by Kelly Irvin
“You met him in the late evening in an isolated industrial park.”
“He insisted. He didn’t want anyone to know he was under investigation. It’s not good for a man’s reputation. He wanted to show me he had nothing illicit going on in those warehouses.”
“All he had to do was clean up the place before you got there.”
“I walked through his entire operation. I saw nothing to indicate a cover-up.”
“Why all the heavy artillery then?”
“The man’s paranoid. Probably with good reason.” Rincon’s hand rested on his weapon. “People with his assets get snatched all the time. Kidnapped. They disappear into some hole across the border. Their families cough up millions of dollars. Sometimes they get their loved ones back. Sometimes they don’t. Donovan isn’t taking any chances.”
A reasonable, well-thought-out explanation. The guy had an answer for anything.
“Are you buying this?” Gabby obviously wasn’t convinced. “They’ve rehearsed this.”
“Why?”
“To get us to relax our guards.”
“Be assured, I don’t want you to relax your guard.” Rincon heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to be responsible for your deaths. I’m warning you. You’re barking up the wrong tree. It’s not Donovan. If we find Jake, we find out who the facilitator is. I’m sure of it. You won’t find Jake here or anywhere near Donovan’s properties.”
“Are you following us?” Gabby’s frustration beat like tom-toms in Eli’s ears. If not Donovan, who? “If you really want to find Jake, following us won’t get the job done.”
“You forget I still have a murder to solve. And the prime suspect is your brother. I have every reason to believe following you could get me closer to him. What did Sunny Mendez tell you?”
“She said to check out Luke Donovan.”
“If she really thinks it will help you find Jake, she’s sadly mistaken.” Rincon groaned. “Donovan appears to be clean.”
“What do you think of Mendez?”
“I’ve known Andy since I came out of the academy.” Rincon’s voice dropped even lower. “He’s a hero in these parts. People still remember him as a paragon of the law. They name their kids after him.”
A good leader and a loving father. Every lead turned into a dead end.
“In the meantime, Jake has been missing forty-eight hours now.” Desperation married exhaustion in Gabby’s voice. She needed sleep. He would get her to sleep—at least for a few hours—before they headed to his parents’ house if he had to handcuff her. “We have to find him.”
“I’m aware.” Rincon shoved his glasses up his nose. “I have a murder to solve and now an ATF agent has been gunned down on my turf. It’s a war zone.”
Eli stopped himself from pointing out the obvious. Laredo had been a war zone for years.
Eli’s phone buzzed. Glad he’d placed it on vibrate, he pulled it from his Windbreaker pocket and hazarded a glance.
A text from Deacon.
Little hiccup here. Caught trespassing. PD called.
Eli held it out to Rincon. “It’s for you.”
Chapter 29
All-nighters were for college kids. Deacon shut the front door with only a squeak. Darkness still reigned, but dawn would make an appearance in the next hour. He didn’t bother to turn on a light. He knew this house like the back of his hand. Plenty of all-nighters back in the day. With any luck everyone would still be sleeping. He didn’t feel like explaining himself.
Rubbing his gritty eyes with one grimy fist, Deacon squinted at the lit security panel and punched in the code. Every muscle and bone in his body ached. Riding in the back seat of a cop car, hands in cuffs, had not been a stellar moment in his career. In the past he might have considered it a badge of honor to be nabbed while working a story. But in this case it only proved to Eli that Deacon couldn’t be trusted with the nuts and bolts of a surveillance operation. He’d committed a major tactical error.
Now he needed an attorney to fight trespassing and breaking-and-entering charges. Donovan wasn’t backing down, despite Rincon’s attempt to smooth the man’s feathers. At least the discussion had given Eli and Gabriella time to bail.
Poor choice of words. Trespassing might be a misdemeanor but breaking and entering was not. Given his spotless record and career, the night magistrate had set a low bail.
This jailbird needed sleep. He swiveled to head toward the stairs.
“Stop. Don’t move or I’ll shoot you.”
