I'll Remember You (Hell Yeah!) (13 page)

“It’s okay. We’ve all had a hard time,” Isaac spoke up. “But we’re McCoys, we’ll pull through.”

Jacob had faith. He knew scripture said we’d never be asked to handle more than we could bear, but he was reaching his limit and there were still battles to be fought.

***

Emily Gadwah’s lab – Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico

“I’m loyal to a fault, Martina. My memory is a long one. I haven’t forgotten what your family has done for me.” Emily Gadwah sat at her desk, arranging and rearranging the stacks of papers in neat, perfectly aligned piles. She fingered the staples, letting the sharp edges of the ends almost prick her fingers. She needed to stay alert. The woman in her office was a friend, but a very dangerous one.  

“We take care of our own, Emily.”

Which was true. To an extent.

As long as an employee or a friend was loyal, Marinta was loyal. But if they slipped, the consequences were dire. She stared at the woman across the desk. Her pink hair was startling. If she walked out from behind the desk, Martina knew her sandals wouldn’t match and she would be wearing no socks of any kind. But she was brilliant, and she could be trusted—and that was all that mattered.

Emily swallowed hard. “Would you like some coffee or a coke?” How she’d gotten mixed up with a drug cartel was one of those mysteries of life for Emily. Her work was her world, other than her son, and sometimes trade-offs had to be made. Cartel money bought the best lab equipment. It funded research when government grants dried up. All she had to do was test their coke, perfect their meth recipes, keep their reputations intact as to the grades of heroin offered, and the rest of the time she could dabble in whatever her heart desired.

And her heart desired recognition.

If she was correct, her work would ensure her a place in history. All she had to do was keep her nose clean, stay alive and continue getting enough money to fund her testing. What she’d found was a drug which would almost halt the progression of certain forms of cancer—namely leukemia. Ibrutinib effectively stopped tumor cell multiplication in its tracks.

“What can I do for you, Señorita?” Staying alive had to be her first priority and keeping this woman happy went a long way in ensuring she would be around to see another day. Other unsavory types came knocking on her door. Without the protection she received from Ms. Delgado, it would be like a mouse living in a glass cage full of anacondas.

“Let me tell you a story.” Martina knew she was risking everything, but if Emily knew exactly what was happening, she would the best course for her to take. “Several years ago, I fell in love.” She hated to show her vulnerability, but that might be exactly what would convince this brilliant chemist to give her what she needed—if it even existed. “The man, a Texas rancher, did not return my affections. At the time, he did not realize who I was, the granddaughter of a drug lord. I had not picked up the reins of power.” She twirled her engagement ring on her finger. The ring was real, but the love it represented was false. “So, he didn’t reject me because of my association with El Duro, he just wasn’t interested. At the time, I don’t think he was in love, but I was lacking somehow.”

Emily felt sorry for this woman, she couldn’t help it. Anyone could see there was a longing in her for tenderness, to lay down the guns she carried and just be a sensual human being. “What happened?”

“I have thought about it a lot. If he’d shown me any encouragement, I would have done anything he wanted. I’d never have become the Diosa. I would have been happy becoming his wife.”

“It didn’t work out?”

Martina laughed. “He didn’t look at me twice. His ranch purchased cattle from us. More than once. After that, I never heard from him again. I became embroiled in the ‘family business’.

“Okay, so what happened, then?” Lord, Emily thought, this was like pulling teeth.

“A few weeks ago, while sailing off the coast of the Cayman islands, we pulled a man out of the water. Saved him. He’d almost drowned. A diving accident, we think.” She blew out a long breath. “It was the man I love. And he was hurt, badly. His memory was gone. And I made a decision to bring him with me, to get the help he needed and to sail away from whoever was searching for him.”

Emily tensed up. Damn. She didn’t let on, she thought it wise not to, but Emily Guadet knew exactly who she was talking about. The American, Aron McCoy. “Were you able to help him?”

“Yes.” Martina nodded. “He’s had surgery and recovered. But his memory was still missing when he awoke.” She smiled, slightly. “Well, he’s remembering now.” She stood up and walked across the room and then back. “I’ve lied to him. I told him he’d sold his ranch and lived with me. I told him he was my fiancé. I gave him a new name, a new identity—everything.”

