Chapter 33
A Grand playing among flowers in the mud
Hidden Secrets
Leona Palmer Haag
Chapter 33
The lucky thirteenth-floor apartment was silent after Monica
left. Almost cold. Except it was early afternoon in Mexico City and the
thermometer read seventy-two inside and out. Nick was sure the chill came from
Monica taking her sunshine with her. He returned to his desk and sat before the
computer screen as he propped his phone at his ear—double-timing on his job.
Talking to one contact while he emailed another.
"Hey, I've got an email almost ready to send you,"
Kevin said an hour later when he answered his phone.
"About?" Nick pried.
"Just watch for it. Give me an hour or so."
Matt agreed. He hung up and finished looking over the
assignments he needed to complete. He checked his watch. It was time to get
ready for work. He changed into nondescript clothing and left the apartment.
Matthew Jensen sat on a little gaudily green-painted chair in
the shade under a spreading tree in an outdoor café. He lazily watched tourists
walk by as merchants peddled their wares. It appeared he was on vacation. The
camera sitting on the table before him stated it. His khaki shorts and bright
yellow shirt made it clear.
"Mister, I take your picture," a kid offered with a
grin, exposing two crooked front teeth as he spoke perfect English.
Matt shrugged. If the kid ran off with his camera he'd join
the crowds and shop for a new one—with the company credit card. He'd lose maybe
three photos—all of sunsets from the apartment window. He pushed the camera
toward the kid and leaned back in his seat and smiled extra wide.
The kid took three shots, then set the camera down and held
out his hand. Matt reached into his pocket, then slapped three coins on the
table and lifted his hand. "All I have."
The kid's smile faded. "Not enough, mister. I take three
pictures. That's only money for one. You are rich American trying to steal from
a poor little boy. Mi Madre is sick. Mi padre—muerto. Dead. I have five little
sisters."
"Five?"
"Si, Senor. Five. Cinco."
Matt had money. He always did. But he wasn't about to give it
to a street beggar. "How much more?" he asked, feigning distress and
fumbling with one hand in his pocket.
"I'll give you break. Five dollars," the kid said,
acting like he'd mulled the amount over and was offering an excellent deal.
"American?" Matt asked as if stunned.
"Si, Senor. American dollars. I know you have it. You're
rich. You're from New York City."
"No, I'm not. If you can guess where I'm really from,
I'll give you ten American dollars. Where do you think I'm from?"
The kid's face nervously twitched. He debated silently.
"Los Angeles! Hollywood! You are movie star."
"Wrong. That was two guesses. Do you want to try again?
If you fail, I'll keep the five I owe you, but if you guess right, I'll give
you ten. You get one more try."
The boy looked around helplessly as if for some clue. Then he
studied Matt's shirt. "Daytona Beach, Ron Jon Surf Shop."
Matt knew the words on the front of the shirt Monica had
bought him while passing through Florida a few weeks before, but he let
surprise fill his eyes. "I think you cheated!" He pulled out his
wallet. He handed the boy a ten-dollar bill and added, "You're a good
reader."
"I finished school already," the kid proudly said.
Matt leaned forward with interest. "How did you do it so
early? You're what, maybe ten or eleven-years old?"
"I'm smart. I'm brilliant. My teachers tell me so, and
it's true." He thumped his chest.
Matt chuckled and nodded as he pulled his camera back into
his hand. He could see the kid had something extra about him. The boy sat down
for a minute and told him about the school he had attended, then spotted a
couple eying a piece of pottery. "Work is waiting," he said, jumping
up and excusing himself. Matt watched the kid offer to take a picture and get
the desired amount of money he wanted in return. The kid was observant, smooth
and good at what he did. Maybe he'd grow up to be somebody. Maybe, but maybe
not.
Later that afternoon, Matt downloaded the photos he'd taken
and scrolled through them. The ones of him were all the same—except for the man
in the background. First came his face almost straight on. Then his profile as
he turned away. Last was of mostly his back. Nick leaned back in his chair and
studied the stranger. It was funny what a little bit of investigative training
did to a mind. He sent the photos to Kevin with a note: Got any idea who this
guy is?"
"Yeah, you." He got back in reply.
"Not the good-looking one, the guy in the
background."
"Will get back with you on that ASAP," Kevin sent
back.
Matt laughed. It was stupid sending Kevin on a wild goose
chase when there were more pressing matters at hand. He pulled up his email and
started going through the long list. He popped onto the one Kevin had promised
earlier and quickly read: Hey, buddy, check out the dossier.
Matt opened the attachment and stared at a photo of him with
his arm draped over Jenn's shoulder as Katie smiled at the camera from her lap.
Samuel & Claudia Morgan with their daughter Katrina, he read.
Matt rubbed his hand over his eyes and starred at the photo
even closer. It was so well done that no one would guess it was really Nicholas
Washington's arm holding his wife, and Matt's mug shot had been patched in. He
groaned. What was up now?
"What's up, Kevin?" he asked, using his keyboard.
"Did you read the whole thing?"
Matt groaned again. "Yeah," he typed. "But the
details don't explain everything." Matt watched his computer screen for a
reply for several minutes. Nothing came.
Monica returned and looked over his shoulder at the photos.
"So you're now Samuel Morgan? It's amazing how I can wake up in the
morning thinking we're married to each other only to discover before dinner
that you've got a wife and kid already."
Matt shoved back from his computer. "Yeah, but chances
are I won't see them before the divorce is finalized and my partner gets them
back. What about this guy though, do you know him?"
Monica slid onto Nick's lap and studied the stranger in the
background. She finally shook her head and said, "No. I've never seen him
before. He looks kind of like my former husband, but…"
Nick growled in her ear. "Try current husband. Alias
lover."
Monica laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck in a
strong embrace.
Matt's computer screen blinked to life. The incoming message
read: Aaron Kipler. Tax evasion.
"Who is that?" Monica whispered in his ear.
Matt reached around her and typed the question to Kevin.
"I'm sending the file," he replied.
Matt and Monica waited. Kevin then asked, "So, we send
you to Mexico City to save the world and you end up hunting down tax evaders?
He only owes Uncle Sam half a million dollars. Is that worth our time around
here?"
Matt laughed and typed back, "It might help pay off my
million dollar debt."
"Mitchell kissed it off, remember?" Kevin replied.
"Oh, yeah. Well, then he can give half the half million
to me as a bonus"
"LOL. Get to work. Real work. Or I'll have Mitchell add
you to our sanitation crew. The toilet on the second floor backed up. What a
flood. Niagara Falls through the ceiling below. Come on home, handy man."
"Got the download. Gotta go and read it. Thanks," Matt
replied before signing off.
"It will have to wait until after dinner," Monica
said, pulling her husband to his feet. She gave him a warm kiss and led him out
of the apartment to a restaurant she had spotted on her way home that evening.
End Chapter 33
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