Page 5 of Jameson: Mayhem Makers

Raleigh was still focused on the TV. “Okay. Once you find it, let me know, and we’ll take care of it together.”

I balled my fists to temper my anger. “You know what? I’ll just take care of it myself.”

I walked away, not waiting for a response. I was fed up with babysitting him anyway.

I went to the office and hopped on a computer. I wasn’t sure how much I could find searching the internet, especially when the cartel tried to stay out of the media, but I thought I might be able to find something about Matteo’s brother in his obituary.

I took out my phone and called my sister, Dixyn. She answered after a few rings, and I could hear my niece crying in the background. “Hello?”

“Hey, sis, how’s it going?” I asked.

She laughed. “Still adjusting to being a new mom. When are you going to come see your niece again, anyway?”

I smiled, thinking of the chubby baby who always grabbed my hair when I held her and pulled as hard as she could. “I just got back from a run, so I can probably stop by this weekend.”

“We’d really like that. What’s up? Why did you call me?”

“I have a random question for research purposes,” I answered, knowing she might get upset when I asked her. Matteo had abused Dixyn for almost a year and kidnapped her when she left him and came back home, so he was a sore subject for her.

“Okay,” she said. “What is it?”

“What was Matteo’s last name?”

My sister didn’t answer for several seconds, then asked, “Why?”

I sat back in my chair. “Well, we got some intel that his brother is the one who took over for him, and I’m trying to find out who he is.”

“Ah, I see. It’s Alvarez.”

I put the phone on speaker, then set it on the desk before I started typing the asshole’s name in the search engine. “Thanks, Dixie. I’ll text you later to see when’s a good time to come see you and Poppy.”

“Okay. Love you,” she said.

“Love you, too,” I replied before ending the call.

Several news articles about Matteo’s death popped up on the results screen, and after scrolling down a little, I found a link to his obituary.

I skimmed over the opening paragraph and slowed down when I got to the part where it listed his surviving family.

Bingo.

Matteo had three brothers, but two were still teenagers so I assumed the one that had taken over the family business was the other one.

That brother, Miguel, had a wife and five daughters.

A smirk curved my lips. I’d just found our leverage.

“Lucia! Dinner’s ready,” my mom called from the kitchen.

I avoided looking at the boxes in my room and headed downstairs. By the time I made it to the table, my four younger sisters were already seated, and my mom was serving sancocho, one of my favorite meals.

I sat down with a sigh, and my mom served me some rice before pouring the rich stew over the top. “Don’t start.”

My sisters began eating. “I don’t want to move.”

“I know, Lucia. You’ve made it very clear how you feel about moving.”

I rolled my eyes. “I shouldn’t have to move. I’m twenty-five years old. I should be able to make my own decisions.”

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