What an appetite you had, guapa!” Constanza kissed the crown of Maricruz’s head. “You’d grab onto my breast and not let go until every drop was gone. And while you suckled you’d stare up at me with those eyes, and I swore you were talking to me.” Constanza sighed softly. Her breath smelled of chocolate and garlic. “Those were the happiest days of my life.”
“Why did he take me away from you?”
A tear slid down Constanza’s pallid cheek. “Why did he do anything, guapa? Out of fear.”
“Fear?”
“Of course. Maceo Encarnación was riddled with fear. He came from nothing, and to nothing he was certain he’d return. Oh, not dust to dust; that is the fate of every human being, great and humble alike. He was terrified that everything he built—everything he had amassed—would be taken away from him. You were one of those things.”
“He thought you’d take me away from him?”
“Not physically, perhaps. I think he was frightened I’d teach you things he didn’t want you to know.”
“Like what a shit he was.”
“He was one of those people who ruled with absolute power. He no longer understood the world around him. He had lost touch with people.”
“Even those who tried to get close to him?”
“Oh, especially those, guapa. He was afraid they’d betray him, take something precious from him.”
“He was fucking crazy,” Maricruz breathed.
“Guapa, I am so proud of you. You broke away from him. You left and never looked back.”
“Until now.”
Constanza squeezed her. “For which I’m eternally grateful.”
“You won’t feel that way when I tell you why I came.” So Maricruz told her the story of how she had landed in Beijing, how she had ferreted out Ouyang Jidan, seduced him, married him, guided his business with her father. “And now,” she said, in conclusion, “I’ve come back to take care of Maceo’s business with Los Zetas.”
Constanza shook her head, her expression grave. “I’m grateful, because you have been brought back to me, but now you must stop this nonsense. You must sever all ties with this part of his business. Your destiny will take you down another road.”
“But, Mama—”
“No buts, Maricruz. In one way or another, I’ve lived with these criminals all my life. They took the use of my legs from me, they took you from me. I will not see that happen to you. Only tragedy can result if you continue.” She tilted her daughter’s head up so their eyes locked. “You’ve been foolish enough to marry a man too much like your father. That is a tragedy in itself. But think, guapa, what will happen when he impregnates you. He’ll never let that child out of his sight. You’ll be tied to him for the rest of your life.”
Maricruz thought of what Colonel Sun had said about Angél, which had both shocked and infuriated her. She knew her mother was right. She knew Bourne was right. She realized how foolish she had been to follow in her father’s footsteps. For what, for what? She knew what she had to do, what path she needed to follow. All that was required now was for her to summon the courage to change course. She had done it before; she could do it again.
Then, hearing a rustling in the hallway just outside the door, she looked up to see a heavyset woman bustle in with a tray laden with food and drink. She swallowed the feeling of being invaded and put a smile on her face.
Bernarda was already in Constanza’s room when Bourne burst in. Mother and daughter were sitting up in bed, each holding a mug of hot chocolate as Bernarda arranged the plates of food and the cutlery on their laps.
Without a word, Bourne removed the mugs.
“You!” Constanza said. “What are you doing here?”
“He brought me to you,” Maricruz said. “I don’t think I would have had the courage to come without him.”
Bourne sniffed first one mug, then the other.
Manny came up beside him. “Señor, what are you doing?”
Bourne shoved one mug under his nose. “What does this smell like?”
He sniffed. “Why, chocolate, of course.”
“What is this?” Constanza demanded. “Bernarda makes me a hot chocolate twice a day. She makes it so thick and dark, lately it’s the only thing I can get down.”
“She makes it thick and dark for a very good reason.” Bourne addressed Manny. “Chocolate and what else?”
Manny took a deeper inhale from the steaming mug. “I don’t know…” His brow wrinkled. “Garlic?”
Bourne looked at Bernarda. “When heated, arsenic gives off the scent of garlic.”
“Arsenic?” Constanza said. “That’s ridiculous.”
“The first clue was Manny telling me how your skin was turning bluish, then he told me about your bouts of confusion. Constanza, we have to get you to a hospital. You’re being slowly poisoned to death.”
Bernarda fell to her knees, her hands clasped before her, as if she were praying in church.
“I loved you. I treated you like one of the family,” Constanza said in a slightly breathless voice. “How could you do this?”
Bernarda, moaning and sobbing uncontrollably, rocked back and forth, seemingly incapable of answering.
“I’ll get it out of her.” Sliding off the bed, Maricruz stepped in front of the kneeling woman and, bending slightly, gripped her throat with such force that Bernarda cried out.
“You’ll confess,” Maricruz said, her flinty edge reappearing with renewed vigor. “You’ll tell us everything or I will end your treacherous life right here.”
Bourne, who had been inclined to intervene should Bernarda try to escape, decided it would be far more informative to watch Maricruz at work. He had already witnessed the soft side of her, now it was time to further study the courageous, iron-willed woman who had crossed continents, isolating herself, to defeat the will of her father.
Manny stepped forward. “Señor, perhaps the police should be called. This isn’t right.”
Bourne held him back. “You know better, Manny. The police have no place here.”
“That was Maceo’s way,” Manny said stiffly.
“In the end, it’s my way, too,” Constanza told him.
The two men watched as Maricruz’s grip on Bernarda turned vicious. Her nails, digging into the sides of the cook’s neck, drew blood. Constanza seemed mesmerized; she crawled to the foot of the bed, where her daughter had the cook pinned to her knees.
“I brought you into this house at your cousin’s request,” Constanza said. Despite her unnatural pallor, her eyes blazed as in the old days when she was a young woman in full flower. The presence of the beloved daughter she had been convinced she’d never see again had reinvigorated her, for the time being rallying her against the pernicious effects of the small amounts of arsenic Bernarda had been stirring into her hot chocolate. “She told me that you had been mistreated, that your stepfather beat you, that he even turned you out of the house when he was sufficiently drunk.”
“All this is true, señora.” Bernarda’s words came out thin and half strangled. “This I swear.”
“It is not possible to believe you now.” Constanza crept closer to her. “Did I mistreat you in some way—any way?”
“No, señora.”
“Did I not take you in, pay you a fair wage, give you presents for Christmas and your birthday?”
“You did, señora.”
“Did I not carefully listen to your woes and help you to the best of my abilities?”
“You did, señora.”
At last, Constanza sat on the foot of the bed. Without warning, she slapped Bernarda hard across one cheek, then the other, causing the woman to whimper and weep again.
“Then what the fuck is your explanation for poisoning me?”
Bernarda hung her head, and when she spoke her voice was just above a whisper. “Blood is thicker than water, señora.”
Constanza’s eyes opened wide in a combination of shock and horror. “That’s it? ‘Blood is thicker than water’? That’s your explanation?”
“I was ordered to do—Maceo’s family still holds power,” Bernarda murmured. “People have long memories, especially in our family, where bitterness and hate are taken in with mother’s milk.”
With a guttural sound in the back of her throat, Maricruz switched her grip on the cook and with one swift movement broke her neck. She slumped as Bernarda fell to the floor.
In pain, Maricruz turned to her mother. “Now we take you to the hospital, Mama.”