“Can I help you bring the food to the table?”
Trees just shook his head. “Sit. I got it. You’re doing the dishes, remember? Right now, I need to ask you some questions. There was a development overnight, and we’re trying to understand it.”
That sounded ominous. Slowly, Laila sat. “What?”
He ferried the bacon, a plate of eggs, and bowls of oatmeal to the table before sliding into the chair across from her. “Dig in. Let’s get some food down you before we dive into that.”
Laila didn’t love putting off reality. Over the years, she’d learned that facing a situation was far more productive than burying her head in the sand. But she also suspected he put off the ugliness until she was fortified enough to face it.
Silently, he forked bacon and eggs onto her plate—way more than she could actually eat. But he only rolled his eyes at her protests, then passed her a bowl of oatmeal before adding a dash of milk and a sprinkle of brown sugar.
After he consumed even more food, watching her with an unflinching gaze as she ate, he finally pushed his plate aside. She did the same, stunned to realize that he’d kept her so engaged during their meal that she hadn’t felt afraid or self-conscious for even a minute.
That spoke volumes about how much she was beginning to trust him.
Laila leaned across the table, propping her chin in her hand. “Shall I do the dishes now or—”
“Let’s talk first. Help me understand the state of Tierra Caliente before EM extracted you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Emilo ran the operation in the bunker. That was his fiefdom, right?”
She shook her head. “His responsibility was bigger. He ran that region of the country, along with some foreign export operations.”
“He had help, didn’t he?”
“Of course. Victor and Hector, his right and left hands, were always willing to lend their brain power—such as it was—and their muscle to enforce his rules as if they were laws. There were others, but they were bought and paid for. The Ramos brothers…they were intensely loyal to Emilo.”
“And where were they when you were rescued from Emilo’s compound? Still inside?”
She shook her head. “About a year ago, Hector moved to the US to spearhead another operation. I overheard that he married an American woman. But I do not know his wife’s name or where they settled. Victor stayed behind to help keep operations and employees inside the compound in line.”
Including her. If she’d thought life without Hector would be better, that she would have fewer degrading demands to adhere to, Victor had quickly dispelled that notion.
“You were gone from the bunker before Emilo was killed, right?”
“By several months. But I have no doubt the shock of his untimely demise staggered the cartel. And I am sure the infighting to assume his authority was almost instant.”
Trees leaned in, all elbows. “So there were factions, right? Groups infighting for supremacy?”
“Yes.”
“In any power vacuum, there always is.” Trees nodded. “Tell me about those.”
The situation inside the cartel had always been complicated. No one had ever explained the power structure to her, but merely by observing their behaviors and eavesdropping on their conversations, she knew who had likely been vying for power.
“Emilo ran his operation inside Tierra Caliente, of course. He had loyal enforcers—Hector and Victor. Whatever power they had only existed because Emilo made it so. Of course, Emilo’s father, Geraldo, presided over the larger operations of the cartel, not just in the region but the organization as a whole. His word is law. He didn’t often override his son’s decisions on day-to-day operations. Emilo mostly had autonomy, but there were times…yes. Geraldo would step in and block Emilo from some plan or plot. The whispers said that Emilo was not good with understanding the way the political winds blew. He especially did not do well appeasing local politicians. Geraldo often had to care for such things himself, but he tolerated Emilo’s spotty competence because that was his son and Emilo did a violently good job of eliminating competition. But after Emilo’s death, Victor and Hector likely did their utmost to seize control of the compound and its operations. I doubt Geraldo would have tolerated that.”
“So it’s possible those two factions are at war?”
“I am sure they are.”
Trees rubbed at his chin in thought. “Did Victor chase after you in Orlando because he didn’t want to let you go? Or is it possible he had a more political reason for pursuing you?”
She gathered her knees to her chest. “Probably both. Victor never liked losing his ‘toys,’ but the Ramos brothers and Geraldo have been trying to get their hands on Jorge since his birth, I guess because he is the future of the cartel. The heir apparent.”
“Whoever controls the boy controls the organization?”
Laila shrugged. “It sounds silly because Jorge is not yet two, but I can think of no other reason why both factions want Valeria—and thus, my nephew—so badly. If either side captured me, they would merely use me as a bargaining chip.”
“To get their hands on Jorge. I get it.” He frowned. “But it doesn’t add up. The cartel is running without Jorge, and how does either side think a toddler will forward their business?”
“It puzzles me, too. Except, I suspect, they intend to groom him to take over one day.”
Trees sighed like he was about to impart bad news. “Three men were murdered sometime overnight. Their killers dumped their bodies in the EM Security parking lot, almost like they intended to send us a message. But we don’t understand. The victims’ identities are unknown, but they were all Hispanic with lots of ink, between late-twenties and mid-thirties. That describe anyone in particular you can think of?”
Was he kidding? “Victor and Hector had those loyal to them and, thus, Emilo. But they always suspected Geraldo had his spies on the inside, telling him everything his son did. But they were all men. All pigs. Almost all fit that description.”
With a frown, Trees leaned back in his chair. “Spies? If Geraldo didn’t trust his son, why would he give Emilo responsibility for a chunk of his empire?”
“I cannot say. I only met the man a few times. Thankfully, he found me beneath his notice.”
“Thankfully?”
“He terrified me. Emilo was violent and ruthless…but ultimately greedy and lazy. Sloppy. I do not think he would have ever been capable of running the whole Tierra Caliente cartel. I think his father tried to make it so by giving him the necessary experience, but it was beyond Emilo. Geraldo, however, is the perfect kingpin—shrewd, strategic, even diplomatic when need be. Of course, he is also ambitious and not afraid of violence. Victor described him as something of a chameleon, able to rub elbows with government dignitaries as easily as criminals. He knows exactly which moves to make, which people to pay off, and who he cannot trust.”
“Good to know. Zy will send over some pictures of the dead bodies when he gets them together. Will you look at them for me?”
Laila wasn’t sure if she could identify anyone, but she was willing to try. “Of course.”
“Thanks. Why don’t you shower and get dressed? Then you can do the dishes and start the laundry. I need to work on a few things.”