Caught Up (Indigo Vibe) Read Free

me.”
    “I don’t need Daddy to tell me anything. I remember the final straw. I remember breaking my arm. I remember you left me at the hospital.”
    “Ernesto made me leave you.”
    “He was scared and angry and probably told you to leave. I don’t have any children, but I feel pretty confident saying that nothing and no one could have made me leave my baby at that hospital.” She wiped her stinging eyes. “Do you know or even care how much that hurt me, Mom?” She inhaled deeply, fighting to regain her cool veneer.
    Harriet continued rocking back and forth. “I was upset. He was so angry. I couldn’t stay. I was scared.”
    “Scared of what? Daddy never hurt you. Now that I think about it, that was the first and last time I’d ever seen him raise his voice at you. But, let’s say you were so afraid of this man who had never laid a hand on you. When we got home, where were you? Were you worried about me?”
    “I was worried sick about you.”
    “So worried that when we came into your room, you were sound asleep. Did Daddy make you go to bed also? Again, I don’t have any children, but there’s no way I would have gone to sleep until I saw my baby was home safe and sound.”
    “He’s twisted everything.”
    “Give it up, Mom. The next day you picked me up from school trying to turn me against Daddy. I was only six!” Tears moistening her face, she pointed at Harriet. “Then that night, you left me.” She pointed at herself.
    “No, he forced me out!” Harriet shouted, picking at the pastel upholstery with her nails.
    “Reality check. When we came to visit you, you said you weren’t ready to see me. I heard you through the door.”
    “I was hurt. I didn’t want you seeing me like that.”
    “I needed you. I thought you’d left because I wanted Daddy to stay. I blamed myself. How could you turn your crying child away?”
    “It… It wasn’t your fault. It was Ernesto.”
    “Stop this!” Harriet snapped to attention. “While you were busy feeling sorry for yourself, Daddy had a child to raise. He sent me to counseling to help me understand that I shouldn’t blame myself for your choices in life. And while we’re at it, he didn’t keep me from visiting you when we moved to Miami. I chose to stop because I had better things to do with my teen-age years than play nursemaid to my drunken mother.”
    Realizing she was now speaking from pain, Rosa stopped herself. “I’m sorry,” she said as she hugged her mother. Harriet’s tears soaked through Rosa’s blouse. “I don’t want to fight. I know you aren’t perfect. I never expected you to be. Please, Mom, try the Alcoholics Anonymous group I told you about. I’ll go with you.”
    Harriet snatched a tissue out of the box that sat on the end table, then dabbed under her eyes. “I can’t.”
    Rosa could see her mother physically withdraw into her shell of denial.
    “Let’s stop all of this foolishness,” Harriet said. “It’s your birthday. Having you was the happiest day of my life.” She fingered the short curls that framed Rosa’s face. “You look so much like your father and act like your aunt Angela.”
    Rosa knew Harriet was drunk now. “I love you, Mom.”
    * * *
    DEA agent Samson Quartermaine dragged his large, dark hands over his face, smoothing down his goatee. “We only have ten days before the execution. There has to be a way to make him talk. Everyone has a price.” He slammed his notebook closed, then tossed it toward the coffee table. The notebook skidded across the table and fell to the floor.
    “Martí n plans on taking his secrets with him to the grave,” agent Alton Miles said as he swung his golf club at the imaginary tee. A Miami thunderstorm had made them miss tee-time, and, as usual, they ended up talking shop. “That’s one price we can’t beat. If we could only convince the FBI to put him into witness protection.”
    “He’s always been able to hide his money trail. How? Who? He’ll never roll