Page 13 of Four Cards Exposed

Luckily, both her brothers, who were in the military, were also overseas at the moment. They wouldn’t like to hear of their little sister risking her life, even if it was something they did on a regular basis themselves.

She pulled herself back into the present. Thinking of her parents wouldn’t help her. Milena was an orphan. She’d had nobody looking out for her—had been sleeping in her car when Guerrero had first reached out. That was why she’d agreed to move halfway across the country to find a man she’d never met.

That’s the head-space you need to get into.

Milena’s car was dented, the paint rusted in multiple places. Inside, however, it was spotless. Susan had the feeling the car had been Milena’s most prized possession. She wondered what the young woman would have done with her life if she hadn’t met such a sad end.

Would she have been able to turn her life around?

From his letters, Guerrero clearly thought he could help her do just that. But he was a drug dealer. And it was another drug dealer, just like him, who’d sold Milena the drugs that had killed her. Susan couldn’t afford to feel any sympathy for him.

The closer she got to the prison, the more Susan’s hands shook. She told herself that was alright. Milena’s hands would have been shaky too.

Finally, the prison’s towers came into view. Susan eyed the place curiously. Though she’d never been here before, she knew Hunter, Natalie’s husband, had spent twelve years inside for a crime he hadn’t committed. Susan was glad Hunter and Natalie had been able to work together to find the man responsible. She was glad for the family Hunter and Natalie had been able to forge together.

She parked the car and took a deep breath. She wouldn’t have to walk in through the high gates today. If everything was running on time, Daniel Guerrero should be getting out of prison in exactly thirty minutes.

She looked up in alarm as the gate opened. A large, brown-skinned, muscular man wearing a white T-shirt and faded blue jeans stood very still on the other side, his legs spread hip-distance apart. Susan recognized Daniel Guerrero from the single picture she’d seen of him. He looked in no rush, like he might be out for a morning stroll.

She opened the car door and got out quickly—so quickly she almost fell flat on her face. Catching herself at the last minute, she looked up, flustered, and stepped away from the car.

Flustered’s okay.

Milena would be flustered, too.

Breathe.

She watched as a guard approached Guerrero. He said something that made him nod before handing him a medium-sized paper bag. Guerrero turned away and walked through the now open gate without once looking back at the institutional building where he’d spent the last seven years of his life. As he walked closer, she realized just how big he was—his arms thick as her thighs, his thighs thick as small tree trunks.

Susan resisted the urge to run. There was nowhere to go to.

He looked at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, his thin, cruel lips curling up in a smile that suddenly made him look younger.

“You came,” he said, sounding pleased. His voice was one hundred percent American. Like hers, when she wasn’t putting on a Spanish accent. She wondered how thick the real Milena’s accent would have been. It was good that she and Guerrero had never talked on the phone, so she wouldn’t have to fake it either way.

“I came.”

“You look just like your brother.”

It wasn’t hard to fake the slight, sad shrug. The thought of losing one of her brothers made Susan want to burst into tears.

“What should I call you?” she asked shyly. Guerrero had always signed his letters with a G.

“Guerrero,” he said firmly. “Is it okay if I call you Milly?”

Milly was what Milena’s brother used to call his sister. Susan had already decided not to let Guerrero call her by a nickname. She was going to have enough trouble remembering her name as it was. “Please call me Milena,” she said.

He nodded once in acknowledgment.

“Have you been taking care of yourself, Milena?” he asked. “Estás cansada.”

You’re tired.

“I didn’t sleep well. I was nervous,” she confessed, then looked down.

Guerrero’s hand snaked out and curled a strand of hair behind Susan’s ear. Susan forced herself to stay still, though it was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

“You are Guillermo’s sister. I would never hurt you,” he said. “Never.”