Natalie sat in the foyer. She held a gun with both hands. Artemis stood at her side. A low growl hummed in his throat.
“It’s me. Deacon.” Guns drawn twice in one night. At least this was a relatively small one. “I’m gonna turn on the light, okay?” He flipped the hall switch.
“Deacon. You scared me!” Natalie let the gun sink into her lap. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Gabriella told me what happened.”
She wore a silky blue housecoat. Her bare feet looked small on the wheelchair footrests. Her manicured toenails were pink. Deacon managed to gather his wits. “Uncle George actually gave you his gun? He wouldn’t give it to me.”
“Gabby gave me Eli’s backup weapon before y’all left for the party.”
“I’m sorry it’s come to that.”
“Me too.”
“Are my aunt and uncle okay?” He hadn’t been able to see much in the spotlights in Donovan’s backyard. With any luck they’d slipped away before anyone realized their nephew had been caught trespassing on their host’s property. “They were probably irritated that their nephew was the one person in the surveillance team who managed to get himself arrested.”
“They were worried about you even though Eli and Gabriella assured them you would be fine. It took them forever to settle down. They hashed and rehashed everything they saw and heard at the party, none of which was germane to my brother’s disappearance.”
She wheeled around. Artemis leading the way, the three of them paraded into the kitchen. “Do you want coffee or iced tea?”
“The last thing I need is caffeine.” The postadrenaline jitters had left his hands shaking and his head throbbing. He sank onto the closest chair. Artemis trudged over to the rug by the sliding glass doors where he curled up next to a sleek black-and-white cat stretched out full length. “Cleo finally made an appearance.”
“And Artemis made a friend. Your aunt says that never happens with Cleopatra, Queen of the Cats.”
“Nope. She’s very picky about her friends. Why are you still up?”
“Under normal circumstances I don’t sleep much. Even less here.” Her voice had a breathy quality. Despite her words, she sounded tired. “I’m a creature of habit. I have trouble settling down when I’m away from home.”
Her hands fluttered.
To cope with her life.
“I’m sorry this is so hard.”
“Every hour that passes is another hour my brother is somewhere being subjected to something horrible.” This time, her voice quivered. She cleared her throat. “I try not to imagine what’s happening to him. Or his body broken and dumped in the Rio Grande—”
“You can’t do that to yourself.”
“If anybody knows that, I do. It’s a case of doctor heal thyself.” Her chuckle was dry. “Do you want to talk about what happened out there?”
Better than imagining what had happened to Jake in the last two days. “I miscalculated.”
“Eli says you jumped the gun and put yourself and everyone in more danger.”
Sounded like Eli. But this time the guy was right. “I guess they got back all right?”
“They’re sleeping. At least I hope they are. Gabby didn’t say much, but she’s disappointed at how things turned out. Nothing on Donovan. Rincon isn’t in on it. A big, fat dead end, she called it.”
“It’s a sad state of affairs when we’re sorry a cop isn’t on the take.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I feel like s
uch an idiot.”
“You’re doing the best you can. You’re a reporter, not a law enforcement officer.” She moved her chair closer. “How about a glass of milk? Piper has chocolate syrup.”
He reached for her hand. To his amazement, she let him hold it. Her fingers were warm and soft. He leaned forward and kissed her palm. She sighed. He let himself peek at her face. Pain mixed with sadness. “Sorry. I’m delirious with fatigue.”
“I’m not sorry.” She leaned in.
She smelled like roses. He met her halfway.
Deacon had experienced a few first kisses, but none like this. Her lips met his and it felt as if they’d kissed a hundred times, maybe a million. They knew each other inside and out. Every hurt, every joy, every uncertainty. Without one spoken word.
She backed away. Literally moved the chair back. Beating a hasty retreat.
“Wow.”
“Wow, indeed.” She laughed. This time the notes held warmth. “We may win the award for world’s worst timing.”
“It feels like great timing to me.”
“I’m a psychologist. I know all about what happens to people thrown together in times of upheaval and terrific stress.”
“You don’t believe in love at first sight?”
