Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
We drive past a group of children playing with a deflated soccer ball in a makeshift patch of dirt. Despite everything, despite their circumstances, they find joy. A sobering thought that hangs heavy in my mind.
A few minutes later, on the far south side of Chapinero, our driver comes to a sudden stop before a dilapidated warehouse that looks like it could crumble at any moment. The massive structure looms above us, casting shadows onto the cracked pavement.
Elmo exits the car and I follow suit, the door closing behind us with a hollow thud. The air is different here—thick and stale yet crackling with an unseen energy.
Our driver remains inside the vehicle, eyes straight ahead, his grip on the wheel unyielding. Around us, the distant laughter of children playing, dogs barking, and urban music fades into the background.
Elmo leads me towards the entrance of the warehouse. As we approach, two men step out, both tall and lean with hard eyes.
“Who are they?” I ask Elmo.
“I don’t know. Don’t ask. And don’t tell them who we are. The driver says they have information.”
“All right.” I swallow, steeling myself. “Information about what?”
“I don’t know. Your grandfather insisted on this meeting.”
“And he didn’t bother telling me about it?” I shake my head. “I’m supposed to be his right-hand man.”
But of course, he doesn’t fully trust me.
A smart man, my grandfather. Except he’s not my grandfather, as I now know. He’s my father. Biologically, at least. A degenerate who raped his own daughter.
I am the unfortunate result.
Elmo talks to the two men in Spanish for a moment. I recognize a few words.
“Seguridad,” “peligro,” and “Vega.”
Security, danger, Vega.
And then…Bellamy.
With a Colombian accent, but it couldn’t mean anything else.
Bellamy. As in Austin Bellamy. As in Bellamy Ranch.
With wide eyes, I turn my head to look at Elmo. He cuts his conversation short and turns to me. “They know of Bellamy.”
“How?” I ask, the question barely above a whisper.
Elmo shrugs slightly. “News travels.”
I shake my head. “Not like this. Not information like this.”
Someone has been talking, someone who knows more than they should. And in this game, having unnecessary knowledge is dangerous.
Elmo looks at me, his dark eyes solemn. “Let’s find out what they know.”
“No names,” I tell him as he walks back toward the men. “Not until we figure out how deep this goes.”
He nods and begins speaking with them again, this time asking what they know about Bellamy.
The two men exchange a look and then answer in Spanish.
The wait is agonizing, but finally Elmo turns to me.
“Vega is building a new network. That’s what Puzo was working on. Vega had a falling out with your grandfather years ago and was demoted within his organization. He disappeared, and now he’s quietly rebuilding his network, which includes…”
“What? For God’s sake, what, Elmo?”
“It includes a new smuggling route. Right through the Bellamy ranch.”
9
RAVEN
“What is it?” Jared asks.
I gulp and show him my phone.
He wrinkles his forehead. “This is your actual phone. Not the burner.”
I nod, swallowing—or attempting to swallow—the lump in my throat.
He strokes his chin. “So the text saying you were in danger came in on the burner. But this one…”
“Came to my phone.” My heart is racing as I say the words. “From someone who knows my number.”
“A cell phone number is easy enough to get,” he says. “Which means…”
“Whoever is communicating with me on the burner is…not an enemy?”
He frowns. “I’m not ready to say that, but it appears they’re trying to warn you.”
“Warn me?” I echo, my mind whirling. “About what exactly?”
“I don’t know. About Gallo, maybe.”
“Vinnie?” I shake my head. “He’s gone. He dumped me. He was very clear. He’s probably somewhere in South America by now.”
Jared takes a deep breath.
I wait for him to speak.
He doesn’t.
“This isn’t fair,” I gulp. “Do they know what they’re doing to me? I just survived cancer. I’m in the middle of doing some work of my heart to help others.” I feel emotion coming up my throat, but I do my best to swallow it down. My voice cracks a little as I continue. “Do they have any idea what a death threat will do to a person who’s already faced death once? I’m frightened, Jared.”
“I know. I know.” He lays his hands gently on my shoulders. “No harm will come to you as long as I’m here. I was hired to protect you.”
My heart hammers and a shiver runs down my spine. “Should we report this? To the police or someone?”
Jared looks at me gravely and shakes his head. “Not yet. We don’t know who we’re dealing with or what their game is. If we go to the police now, we could scare them off.”
I stare at the words on my phone’s screen. “But we can’t just ignore this.”
“No,” he agrees. “We definitely can’t ignore it. I’ll see if the number can be traced, but it probably can’t be. My guess is it’s coming from a burner phone.”