Page 27 of Grave Peril

“I’m displeased,” the boss said.

In the silence that followed, a tinge of fear snaked up the senator’s spine. But he shook it off. This was a business call, and he expected co-operation, not judgment.

“I’m not happy with the situation either, jefe. I could use your support on this. The feds are hot and heavy on this deal. I wouldn’t want any fallout to reflect on your organization.”

The flattery apparently fell on deaf ears. “It’s your mess, senator. You clean it up.”

The message was clear, but Ortiz didn’t like what he was hearing. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Figure it out.” The reply had been delivered with dead calm, threat woven into the command.

“What I don’t get is why your guys didn’t bump off Lela Cabelo when they had her. What were they waiting for?” The senator’s question sounded sharper than he’d intended. The cartel expected manners, no matter the situation.

A deep-throated chuckle spoke volumes. But Ortiz didn’t get it. A lot of trouble could have been avoided if the gangsters had walked into the train station and shot Lela on sight. They’d seen fit to take out the feds, so why not her?

“Without finding out what she knows? That would have been unwise.”

Ortiz listened to the man’s heavy breathing while he thought that over.

“So, senator…I’d advise you to make her talk before you bump her off.”

Ortiz cringed. He was okay with the drugs and the money, but he hadn’t planned on bumping anyone off. Although he would have no objections if Lela disappeared for good—dead or alive.

“I have one more question.” His contact didn’t reply, but Ortiz sensed that the man was losing patience. “How did you know about the train station?”

His contact huffed. “You think FBI agents can’t be bought off, like anyone else?”

The insidious nature of the cartel hit home. Ortiz realized there wasn’t anything they couldn’t gain access to. Money wielded unlimited power. And the cartel had so much wealth that the organization was nearly legit. Like the mob, their activities earned an obscene amount of income. But laundered and funneled into other business vehicles, the group presented an acceptable image—when they needed to.

*****

Before heading back to the office, Ortiz took time to consider his options. His contact had issued an ultimatum: handle the situation or else. The or else hadn’t needed to be stated. That was how the cartel operated. Second chances weren’t part of their mentality.

Ortiz was treading on thin ice. Bringing down the wrath of the feds on the drug business was frowned upon, and carried lethal consequences. If Lela Cabelo testified at trial, and confirmed the evidence she had against him, it would be all over.

But there was a way out of this dilemma. Ortiz had the power and connections to ensure things worked out in his favor. He didn’t need to get his hands dirty; he was too smart for that. He had other people to execute the deeds. That was the most advantageous way.

All he had to do was find his runaway paralegal. Once he had his hands on her, Lela would talk. He’d see to that. Then he’d destroy the evidence. The cartel could buy favors, but so could he. With the only person who could finger him out of the way, he’d take care of the rest.

He’d find out if she had copies of documents and where she’d hidden any evidence. And he’d make her reveal if she’d told anyone else. He couldn’t risk overlooking any possible source of attack. Once he gained control, Lela wouldn’t be of any further use.

The call with the cartel boss had unsettled him. But Ortiz was regaining his confidence. He had power and authority to use for his benefit. It was no easy task to take down a senator, particularly one of his cunning. Lela would rue the day she’d decided to go against him.

Ortiz had a connection in law enforcement, a district police chief on the payroll. The cartel owned him. Michael Hagan had helped the senator before. Reelection had gone more smoothly after the police chief had lobbied for him.

Hagan wouldn’t refuse to assist the senator. He was in as deep with the cartel as Ortiz. The chief had recruited a couple of cops at his station, who were willing to do his bidding for a financial payoff. The officers had acquired the habit of looking the other way on drug shipments, and the cartel had been appreciative.

The senator came up with a plan. He dialed Hagan and gave him instructions. “That won’t be a problem,” the chief said. “I’ll have one of my men take care of it.”

“Today would be good,” Ortiz said. “I need things to happen fast.”

*****

Ortiz would enjoy this show. He’d been at the office when Ashlee had gotten the call. The most direct route to Lela was through her best friend.

Ashlee couldn’t be forced to go to the station for questioning, but her expression had shown concern. Officer Morris must have laid it on thick. The strategy had been to stress that Lela was in a tight spot, and her friend might be able to help.

“You’re sure I need to come to the station?” Then, after a beat, “All right, I can be there in an hour.”

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