“His memory is returning?” At Martina’s nod, she continued, “And what do you want me to do?”  

“I want to know if there’s a way you can stop him from remembering, but I don’t want him hurt. I don’t want him impaired.” She thought of the strong virile man he was. “I want him to be who he is, but just not remember his family…or his wife.”

Emily pondered the question, staring at the Diosa. She could tell how important this was to her. A twinge of guilt and fear hit Emily. This was huge. Aron McCoy was as important and powerful in his own right as the queenpin was. “Give me a day or two and let me see what I can do.” She wasn’t certain, but maybe there was a way she could appease Martina and protect Mr. McCoy at the same time. Maybe.

***

Tebow Ranch – the day after the Cattle Barron’s Ball

“You need to take it easy, Libby.” Joseph led her back to the room. “Those babies of yours need you to be strong.”

“I know, I didn’t mean to get upset. It wasn’t Noah’s fault.” She pulled herself together. Libby didn’t want to be a burden to her family. “It was just a shock. For the Cattle Baron’s Association to honor Aron as if he were dead…” Her voice trailed off.

“They meant well.”

God, she had to be strong. Aron wouldn’t want her falling apart every few minutes like this. She brushed the tears off her face. “I know it. I’m sure it was as big a shock to Noah as it was to me.”

“Well, Noah, you know, he’s a little anal.” Joseph laughed. “Everything has to make sense, it all has to add up. He doesn’t like surprises or uncertainties.” He touched Libby’s shoulder. “That’s why he keeps questioning everything about Aron. You’ve got to understand, Noah would give his right arm to bring your husband home. So, he keeps grasping at straws about where he might be or what he’s doing. That’s Noah’s way of working it all out in his head. He wants Aron to be alive, no matter what.”

Libby knew what he was talking about. One of the private eyes had told Noah it was possible Aron had just walked out of the surf and left. That he didn’t want to come home. That it was intentional. “I don’t believe it, but I understand their thinking.” She had been through enough in her life to know tough things happened. Pain and grief made some people do strange things. “But, he was happy. If he could, Aron would come to me.”

If he could come home, Aron would. There. She had said it. It had been over a month, Thanksgiving would soon be here. Then Christmas would come. If Aron could come home, he would. And if he didn’t, neither her life nor the lives of his family would ever be the same again.

***

Emily Gadwah’s Lab – Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico

When Martina left, Emily began doing some research. A colleague of hers was working on a compound which was being designed to make subjects forget traumatic experiences, or at least that was the legal, public reason. It was being labeled the innocuous name of Zip. Such a drug was what the Diosa was hoping for. But Emily didn’t want to tamper with an innocent life, any more than had already been done. In addition, the tests on Zip weren’t conclusive. Most of the results chronicled had been on lab rats. Only a few human subjects had been tested. But as far as was known at this point, the effects of the peptide were thought to be a complete erasure of whatever memory the patient was recollecting at the time the drug was administered. In the trials, the people were asked to discuss their trauma and while they were speaking, the dose was administered.

She had no wish to permanently harm Mr. McCoy, so what she needed was something she could give Ms. Delgado which would pacify her by doing what she wanted, but only on a temporary basis. But to do that, she needed to know more about Zip. It was time to make a phone call and see if she could make a trade, Royce had been hounding her about the cancer cure. As much as she hated to share credit, she would do it to save a good man’s life. Dialing the phone, she put her plan into motion. “Royce, this is Emily…”

***

Tebow Ranch

He couldn’t handle it. He just couldn’t handle it. Here he was running out of the house again, facing a storm far more devastating than the first one which had driven him from his home. The other time it had been a dream, a nightmare of Aron’s funeral. This time it was a reality. What Noah had found changed everything. He wasn’t who he thought he was. His whole life had been a lie. The woman who’d held him when he was sick, who had taught him how to walk, the woman he had called ‘mama’ hadn’t given birth to him. He didn’t know who the hell he was!

