her fork down and it clattered onto the plate. “I can’t do this. Pretend like everything is all right when it isn’t.”
Tick. Tick.
“Then don’t pretend.” Vargas cocked his head to the side. “What can’t you do? Tell me what you mean.”
“You’re upset,” Dutch said taking her hand, but she pulled it away into her lap. Tick. Tick. “It’s being away from Brenda when you feel she needs you.” His heart ached looking at Isabel, seeing the internal struggle evident on her face.
“Is that it?” Vargas asked. “Or is it something else? Talk to me. I love you. I’m here for you. No matter what it is, you can tell me.” His tone was affectionate and coaxing, his eyes pleading.
“I’m talking about how you killed my father,” Isabel said, reaching her breaking point.
Uncomfortable silence reigned for the longest moment. Dutch schooled his expression and tried to think of a way out of this situation, but nothing came to mind.
“Why would you say such a thing to me?” Vargas asked, his voice so pained, it’d make anyone who hadn’t seen the evidence of a feud, the pictures of her father and a witness both gunned down, doubt the accusation.
“Don’t try to change the subject.” Isabel tossed her napkin on the table. “I know you did it. How could you? Your own brother?”
Dutch’s ears rang, clear and sharp and loud as the bell had earlier. Sitting at the table, he felt like he was watching a six-car pileup, helpless to stop it.
Vargas leaned back in his chair, picked up his wineglass and drank. Maybe he was stalling for time, but he appeared composed, as if he wasn’t the least bit worried. “This subject is Pandora’s box. If you insist on removing the lid, you’ll never be able to put it back on. It’ll change everything for you. I ask you, as someone who has loved you from the day you were born, to let this go.”
“Why did you kill him?” Isabel pressed, ignoring the warning. “For power? For money?”
“Who told you this?” Vargas asked.
“You don’t get to ask me questions. Not until you’ve answered mine.”
“Isabel, I’ve only sought to protect you. Let me do so now. Drop this.”
“Tell me. Why did you kill my father? I have a right to know.”
“I didn’t kill your father,” Vargas said.
“Damn you to hell! May God strike you dead for lying to my face. I loved you, looked up to you, when all along...” Her voice trailed off as tears fell from her eyes.
Vargas sighed and clucked his tongue. “My brother and I reached an impasse, where only one of us could survive, yes, but I didn’t kill your father. Because...I’m your father.”
Silence. Complete and total silence.
Isabel blinked at Vargas. The shock in her eyes was palpable.
It was one of those surreal, precarious moments. Dutch was too stunned to move, afraid the tiniest action on his part could tip the scales in the wrong direction.
“Your mother and I had an affair. It’s the reason my wife left me,” Vargas said, the words flowing unpolished, tripping over one another in a rush. “It’s not something I’m proud of. When she got pregnant, Luis suspected the baby wasn’t his. After you were born, the doctors found cancer in your mother. Metastatic. Stage four. She was gone so fast. The day we buried her, Luis sat me down, told me that you were the last piece of your mother that he had left. Then he recounted a story from the Bible. The judgment of Solomon.” Vargas’s eyes turned glassy and the heavy emotion in his voice was undeniable. “He told me that either you were his and all would be forgiven between us. Or he would cut you in two like the baby in the story and we could each keep half of you. He claimed you, and I let him, to protect you. It was the price for peace that he demanded I pay. But I’m your father.”
“No.” The clipped reply emanated disbelief. “This is just another lie,” Isabel said, shaking her head. “You never answered my question. You’ll never tell me the truth, will you?” She shoved her chair back and stood. “You’re not even sorry that you killed him. Are you?”
“I have no regrets.” Vargas got up and came around the table. “It’s no lie.” He wrapped her in a bear hug. “I’m your father.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, lifting her hands away from him as if disgusted that they were touching. “Are you the leader of