Chapter 4 - THE BROTHER WHO KILLED A BROTHER
Gabriel Vargas died twenty-one years before I was born.
Until that day in New Mexico, everyone agreed on how.
His convoy had been ambushed outside a restaurant.
Two vehicles blocked the street.
Gunmen opened fire.
Gabriel died before reaching the hospital.
A rival organization took credit.
The Vargas family retaliated.
Six months of violence followed.
Mateo's father became sick.
The old council rose.
Everything changed.
Except, apparently, the truth.
We returned to San Rosario that night.
Mateo ordered every archived file connected to Gabriel's death brought to the estate.
Police reports.
Medical records.
Photographs.
Internal Vargas documents.
By midnight, the dining room looked like a war room.
I should have been sleeping.
Nobody even suggested it anymore.
Julian stood at one end of the table.
He hadn't spoken much since learning Gabriel wasn't his biological father.
I understood why.
I'd spent a single day learning my father wasn't who I'd believed.
Julian had lost the identity he'd carried forty years.
Mateo opened an autopsy summary.
“Gabriel was struck by three bullets.”
Rafael nodded.
“We knew that.”
“One entered from the rear.”
Julian frowned.
“The attackers were in front.”
Mateo looked up.
“Exactly.”
Rafael pulled out crime-scene diagrams.
The convoy had stopped facing south.
Gunmen fired from two positions ahead and to the driver's side.
No attacker had been behind Gabriel.
“So someone inside the vehicle shot him?” I asked.
Everyone stared at me.
“What?”
Mateo looked back at the report.
“Possibly.”
“Who was in the car?”
“Gabriel. His driver. Two guards.”
“Alive?”
“The driver died.”
“And the guards?”
“One died later.”
“The other?”
Rafael went silent.
I already knew.
“Esteban?”
He nodded.
Gabriel's younger brother.
Julian's biological father.
A man who had slept with Gabriel's wife.
A man who later helped control the family after Gabriel died.
Mateo sat back.
“Esteban testified that Gabriel was already hit when the rear bullet entered.”
“Who fired it?”
“He claimed one attacker came around the vehicle.”
“Witness?”
“No.”
Julian laughed bitterly.
“Of course not.”
Mateo called a forensic specialist he trusted.
The man arrived before dawn.
He examined photographs of Gabriel's wounds.
Then he pointed to one.
“See the powder tattooing?”
Mateo leaned closer.
“That means?”
“Close-range discharge.”
“How close?”
“Probably less than three feet.”
The room went silent.
Gabriel had been shot in the back from inside or directly beside his own vehicle.
Julian stared at the photograph.
“My whole life…”
His voice broke.
“I thought rival gunmen killed him.”
Mateo looked furious.
“So did I.”
Then I remembered Esperanza's letter.
“Elena discovered what happened.”
“How?” Rafael asked.
Julian looked toward me.
“Your mother worked for a medical billing office before you were born.”
I nodded slowly.
“She handled hospital insurance records.”
Mateo understood first.
“Gabriel's autopsy.”
Julian nodded.
“Elena found a duplicate report.”
“Different from the official one?”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
Julian closed his eyes.
“That Gabriel's rear wound was consistent with a near-contact shot.”
Mateo cursed.
“So she knew someone close murdered him.”
“She told me the week before we tried to leave San Rosario.”
“And you didn't believe her?”
“I believed her enough to run.”
Julian looked ashamed.
“But not enough to understand what we were fighting.”
Mateo paced.
“Where is Esteban now?”
Rafael answered.
“Miami.”
“Get him.”
“No.”
Everyone turned toward Julian.
“If Esteban realizes we know, he runs.”
Mateo's eyes narrowed.
“So?”
“So make him think we're still confused.”
I listened as two men who hated each other began thinking the same way.
Maybe that's what family did.
Mateo called Esteban.
He put the phone on speaker.
His uncle answered warmly.
“Mateo.”
“Uncle.”
“I heard about your little swim.”
Mateo looked at me.
“So news travels.”
“It always does.”
Mateo continued.
“I need your help with an old family matter.”
“What?”
“Julian.”
Silence.
Barely noticeable.
But there.
Esteban said, “Julian is dead.”
Mateo looked at Julian.
“Apparently not.”
Longer silence.
“What are you saying?”
“He returned.”
Esteban breathed out.
“Where?”
“At my house.”
“Why?”
“He claims Esperanza Mendoza's grandson is alive.”
I watched Julian.
He looked impressed.
Mateo was lying with terrifying ease.
Esteban's voice became careful.
“Impossible.”
“That's what I thought.”
“What does Julian want?”
“Money.”
Julian almost laughed.
Mateo continued.
“He claims he can challenge the succession agreement.”
Esteban immediately responded.
“There is no valid challenge.”
Too fast.
