Page 62 of Under His Sheets
“Randall? You know this woman?” Leo asked, bringing up a picture of Camille on the laptop.
“Yes, of course. Camille Durand. She works at Frederick Douglass with me. French and math teacher. What about her?”
“Her grandfather, Hugo Llucia from Andorra, is one of the biggest financial supporters of the largest Catalan separatist organization, GPI or Grup per la independencia de Catalunya. We believe she is the conduit between Ambròs Vidal and the funds from Llucia. We have intel that they are planning to meet up at the school during the holiday break to make some sort of exchange. Money for information. We need to be there. If we can get proof of this connection, then we can insist the task force take action, or we can turn over our intel to Guardia Civil and hope for the best outcome.”
“How can I help?” I asked, knowing Alonso would not want me involved.
He surprised me by turning to me and taking my hands. “We were hoping you might be willing to visit their flat, your French friends. Perhaps you can take them their Christmas gifts or something before they leave for holiday. Find out if Camille is planning to stay or leave? See if she says anything to you about the party? If we can nail down a time they are planning to meet, we can alert Guardia Civil, make sure no one is at the school. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt. That is all. I don’t want you to have any further involvement. You’ve done too much already.”
“Of course. I can’t believe Camille is involved?—”
“We don’t know how deeply she is, or if she knows what they are planning, but we don’t want to spook her either and have her tell Vidal or Llucia. We’re not sure why they keep meeting up at the school. I’ve searched that place head to toe and haven’t found anything out of the ordinary, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a more significant reason the school seems to be the center of this group of people. It’s a place where they can meet with each other that gives them a commonality, where if they met someplace in the community it might raise suspicions.”
Leo leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I know this all seems nebulous, but there are Catalan independence groups that are currently on the terrorist list with the government in Madrid. They have not gone to the violent lengths that ETA have?—”
“ETA?”
“Basque separatists,” Alonso said. “You are familiar with País Vasco in the north?”
“You mean, like Bilbao? We played there.”
“Tensions were much higher years ago,” Romeu continued. “The current prime minister has been able to gain the support of the separatist groups and there is an uneasy peace between them at the moment. There was a time when ETA was a threat to all of España. You can imagine that none of us want to see this dispute between Catalunya and Madrid become like that. But we know that Vidal has connections to some very high-level officials. If he is using his financial resources to affect the outcome of legislation, or the court cases against those incriminated in illegal activity, we must put a stop to this.”
“I didn’t know,” I said. “I’m afraid I’m behind on my international politics.”
Alonso squeezed my knee. “We forgive you, guiri.”
I raised an eyebrow at his use of the pejorative word for tourist, but I loved seeing the return of playful Alonso. I wondered if I would see more of this side of him if, or when, this situation was resolved. Would we continue to see each other? I wanted that so much. I knew I shouldn’t become used to having someone at my back like he’d been since we met, but that’s the thing about finding the person you wanted to beyourperson. Once you did, you didn’t want to be without them.
But then I’d also found other people I cared about deeply in this country. My colleagues at the school. Pere. I didn’t want anything to happen to them either.
“What about Ferrer? Do you really think he’s involved?”
Alonso frowned. “We don’t know to what extent, and after he tried to warn you, I’m not convinced he knows what Vidal and Llucia have planned.”
“Okay. When do we leave?”
“We will go back to Castelldefels after you’ve had a chance to eat and rest a bit more. Mateu brought breakfast, and Romeu and Leo brought us clothes and a car. I will drop you off and we will set up surveillance at the school and your complex. I spoke to Fermín, and he will alert us if anything happens before we arrive. I am hoping this ends soon.”
“Me too,” I said. I wanted everyone to be safe.
Alonso nodded but his gaze was unsure, as if he thoughtImight still be unsure.
“Was there any word on Ruiz?”
“They found him dazed and wandering the beach,” Leo said, rolling his eyes. “He didn’t know how he’d gotten there. Other than a headache, he seemed fine. They probably drugged him and questioned him. Here’s hoping they weren’t able to get any intel from him.”
We ate breakfast and I spent the time watching Alonso and his mates talk about a mission they’d been involved with a few years prior, and his whole demeanor was different with them. He was at ease, laughing, comfortable. I noticed Mateu watching them as well with a frown. He got up to take his dishes to the kitchen and began cleaning up the takeout containers.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I said as I stood next to him.
“Oh, de res. No problem, I mean.”
I laughed. “Iampicking up some Catalan. I know that one.”
He frowned at his brother again and then looked back at me. “Can I ask where you two met? I do not mean to be rude, I’m just…”
“Surprised. He thought you would be. He actually rescued me during a protest near where he lives. He’d seen my band?—”
