Angel glanced in the mirror again. “No one knows,” he replied. “The only name I’ve heard on the streets is El Jefe.”
“The Boss,” Danny said. “Somebody has to know his real name.”
“No. He is like a ghost, and no one breathes it. Some say there is more than one in control.”
“Like a governing board?” Danny asked.
“I’ve never heard of it in Mexico before, but maybe.”
“But even a board usually has one person with more power.”
“El Jefe.” Angel shrugged. “I’m just repeating what I’ve heard.”
“Why do you think they want . . .” She let her gaze drop to the top of Maria’s head.
“Ransom,” the Mexican replied.
“But Joel doesn’t have the kind of money the drug cartels demand when they snatch someone.”
“I’m sure he carries kidnap and ransom insurance.” Bitterness laced Angel’s voice. “It’s also possible they want her in order to have control over someone.”
That someone could only be Joel. But what did he have that the cartel wanted? He was a purchasing agent for a ceramics company. An image of his battered face popped into her mind, and she winced. He’d really taken a beating. She would like to know how he escaped from the men who took him.
The SUV turned, then a couple of blocks later turned again. Bailey raised up and looked out the back window. Did Angel think someone was following them? They had left Chihuahua and were headed south into the countryside. “Where are we?”
“Near my plane,” Danny said.
“I don’t feel good,” Maria said, her fingers rubbing the necklace. “My head hurts.”
Bailey felt the child’s head. No fever.
Danny leaned over the backseat. “What’s wrong?”
“Her headache is worse. Where’s her medicine?” Danny had said Angel had it. “She hasn’t had any since early this morning, and that may be what’s wrong.”
“Look on the floorboard,” Angel said.
She pinched her brows together. “What?”
“Her medicine bag is on the floor.”
Relief washed over her when she saw the small bag she’d left in the chair at the restaurant. She pulled it on the seat next to her and sorted through it for the bottle of Depakote. “I guess it’s too much to hope there’s bottled water in the car.”
Angel glanced at her from the rearview mirror again. “Look in the area behind your seat. Should be water and even food.”
The look on her face must have shown surprise because Angel laughed. “I always make sure there is food and water stashed in my car. Never know when you might have to go on the run.”
As Solana looked for the water, Bailey stared at Angel. “Who are you?”
He grinned. “You Americans ask so many questions, and we are at the airport now. Maybe there will be time later for answers.”
Solana handed her a bottle of water, and Bailey quickly uncapped it and gave Maria a pill. Water dribbled from her lips as the SUV made a sharp turn, jostling them. Bailey braced against the door and wiped Maria’s mouth. “Did you take it?”
The child nodded as the car made another sharp turn and they swayed against the door. Bailey glanced through the window and saw a white single-prop plane. Cars in the distance caught her eye, and in the front seat, alarm flashed across Danny’s face.
“They found us!”
Bailey’s heart crashed against her ribs. There were two more cars behind the first one. Her phone dinged again. She glanced down and caught her breath.
“What is it?” Danny asked.
“Could Joel have put a way to track me on my phone?”
“Of course. No wonder he knew where we were. Give me your phone!” Danny held out his hand.
A lightbulb clicked on in her head. The men probably had Joel’s phone and were using the app to locate them. She handed him the phone, and he threw it on the floor and stomped it. “Wait! All you had to do was take the SIM card out.”
Danny lowered his window and tossed her shattered phone through it. “Not taking any chances. I’ll buy you a new one when we get home.”
Home. Bailey glanced out the window at his plane. She feared they would never get off the ground.
Joel drove aimlessly through the streets of Chihuahua. No one seemed to be following him. The kidnappers were probably hot on Bailey and Maria’s trail. There’d been no answer to his last text. He tried to access her location only to receive a message telling him it was unavailable.
If he could have gotten in the side door at the hotel, they would be with him instead of Danny Maxwell. Joel had only seen the back of the man with Danny, but something about him seemed very familiar.
He stared at his cell phone on the console. If the Calatrava weren’t following him, there was a reason for that. Of course. While they had his phone, they must’ve installed a tracking program on it. They knew where he was every second.
He pulled into the parking area of a small mom-and-pop grocery and grabbed the phone. A quick scan of the programs found nothing unusual, then he checked for hidden programs running in the background. TrackGenie. His stomach soured. He’d read about this particular spying software a month ago in a trade magazine. It would not only track the phone it was programmed on but also the point of origin of arriving messages. The men who kidnapped him must have put it on his phone. Or Chavez.
If it was the cartel, it meant they knew where Bailey was when she answered his text. He closed his eyes. Not good. Could he ping her phone now and get a reading on her location? He wasn’t sure how the software worked, but before he removed it, tracking her current location was worth a try.
He opened the app, and her message appeared with a location. When he’d texted her, it had gone to a location near the outskirts of Chihuahua. He tapped the location, then tapped it again. A spinning wheel appeared, and he waited. Location unavailable. Either she’d turned off her phone or . . . A number of possibilities crossed his mind. She’d lost the phone or she’d discovered the program or the cartel had them . . . That option wasn’t one he wanted to consider. He had to believe Danny Maxwell had outsmarted the cartel and that Bailey and Maria were safe.
