Deep Deception 2 Read online

  Rome said, “She’s got a pulse. Call it in while I check the basement.” He quickly moved toward the basement door. His face was flushed red and sweat was rolling down in his eyes.

  “Don’t you want to wait for backup?” My voice was a little higher than its normal baritone. I coughed, hoping Rome didn’t notice the nervousness that was evident in my voice. My hands trembled. I’d never been around a dead body before.

  “Why? If the perp is still in the house, we have to catch him. Get an ambulance before the bitch dies,” he shouted as he opened the door and started down the basement stairs. If he noticed my hesitation to move, he didn’t mention it. It was too much; I couldn’t take it anymore. Blood was all over. I stumbled back. There was no way I could stay in this room. I didn’t care if Jesus Christ Himself was in here. I rushed out the front door to keep from vomiting all over the floor and contaminating the crime scene. For the first time since graduating at the top of my class, I had second thoughts about my career choice.

  I made the call but I didn’t bother going back in the house. I was done. I waited outside for the paramedics to arrive. I was standing next to the squad car when Rome came out the front door.

  He gave me a hard look. “Damn, you just left a brother hanging and shit.”

  I couldn’t tell whether Rome was joking or if he was actually angry. Truth be told, I couldn’t give a hairy tit if he was. I didn’t tell his ass to rush down those stairs, and I damn sure didn’t tell him to kick down the fucking door. “We’ll be lucky if they don’t kick our black asses out of the department or worse yet, turn us into meter maids.” I was angry, but not necessarily at Rome. I was pissed off at myself for wasting the last six months of my life.

  “Negro, please. We responded to a call and we were the closest unit to the scene. The way I see it, we should get a promotion for it.”

  I could tell he was feeling particularly proud of himself—that only made me madder. “Yeah, whatever.” I wanted to get away from the scene before our sergeant arrived and read us the riot act. The sergeant hated cockiness, and he would’ve burst a blood vessel if he got one look at Rome strutting around like the only rooster in the barnyard.

  “Did the chick make it?” Rome asked.

  “Uh ... I don’t know. I couldn’t get close to her.”

  Rome’s look told me he was disgusted with me. I was glad that he didn’t use the moment to make fun of me. I was beating on myself badly enough without any help from him.

  “Let’s get back to the station. I got a shell casing from the living room floor. I want to get the guys in the lab to run ballistics on it to see what we can find out.”

  “Rome, this is a crime scene. You should have left the casing for the detectives.” I thought for a moment. “The paramedics haven’t even gotten here yet.”

  “Oh, now you want to remember our training?” His look of contempt said it all. He stood in front of the car as if he was about to let the whole world know what a coward I was.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I bluffed, hoping he would leave me alone.

  “It means your punk ass choked the fuck up as soon as we got in that bitch.” Rome was a bigmouth fucker and I couldn’t stand his ass.

  “Fuck you. If your ass winds up in the unemployment line, I won’t be standing behind you.” I got into the car and slammed the door. As far as I was concerned, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. I just wanted to get away from the house, which was sure to be the source of many bad dreams for me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CARLOS MENDOZA

  It had been a long time since I’d visited the United States, so quite naturally I was feeling a little uneasy about it. It seemed like I walked into a different world. I got off the plane in Atlanta and wandered through the maze of Hartsfield-Jackson Airport to the baggage claim with one thought on my mind: revenge.

  I had received a letter from a woman named Tilo Adams. She claimed that my brother, Monte, was responsible for the death of my wife. I did what needed to be done and headed for the States. When I boarded the plane in Bogotá, Colombia, I had no idea what I would be walking into, but I intended to get to the bottom of it.

  During the plane ride, I had plenty of time to reflect on where I had gone wrong. I thought Monte was my confidant but turns out he was a snake. Every time I wanted to quit the business and go to Atlanta to be with my family, he persuaded me to stay. In fact, Monte volunteered to leave our home in Colombia and move to Atlanta so he could keep an eye on my family for me while I continued the business. To me, short of being there myself, he was the perfect surrogate. He was the last living member of my immediate family, and I told him everything and he used it against me.

  Unlike me, Monte embraced the American ways of dress and was more flashy than I. Although we were brought up with the same set of values, while I was making money, he’d obviously made a deal with the devil and ultimately put my family in danger.

  My heart was heavy. I could not believe my own brother had betrayed me in such a fashion. But what surprised me the most was that he’d done it right under my nose. I had no idea he was wheeling and dealing and using me and my family to do it.

  I gathered my luggage and went to find the driver I had hired to chauffeur me around the city. In all my years I never learned to drive. To me it didn’t make sense because everywhere I ever needed to go was within walking distance. However, this was going to have to change if I intended to make Atlanta my home.

  Verónica looked like a beautiful angel. She slept soundly in her hospital bed, almost like she had been drugged. When they had directed me to the maternity ward I thought it was a mistake. I knew I had messed up and missed out on my children’s lives but I never imagined how much. Even if I wanted to get mad, I could only get mad at myself. There were so many times when I could have come to visit, but, over time, it became easier for me to stay in Colombia. But that was going to change. I leaned over her bed and kissed Verónica’s forehead. I never knew it would feel so good to touch my oldest daughter after so long. I whispered in her ear, “I love you, my child, I hope you know it. Please forgive me for being away. I will never leave you again. And, I will rebuild our family, starting by avenging your mother’s death.” I left her room on a mission.

