“What did you expect? A Swiss bank account number?”
“I just hoped for something more obvious,” he said, examining it carefully. “El Viejo isn’t that sophisticated, and this wasn’t the CIA.”
“What did his say?”
He just shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t remember.”
“So if this is connected to the other message, what good is it now, anyway? Plus, after fourteen years, surely the money is gone.”
“I could get the other Chinese fortune easily. I’m sure it’s still in the files in the FBI office up in Miami, since this part of the case is still considered pending. And we don’t know if the money’s gone. Viejo couldn’t even get to it until six months ago, and his transactions are closely watched. If he has it and is washing it through a system, it would have to be in very, very small amounts. Plus, the only person believed to know its exact location, Esteban Jimenez, is dead.” He turned it over and looked at the numbers. “One-zero-three-eight.”
“Maybe a combination lock or a safe deposit box?” she suggested.
“Or an address. Maybe the other one has a street name on it. Although I seemed to recall it had some numbers, too.” He studied the words again before he looked at her. “Can you remember exactly how you got this?”
“There was an afternoon meeting, to plan the delivery I guess, and I was shuffled off to watch Lourdes. When I went into her room to find her, she had two fortune cookies.”
“How did she get them?”
“I have no idea. She gave me one, and after that I was totally wrapped up in my message. She was barely ten, and not really aware of the business going on in that house. I doubt she knew that she had something valuable.”
“Maybe Ramon gave her his on purpose,” he said. “Maybe giving one to her was part of the fail-safe system. Maybe he suspected someone was undercover. I wasn’t in that meeting.”
“But you were in on the delivery that night.”
He must have heard the accusatory note in her voice. “You weren’t supposed to be there,” he said. “You were supposed to be at the movies with Lourdes, both of you out of the house.”
“But Juan Santiago got sick, and he was—one of . . . you. Oh.”
Dan nodded. “Viejo decided to stay home at the last minute, so Juan—Joel is his real name—had to pretend to be sick, so Viejo didn’t somehow get word of the bust before agents got to him. I didn’t know Ramon would insist on taking you in his place. When I saw you there . . .” His brows drew tight at the memory.
“You made me run away.”
“I knew bullets would fly. I knew I was supposed to be ‘killed.’ It was the best I could do for you under the circumstances. I thought you’d go back to Viejo’s and be put in government protection. That was my plan all along, but when you disappeared . . .”
“You never tried to find me.”
“I knew you’d be fine, especially once they were all under arrest. I knew you’d survive, and if I had found you, I’d have had to tell you the truth.”
She stepped away, a wave of familiar hate rolling over him. “God forbid you’d be honest.”
“There was nothing to be gained. For either of us.”
“Whatever. It’s history.” Her history, like it or not.
“No, it’s not.” He gripped her wrist, demanding her attention. “I never wanted your role to be revealed, Maggie. I never wanted you involved in the trial. That was always paramount to me, and one of the reasons I pushed to ‘die’ at the scene, so I didn’t have to reveal to a jury where I got some of the leads. Without me testifying, it was just a matter of presenting the evidence we found at the warehouse. I never intended for you to get hurt.”
“Well, you may not have intended it, but what you did hurt like hell. Par for the course.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve been lied to since I was born. My mother spewed them in her once-a-year calls to me, my husband wasn’t the most honest dude to walk the face of the earth, and, of course, there was you, the granddaddy of liars in my life. So forgive me if I’m not about to shower you with trust. You have zero credibility.”
She pulled away and closed her fingertips around the fortune he held. “So, I’ll take that.” She slid it from his fingers. “Until we