So where would he take them? No-brainer—the States. Joel disabled the app rather than deleting it—it might come in handy later. Then he clicked the internet search engine on his phone to find the next flight to Memphis, Tennessee. His heart sank. No, he wouldn’t. He no longer had a passport—his had been in the safe.
He leaned his head against the seat and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. It might take weeks to get a passport. Abruptly, Joel sat up straight. Edward Montoya. His boss should have been his first thought, not his last. The man could get anything done. Joel dialed his number.
“Did you send my girl off safely?” While there was no hint of a Spanish accent in Edward’s voice, he spoke more precisely than most Americans.
Joel hesitated. Since before Claire’s death, his boss had taken a special interest in his great-niece. He would not be happy about today’s events. “Not exactly. I have to see you. I need a passport.”
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
“I don’t want to get into it on the phone. I’d rather talk to you in person.”
“I was just going back to the office, but I’ll wait for you here at the house. Why do you need a passport? What happened to yours?”
“I lost it, and I need to go to the States.”
“I suppose that’s something else you want to wait until you arrive to explain.”
“Yes.”
Twenty minutes later, the security gates swung open, and he drove to the front of the two-story mansion that once belonged to Edward’s brother. Joel’s hand froze on the steering wheel. The man who had seemed vaguely familiar. Angel Montoya. No. Joel’s brother-in-law was dead, had been for two years.
But what if he was alive? Joel’s breath came in short bursts. He didn’t know which would be worse—if the carte
l had Maria or if Angel was alive and had his daughter.
Danny judged the distance of the cars following them. It’d take five minutes at least to get his plane down the runway. It would be close. At least he’d refueled when he landed, and the plane was ready to take off.
“Do you have a gun?”
Danny stared at the Glock in Angel’s hand. He wished he hadn’t left his automatic in the plane. “Not on me. It’s in the cockpit.”
“I’ll cover you.” Angel jerked his head toward Bailey and Maria. “Get them on board and get that plane in the air.”
“I don’t want to leave you behind.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Angel barreled through the gate and skidded to a stop. “Go!”
“Come on!” Danny flung open his door and jumped out. He motioned to Solana and Bailey to get out.
Solana scrambled out the backseat first, followed by Bailey with Maria in her arms. Danny grabbed the girl and sprinted for the plane. Tires screeched behind him. He shot a glance over his shoulder. Angel had wheeled the SUV around, blocking the entrance to the runway. He caught sight of someone in his peripheral vision. The airport manager.
“Hey! You can’t do that!”
Danny didn’t break stride. “Calatrava men,” he shouted over his shoulder.
The man turned and ran back into the terminal. Danny didn’t blame him. At the plane, he hopped up on the wing and unlocked the door. “Get in,” he said, handing Maria to Bailey. “Buckle up.”
White-faced, Bailey took the child and fumbled for the seat belt. Gunfire erupted as he scrambled into the pilot seat and started the engine. More gunshots and he jerked his head toward the road. One of the cars veered off the pavement and flipped over. One down, two to go. Wait. There were two more cars turning off the highway. But they were shooting at the Calatrava. Angel fired, then he turned and ran to the plane.
“Get this bird off the ground,” he yelled as he slammed the cockpit door.
Danny gave him a thumbs-up and taxied to the runway. “Your men?”
Angel nodded, but his gaze went beyond the cockpit.
Danny glanced back. The Calatrava had breached the SUV. They were still close enough that a bullet could hit the plane. A quick check of the wind sock indicated the wind was out of the south. Good. He was on the northern end of the runway and only had to taxi a short distance to take off into the wind.
Just as he turned the plane to the runway, gunshots popped like firecrackers, and a hole appeared in the wing on Danny’s left. Not now. They were so close to taking off. He checked his gauges. Fuel holding steady. Hydraulic system the same. Maybe they’d literally dodged a bullet.
“Will that affect the plane?”
Evidently Angel had seen the bullet hole. Danny shoved a headset into his hands. He didn’t want Bailey to know they’d been hit. As soon as they both donned the earphones, he said, “I don’t think it hit anything vital. The holes might make it a little harder to control. If that happens, once we get across the border in Texas, I’ll land and check it out.”
Danny taxied into position and ran the engine up to 75 percent of power, then seconds later he pushed the throttle against the fire wall to full power. As the plane raced down the runway, he checked his gauges again. Everything showed green. When he passed sixty-four knots, he pulled back on the yoke and felt the Cessna lift off the ground.
As the Cessna lifted higher, he glanced below. A man stood on the runway, a gun in his raised hand. They were sitting ducks. Three of Angel’s men ran toward the man, and he whirled, firing in their direction. Angel’s men returned fire, and the man crumpled to the ground. Danny wiped sweat from his face with the back of his hand. He never wanted to be that close to a man with a gun pointed at him again.
He swung the plane toward home. Didn’t seem as though the bullet hole would be a problem. Bailey punched his shoulder, and he looked back. Her mouth was moving, but he couldn’t hear her over the noise in the cabin. He handed her three headsets, and she put hers on after handing the other two off to Solana.