  It took less than twenty minutes for my driver to drive me across town to Private Investigator Moses Ramsey’s office. It was an elegant brick building on Peachtree Street. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” a man’s voice yelled from inside, then he snatched the door open like he was pissed about something. “What!”

  I stepped back some and prepared myself to fight if it came to that. His unprofessional manner caught me by surprise and put me on guard. “Are you Mr. Ramsey?”

  “Son of a bitch—”

  “I beg your pardon.” I frowned at him over my horn-rimmed glasses.

  “Uh ... I’m sorry. Are you Mr. Mendoza?”

  “How did you know?”

  He just stared at me.

  I said, “I received a letter from this woman named Tilo. She said my children were in danger. She told me Verónica was in the hospital so I stopped by to see her before I came.”

  “Verónica?” He sounded like he’d just called a dead person’s name. For some reason, he all of a sudden looked worse. He got his bearings and said, “So what can I do for you?”

  “I want you to find that woman Tilo. She obviously knows what happened to my family and I need to know what has been going on.” I paused. “If I find out that she was involved, she will have to pay,” I vehemently declared.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MOSES RAMSEY

  He sat back in the chair, adjusting his thick glasses on his face. For a Latino, he was pale. And with his glasses he almost looked Asian. I searched his face, but he bore little resemblance to his daughters. He did not even look like Ramón, as far as I could tell.

  “I know how you must be feeling but I’m not sure that going
after Tilo is a wise idea.”

  “If she was involved, that woman has to be punished. If you’re not going to help me, I’ll find someone else who will.”

  We sat in silence for a few seconds as I contemplated his request. Mr. Mendoza scared me when he mentioned Verónica. I needed to find out how much he knew. His offer had its pros and cons. On the pro side, Mr. Mendoza’s job offer would provide me with a valid excuse for pursuing Tilo. On the flip side, Mr. Mendoza would expect progress reports, and I wasn’t inclined to share much information with him until I knew which side he was playing for. The other con was if I didn’t accept his offer, he may hire someone else who would unravel the mystery of Tilo’s disappearance and my involvement with her. Accepting Mr. Mendoza’s offer became a no-brainer.

  I said, “Mr. Mendoza, the letter you showed me was postmarked before the death of your brother, Monte. This makes me think she might be involved in his death. Your brother came to me posing as you and since we’d never met, I believed him.” If he was surprised by what I’d said he did not show it. “He told me about some missing bonds and money that was never found. Chances are if you find Tilo she will have it, but you will probably have to turn that money over to the Feds. Are you okay with that?”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. The Feds know nothing about it, and I don’t care about the money. I want the bitch to pay for whatever her involvement was in my family’s discomfort. If you recover any of the money or the bonds, keep it. Consider it a bonus, in addition to your fee for finding a missing person.”

  “Mr. Mendoza, finding Tilo is not going to be easy. Nine times out of ten she has already fled the States, so I may be required to travel out of the country.”

  “I’m well aware of that. Just draw up the agreement so you can get started.” He pushed his glasses back up on his nose. He stood up, indicating that our meeting was over.

  CHAPTER SIX

  CARLOS MENDOZA

  Two Weeks Later

  I was nervous as I rang the bell. I didn’t know what I would do if the door was slammed in my face. My heart was leaping around in my chest as if it were trying to get out. I wasn’t prepared for the woman who answered the door. Stunned. I stepped back. For some stupid reason, I wasn’t expecting an adult to answer, I expected to see the little girl I remembered. I knew she was grown, I saw it for myself at the hospital, but to me, she would always be my little girl.

  “Hello, Padre,” Verónica said.

  There was little warmth in her voice. Given the circumstances, it wasn’t a surprise. Tears welled up in my eyes. However, I brought this situation on myself and there was no one left to blame. How was I ever going to make them understand that I never meant to hurt them? That was the question I’d been contemplating for the last two weeks, the one I tried to answer before I showed up on her doorstep.

  “Verónica. It’s been a long time.” What a lame-ass thing to say. If I could kick myself in the ass, I would have. My hands trembled and I almost dropped my suitcase. I scanned her face, and I could not help but to admire how beautiful she was. With the exception of her eyes, she was the spitting image of her mother, Alelina.

  “Yes, it has been. Are you going to come in?” She opened her door wider and I walked into her home, humbled.

  I was ashamed of myself for staying away so long. I stood in her living room clutching my bag and feeling like a complete jerk. My suitcase became a lifeline of sorts. It was the only familiar thing in the room, although I really wanted to hug my oldest child. She was no longer a child; she was a woman with enough reasons to hate me for the rest of my life, for all the lies.

  “You can put your bag down over there.” She pointed to a corner that I wanted to stand in myself.

