Anne Marie Duquette

Castillo's Bride


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pretty—and ever the cynic. Full of teenage attitude. Tanya took after neither of her dark-eyed, dark-haired parents with their law-abiding ways.

      “Tanya, please. How are you two holding up?” Aurora asked. She tried to stroke Dorian’s shaking shoulders through the bars, but Dorian pulled away.

      “How does it look, Rory?” Tanya defiantly refused to call her aunt. “I’m dirty, my hair’s a mess, the food stinks. I need a cigarette and my mother’s a nervous wreck.” Tanya gently drew Dorian away from the bars, led her to the prison cot to sit. “Wipe your nose, Mom. You look gross.”

      Aurora compared the two women as Tanya passed Dorian a piece of questionable-looking toilet tissue from a roll on the concrete floor.

      Dorian was tired and far too thin, despite Aurora’s regular deliveries of Dorian’s favorite nonperishable foods. Today she’d brought a bag of trail mix, some juice boxes and chocolate bars, which Tanya grabbed eagerly. Dorian wore a defeatist attitude along with her ill-fitting prison jumpsuit. Tanya, on the other hand, seemed more than just fine. She was actually thriving amid the adversity.

      Tanya’s tough—but tough enough to survive life in prison? She’s hard enough to love as it is. What would prison do to that small, remaining lovable part?

      Tanya wrapped a thin gray blanket around her mother’s still-shaking shoulders and patted them before returning to the bars.

      “Mom needs news about Dad, and better food. She can’t keep down the prison slop. Nerves, I guess.”

      “My nerves are just fine,” Dorian said.

      “And rodents get into the dry stuff you bring, and she won’t eat it. I’ve made arrangements with her—” Tanya jerked her stubborn chin in the direction of the female guard. “She’s got a sick kid at home. You give her fifty now and twenty a week—and she’ll give Mom more food, extra blankets, stuff like that.”

      Aurora gazed into eyes that reminded her so much of her own. “I see that sophomore Spanish course stuck with you.”

      “Despite failing it?” Tanya asked flippantly.

      “Grades aren’t the only indicator of intelligence,” Aurora replied.

      “And what about being in jail, Tanya?” Dorian threw in. “How smart is that?”

      For just a moment, Tanya looked like a little girl, then she was herself again. “Shut up, Mom. So, what’s the deal? Any news from the lawyers? Or are they still milking you dry? You know I’ve got registration next month. It’s my junior year.”

      “You hope, kid.”

      Tanya swore, the ugly expletive at odds with her pretty mouth. “You don’t have everything arranged yet?”

      “The lawyers can’t get you out of jail. Neither can the U.S. embassy. You have to go to trial. They’re still working on getting access to the bank funds, but I’m having problems with the power of attorney. And I’m running out of money because I’ve been making your parents’ payroll.”

      “But I thought you told me Jordan Castillo was our ticket out of here,” Dorian cried.

      “I said maybe, sis. And he can’t do us any good if he’s dead. Someone’s trying to kill him. I—”

      Tanya interrupted to swear again, but this time with more color and graphic description. Aurora felt her own temper rise.

      “I’m doing my best. And skip the tough-girl act with me, Tanya,” Aurora spat out. “I was on my own and self-supporting when I was sixteen. And I didn’t end up in jail, either.”

      “Yawn, big-time,” Tanya drawled.

      “Sorry you find me so dull, but frankly, I’m tired of your mouth. To be perfectly honest, my sister is my first concern, then her husband. You—Miss Gutless Wonder—are at the bottom of my list. Using and smuggling drugs, then letting your mother take the blame, doesn’t impress me one little bit.”

      “So I should shut up and listen?” Tanya asked, pantomiming a yawn this time.

      “Exactly. Now here’s my plan.”

      Aurora gave a detailed and methodical explanation, starting with how she’d found the treasure galleon Jordan Castillo wanted. She practically held the diving rights in her hand. U.S. waters extended twelve miles west, stopped at the Canadian border to the north and ended at the Mexican Coronado Islands to the south. Any waters beyond those boundaries were classified as international. Salvage laws were basically “finders, keepers,” and the finders merely had to register their claims. Aurora hadn’t yet filed her claim; maintaining the location’s secrecy had prevented her from taking that step so far. Once Jordan agreed to a partnership she would register.

      “So you think you’ll get enough to bribe our way out?” Dorian asked.

      “That’s the plan, if Jordan Castillo stays alive,” Aurora said. “He should be getting out of the hospital next week.”

      “You’ve got yourself a job and a half,” Tanya said, checking her mother again before turning back to Aurora. “Do you really think there’s treasure on the ship?” The teen’s cynical expression actually revealed some excitement.

      “Yeah, or I wouldn’t have been able to find the one piece I did so easily. There are no records of the San Rafael being salvaged by the early Spanish—the water’s far too deep for prescuba. Any deeper and it would almost be too much for modern diving.”

      Tanya’s hands clenched tighter on the bars. “But you did it, Rory. You found the ship. I know you can find more money.”

      “Bullion,” she corrected. “If it’s there. That’s my job. Yours is to talk to that guard with the sick baby and learn the going rate for escape bribes. The lawyers can’t do any more until your trial, and they said your conviction is a given, despite Dorian’s trying to take the blame for you. See if the guard has any connections that could get us information on your father, too.”

      “Oh, Rory, I wish I was going with you.”

      “Home, or treasure-driving?” Aurora asked, and Tanya flushed. “Get your priorities straight, you little fool.” Aurora patted her back jeans pocket. “I’ve got a hundred dollars you can give to your friend here. Get my sister eating—and get her another blanket. While you’re at it, ask for a bucket and soap and clean up this cell. Anything happens to her, Tanya, and—”

      “I know, I know, you hold me responsible.”

      “More than that. I leave you here to rot.”

      Tanya blanched. “You…you aren’t serious.”

      “You bet I am.” Aurora’s eyes narrowed. “You might be able to push your parents around, but when it comes to me—forget it. You accept blame for the drugs and get your parents out of jail, I do everything I can for you. You keep hiding your head in the sand…then you and Dorian are a package deal. She gets a guilty sentence, you go down with her. Your father gets a guilty sentence, you go down with him. If either one of them dies of illness, then vaya con Dios and adiòs, amiga.”

      “You coldhearted bitch!” Tanya’s face was harsh and ugly.

      “She’d do it, too, Tanya. She always does what she says, ever since she was a kid.” Dorian’s gaze held un-spoken animosity mingled with despair.

      “You’re old enough to know right from wrong,” Aurora said. “Better only one of you in jail than all three. Take care of my sister—or else.” Aurora deliberately moved away from Tanya, and injected a pleasant note in her voice as she addressed her sister. “Dori, I have to go. I’ll be back in a week or so, okay?” Dorian slowly nodded, the animosity gone. The prison allowed only weekly visits, and Aurora needed to come up with more cash.

      She slowly pivoted and cautiously approached the guard. “You look after my sister and her child,” she said