Her Body of Work by Marie Donovan

Author:Marie Donovan
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2005-07-16T16:00:00+00:00

MARCO LET THE PHONE IN his brother’s apartment ring while he grabbed some clean clothes. It was probably one of Francisco’s girlfriends. The machine clicked on and a creaky Cuban voice came through the speaker.

“Francisco Flores, this is Señora Ortega, the neighbor of your mamá.” Marco stared at the machine and leaped across the room to snatch the phone.

“Señora Ortega, this is Francisco.” The old woman was practically deaf and never could tell the two brothers apart.

“Francisco, you need to come home to Miami right away. Bless the Virgin, no one was killed, and your mother’s things were at Luis’s house but…” The señora rattled on.

“What happened?” Marco could hardly breathe. Had Rodríguez found his mother?

“Some evildoer threw a Russian drink through your mamá’s front window.”

“What?” For a crazy instant Marco had an image of a vodka shot glass spiraling through the air. “You mean a Molotov cocktail?”

“Sí, that is what the man from the fire department said. I told him your mamá is on her honeymoon cruise with Luis, so you and your brother have to come fix the house. It is black from all the smoke and fire, but it didn’t burn down. Where is Marco anyway?”

Right here in Chicago. “I think he’s in Europe.” Marco’s stomach churned at the memory of how hard his mother had worked to buy her house, a widow in a strange country with two fatherless boys.

“Europe is too far. You have to come home, young man. Your mamá is on her honeymoon and shouldn’t be disturbed.”

“I can’t come to Miami. I’m in the middle of a job.”

The old lady’s sharp disapproval radiated through the phone line. He actually cringed. No proper Cuban son would ignore such a summons.

“Francisco Ignacio Flores.” Her voice shook with indignation. “I won’t ruin your mother’s trip, but you can be sure that she will hear about this when she comes home.”

“I’m very sorry, señora. If I could come home, I would. I think my mother will understand.” If she didn’t kill him herself once she realized the danger he’d put them all in. He hadn’t told her anything about his latest investigation, knowing that she’d be away if the mierda hit the fan.

“You young men. Not a thought in your head about la familia, only work and women. I won’t forget this, Francisco, and neither will any of your mother’s friends.” She hung up with a loud click.

Marco was left with a dial tone. The rage that had simmered through his veins for the past two decades boiled over and he slammed his fist into the wall, knocking a hole in the cheap Sheetrock. Rodríguez was using his family as bait to draw him home to Miami, home to a certain death.

Marco stared blankly at the torn skin on his bleeding knuckles. Not for the first time, he bitterly regretted his inability to protect his family. The drug lord had the balls to harm his mother a second time. After Marco got through with him, Rodríguez wouldn’t have any balls at all.

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