  I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I continued to stand there with my head down.

  “Can I get you something to eat or drink?” To her credit, she was trying to make it easier than it should have been. If her nerves were fucking with her like mine were, she didn’t show it.

  “No, I’m fine. I’m glad to be here. You are so beautiful.” All my sentiments ran together. She jumped as if startled by my compliment.

  “Uh, thank you. You, you look the same, except maybe for a little gray in your hair.”

  I smiled. At least she remembered me. She sat down on the sofa, and I finally relinquished the death grip on my suitcase and sat down beside her. She patted my hand. It wasn’t the hug I craved, but at least she didn’t smack the hell out of me. Freely, I cried. It was a start.

  “Padre, don’t. It is what it is. There is no way to change it; we just have to figure out where we go from here.”

  When did she become the grown-up and I the child?

  “It’s so much that I don’t understand,” I said, feeling like I had broken my children’s hearts.

  “Well, Victória and I have a bunch of questions for you as well, but why don’t we wait to talk about them when we are all together?”

  “What of Ramón, where is he?” I looked around the room, hoping to see him peering at me from around a corner or something.

  Her cool veneer slipped. I should’ve known it was bad when Verónica started to cry. I wiped my own eyes and moved to hug her. Finally an opportunity to be supportive.

  “Padre, I couldn’t tell you this over the phone because I’m still trying to deal with it myself ... Ramón is dead. The same woman who sent you a letter killed him in cold blood.”

  I pushed her away from me and jumped off the sofa. “I ... uh ... wait ... oh Jesus.” I fell to my knees. My heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest. My stomach hurt and I couldn’t seem to get enough air in my lungs. I gasped as I tried to get words out of my mouth. “She killed my son? Oh God no!” It was a punishment. I knew in my heart that God was finally making me pay for all the deception and the lies.

  “I’m sorry, Padre.” Verónica lifted me off the floor.

  I was trembling and I couldn’t stop. So much ... so fast. First my wife, my brother, and now this. Ramón shouldn’t have had to pay for my sins. She allowed me the time I needed to get myself together.

  “Cold blood, what does it mean?”

  “It means there was no reason to kill him. The police said she shot him at close range. Since there was no apparent sign of struggle, I can only assume she shocked both of them.”

  “But why?” I paused. What did she mean? Both of them? Ramón was the third son I’d lost. It felt as if my heart were breaking into a million pieces. I loved my daughters with all my heart, but my sons held a sacred place in my heart. They were in charge of continuing the family bloodline.

  “She also tried to kill Victória.”

  Both of my children? I was too distraught to put the pieces of the puzzle together. I noticed Victória’s absence, but I assumed she didn’t want to see me or she was otherwise busy.

  “What? Where is she?” I looked around the house, expecting her to walk into the room from the kitchen. This was further confirmation that I had fucked up as a parent and as a husband. It was my job to keep my family safe and I failed. My head felt like it was going to explode; it was so heavy I could barely lift it.

  “She’s in the hospital but she’s in a coma. We are hopeful she’ll pull through,” Verónica said.

  “We? Who is we?” Either she was not making sense or I’d missed some of the conversation.

  “My husband and I.”

  I did a double take. My eldest daughter married? How could I have been so far out of the loop? “You’re married? When did this happen?” I was too confused and hurt to get mad. Tilo’s letter told me Verónica was in the hospital but it obviously left out many other details. I was getting exactly what I deserved for not having an active part in their lives. I stood up; the walls felt like they were closing in on me.

  Verónica wore a look of compassion and understanding on her face.

  “I can’t do this right now. It’s too much.” I paced back and forth while she silently watched me. “I’m s
orry. I can’t do this.” I walked toward the door.

  “Padre, if you leave now, don’t come back.”

  It wasn’t a threat. I heard it in her voice. She was forcing me to deal with too many emotions at one time. I’d spent the last twenty years trying to block them out in order to keep them safe. Now she was basically telling me all my efforts were in vain because at the end of the day, I failed them.

  I screamed at her, “What do you expect me to do?” I didn’t mean to yell, I just felt so helpless. I didn’t know this woman who stood behind me, but I could tell she wasn’t kidding.

  “I expect you to sit down and have a real dialogue with me. It’s time to put the deception and lies behind us so we can move forward. It’s too late for the past, but we can definitely work on the future.”

  I was torn. I didn’t want to admit to the past. But unless I wanted to go through the rest of my life alone, I had no choice but to come back and take my punishment like a man. I was defeated. “Where do we begin?”

  “Padre, before we go into all that, there are a lot of things I need to know. For example, is it true you and Madre both speak fluently in several languages? If so, how come we never knew this?”

  Shamed again. I felt like she was beating me about the head for all my transgressions. We kept a lot of secrets when we lived in Colombia and things didn’t get better when the family moved to Atlanta. I wanted to tell her everything but there were still some things that they didn’t need to know, even after all this time had passed. I was only going to tell her as much as she needed to know. The rest I would take to my grave.

  “I know I owe you some answers, but can we go see Victória first? I’d rather explain everything to both of you so I only have to go through this once.”