Page 4 of Grave Peril

Chapter 2

Six months earlier ~

Deadlines loomed, but Lela Cabelo was up to the task. In her role as one of the paralegals in the law office of Ortiz and Associates, she was trusted with high-profile cases. All morning, she’d methodically prepped for an upcoming meeting with the staff. Her desk was piled with paper and files, but she had each categorized. What might look like a mess was really organized documentation. Computers only went so far; sometimes hard copies were required.

Senator Raimundo M. Ortiz had dedicated his career to bringing about needed changes to the adult and juvenile criminal justice system in the state of Texas. Stronger enforcement and penalties for violent crime offenders was called for, while the constitutional rights of the individual should be protected.

That had been his campaign message, and his constituents had agreed with fervor. It had been the reason Lela had sought employment in the senator’s law office. After college, she’d aspired to becoming an FBI field agent, but her eyesight hadn’t been good enough. A childhood virus had compromised her vision enough to disqualify her.

Her ten-year marriage to Tomás had derailed her career, but she’d gotten back on track and had devoted four years to getting her degree before the split with him. Her husband hadn’t been keen on his wife working outside the home, which was one of the reasons for their breakup. With her degree, she’d had no trouble finding employment in her field.

If she couldn’t work for the FBI to catch the criminals, then she’d support legislation to protect the city from them. The violent crime rate in Houston was higher than for the rest of the state. It wasn’t hard to understand why. The Houston area was a major distribution hub for illegal drugs. Its major highways, access to waterways, and strong international trade made it a magnet for trafficking.

His role in the Texas legislature gave Senator Ortiz power to influence the drug problem for the better. Lela was inspired to support him, as well as to seek employment in his law office.

The senator’s devotion to constitutional law was another mark in his favor. As one of his paralegals, Lela had the opportunity to assist in causes she cared deeply about. It was a way that she could make a difference, and she needed that on many levels.

Currently, the crime issues garnered attention from key sectors. It was encouraging that federal, state, and local law enforcement collaborated to proactively fight violent crime across the greater Houston area. The goal was to reduce the amount of violent crime and improve the quality of life for the citizens.

It had been an intense morning. Lela was valued for her attention to detail, and she didn’t intend to disappoint the team. When it came to constitutional law, the little things mattered. And she was good at putting it all together in a clear picture.

The preparation was complete, except for making a few copies to hand out, so she took a coffee break. The office brew left much to be desired. No matter what blend was selected, or what new equipment was purchased, the coffee from the lunchroom tasted bitter.

Lela took the elevator to the lobby and ordered an Americano. She took a sip, relishing the fresh-roasted taste. Then her phone vibrated, so she checked the screen. It was her mother. Anyone else would have texted, but her mom wasn’t into that. She preferred to actually talk, claiming that she needed to hear her daughter’s voice, not stare at text on a screen.

She did have a point. Mariana Cabelo was in her early sixties, so it wasn’t likely she was going to change anyway. “Good morning, Mamá.”

“Good morning, mi hija. I’m sorry to interrupt your work.”

“I was just having a cup of coffee. What’s up?”

“You’re still coming this weekend, right?” Her mother’s tone indicated that saying no wasn’t an option.

“I’m looking forward to it.” Lela really was. It was Cinco de Mayo, and each year her family had a big bash at her mother’s home. The day was a reason to have a party, something her family did well.

Her heart warmed at thoughts of her family. Lela had two older brothers, Mateo and Elias, and one younger brother, Ivan. They would be there with their wives and children. But that didn’t begin to account for the number of relatives who would be in attendance. Her mother’s sisters and their families were invited. Then there were countless cousins, nieces, and nephews.

“Bring a few extra bottles of wine,” her mother said. “You know better what the young people like to drink.”

“I’ll bring several bottles.”

“Your aunts and I have all the food taken care of.”

Lela was sure of that. Her mouth watered as she contemplated the vast array of festive dishes. There would be carnitas topped with queso fresco, pickled onions, and her mom’s homemade salsa. The ingredients would be wrapped in a homemade corn tortilla, lightly heated on a comal.

But Lela’s favorite, the treat she craved, was the lamb barbacoa that had been smoked underground in banana leaves. It was a tradition, and her family’s parties were the only occasions where she could get it made the right way.

“I should get back to work. I love you, Mamá…mucho.” After ending the call, Lela took her coffee up to the office, with a few minutes left to make copies for the meeting.

With time to spare, she entered the conference room and distributed the packets of data on the table. But her mind was someplace else. The verve she’d had for her job with the senator had fizzled. It had happened gradually, but recent discoveries had wiped out the admiration she’d had for her employer.

Her coworkers filed in, and the meeting lasted an hour or so. It was good that one of the associates directed the proceedings, leaving Lela to her thoughts. When it ended, she smiled and grabbed her stack of papers, wanting to return to the privacy of her office.

On the way, Lela bumped into her boss. He was by himself, going somewhere important, she was sure. Senator Ortiz was average height, medium build, and dressed the part of a prominent lawyer. The expensive suit and tie were a notch above what the rest of the associates wore, flaunting the senator’s status.

His dark hair was nicely groomed. The receding hairline and dusting of gray at the temples added a touch of sophistication. It was odd that when Lela had met him, she’d considered him handsome. She’d missed the perpetual smirk pasted on his face, and the left eyebrow that was raised, as though he was questioning.

But the goatee set off the image. The dark beard on his chin was closely trimmed, then a line of hair circled his mouth. The thin trail of hair went to his upper lip, across and down, to reconnect with the chin hair. It lent him a haughty air, though he needed little help with that.

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