Climbing in his truck, he started the engine, gunning it as he spun out of the driveway. Would this ever feel like home again? Blindly he drove on instinct, following the same path he’d traveled the other night. To Skye. He needed her. Right now, he couldn’t face his brothers. “Hell!” He laughed sharply. Were they even his brothers? Did they know? Was that why he couldn’t do anything right in their eyes?

He glanced in the rear-view mirror. Taking a hand, he ran his fingers through his unruly long mane so unlike Jacob and Joseph’s and the rest. All of his life he had wondered why he looked different. Neither of his parents was blond. He remembered Sue—he couldn’t use the word ‘mother’ right now—telling him he was special. That she’d asked for a boy with sun-kissed hair. “Why?” He choked out the word.

What he’d found in Sue McCoy’s diary had knocked the very foundation out from under his feet. What was he going to do? Whirling into the driveway at the hunting cabin, he saw Lance and Skye standing by her truck. His foreman lifted a hand in greeting, then walked away toward his own vehicle. Skye, his beautiful Princess, stood watching for him, waiting. She was about to leave on a trip to ‘find herself’ and he was going to ask to go with her. For he’d surely lost himself more than any man ever could. Maybe together, they could make sense of it all. Maybe together they could find something to hold on to, even if it was just one another.

***

La Dura Headquarters – Cananea, Sonora, Mexico

On the way home, Martina went to the hacienda to check on the operations. A shipment of cash was coming in today. People would be amazed if they knew how much money she had control over. During the last month, she’d taken in a hundred and ninety-two million dollars or six million four hundred thousand dollars a day. Actually, they didn’t count their money, they weighed it. Twenty pounds of hundred dollar bills was a million dollars. There were business expenses of course, primarily the bribing of Mexico’s law enforcement officers and a few random assassinations here and there.

Today, she drove the Bently. Aron hadn’t seen the luxury car. She’d tried to introduce him to their lifestyle slowly. He’d seen the yacht, or part of it, but he’d been too out of it to appreciate the one-hundred-twenty foot, ninety million dollar Nauta. Her father, Tomas, refused to upgrade Los Banos with drug money. The ranch was a shack compared to the hacienda in town. Esteban lived in style. There were gold faucets in the restrooms, marble floors in the garage, a multilevel swimming pool, a full size discothèque and even a private zoo for his enjoyment. One day, she and Aron would live in the same luxury. Martina was making sure she put back money for their future. Perhaps she wouldn’t always be in the business. Lately, she had considered giving it up, maybe to have a family. So, she was putting money in U.S. banks, Swiss banks, even Canadian banks.

Martina had also purchased legitimate businesses—apartment complexes which covered entire hillsides, diamond mines, shopping malls, even two professional soccer teams. She had as many legitimate employees as she had drug runners. So, keeping herself and her trusted associates organized was imperative. But this part of her job was enjoyable. She had a good head for business. The only distasteful thing she had to do was inform Esteban that Joaquin Rios would not be acquiring one of the Delgado sisters as a bride.

“Buen dia, Señorita,” one of her people greeted her. She struggled for a name, but couldn’t think of it, so she just smiled. Taking a few minutes, she visited her accountants and the dock where the crates of money were unloaded. Bales of cash came in to the hacienda by eighteen wheeler trucks, most boring legitimate U.S. company labels. Corrupt custom agents on the border waved the trucks through without inspection. The money would be packed in crates with padlocks on them. For a few minutes, she stood and watched a few of the boxes be opened. Seeing that much money in one place still gave her a little thrill. Now the cash would be laundered back through the legitimate businesses and make its way back into banks in Texas and Arizona. If she had her way, they would soon cut a step out. Martina’s thinking was that the drug money was made in the U.S., it might as well stay there, so she was fostering relationships with several men and businesses to handle a substantial amount of her money on the north side of the border. Ah, it was a game, but an exciting game. 

“Martina, do you want to go with me to the church?” Esteban’s request sounded strange, but she knew what he was referring to.

“Today’s the day?” No, she didn’t want to go to church.

“Yes, I’m expected.” Once a month, he would go hold court in church and hundreds of peasants and dirt farmers would come from miles around to ask favors, to get disputes settled, to ask for loans for businesses or grants for education. Martina knew Esteban got off on this whole medieval, lord of the land, kick.