“Diego, wait! I’m sorry!” I ran after him, but he pushed me aside.
“It’s too late for that. Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret. But I never want to see you again.” And then, Diego Jones walked out of my door and out of my life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“
That’s the key to our team. We have so many weapons. You can just pick your poison.”
—
Steve Nash
So this was what it felt like to lose everything. Well, almost everything. I still had Romi, but from the looks of things, she was headed for the same trouble I was in, in about thirty years. Diego was and soon Dak would be out of my life forever. And it was all my fault.
Okay, so maybe I had nothing to do with Dak being the mole, but I would be responsible for his death. Can you even imagine what it was like to go from absolute elation to complete despair? Diego had told me he loved me. He was even starting to accept me, and I had to mess it up beyond all recognition.
It was as if I’d forgotten how to breathe. Or maybe I didn’t want to anymore. In fact, if it weren’t for Romi, I would have taken myself out right then. The pain was crushing—like being on the canyon floor when Road Runner drops an anvil-shaped boulder on you. Or at least, that was how I saw it.
I’d had love in the palm of my hand. And I’d willingly thrown it away. No. That was too soft. I’d given it a thousand paper cuts and pushed it into a lemon juice bath.
I probably would’ve spent several days lying on the floor by the front door, wallowing in self-pity. That is, if Liv hadn’t found me a couple of hours later.
“What the hell are you doing?” she cried.
“Oh, nothing. Just dying. Make sure I get cremated. And I want you to have that Hello Kitty lamp in my workshop.” The hard floor had numbed all feeling in my extremities, but I just stayed there, punishing myself. It kind of made sense, really. I’d caused Diego all kinds of pain. He thought I had conned him so I could get closer to his client and kill him. Diego believed I’d never loved him and knew I murdered Turner. He must have felt horrible. First he’d failed at his job; then he’d lost his heart to a heartless assassin who used him.
That wasn’t the case, but he believed it. In Diego’s mind, I had hurt him in every way possible. And I hated myself for it.
“Are you going to get up and tell me what happened or do I have to lie down there too?” Liv looked down at me.
“You could speed things up by putting a bullet in my brain. Or I have a lovely colorless, odorless, fast-acting poison that tastes like Godiva chocolate,” I responded.
“What happened, Gin?” Liv sat next to me, legs crossed. I told her everything. Why not? Soon I’d kill my own brother, and then I’d have to raise my little girl to follow in my evil footsteps. I couldn’t hate myself any more than I already did.
“Wow. You’re evil,” Liv replied. She threw in a whistle for emphasis. “Poor Diego. I can’t imagine what hell he’s going through.”
I nodded in agreement, even though it hurt my head to do so.
“So, aren’t you going to go after him?”
I shook my head. “I can’t. He’s right. I’m such a death-dealing bitch. Diego deserves better than me.” I switched to an Australian accent. “Maybe he’ll move back to Australia. Marry a sheila and settle down to raise a bunch of bruces.”
Liv grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up. “You are so pathetic.”
I pulled my arm away. “Easy for you to say. You’re happily married to a wonderful man and you didn’t have to kill his boss. And let’s not forget you don’t have to hunt down your own brother.”
Liv responded by dragging me to the kitchen and making me a cup of coffee. Then she called Mom and asked her to pick up the kids from school. I sat and listened while she got Todd to pick up their kids and then called Dak, asking him to come over. I said nothing throughout. I just sat there, drinking coffee and picking at all my emotional scabs over and over again.
Liv sat down. “Dak’s on his way. I think we should focus on this problem first. Then you can talk to Diego and explain things. You fell pretty hard for him, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “He told me he loved me. So, I told him I killed his client and ruined his life. Pretty much par for the course for me.”
“Well, channel that frustration into something useful.” She nodded in the direction of the doorway as Dak came into the kitchen.
She was right. I’d saved up a lot of anger and now I had a place to spend it. For now, I needed to focus. Diego was still alive. But Dak might not be for much longer. One thing at a time.
My older sister mode kicked in. “Sit,” I told Dak, pointing to a chair. He looked at me with a mix of confusion and fear. Good.
Feel my wrath.
“What is your problem? Liv and I know what you’re doing. Now we have to find a solution so I don’t have to kill you,” I said levelly.
“Gin, what the hell are you talking about?” Dak asked, his eyes wide open.
“You’re talking to the FBI and Scotland Yard. You’re getting ready to turn the Bombay Family in! And I’ve been assigned to kill you.” I was now channeling Dirty Harry. I tried to do that little Clint Eastwood squinty thing. I could go upstairs and get my .44 magnum, but the pause would detract from my dramatic approach.
Dak looked from me to Liv, eyes widened even further in shock. “What? There’s a mole in the family?”
Liv crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t play games with us, Dak. You have some serious explaining to do.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m no traitor.” Recognition sprang into his expression. “Hey! You called me a tractor last night! Is this what that was all about? Helga was pretty freaked out.”
I nodded.
Dak rose from his chair. “I didn’t do it! Why would I try to take down the family?”
Liv chewed her lip, looking at me. I could see her faith was faltering.
“Wait here!” I raced to my workshop, grabbed the memory stick and laptop. I hoped Liv had brought the cell phone. I joined them in the kitchen.
“Look what I found at your house!” I plugged in the stick and ran the photos. Liv cocked her head to the side, eyebrows arched at the pictures of Dak’s conquests. When it got to the family photos, Dak just stared.
“And how do you explain the cell phone?” I demanded. As if on cue, Liv handed Dak the phone. He looked at it as though it might sprout teeth and bite him.
“I ... I don’t know what to say.” Dak had gone pale. I had him.
“Why, Dak? Why did you do it?” Liv pleaded.
