Whispered Lies

“No, but you respect blood above all else.” Carlos drew on all he’d ever known about this man to get what he wanted.

Durand’s eyes lit with interest. “You say my sister was kind to you once? Then she will know you.” He turned to Julio. “Bring Maria.”

While Julio was gone, Durand had his men move Carlos and Gabrielle to sit in the side chairs as if they were invited guests. Carlos maintained a blank face and kept his gaze away from Gabrielle. He had to believe she would keep her word to him and contact Joe, no matter what. He leaned forward with elbows on his knees and propped his chin on his cupped hands.

He knew Maria would not fail him. His aunt had been the only constant in his life, the one person who had ever cared that he existed.

But she hadn’t seen him since he was a teenager…or since his facial surgery. What if she didn’t recognize him?

Carlos had spent many nights at his aunt and uncle’s house, where he’d had a male role model of a man with integrity who loved his family. But his uncle died too young. When Carlos met Helena, he envisioned a marriage like the one his aunt and uncle had shared. He would always consider his aunt his only mother. She’d bandaged his cuts, fed him as one of her own, and held him the only time he’d cried-over losing Helena. The same day Carlos had made a pact with Maria to hide the truth about the bombing, then walked away to keep his aunt and Eduardo safe.

When Maria walked into Durand’s office, Carlos endured physical pain at not being able to hug her. The years had not changed her, but the warm brown gaze creased in confusion when she took in Carlos and Gabrielle.

“Hola, querida Maria,” Carlos said as he sat up, using his teenage greeting of “dear Maria” to give Carlos’s aunt his identity immediately without Durand knowing.

Maria lifted trembling fingers to her forehead. She had to be trying to reconcile the voice and familiar greeting with the face.

Durand asked her, “You know this man?”

Before she could answer, Carlos took everyone back to the point of this meeting. “Now that your sister is here, let’s discuss my offer.”

Durand ignored him, waiting on his sister to answer.

The struggle to decide what to say warred in Maria’s gaze. Carlos held his breath, praying she wouldn’t say a word to undermine the deal he was cutting.

She nodded. “Sí. He is familiar, but I want to hear this offer he makes you.”

Durand gave Maria a hard look. Carlos banked on the bond between these two to prevent Durand from forcing her to say more.

“Tell me!” Durand demanded.

“I’ll give you Mirage-” Carlos flinched when Gabrielle sucked in a deep breath. But when he added, “And Alejandro Anguis,” her muttered, “Bastard,” cut deep.

Durand just stared at him mute.

Not a sound was made until Carlos heard sobbing and looked at Maria. She knew for sure now. Her watery gaze pleaded silently with Carlos to let her speak, but they’d made a deal and she had given her word.

“You can do this? Deliver both Alejandro and Mirage?” Durand demanded, amazement and excitement ripe in his question.

“Yes, but I want something in trade.” Carlos hoped the next words would buy him some small redemption. “Let this woman”-he nodded at Gabrielle-“go free. Her only mistake was dating me. She knows nothing about any of this and will never risk saying a word once she leaves.”

“Let her leave?” Durand stared in disbelief. “No.”

“Durand,” Maria said softly. “He has offered you what no one else has and asks far less than any other would in his place.”

“You know this man, Maria?” Durand asked.

“I think so.”

“Who is he?”

“I will no say unless you agree to his offer.”

“Dios! You are family. How can you side with him?” Durand struggled to maintain his icy calm. He crushed his cigar in a glass tray.

“I will explain later, but first tell him you will make this deal. It is no so much to ask.” His sister crossed her arms and jutted out that stubborn Anguis chin.

“His woman can cause me trouble,” Durand pointed out.

Carlos chuckled sadly. “Take a look at her. Do you think she wants any part of this or that anyone will believe her? She has no proof of anything that has happened down here, and right about now she’s ready to cut my throat for you.”

Durand eyed Carlos curiously. “So why do you care about her safety and no yours?”

“Because I used her as cover to come search for an informant and owe her a safe return home.”

No one spoke or moved for the next minute as Durand studied his dilemma.

“Who is your informant?” Durand crossed his arms, clearly not ready to make a deal.

“Like you haven’t already gotten that information in your granero?” Carlos didn’t want to share Ferdinand’s name, but he’d bet the father and son were somewhere in this compound. Most likely in the heavily guarded shed. Or already buried.

“How do you know so much about my operation?” Durand’s gaze bounced to Julio, whose eyebrows lifted in curiosity, but he said nothing.

“Make the deal and I’ll tell you.” Carlos leaned back in the chair, arms crossed.

Durand finally pointed his cigar at Carlos. “I will agree to your deal, but if you no produce Alejandro and Mirage, I will find your woman and she will pay for your lies.”

“I know that.” Carlos turned to Gabrielle, whose horror was right up front for everyone to see. She knew, as everyone in this room knew, that Durand would hunt her down the minute Carlos was dead and his sister was home. Carlos prayed Joe and Tee would have Gabrielle safe by then. “Go stand with Maria.”

When Gabrielle just sat there, Carlos added a firm “Now.”

She stood and moved tentatively toward Maria, eyeing everyone in the room as she did.

Carlos said to his aunt, “Go with her to the airport and assure she is on a plane to the U.S. Once you call and tell me she is safe, I’ll tell Durand everything.”

“I will,” his aunt assured him. “I am to leave very soon with Eduardo, who is seeing a doctor in the U.S.”

Carlos smiled. “Damn. Rather be lucky than good any day.”

“No one is going anywhere until you give me proof of at least one right now,” Durand ordered.

Carlos sighed. “Can I lift my hands without getting shot?”

Durand nodded.

Carlos ripped his shirt open, exposing the Anguis tattoo with the scar. “I am Alejandro Anguis.”

TWENTY-FIVE

GABRIELLE STARED AT the inked design of a snake wrapped around a stiletto over Carlos’s heart, with a scar.

“Alejandro?” Durand’s shock stole his breath, then he wailed, “Alejandro!” His face contorted as he moved toward Carlos, his body shaking. He reached out with trembling hands, the muscles in his fingers tight as he cupped Carlos’s face. Durand’s head shook back and forth, disbelief in his harsh voice. “Why would you turn on family?”

Gabrielle’s knees weakened. Carlos was Alejandro Anguis, the man who had killed her mother?

What happened to all the air in the room?

Maria covered her mouth, sobbing. Durand’s men gripped their weapons, every visible muscle taut with anticipation.

Durand clutched Carlos’s face, his fingers digging into the soft skin. His whole body shook with fury. His voice was raw. “You were blood. My blood.”

Given any other situation, Gabrielle would have been moved by Durand’s heart-wrenching keen at seeing his long-lost son.

But she couldn’t find a smidgen of sympathy for this man.

Carlos said nothing, still as a statue. Durand let go of Carlos all at once as if touching him burned his hands and backed away. He’d left red welts where he’d gouged Carlos’s cheeks.

The black eyes Durand turned on his son were crazy wild, and his raw voice was more threatening than anything he’d whispered before now. “You killed your own blood. My brother was in that château.”