“I do. I fell in love with Paolo from one breath to the next.”
Of course. This wasn’t her first rodeo. Deacon stared at the table, then the darkened window behind her, then the covered cages where Fidencio I and II slept. “When I walked into your house on Thursday, I took that breath. Before the upheaval. Before the terrifying ordeal.”
“Deacon.”
“Like the old umpire said, ‘I just calls ’em like I sees ’em.’ If you don’t feel it, that’s a different story. Just say so and I’ll back off.”
“You’re the first man I’ve kissed since . . . since Paolo.” Her hands gripped the wheelchair arms. Her knuckles were white. “But I’m a very different person than I once was.”
“You look beautiful from where I sit.”
“Thank you.” Her grip loosened. “You’re sweet. Can we leave this conversation for a different time?”
“As long as you promise there will be a conversation.”
Smiling, she nodded. “Tell me what happened out there.”
“I just knew I could scale that wall like a commando and slip over to the garage for a peek in the window. The music would cover any noise. People were talking and laughing. They were eating and drinking. No one was looking.”
“Why not wait until the party ended?”
“Because then the security boobs would be doing their rounds at the outlying buildings and on the perimeter. During the party they were all up around the house.” It seemed like a good theory at the time. “Besides, I had this whole special ops thing going on. I guess I’ve watched too many movies.”
“Did you have time to see anything inside the buildings?”
“Two matching gray C-Class Mercedes Benzes, a red Jaguar XE, and a silver Ram pickup.”
“Cars.”
“A Shopsmith, a workbench, and a bunch of woodworking tools. It looks like he’s building some kind of picnic table.”
“Totally sinister.”
“Yep, who’d a thunk it?” He cradled his throbbing head in his hands for two beats. “Absolutely nothing worth the risk I took. He had nothing to hide at the house. Now he knows we’re on to him.”
“Detective Rincon swears he’s clean.”
“We believe Rincon?”
“Eli believes him. He told Eli he’d get you out on bail.”
“The night magistrate did that.”
“There is no night magistrate.”
“Ah.”
“You should go to bed.”
“You should go to bed.”
Neither of them moved.
“How would you feel about me picking you up?” Not wanting to spook her, he remained seated even though every muscle tensed for action.
“Are you planning to sweep me off my feet, so to speak?”
“As a psychologist, you must know of the healing properties of a good hug.”
“I do.”
“So?”
Her porcelain cheeks turned rosy. She nodded. “I could use a hug myself.”
He stood and slid his arms under her. She didn’t weigh much more than a child. He eased into the chair and let her body settle against him. Her arms slid around his neck. He leaned his forehead against her shoulder and breathed. “You smell so good.”
“You, not so much.” She giggled, but her arms didn’t loosen. “It was warm out there this evening, wasn’t it?”
“I’m so sorry.” He jerked back. “I must stink to high heaven. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I don’t mind.” She grinned. “You smell manly.”
“A thousand pardons.” He allowed himself thirty seconds of hug, then rose and lowered Natalie back into her chair. “Next time, I promise to be freshly showered and shaved.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
“You should sleep.”
She backed her chair away from the table. “I think I might be able to now. Kisses and hugs are great medicine.”
The hugs and kisses were a prescription for more insomnia in Deacon’s book. “If you need more, let me know. I’m always available.”
She disappeared through the kitchen door.
Serious highs and lows all in the same evening. Jail and kissing the woman of his dreams.
He would never sleep now. Deacon went to the kitchen counter and searched for the old-fashioned coffeepot his aunt kept in the cabinet. A single cup from a Keurig would not be enough to greet the new day.
Chapter 30
Sunday mornings should be for church followed by a leisurely lunch. That world didn’t exist while Jake was still missing. The clock banged in Gabriella’s head. Eli refused to let her attend a service at his father’s church. Instead, they ate Piper’s pancakes and rehashed the rehash on everything they knew about Operation Talon until it was late enough to visit Eli’s parents.