Mateo smiled.
“I didn't say there was.”
Silence.
Then Esteban laughed.
“Forgive me. Old memories.”
“We should meet.”
“Tomorrow?”
Mateo glanced at Julian.
“Tonight.”
A pause.
“I'm in Miami.”
“My plane can collect you.”
Another pause.
“Very well.”
After the call, Mateo turned to Rafael.
“Track his phones.”
Then to Daniel, his security commander.
“Find out who he calls first.”
Six minutes later, Esteban placed a call.
Not to a lawyer.
Not to family.
To Hector Salazar.
Mateo smiled without humor.
“There it is.”
They traced a second call from Hector.
To an unknown prepaid number.
Then another.
To a storage facility across the city.
Mateo's men reached it first.
Inside a rented unit they found boxes of old Vargas records.
One contained hospital files.
Another contained ledgers.
And beneath them, wrapped inside oilcloth, was a pistol.
Twenty-one years old.
The serial number had been filed off.
The forensic specialist examined it.
“If the barrel hasn't been replaced, we might still compare it to bullet markings from Gabriel's autopsy evidence.”
Mateo stared.
“Do it.”
But there was something else in the storage unit.
A videotape.
Label:
GABRIEL - PRIVATE.
Rafael found an old player.
The video opened in a dim office.
Gabriel Vargas sat behind a desk.
He looked exhausted.
“If anything happens to me, this recording goes to my son.”
Julian stopped breathing.
Gabriel continued.
“Julian, there is something I should have told you years ago.”
Julian sat down.
“You are my son.”
He covered his face.
“I don't care what blood says.”
I looked at Julian.
He looked toward me.
Neither spoke.
Gabriel continued.
“But your mother betrayed our marriage with my brother Esteban.”
Mateo's jaw tightened.
“I forgave her. I never forgave him.”
Gabriel leaned toward the camera.
“Esteban believes this gives him a claim over you. It doesn't.”
He paused.
“The more dangerous truth is that Esteban has been stealing from the family for years.”
Mateo looked at Rafael.
“Stealing what?”
Gabriel answered.
“Money. Weapons. Shipping contracts. Enough to build his own network.”
Then:
“I confronted him yesterday.”
Julian whispered, “The day before the ambush.”
Gabriel looked directly into the camera.
“He told me that if I expose him, I will lose more than the business.”
A pause.
“He said he could take my son.”
Julian closed his eyes.
The tape flickered.
Then Gabriel said:
“If I die, do not trust the official story.”
Silence.
“The enemy will not come from outside this family.”
The video ended.
Nobody moved.
The next afternoon, Esteban arrived at Mateo's mansion.
He walked inside smiling.
He hugged Mateo.
Then he saw Julian standing in the library.
His smile disappeared.
“Hello,” Julian said.
Esteban looked as if he'd seen the dead.
Then he looked at me.
His eyes stayed on my face too long.
“You're the boy.”
I said nothing.
Esteban looked at Mateo.
“This is dangerous.”
“For whom?”
“All of us.”
Mateo closed the doors.
“We found Gabriel's video.”
Esteban's face changed.
Barely.
But enough.
Julian stepped forward.
“Did you kill him?”
Esteban laughed.
“No.”
“Did you sleep with my mother?”
His expression hardened.
“That is none of this boy's concern.”
“It became my concern when I found out you're my biological father.”
For the first time, Esteban lost control.
He looked at Mateo.
“You had no right to tell him.”
Julian went still.
“You knew.”
Esteban realized too late.
Julian whispered:
“You knew the test existed.”
Esteban backed away.
Mateo said quietly:
“Sit down, Uncle.”
Esteban looked toward the doors.
Two guards blocked them.
“You think you can interrogate me?”
Mateo's voice became cold.
“I think I can ask why the man who supposedly loved Gabriel helped murder his girlfriend, hunted his grandson, and spent two decades erasing evidence.”
Esteban's smile vanished.
“I never ordered Elena's death.”
Julian lunged.
Mateo stopped him.
Esteban continued.
“That was Hector.”
Silence.
Mateo stared.
“You're blaming Salazar?”
“I told him to contain the situation.”
“Contain?”
“I never said kill.”
Julian spat:
“You murdered Gabriel.”
Esteban's eyes hardened.
“No.”
Then he looked directly at Julian.
“I loved Gabriel.”
Julian laughed.
“You slept with his wife.”
Esteban's face twisted.
“I loved him more than she ever did.”
That stunned everyone.
Esteban sat slowly.
“I didn't kill my brother.”
He looked toward Mateo.
“But I know who did.”
Mateo's voice dropped.
“Who?”
Esteban looked at Rafael.
Then at me.
Finally, at Julian.
“Your grandmother.”
May you like
My entire body went cold.
“Esperanza shot Gabriel Vargas.”
