******063:

We'd split up. I was with Kell, Marshall was greasing the government wheels and Matthew was on stand by in Mexico City for contingencies, also monitoring the cartels. How he did this, I'm not sure, but he had Robert De Marco's approval--- and that meant access to the whazoo super computer that had been Jared Patrick's.

We hired a taxi to take us to Senora Nemesio's hacienda in Tapeapulco. I expected scenery similar to Teotihuacan, jungly, desert. Pyramids and ruins, adobe, city, not sure what I was expecting.

The city was older than the areas of Mexico City I was familiar with. Trees lined the streets which were conveniently paved, or not depending on the mood it seemed. The water here was said to be contaminated and we were advised to drink only bottled water. Kell had brought ours from home. He didn't trust the vendors.

I studied the landscape as carefully as I could, looking for defenses, opposition. I figured both Maximiliano and Roberto would have guys guarding, or at least on the look out. But we saw no evidence of this.

However, it was a sleepy side of town, overgrown, and close knit. Her home was prestigious the way you might expect. More like my folks home, in the middle of someplace you wouldn't think it to be. It was unguarded.

Kell had cut his hair short. It was darker than I'd ever seen it and sleek, which I'd also never seen. He had a rat's nest the last time we were together. His facial hair was very--- typical, very Spanish if you must know, and his sunglasses labeled him the thug he was role playing. Except he reminded me: this wasn't play.

He kept saying it. This is serious. I've been involved with cartels before. Depending on who you're dealing with this could be serious.

Yeah. I get it.

And we were waltzing right in under the radar.

An older woman answered the door, but with just a few introductory words, it became obvious that she was not the Senora we were looking for. For a split second, I had the sinking feeling we were in an assisted living facility. But we weren't. She let us in.

The hacienda was nice inside. In a grandmotherly sort of way.

I waited next to Kell, who bounced on his heels inside the now closed door, eyes peacefully, deceptively tranquil, hands clasped over each other in front of him. A few moments later we were shown to a room.

"How nice to meet you, Mr. Stryker." Uh-oh, this was a male voice if I'd ever heard one. And I realized Senora Nemesio may have told somebody, perhaps even been intercepted, except my guys on the scene had said no.

But it was a woman who greeted us. She was of medium build, not portly, not thin, not tall, definitely holding her weight like a pro wrestling champ. She wore an exercise outfit, bundling her into spandex which managed to be flattering, while at the same time being distinctly revealing of her wrinkled skin. I held out my hand, her grip was firmer than Mutt's.

"Senora Nemesio?"

She laughed. "You were expecting a more grandmotherly woman? And you're wondering why I didn't keep Felicity, being in the kind of shape I'm in? I'll tell you." She had led us through the house to the patio overhung with bamboo and palms, and a pool outside. Chairs and tables dotted the pristine overlook. Like a tiki hut. "This is no place for a child to be raised. My husband and son were and still are dangerous men. We've lived our lives this way, and will till we die. I'm glad you have her. It is where she belongs."

"Good to know," Kell said succinctly. "Apparently, you're a business woman, and you're familiar with how we do business. Shall we get right to it?"

A maid or somebody very like one brought us tequila and lemon. I urgently wanted to partake and was absolutely shocked when Kell took his glass and downed it.

In fact, I was so shocked, I didn't know what to say next.

Kell had no such problem. "You profess to be familiar with your husband's assets. What about those here on the property? Did your son, Gomez or your husband ever mention a safe containing documents?"

Senora Nemesio eyed us shrewdly. It wasn't lost on her that I wasn't drinking. "There are several private places of safekeeping on the premises."

"Do you have access to all of them? As in are the combinations and keys available to you?" I leaned forward and found my voice.

That shrewd glance told me she had access to almost all of them, but that there was a secret guarding some or at least one. Would she be honest?

"You know that Gomez kept Felicity's safe hidden, is that right? Has she spoken of it?"

Felicity's safe? That was news to me. I didn't know she had her own safe.

"No. She didn't tell me specifically she had her own safe. It's been over a year, Senora, and her life is stable and moving along. She has simply had a few triggers recently that have caused her to recall memories that cause nightmares and such. Perhaps you can help us understand?"

She grunted. "Don't play games with me, Stryker. I know she is not having nightmares. Eli has been to me, and warned me you may come looking. You are to be told that the safe is not here. However, if Felicity has recalled what she did with her necklace, you are to tell me immediately in return for our protection for the rest of your lives. A very good bargain, if you ask me."

