At home, after I’d hugged everyone and gotten the latest family news, Nana Mama told me she’d saved me dinner before saying she was feeling tired and went upstairs to read. Jannie and Ali were out in the front room binge-watching the latest season of Ozark. Bree stayed with me in the kitchen and drank a beer while I ate an excellent meat loaf and told her what I could about the dead CIA officer’s confession.
Weaver wrote that he had recruited Catherine Hingham into the network of U.S. law enforcement agents corrupted by the cartel. He named two others at the CIA as coconspirators and described his relationship with General Guerra and Enrique Alejandro.
Weaver said he and Guerra had been meeting for years, figuring out ways to subvert efforts by non-corrupt U.S. agents to halt the flow of narcotics north. Like the other victims of Maestro, Weaver began his relationship with the cartel when he took a small bribe during a time of financial distress.
“What about the other two confessions you read?” Bree asked. “The general’s and Alejandro’s cousin?”
“Both were written in Spanish but Captain Rodriguez translated them for us,” I said. “Guerra was corrupt from year one and rose in the ranks as the cartel grew. It was a mutually beneficial thing. He had tens of millions of dollars in accounts in South America. In return, the Alejandros got protection and influence.
“Enrique got involved because Marco was sent to prison and Emmanuella needed him to step in. He had been active in the cartel less than a year when Maestro tortured and killed him.”
Bree said, “Marco’s sister has no idea who M is?”
“Actually, the opposite,” I said, taking a sip of beer. “She told me she believed she was close to identifying him. She said he’d made a mistake coming onto the cartel’s home turf.”
“You believe her?”
“I have no reason not to believe her.”
“Will she tell you if she identifies him?”
I thought about that and shook my head. “I doubt it. If she told us and we got to Maestro first, we’d probably figure out everyone corrupted by her money. No, I think Emmanuella will use every ruthless means at her disposal to try to wipe out M and his men before we can get anywhere near them.”
Bree got me some ice cream to go with the blueberry pie my grandmother had baked that afternoon. “What about Paladin?” she asked, setting it before me.
“They’re sifting huge quantities of data for us.”
“According to my boss, they’re incredibly good at it.”
“Well,” I said, yawning and getting up to rinse off my dishes, “if so, we should have a better idea of where to focus our efforts in a day or two. Mahoney got the FBI director to request Paladin sifts on the Alejandros and on Maestro and M, a deep dive including the dark web.”
She finished her beer. “What was she like? Emmanuella?”
“Cold, beautiful, ruthless. But also very shrewd.”
“How so?”
“I have a GPS transmitter in my belt, but Mahoney couldn’t track me because she had jamming devices operating all around her. Once I got in their car, it was as if I didn’t exist.”
“Well, I’m grateful to say you do exist,” Bree said, coming into my arms and kissing me. “I feel like going to bed early.”
“Do you, now?” I said and kissed her deeply.
Chapter
68
Northwest of Laramie, Wyoming
On the Circle M Ranch, near the mouth of a canyon that ran back into forest and wilderness, Matthew Butler sat on the porch railing of his log cabin drinking a cold beer. It was a warm evening with a bluebird sky.
The ranch grass was high and green, ready for a second cut. Horses were cantering about their pastures. Some of the ranch employees’ children were playing tag in the late-day sun while their parents drank beer and ate barbecue at picnic tables.
Down by the corral, several young teenage boys and girls were milling about, looking awkward. It was so perfect, Butler almost didn’t answer his phone when it rang.
He finally did. “Butler here. Scrambled line?”
“Scrambled,” M said. “Did you know Cross had a meeting with Emmanuella Alejandro the day after you left Mexico City?”
“How would I know that if I left the day before?”
“Well, he did. Vanished from our digital surveillance for the better part of four hours. Emmanuella’s evidently using signal jammers everywhere she goes now.”
Butler said, “Tricky lady. Who told you?”
“We still have people where it counts. Based on what I heard, we must consider Cross compromised now. Why else go to see the leader of a cartel alone? Why go to a woman like Emmanuella alone? To get his piece of the pie, that’s why.”