Chapter Twenty-Four

One week later, the house phone rang in the penthouse one afternoon shortly after Paulo arrived home from work, and Javier answered it. It was the guards downstairs, requesting clearance for Detective Montoya. Javier gave the okay and let Paulo know.

A minute later, the Detective was standing in the door, handing a large flat envelope to Javier. "Your citizenship papers, Señor, and an application for a passport. However, they are not official. You must stand before a judge and take the oath, and get their signature and seal – then they become official. I have included a card for a judge that often works with the department in just such cases, so he will understand the situation. All you have to do is call and set up an appointment."

Javier thanked him sincerely, and the Detective turned to Paulo, his face grave. "I wish my other business here were as pleasant and welcome as the first. But it is not." He took a deep breath. "I have come to give you advance notice of our next action, old friend. I shouldn't be doing this, but I told the others I would not do it any other way. I am allowing you time to go to your ex-wife's house and remove your children from the premises... before we place the Señora under arrest."

It was as though a bomb had gone off in the room. Paulo's face went white, his jaw dropped, and a moment later his body followed suit as his knees buckled, and he sat hard on the couch behind him. "Sofina? Under arrest? For what?"

"She was part of the plot against Paulo?" Javier interjected sharply on a guess.

Montoya glanced at Javier, hesitated, and nodded, before turning back to Paulo. "I cannot tell you much, but I will tell you this much. We have good evidence that it was she who provided the funds for the second attempt, at least."

Paulo was completely undone. "Sofina?" he repeated, unable to process it. "Paid money to have me killed?" He shook his head, turning to Javier, and continued shaking it as if he could deny it out of existence.

Javier's face was nearly as pained as his friend's, but without the disbelief. He believed it, all too well. Stepping over to Paulo's side, he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I told you," he whispered, far too softly for Montoya to hear. "No one ever really knows another person, not even those closest to them."

"You've seen this before," Paulo averred, speaking as softly as the other, and Javier nodded.

"Far too many times. I'm sorry," he added simply, all too aware how inadequate it was.

He could see Paulo begin to accept it, but... "What am I going to tell the children?" he asked helplessly, speaking to both other men.

"The truth, Paulo." That was from Montoya. "You must be honest with them."

That got another violent head shake. "I can't tell them this!"

"You must!" Montoya said firmly. "They will hear it tomorrow at school – they will hear a million rumors and vicious lies. You must arm them with the truth before then."

Javier nodded agreement. "Tell them the truth – as you know it." Glancing at Montoya, he amended the other man's suggestion. "She has been arrested. You can tell them the charges. But that is all you know for certain at this time. You – and the kids – and I, and the rest of us, will wait to see what comes out at the trial, what evidence is presented, and what the verdict is. Then you can talk together about her guilt or innocence. Not before. For now, it is only an arrest." Looking back at Montoya again, he asked, "What exactly is she being charged with for this arrest?"

It was conspiracy to commit murder – for now, the Detective added, hinting that there was more to come. Paulo wilted, his head in his hands, Javier's hand still on his shoulder. The other men let him be for a minute, then Montoya gently urged him up. "We need to get moving, Paulo. My car is parked downstairs near yours. I will follow you over there, and wait outside until you have brought the children out and left."

"Aren't you afraid I'll tip her off?"

Montoya smiled sadly. "There are several other cars of men already surrounding the house – discreetly. They are waiting for us first." He paused, then went on. "If I may suggest, though... do not linger. Tell them it will only be for a day or two, so they can grab just a few things and leave with you immediately. You can return to the house tomorrow for the rest of their things."

Javier looked at him sharply at that. "You don't expect her to be released on bail quickly?" Montoya glanced at him, but said nothing; the silence itself a message.

At last Paulo was able to make himself stand, and excused himself for a minute to get his jacket. While he was gone, Javier looked solemnly at Montoya. "I'm not going to ask for details, but please, tell me you have more than that."

Montoya paused, but only for a second. "We do. Much more." He placed a level hand before his throat – not cutting it, but as if to say, she's in it up to her neck. Javier got the message, nodded, and looked away, heaving a sigh. Montoya continued studying the cook for a bit longer. Finally, he commented softly, "I do not know your background, Señor – you have been very careful not to say. But I think that I am very glad you have chosen to be on our side here in Ecuador."

Javier looked back at him in surprise, then grinned. "So am I." As Paulo came back out, straightening his suit jacket, he asked, "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No," came the reply. "Stay here, please." He glanced towards the kitchen, grimacing; they hadn't eaten yet. "Stretch out that dinner, if you can – but I don't know if any of us will be very hungry."