Adriana smiled politely and tipped her head in his direction, acknowledging the compliment.
Monique stepped in, a little too eagerly, and introduced the two. “This is my friend Adriana. She is from Spain and was visiting the other day. I told her I was coming to Mexico for a gathering. She’s actually never been to your country before, so I thought she might enjoy taking in the sights and culture of the real Mexico.”
Espinoza’s grin broadened. Both eyebrows raised just below his high forehead and messy, short black hair. “Never? Well, you have come to the right place. I would be happy to teach you about our local customs and culture. Guadalajara is a fascinating city with many wonderful attractions. And here in Ameca,” his hand waved dramatically in a broad sweep, “we have a vast array of natural wonders for visitors to enjoy.”
The guy sounded more like someone from the board of tourism than a ruthless head of one of the most devious cartels in the world. “Thank you for allowing me to visit your city and your home. I look forward to my stay here.” Adriana bowed a little, letting the host see down the front of her dress a little to further entice his lust. When she rose back up, she could see the move had done its job. He was caught in mid-stare however did nothing to hide it, instead letting her know he was looking.
“We will only be in town for a few days,” Monique explained, interrupting the flirtatious conversation. “I must return to Amsterdam to see to matters of business. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”
Espinoza shrugged. The champagne sloshed around in the nearly empty glass. “Of course I do. It seems like all I have time for is work, but that is the nature of the beast, is it not?” He laughed loudly,and Monique joined in. When the laughter died off, his eyes remained on Adriana. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Please forgive my rudeness. You two are standing here in the entrance, and you should be inside with the other guests, drinking and having a good time. Please, come this way.” He motioned them in with an open palm.
The women obliged and stepped through the doorway as the gate opened behind them to admit another car.
Espinoza led them through the first short hallway that opened into a vast living area. The sloped ceiling rose dramatically to the second floor where a landing overlooked the entire room. Wrought iron Spanish crosses, doubling as sconces with burning candles, hung every six feet along the walls, each separated by a solid glass window. A few Corinthian leather sofas were pushed against the wall to provide more space in the middle for the guests to mingle.
The room was full of people dressed in high-end suits and gowns. From the looks of it, there had to be close to sixty guests. Adriana floated by a tall man with three military medals dangling from his dress uniform. He was talking jovially in an English accent about one of his exporting businesses as he sipped on a glass of scotch. Two younger women were latching onto every word that dripped out of his mouth.
Escorts, clearly.
Espinoza led Monique and Adriana through the mass of chatting guests to a bar where a man in a tuxedo was busily pouring martinis. “What would you like?” Espinoza asked, turning to face the two women.
“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” Monique answered. “Hendricks if you have it.”
The bartender nodded.
“If you have any blue agave tequila, I’ll take that. Straight up,” Adriana said.
The bartender gave another nod and set to work on fixing their drinks.
Espinoza grinned, twisting his head to the left, clearly impressed. “I’ll have a tequila as well,” he said to the bartender and then turned his attention back to Adriana. “We have a wonderful tequila from this region. The agave plants are grown and harvested by local farmers before they’re taken to the distillery.”
“Now you have me excited,” Adriana lied, their host oblivious.
The bartender finished pouring the drinks and passed them across the bar to the guests and his employer. Espinoza raised his glass for a toast. “To traveling the world and experiencing new things.”
The ladies lifted their glasses, and the three clinked them together. Espinoza and Adriana downed their tequilas while Monique sipped on her beverage.
“Would you like to see the rest of my humble abode?” he asked after returning the shot glasses to the bartender.
“Of course. You have a beautiful home,” Adriana said.
“Please, by all means have a look around. I would show you myself, but I must tend to all my guests so I don’t appear biased. I’m sure you understand.”
“Absolutely, Francisco,” Monique replied pleasantly. “I’ve been here before. I can show her around.”
“Perfecto,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, one of my business associates just arrived, and I’d hate to seem snobbish to him.”
Espinoza walked away, patting people on the back as he weaved his way back toward the entrance.
“Let’s have a look upstairs first,” Monique suggested. “Then we can work our way downstairs to see the rest of the home.”
“Sounds good to me,” Adriana agreed. They stepped away from the bar,and she felt free to whisper to her guide. “Seems like an awfully pleasant man to be such a ruthless drug dealer.” She knew looks could be deceiving, but there was no denying Espinoza’s charisma and charm.
“It’s all part of this ridiculous show he puts on. Most of these people are legitimate business associates but are also his customers. He has plenty of distributors throughout the world, but these are the ones with the deepest pockets.”
Adriana frowned. “I thought you said this is an event he put on to show all these people how legit he really is.”
“It is,” she smiled pleasantly, waving to a tall dark-skinned man to her left. He returned the gesture and continued his conversation with an older woman who was speaking with a German accent. “But it’s for them too. While most of them are running multi-billion-dollar companies, they also have underworld ties. That’s the way the planet runs, my dear. It’s hard to get to the top without scraping some of the bottom.”
Adriana felt like she’d read that somewhere before. Maybe the Dutch woman made it up. Either way, the idea sickened her.
“Oh, don’t be so high and mighty,” Monique said, reading her thoughts. “You’ve done awful things. Don’t forget about what happened last night.”
“Fine,” Adriana hissed as they reached the staircase. “We’re all bad people. Now can we just get on with this stupid tour so I can see what we’re working with?”
“Certainly.”
Adriana hated taking the obligatory tour of other people’s homes. It wasn’t a museum. Yet everywhere she went — friends, strangers, anyone — they always felt compelled to show off their master bedrooms, bathrooms, guest rooms, kitchens, living rooms, basements, sometimes even their garages.
This instance was a little different. While Monique pretended to talk about where the Italian tiles came from for the shower or the repurposed hardwood floors in the bedroom, Adriana scoped out the entire layout of the house. She’d already gone over the blueprints and made mental notes of all the exits, hallways, stairs, and other details she felt pertinent. The entire time the Dutch woman showed her around, she pretended to be fascinated by all the stories behind how Espinoza built the home.
The upstairs tour took almost fifteen minutes due to the cavernous size. They were about to return to the stairs and return to the main floor when Adriana saw a face she recognized. A chill shot down her spine and tingled its way up her arms. It was the Chameleon. She was standing next to a tall, strong man with a beard. Adriana recognized him as Jorge Sanchez. She remembered him from her previous research. He was dressed in a fine suit while she was wearing an elegant, white gown that flowed all the way to just behind her heels. She was smiling and chatting with one of the guests as if she was a natural part of the gathering. Adriana turned away and scooted to the nearest wall, obscuring the other woman’s view of her.