I refused to look at Kell in that moment, instead, I let my own shrewd glance warm her beady little eyes. "I know where the necklace is," I said.

"You will tell me this now."

"How many of Eli's men are watching us?"

"My men are the only ones watching us, Senor."

"I doubt that very seriously."

"It is the truth." She leaned forward, her tender upthrust breasts gracing the glass table. It had to be a push-up bra. Because even at seventy-five they had that look----

I glanced around expecting to be apprised of about ten guards and other security. I could see no one. That pissed me off. "If you give me free reign of the hacienda for a half an hour, with no security, I'll give you the necklace."

"The necklace itself is not the only thing necessary. Do you have the voice codes?"

My eyes remained fixed, but my mind raced with possibilities, but there was only one conclusion to be drawn. "Yes. I have the voice codes."

Kell gulped another shot, and I gave him the once over. He nodded succinctly. "Oh, that's good."

Was this a role he was playing, or did he just have a craving for tequila?

In disgust, I turned to the Senora. "Call off your dogs, or you get nothing."

She was quick to wave her hand in some kind of signal. Too quick. I knew only a partial contingent had been dismissed. I sat there--- waiting---

Okay, and it should be noted, I am a complete novice at this. Brazening it out was not even something I watched religiously in movies. Who has the time, right? I've never seen the fifth or sixth Bourne movies. There are five or six now, right?

When to bluff--- when to hold my hand? How to keep the poker face? My heart was racing.

She eyed me defiantly, her wrinkles protruding like vines in her forehead. I could see the tick in her cheek. She wasn't used to being denied.

Matriarch, the thought insinuated in my mind, and I was suddenly very glad Felicity had Aubrey as a mother and not this hideous creature full of money grubbing, power hungry--- well, I didn't even know the words for someone like her.

Finally, after what seemed like ages she flung her hand again, and I visibly saw the movement as her teams left us.

"I can do nothing about Eli's men." She said with a notched brow as she stood. "The hacienda is divided into three main parts. Living space, offices and guest rooms."

"I will need access to the living space, inside and out," I said succinctly, while Kell and I stood. It occurred to me to be thankful Kell had thought to arm us both, and we had not been frisked at the entrance like I'd expected, so we were armed quite heavily still.

She frowned and then shrugged. "I will wait out here then. Alone. Go--- find the necklace if you truly think it is here."

I didn't bother to answer her but went back inside. I saw no one. Kell disappeared around the outside of the pool, checking the grounds. We knew exactly what we were looking for.

He was looking for chicken coops, and I was looking for the study.

The interior was dark after the brilliance of outside. I checked my watch, it was one here, noon at home. I decided it would be best to call Aubrey and as I peered inside each and every alcove and arched doorway, I dialed. She answered easily.

"Lover." She said.

Her voice belied the curious out of body experience I was having, danger permeated every ounce of my being, yet, with her on the other end, it was like routine at large.

"Baby, how's it going? I only have a second. Wanted to check on you. Any contractions?"

"No chit chat? You must be really busy." Her voice was sweet.

"No time, right now, I'm heading into rehearsal."

"Really?" Now there was a tone in her voice I hadn't heard in a while.

"Are you having any contractions?"

"No, baby, I'm contraction free, Maille and Cassie and I are just sitting out here enjoying the sun, and the surf."

Maille and Cassie? Who were---- dang, are you serious? Maille and Cassie? Maille and Cassie?

"Did you have a visit planned I didn't know about?"

"Yeah--- they planned a surprise baby shower for this afternoon. Surprise!"

I felt my heart clench, and grip and sputter and clench again. Was she having me on? Did she know where I was? Weren't Maille and Cassie both spouses of the men who were with me?

"Is Angie there?"

"No, but she's on her way. She was here earlier and then had to leave for a bit. Anyway, it's so sweet of them. I think even your sister is coming."

"My sister." I echoed. That meant Aubrey's blood pressure was about to boil and might send her into labor. I knew that if even one glitch threatened, Breckinridge would call off the wait and we'd be having a C-section tonight.

"Yeah, I'm really thrilled. I feel so cooped up. Like a chicken in a coop, you know?"

I gulped as I came to the room that was obviously the library or study. I stood heaving outside the door, wanting very much to double over in pain.

Chicken in a coop. Chicken.

She knew.

She didn't do Freudian slips.

I waited. There was about to be a blast of arctic chill, and then I'd have seven hours to be back--- and then barred from the delivery room, on the most important day of our life.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

******