Free Caught Up (Indigo Vibe) by Deatri King-Bey Page B

fully opened rose in deep reds and shaded the background in black. “You miss her a lot, don’t you?” The more Samson thought about it, the more he was convinced that Rosa was the key to David. The fear in David’s eyes when Samson had dropped her name had haunted Samson ever since.
    “How’s your family?” David asked.
    “I miss them.”
    “Join the club.” He’d written “Rosa” in large gold script letters at the bottom of the image. “You tell the bastard you’re leaving the agency yet?”
    Samson doubted David knew Alton’s real name. The two hated each other at first sight. “He was shocked I stayed this long. I need to write my letter of resignation.” He paused. “You and Rosa were high school sweethearts?”
    “Don’t ask shit you already know. You can leave if you’re here to play that psycho-babble shit. I’m in no mood for it today.”
    Samson could tell David was on the edge, ready to bare his soul, so he waited patiently. Over the year, David had become more than a case, he’d also become a friend. And soon, this friend would confide in him.
    “I have so many regrets,” David mumbled. “Now that I know what’s important…” he trailed off. “Family’s more important than anything, Samson. Go see your people while you can. Enjoy them while you can.”
    “You can still see your family.”
    “Not the one person who matters most to me.” He looked down the corridor. “Here comes Giles. I wish he’d pick up his damn feet. All that shufflin’ and scrapin’ is working my damn nerve.”
    “Everything is working your damn nerves,” Samson mocked. He kept his voice jovial, but he could kill Giles for ruining the moment. “I’ll be right back.”
    “Tell that mutha’ to pick up his damn feet or don’t bring his ass down here.”
    Giles led Samson a few feet away from the cell. “A woman claiming she’s David’s daughter is here,” he whispered, barely audible.
    “ ¿Qué? ” Samson momentarily looked over his shoulder at David who was drawing, seemingly in his own world. “There must be a mistake,” he said in English. “His only child was killed years ago, and that was a son.” Ernesta’s claims of a daughter rang loudly in Samson’s ears. All of the pieces were finally falling into place.
    “The warden says she looks an awful lot like David. Her name is Rosa.” He closed his eyes. “Umm, Rosa, Rosa Bolmiva, Boltivar, Bolivar…”
    Samson recognized the name. Bolívar . He swiped his powerful hands over his shaved head. “He has a daughter,” he mumbled to himself as he glanced over his shoulder at the small man sitting in the cell. The fear in David’s eyes upon hearing Rosa’s name confirmed Samson’s suspicions. He has a daughter. That’s why he’s been acting so irrational lately. A revelation hit him, releasing a nervous chuckle. Ernesto-Ernesta. I’ll be damned. He returned his attention to Officer Giles. “Has Agent Miles been contacted?”
    “Yes, sir. He’ll be here shortly. The warden wanted to know what to do with the Rosa woman.”
    “Set her up in an interview room.”
    Samson returned to the cell and sat on the end of the bed. Everyone knew the name Bolívar. If he remembered correctly, Ernesto Bolívar did have a daughter.
    “What did the hack want?” David asked in Spanish.
    “You have a visitor.”
    “Is the bastard here? Can’t I die in peace?”
    “It’s not Alton.” He rested his elbows on his knees and lowered his face into his palms. Samson wasn’t stalling for dramatic pause or mind games. He literally didn’t know how to proceed.
    “I ain’t in no mood to play twenty-fuckin’ questions.”
    He took the sketchpad from David, then flipped through page after page of roses. At a total loss, he closed the pad. David obviously loved his daughter and was trying to protect her, but from whom?
    “She’s here, isn’t she?” David asked quietly.
    “I need for you to trust me, David. To be honest with me.”
    David