand, sliding out from under him and away under the table.

Mathew could feel himself fading, laying heavier on the
floor.
 
Callie’s sweet face came into his
mind.
 
T
he
light began to fade and he sunk into unconsciousness.
 

Close to midnight, the day after the shooting, Callie
dozed next to Mathew in a London hospital.
 
She had flown in that morning with Steve and Ivy, leaving Susannah with
Rich and Sassy.
 
The 24 hour FBI
protection continued back on the two vineyards.
 

The three of them made a quick stop at the hotel to drop
their bags and freshen up.
 
Then they
hurried to the hospital to see Mathew and take over from Moll.
 
Mathew was alive, but not conscious.
 
They met with the doctor on duty who
described the delicate surgery performed in the early morning hours to remove a
bullet that entered Mathew’s body under his scapula.
 
The bullet had chipped the bone as it passed,
which slowed its trajectory.
 
It tore
through muscle until it stopped after cracking the edge of
a vertebra
.
 
The bullet had to be removed from where it lodged itself near his
spine.
 

While the doctor seemed optimistic, Mathew was kept sedated
and as immobile as possible to allow the swelling in the area to go down.
 

Policemen guarded his
room
from
a command post in the hallway.
 
Steve contacted the lead agent in London and conferred with the
police.
 
After spending some time with
Mathew, Steve left with Ivy and Moll to go back to the hotel.
 
Tired and distressed, Moll had to be pried
away from Mathew’s side, giving up his place only when Callie insisted she
would stay with Mathew.
 
Once Ivy and
Moll
were settled in their hotel rooms
,
Steve planned to come back to the hospital to sit up with Callie and to guard
Mathew.

Callie woke up to the murmured tones of someone praying over
Mathew.
 
She opened her eyes to see a
priest with his head bowed.
 
As she
stirred to push herself upright, the priest lifted his
head.
 
Callie
saw a delicate,
handsome face with eyes of a startling blue holding deep sadness.
 
She shook her head to clear away her
drowsiness.
 
Why did his face seem
familiar?

“You must be Callie,” the priest said.
 
“Mathew spoke of you.”

“Julio?” Callie asked, now remembering him from the
photograph Steve had shown her.

The man’s voice was evenly modulated and soft.
 
“Your Mathew is like no one I ever met.
 
I am alive now because he threw himself over
me.
 
He took my bullet.
 
I am sorry.”

“Why are you here?
 
We
thought you and Cruze went into hiding.”

“I needed to be assured Mathew would recover before I leave
the country.
 
I kept calling the floor
desk every few hours, then I donned this garb and waited downstairs.
 
When the big agent left, I took advantage of
his absence to come up to see Mathew.”

“The police let you in?” Callie asked.

“Easy with me dressed as I am and wearing a security badge I
picked up in the chapel.
 
I will not harm
Mathew,” Julio said and frowned.
 
“You
should not be here unprotected.
 
I will
stay with you until someone returns.”

“Steve is on his way back.”

Julio inhaled through his nose, held the breath, released it
with a resigned sigh and said.
 
“He will
catch me.
 
I would only stay here for
Mathew or Moll.”

At that
moment
Steve
filled the doorway with his big frame.
 
“Julio,” he said in a harsh tone.

Julio turned to him, raising his eyes to meet Steve’s.

“Did you hire someone to do this?” Steve asked, pointing at
Mathew.

Julio stared back at him with
a wretched
expression and said, “Once perhaps, we contemplated
going after you in particular.”

“Not anymore?”

“Despite what you may think, Cruze and I are not
vengeful.
 
We want peace, not
retaliation, especially after working with Mathew and Moll.
 
They are such good men.
 
Aside from Cruze’s father, I never encountered
a man who puts
ideals
before greed,
lust
and power.”

“Steve is
a good
person
,” Callie said.
 
“The best.
 
Now you can count four.
 
If you
knew my
uncle,
you would add a
fifth.
 
There
are
others, like my father when he was alive and Steve’s other
friends.”

“You’ve know bad men too?” Julio asked, with more than a
hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Yes,” Callie said before smiling,
tilting
up her chin and sitting straighter.
 
“Luckily more good ones than bad.”

“Tell us what happened,” Steve said in a restrained tone, as
he walked closer to the bed.
 
Julio’s
words made him back off from the tough stance he assumed when he first came
into the room.

“Didn’t you hear Moll’s story?” Julio asked.

“I want your perspective.
 
You sat opposite Moll at the table, correct?

“Yes, Mathew sat on my right and Cruze on my left,” Julio
replied.
 
“Cruze and I planned for him to
keep an eye on the entry and for me on the door to the kitchen which meant my
back was to the entrance.
 
This is our
way.
 
We always map out our escape
routes.
 

“The shooting happened fast.
 
The woman at the front must have taken a call because she walked through
the dining room to the
kitchen
as if
going to ask a question.
 
When our
appetizers were
served,
we took a moment
to admire the presentation of the scrumptious plates.”

Julio paused to remember some little detail.
 
As impatient as Steve could be, Callie also
knew he was a good listener and would give Julio time to describe the events in
his way.

“Something alerted Mathew,” Julio said.
 
“I remember his head turning towards the door
and his right hand sliding under his jacket.
 
He yelled at us to get
down.
 
Then
he hurtled himself over me,
pushing me to the floor, protecting me with his body.
 
