Caught Between Good and Evil

By Beverly Machado

Both her parents, although they lived apart, lived behind the law. It had a lot to do with influencing her dream of becoming a police officer to help the victims of crime. With determination, her dream came true. But her dream to find a man that would love her seemed unreachable. It was on a trip to South America to visit her mother that she couldn't believe her eyes. Sitting there in her mother's apartment was the most breathtaking man she had ever seen. When she shook his hand, shivers went thru her body. He, in turn, couldn't take his eyes off of her. Love at first sight? Should she believe in such? When he found out what she did for a living, a police officer on drug patrol, it shook him up: but he knew he had to be careful that she did not find out what he did for a living. He had searched all his life for his dream woman and there before him, he was looking at her. After years of dating, she finally found out what he did for a living, and that the police and FBI were after him, she had to make a quick decision. The police work fast, the FBI work fast, the bounty hunter, Bloodhound, works fast, she had to decide what meant the most to her: her love or her job. She also had to decide fast.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 9, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456749880

Beverly Machado

Beverly Machado was born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana. In later years she moved to Picayune, Mississippi where she is now living. Her passion in life has always been in writing. She is currently working on her seventh novel.

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Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

Prologue

CHAPTER 1

Marci, Marci! Big as a horsy! Words she lived with all of her grammar school years. Yes, she was bigger than the other children. Big boned like her father. His family came from Sicily and was proud of it. But it hurt her more than anyone realized to hear their name calling. The hurt, the humility, brought out the meanness in her. It tore into her very soul. She wanted to get back at them, but instead she held it in making her anger only grow. As the years pasted and she became an adult, her size embarrassed her. The only time she felt comfortable is when her father had his family over. She measured up to their size. I’m like them, she thought.

Her father lived in a mansion facing the Mississippi Gulf Coast. A cement block fence surrounded the twenty-five acres that he owned. At the entrance was a metal gate that could only be opened from inside the mansion. Several surveillance cameras aimed at that gate showed who wanted to enter. Only by a switch inside releasing the lock, could the swinging gates be opened.

She knew how this huge house was run. It was always filled with bodyguards with guns strapped on their shoulders or tucked in the small of their backs.

Her father’s name was Anthony Pasqualli, but his men called him, The Don.

As a child, Marci wondered about that. She also wondered about the large family they had, and that sometimes they were all called in this home that reminded her of a fortress. To her it was a fun time, because that is when all her cousins were there to play with her. There was a large swimming pool and tennis court. They played badminton and crochet. To Marci, she saw worry and dread on the adult’s faces, but to her, and her young cousins it was playtime. It was also a time for eating, as all her aunts and older cousins and grandmother were busy cooking; all talking at the same time, disagreeing with each other of how a certain dish should be cooked. Marci liked listening. There was so much fussing over things that didn’t matter. To her it was funny.

Stay inside children, the adults would keep telling them. Play your games in the playroom, they would say with a worried look on their faces.

It was also a sound-proof room, so whatever was going on outside, the children never knew. Marci never paid much attention then, in her younger years. It was just a game they were playing; she told herself.

She liked it when her mother lived here with her, but when she was eight years old she heard the argument and fighting coming from her parents room.

You think you can cheat on me, and I won’t find out about it! I could have you killed for that! It is only because you have given me the most precious gift of my life; my beautiful daughter. That is the only reason why I will let you live. If you try to get anything from me, my money, my property, my daughter, anything Shasha, I will, I repeat, I will have you killed! Do you understand? You are not to use my last name. You are to move to your own country, South America. I will only grant you Marci’s school vacation time to spend with you, but no more. Don’t think I am doing this for you. No! I am doing it for our daughter! I will not have her hurt because of something stupid you did! She will be well-schooled here. Now get out of my sight or I will forget that you gave me my most prize possession, my daughter.

Marci heard all of this, and knew of her father’s anger. Her mother ran from the room. Armed men that worked for her father escorted her to the limousine, and to the Gulfport/ Biloxi Airport. A one way ticket was purchased by them to Columbia, South America. They waited and saw that she entered the plane and didn’t leave until it took off.

When she was young, she knew her mother had no financial help from her father or the government. Life was hard for her and her family. Marci remembered because of her times on summer months living there. The world Marci lived in is what shaped her life. From her father’s corrupt life style, to live a wealthy existence, to her mother’s illegal lifestyle just to support her family.