He turned toward her. “I didn’t do anything! That’s what I’m trying to tell you! I never took those pictures! I don’t know how the hell anyone got a camera in my bedroom.” Dak pressed a button and went back through the photos. “Or the kitchen and the living room ... and the garage. And I don’t know anything about this!” He held up the phone. “Really, Liv! If I had one of these—I would have shown it to you!”
Liv and I looked at each other. I guess we had just expected him to admit he did it. It hadn’t occurred to us that he’d deny it all.
I rubbed my forehead. “Dak. Just admit it so we can figure out how to save you.”
His face turned red. “But I didn’t do it! Why don’t you believe me?”
Liv said, “It’s too late for that. Don’t deny it. That’s just wasting time. The Council’s been calling Gin every day—harassing her into producing the mole.”
“We have to deal with this, Dak. There’s no time to pretend it’s not you. Let’s just move on.”
“I didn’t do it!” Dak protested. “I swear, I’ve never seen this shit before.”
“So I suppose you’ve been framed. Is that it?” I said rather sarcastically.
“Yes! That must be the answer!” Dak nodded furiously. “Someone is setting me up. Probably the guy who really did this.”
I sighed, feeling the weight of the situation settle into my bones. Dak was sticking to his story. Liv and I were frustrated. We either had to tie him to a chair and get a confession out of him, or I had to render him unconscious and deliver him to Dela. Either way, we were going to be here a while. I sighed again and picked up the phone to order pizza.
What?
I never had lunch! Remember? I was lying on the floor for hours.
I hung up the phone after ordering. No specials today. Dammit. “Okay, we have thirty minutes to work this out. Then we eat. After that, we stay here until we have a plan. Okay?”
By the time the pizza arrived, Dak was still maintaining his innocence. Liv and I were exhausted from pleading and threatening him. So we spent twenty minutes in silence, eating pizza and drinking beer. I looked at the clock. Was it really evening already? Finally, I went to my studio and grabbed my iPod phone tap device, wondering why I hadn’t thought of it earlier. I brought it into the kitchen, attached speakers and plugged it in.
“All right,” I began, “how about this?” I played Dak’s conversation. Twice.
Dak slapped his hand against the table. “That’s not me!”
I rolled my eyes. “For Christ’s sake, Dakota! It’s your voice on your phone! Who the hell else would it be?”
Liv leveled her eyes at him. “You have to admit, we’ve got you on this one.”
Dak buried his face in his hands, reminding me of Diego’s similar action that same morning. I brushed the thought from my mind.
“I swear, Gin,” he said slowly, “I wasn’t home when that call was made! I am not the mole! I know it looks really bad, but I didn’t do it!”
Something in the way his voice cracked on the last word caught me off guard. It opened the door slightly and a little bit of doubt slipped in. I rubbed my temples. Either I was terrible at getting a confession (I’m not really trained for that), or Dak was telling the truth and I was wasting precious time. If I hadn’t driven Diego away, maybe he would know what to do. A piercing pain shot through me and I rejected thinking about Diego again. At least for the time being.
I looked at Dak. Did I really not trust him? Was he telling the truth? I was completely clueless and, after glancing at Liv, realized that she was too.
“I don’t know what to do,” I confessed. As if saying it out loud would make an answer miraculously appear. In that moment, I longed for the days when all I’d had to worry about was Vivian Marcy and my little Daisy Scout troop.
Dak reached across the table and took our hands in his. “I swear that I am innocent.” The exhaustion and worry in his eyes convinced me. He wasn’t the mole.
The phone rang; caller ID said it was Mom. I sighed again, realizing she wanted to know when I’d pick up Romi.
“Hey, Mom,” I answered.
“Gin! Thank God! I tried your cell, but it wasn’t working. I tried Dak and Liv, but couldn’t get them either.” Had Mom been hitting the coffee a little too hard? She said this so fast I could barely keep up.
“Sorry. I’ll be by to pick up Romi in an hour or so.”
“No!” she shouted. “You can’t! She’s not here!”
And just when I thought I couldn’t panic any more. “What? Where is she?”
“The Council took her! Gin! What are you involved in? Lou said you weren’t cooperating, so they were taking her to Santa Muerta until you did!”
I sat down on the floor. Dak and Liv looked at each other. Dak, hearing Mom screaming from the phone, pried it from my grip and talked to her.
All I heard was “blah, blah, blah.” Romi! My little Romi. First Diego, then Dak, now Romi! What had I done to deserve this? The Council had gone too far this time.
I stood up, grabbed my cell and called the Council’s hotline. And yes, their phone was red.
“Hello, Gin,” Troy answered in his snooty accent. “You must have received our message.”
“Troy, you limey peasant-fucker!”
Limey Peasant-fucker?
“What have you done with her?” I screamed.
“Gin, calm down. We won’t hurt her as long as you turn over the mole.”
“You touch her, and you die!” I shouted. And I meant it. This time the Council had gone too far. Maybe it was time I ended the Bombay Family business—once and for all. “I’ll see you real soon.” I hung up.
Dak’s face was twisted with worry. “Mom says they’re taking her to Santa Muerta. I told her not to come over. She wants to go with us, but I think we should handle it.”
“My God, Gin! I can’t believe they took her!” Liv whispered, hugging herself. I could see in her eyes that she was afraid this might happen to her someday.
“Well.” I pulled myself up to my full height. It was time to channel the cowboy Clint Eastwood. “We’re going to Santa Muerta. We’re getting Romi back. And then I’m gonna kill each and every one of them.”
“I’m in. But what about the mole?” Dak asked.
“Screw the mole! They! Let’s bag Richie and deliver him!” I was losing it, laughing maniacally.
“Gin?” Liv said. “The light is blinking on your thingy.” She pointed at the faux iPod. I thought of flinging it against the wall, but something deep inside told me to give Missi’s invention one more chance.