Moll did the same with Cruze.
 
We were all toppling down when shots rang
out.
 
One hit Mathew as he landed.
 
Cruze and Moll started firing back.
 
I grabbed the gun Mathew pulled out before he
fainted on top of me.”

Julio searched inside his priest’s robe and removed
a heavy
pistol.
 
Steve’s hand reflexively moved to his shoulder harness.
 

 
“Not here!” Callie
said.
 
Her voice sounded far more
commanding than she felt.
 
She
moved
against the bed to shield Mathew.

Julio lowered the muzzle to point
at
the floor, his lips curling up into a hint of a
smile
as he walked the few steps over to Steve
to hand him the pistol.

“It’s loaded,” Julio said.

Steve eased his right hand away from his
gun
, took the weapon from Julio, removed the
cartridge and secured Mathew’s Glock pistol behind his back.
 
His face softened as he looked at Julio and
said, “Had me for a moment.”

Julio backed up a few paces and stood with a bemused
expression.
 
Closer to Steve, his height
diminished,
and Callie could just
make out
a feminine litheness and grace.
 
For a scant moment, a window opened to the
real Annetta underlying the Julio image, itself hidden beneath the priest’s
robes, then he moved back to the other side of Mathew, away from Steve.

“To continue,” Julio said, “the men fled.
 
Gunshots echoed out front in the street.
 
All went quiet.
 
Moll jumped up and scanned the
restaurant.
 
The early diners cringed on
the floor or ducked under a table.
 
Moll
shouted at Cruze and me to leave, started dialing his phone and bent over
Mathew, telling us he lived.

“Cruze grasped me by the arm and pulled me to the
kitchen.
 
Since we kept our guns out, the
kitchen staff never moved as we went through.
 
They pointed to the back
door,
and
we escaped into a middle-of-the-block loading zone.
 
We ran out to Conduit Street, slid and hid in
small Mayfair streets until we hopped on the tube at Oxford Circus.”

“Lucky you didn’t get lost in that cobweb of streets,” Steve
said.
 
“Classy area or not, the little
streets in London’s neighborhoods can be confusing.

“I am skilled at memorizing maps and layouts.
 
Google Maps is my lifeline.
 
On the
tube
we took the short ride to Piccadilly, walked back to the hotel, gathered up our
things and went off in another taxi.
 
In
case anyone shadowed us, we asked the cabbie to give us a tour of the city.
 
When we found no sign of a tail, we went to
take other lodgings in Kensington near Harrods.”

Steve asked Julio a couple of questions then told him that
the gunfire outside left the FBI agent guarding Mathew and Moll
in critical condition.

“May I go?” Julio asked, staring Steve straight in the eyes.

“Wait.
 
Either you or
Cruze or both of you
must be
carrying a
transmitter, which functions as a Geotag to send the coordinates of your
current location.
 
All a person needs is
that data and some GPS software to track you,” Steve said.

“Moll went over our tablets and laptops.”

“This microchip will be small, about the size of a
dime.
 
Might be square. It will be
concealed in an object you usually wear or carry with you – footwear, wallet,
attaché or luggage.”

Julio’s eyes widened in comprehension. Steve reached into
the pocket of his Burberry trench coat to bring out a gadget dwarfed by his big
hand.
 

“Here, take this device,” Steve said
giving
it to Julio.
 
“It will
detect any transmitters secreted away.
 
Be thorough.
 
You should even go over
any cuffs or seams where the material is doubled over.”

“How did we miss this?” Julio asked.

“Some of these homing devices are like a credit card.
 
Go over everything.
 
Expect to find at least one such widget with
each of you.
 
Hunt for several.
 
Examine your insoles and your heels.
 
If nothing turns up, discard everything with
you and buy replacements.
 
At some point,
perhaps when you left your bags in your room, someone planted these trackers.”

“
For now
they can
still figure out where we are.
 
Why
haven’t
they
killed us?” Julio asked.

“My guess is a person or persons unknown sought to ascertain
what you are up to and will execute you once they find out.”

“What if we find any of these Geotags?”

“First only handle them with tweezers in case we can glean
any evidence from them.
 
Second
put them in little Ziploc baggies and
third send a courier with them to our hotel here in London – same one we booked
you into.”

 
“I will call you
either way,” Julio said, again regarding Steve as if puzzled by him.

“You will leave the city?” Steve asked.

“We must.”

“I will text you an update on how Mathew is doing,” Steve
said.
 
“Use the cell we gave you or
another new phone to tell us you are safe.
 
When Mathew can move around, we will again schedule the trip you requested.
 
Call us
with
your airport of choice for departure.”

Julio nodded, edging towards the door,
apparently
anxious to be gone but staying to
hear Steve out.
 

“
Also
those added
twists will take time,” Steve said.
 
“We
can put the agreement in place with those new terms pending a formal
addendum.
 
You and Cruze should prepare
and vote on motions to transition each foundation's board as specified in the
required procedures for each of the funds.
 
Tie the
motion
to the forthcoming
codicil.
 
You can always rescind them
later if this cannot be worked out.”

Julio thought for a moment and said, “You should document
that our
wills
leave everything to each
other and ultimately to the Foundations.
 
I will send you a copy of our wills, just in case.”

“Thus
redounding
the
principal.
 
Not sure I will ever
understand you two.”