What a different surrounding. Her first summer vacation came, and when she landed in her mother’s country, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Poverty was everywhere. Poverty surrounded her. Dirt poor, she thought. She was happy to be with her mother even though she had to share a room with five cousins, and her grandmother and grandfather. Food was scarce. Water was close to being unfit to drink, but drink they did. She loved her mother and her people. Her features and coloring was more like them; olive skin, dark eyes, thick wavy black hair. To her, her mother was beautiful. She had a figure of a model; not like hers. She was slim built. Marci wished she had the build of her mother instead of her father. She would have liked to spend the school year here with her. No one cared what anyone looked like. To everyone here their thoughts were more on how they would get their next meal. She did also, while here. She saw people digging thru the garbage looking for anything edible; she did also.

It was so different here compared to her father’s home in Biloxi, but yet each had their own good and bad side.

CHAPTER 2

Because of her mother,Shasha, being the only one to keep a roof over their head and food on the table for her family, she did the only thing she could. She sold her body to whom ever would pay her. It did not bring in much money, but to bring home a loaf of bread, package goods, or pay the owner for the rent was all she could afford, then that is what she had to do. When Marci was here for the summer, she would tend to her cousins and grandparents. They were old and sickly. Her mother could not afford medicine for them, but did the best she could. She loved her mother, and knew she hated what she was doing, but if it supplied their needs, then that is what she had to do.

We do what we have to do in this world, Marci, whether we like it or not, her mother told her.

Every summer Marci was there, she saw the poverty the people lived with because of government power. She saw the power of her father in Biloxi. As she finished high school it was her decision how she would live her life. She could have the best schooling with her father’s money. Any university, any career, it was her choice. She was intelligent. She loved to study, for here she would lose herself in her books. What she wanted was to protect the innocent; rich and poor people, that was victims of crime caused by selfish self-centered criminals and crooked politicians.

She told her father, I want to go to the Police Academy and become a police officer here along the Mississippi Gulf Coast.

No! No! her father hollowed. I forbid it! Saying a little calmer, We could use another attorney in this family. Why don’t you study for that? Not a police officer, Marci.

You forbid me to do my life’s dream? Oh no, Father, I am as determined as you. I will go to the training of my choice. I will move out of your house if I have to, but I will go to the Police Academy one way or another.

Marci, my angel daughter, I hate for you to go and leave me, but if that is what you want then I will not denigh you your dream. Remember if you need anything, I mean anything large or small you will contact me. You are my world.

And you are mine. I love you, Dad. Thanks for everything.

She went to the Academy and graduated with honors. She even saw her dad way in the back at Graduation Day. He, in his own way, was proud of her. She was a lot like him; a tough demeanor, determined to do things their own way. Yes, he was proud of her. When they talked later he told her just that.

Who knows? Someday I might need a good cop to help me, he said laughing.

She was proud of her accomplishments. She won honors for her sharp-shooting. She also had training of riding a huge motorcycle around an optical course. This was the most fun part of her training, she thought. She loved that, but wasn’t sure she wanted to be a motorcycle cop.

Back in her apartment that night, she placed her diploma in a frame and put it on her wall before getting ready to celebrate. They were having a celebration party for the graduates, and she dressed in one of her usual tailored outfits. That was her style. No feminine clothing hung in her closet. No high heels or fancy attire.

At the party she greeted everyone. Got her plate of food and drink and sat watching everyone dancing. She was not a party person. She never dated because no one ever asked her. When one of the police officers walked up to her, and asked her to dance she was surprised.

Come on Marci. This is a celebration. We are here to have fun. I know what a good shot you are. Let’s see how you do on the dance floor.

I can tell you right now, Hank, I’m not a good dancer.

Maybe it’s your brogan shoes you are wearing. Why don’t you wear those spiked heels like all the other women here? And if anyone gives you any trouble, you could always use them as a weapon.

Marcy had to laugh at that. Now that’s an idea. Instead of a concealed weapon, I could work them over with the heel of my shoe.

She was not much of a dancer, and Hank never asked her again. But she enjoyed being there and talking with all her friends.

CHAPTER 3

She finished her on the job training. But before she started her job on drug patrol in Biloxi, she had a week off. She wanted to spend that week with her mother, who still lived in Columbia. In a way she felt that, that was also her home. It was in itself a beautiful country; with the high mountains and clear ocean waters. If only they had more control over the government, or more help for the poor. That was her opinion as a police officer. But here she had no jurisdiction. She was on her week vacation; she had to keep reminding herself. She had been noticing the changes in her mother’s lifestyle. Her mother moved into an apartment building in a town close to her new job. A lot of her mother’s