The reporters were headed to a hastily called unusual Sunday news conference regarding Teeter’s murder. They would report back. And plumb the internet for nuggets of gold about Sunny Mendez, Luke Donovan, Alberto Garza’s family—anything that might give them a clue that led to the next step.
Eli’s father had met Sunny. He knew Alberto Garza and his cousins. He would know Andy Mendez and Luke Donovan. He was a keen judge of character. Any light he could shed on Sunny Mendez’s relationship with Jake had the potential to be helpful. And it was something they could do on a Sunday morning when everything was closed.
The small, white house with its front porch swing and planter boxes of flowers hadn’t changed in the past few years. Even after more than a year, it felt like coming home—to Eli’s home. Thankful to get out of the blazing noon sun, Gabriella stepped through the door Eli held for her. He hadn’t lived here for more than fifteen years, yet he still had the key to his parents’ house. He led the way down the hallway to the kitchen. “Mama, Mama!”
Virginia Cavazos trotted from the kitchen, fingers covered with roped veins and age spots curled around a dish towel. She looked as gorgeous at eighty-five as she had when Gabriella had met her four years earlier. The joy at seeing her youngest son suffused her face. “M’ijo. You’re here. And Gabriella. Come. Sit. I have pollo con calabaza on the stove. Fresh tortillas. ¿Cómo te va, m’ijo, cómo te va?” She hugged Eli’s middle and then stepped back, her look appraising. “You need a haircut.”
Eli’s face darkened. His gaze darted toward Gabriella and back to his mother. “The lady who cuts my hair took a leave of absence.”
Ignoring the sudden flash on the feel of his wiry hair in her fingers, Gabriella accepted the hug Virginia offered and found herself wrapped in the scent of White Shoulders and motherly love. “It is good to see you, Señora Virginia.” After a few awkward moments, they’d settled on Virginia, when Gabriella couldn’t bring h
erself to call this kind, soft pillow-shaped, large-lapped woman mother. “How are you? It’s been . . . so long.”
Virginia’s sad smile hung in the air between Gabriella and Eli. He shifted, his gaze on his shoes. He ducked his head. “I need to see Pops. Is he around?”
“Papi is still at the church.” Virginia said it as if Eli should know better. And he should. Sunday was a workday for pastors. Even Gabriella, a relative newcomer member of the family, knew that Xavier, in particular, worked at the church every day, always there for choir practice, youth group meetings, the food pantry, trustee meetings, and more. Not to mention doing some marriage counseling. Especially not to mention. “Go talk to him and then walk him home. The four of us, we’ll sit down and eat together. It will be ready in thirty minutes. Do not be late.”
Eli didn’t move from his spot in the doorway. He ran a hand through already ruffled hair. His mother gave him a look. He ducked his head again. “Sí, Mamá.”
The second he disappeared down the hallway, Virginia had Gabriella’s hand, tugging her into a chair. She bustled around the kitchen, pouring iced tea and placing sugar and fresh lemon slices on the table. Neither of them spoke until she was seated across the long pine table. “How are you, really?”
Gabriella swallowed. “I’m fine.”
Virginia shook her head. “Mentirosa. Eli is un idiota. I know this. Idiota.” She sighed, tears in her faded brown eyes. “But, he is also a good man. Of my boys, he has the kindest, most gentle heart. It is scarred, yes, and flawed, but he has a good heart.”
Eli was Virginia’s youngest, and it was obvious she doted on him, as did everyone, except Xavier, perhaps. Gabriella searched for words that wouldn’t alienate the nicest mother she’d ever met. “It’s not enough. What he did . . . You can’t imagine how he hurt me.”
“I can imagine. Neither Xavier nor I am perfect. We’ve been married more than sixty-five years. Much time to inflict hurt.” Her face a mask of undisguised pain, Virginia’s wrinkled hands smoothed the flowered place mat on the table. “No, being good isn’t enough. We all fall short. We make terrible mistakes. But when someone we love does this, we forgive them. Just as God forgives us. Haven’t you ever done something terrible, something awful, and been forgiven?”