“The bullet hole—are we okay?”
Her anxiety transmitted through the microphone loud and clear. He checked his gauges again. “We’re fine.” He glanced at the small girl with her face plastered against the window. “How’s Maria?”
“Better than I am. She seems to think we’re in a TV program.”
Danny laughed. “Someone needs to monitor what she watches.”
She gave him a tiny smile back, then her expression sobered. “The plane is really okay?”
He looked around again. More than anything, he wanted to erase the worry in her eyes. To be her hero again. “Yes. And there’s nothing standing in our way of landing at the Logan Point airfield in about six hours.”
The warmth in her eyes gave him hope that just maybe he’d redeemed himself a little in her books.
Angel’s voice cut into their conversation. “What do you plan to do about Maria?”
Danny figured he was talking to Bailey, so he waited for her to answer.
“I still want to take her to her grandparents—oh no!” She leaned forward. “They’ll be looking for us tonight. I was supposed to call them when we got off the plane in Memphis. When I don’t, they’ll be worried. I have to let them know where we are.”
“No!” Angel’s sharp retort startled him.
“Why not? They’re her grandparents.”
Even over the microphone, Danny heard the stubbornness in her voice. He glanced at Angel. For once, Bailey may have run up against someone as stubborn as she was.
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “How about if I tell them we won’t be there tonight.”
Angel nodded. “As long as you don’t try to take her to them. Her grandparents are old and won’t know how to protect her if the Calatrava show up.”
Danny glanced at the backseat. Bailey leaned back and at least seemed to be considering what Angel said. “He’s right,” Danny said. “None of us know how far these men will go to get Maria.”
“Do you really think they’ll follow us to Mississippi?”
He shrugged, but Angel didn’t respond. It was evident he knew more than he was sharing, and when they landed to refuel, Danny intended to find out just what he knew. But first he had to alert the Border Protection Agency that they were crossing from Mexico into the States.
He frowned as Angel nodded toward Bailey and handed him a note that said to turn off her headphones.
8
Joel paced his boss’s den. What if it was Angel he saw? He stopped when Edward Montoya asked him the same question for the second time. “If I knew why those men kidnapped me, I’d tell you. I don’t have a clue about that or why they want Maria other than a ransom demand. What did you find out about my passport?”
“I contacted the correct authorities. You will need to go to the American Embassy when you leave here and pick up a temporary one. Now, sit down, you’re making me nervous.” Edward Montoya selected a cigar from the humidor and cut the tip off.
Joel sank into the leather wingback chair farthest from the fireplace. The ever-present fire in the den had made him shed his jacket five minutes after he arrived. At least he’d have his passport for flying commercially to the States in the morning.
“Do you owe the cartel money?”
“No. I don’t deal with the cartel for anything. Besides, if I needed money, I would have come to you.” He could never let Edward know about the money he’d lost at the casinos. At the time, he hadn’t realized the person he was getting in debt to was connected to the cartel.
“You have no gambling debts?”
“Nothing I can’t pay.” Except last night, he’d added to his debt instead of reducing it. As soon as he could access the offshore account, he’d pay it off. But when he did, he had to be prepared to disappear for good, unless . . . he was brazen enough to steal the money and sit tight. It was something to consider, and if he could pull it off, at least he wouldn’t be looking over
his shoulder the rest of his life.
“And these men said nothing? Gave you no indication of what they wanted?”
“No. They just kept hammering away about where Bailey and Maria were.” Montoya’s interest in Maria puzzled him. While she was his great-niece, he’d never been sentimental about family.
Joel studied his boss. Edward Montoya had the Spanish name but not much else that marked him as Mexican. His father had immigrated to Mexico from Spain by way of Sweden before the Second World War, where he met and married a beautiful blonde. The marriage produced two sons who bore little resemblance to each other. Jorge, who died with his wife when a bomb blew up his car, resembled his father, receiving the Hispanic coloring and dark hair and eyes that he had passed on to his son, Angel, while Edward’s lighter hair and coloring and eyes came from his Swedish mother, along with her height. Both Edward and Angel’s six-foot statures stood out in a country where the average male stood five eight.
“Cigar?”
Joel shook his head. He’d never acquired a taste for the Cuban cigars Edward had shipped from Havana.
Montoya used a double-flamed lighter to fire up his cigar. “Where is Maria?”
“I don’t know. Last I saw, she was in the lobby of the Casa Grande. Men were after her and Bailey, and I couldn’t get in the door—it was locked, and I didn’t have a key. By the time I got inside, she was gone.”
Edward drew deeply on the cigar, and after a minute he took it out of his mouth and stared at the glowing red tip. “I still find it difficult to understand why you were sending Maria to the States.”
Joel rubbed the back of his neck. He’d explained this to his boss once before. “Because my parents wanted to see her before either of them passed on. They’re not young or well. And Maria has been asking why she couldn’t see her grandparents like the other kids at school. Besides, she was only supposed to be there two weeks.”
“What if your parents want her to stay? They no longer have a daughter.”
“They won’t do that. Besides, Bailey has full authorization to legally take charge of Maria if that happens.”
Silence in the Dark Page 7