Silence in the Dark

by Patricia Bradley

  Danny’s pulse ratcheted at the mention of his company. Evidently, Chavez believed Angel was Franks’s contact. Is it possible? Angel needed rifles. Rifles that Franks was providing to someone. Could he be the face of the Blue Dog Company?

  Danny studied the man. Brows almost pinched together, a question in his eyes—either he was a great actor or was truly puzzled. The events of the past week flashed through Danny’s mind. Events that showed Angel to be a man of honor . . . except he lied about his identity. Danny shifted his gaze to Joel, who registered no reaction at all, then back to the Mexican policeman.

  Chavez’s lip curled. “Pardon me if I don’t believe you.”

  “That is your privilege.” Angel cocked his head. “I have a question for you, though. If you were at the warehouse that day, perhaps you can tell me how the Calatrava knew I would be there.”

  “I wasn’t there. If I had been, my brother would still be alive.”

  Angel glanced toward Joel. “I think you would do well to discover who tipped the cartel off about the meeting. That is the person who is responsible for your brother’s death. And since you do not have handcuffs out, I assume you have no warrant for my arrest. I have other matters to attend to.” He bowed curtly before he turned on his heel and walked out the door.

  Chavez shifted his gaze to Ben Logan, who like the others in the room, had been silently watching and listening. “You’re going to let him just walk away?”

  “I’m sorry,” Ben said. “But he’s right. Like I told you at the jail, you don’t have a warrant, and I have nothing to arrest him for. That was okay with you since you said you were on a fishing expedition. I’d like to know just what you were fishing for.”

  So would Danny, and he noticed that Joel seemed interested as well.

  Bailey nudged Danny. “I’m going back to the kitchen to check on Maria,” she said.

  He nodded. Like Danny, she’d been quietly listening. He refocused on Chavez.

  The policeman pressed his lips into a thin line. “You are right that I’m not here officially.” He touched his chest. “In my heart, I believe Angel Montoya knows who killed my brother. I came from Mexico to worm the information from him, and I will not rest until I know who killed Juan.”

  Danny stepped forward. “How much do you know about the Blue Dog Company? Where is it located?”

  For the first time, Chavez seemed to notice Danny. “What’s your interest in this?”

  “I’m part owner of Maxwell Industries. We make the Maxwell 270 hunting rifle and AR15s for the military. Last year, AR15s were stolen from our company and shipped to Mexico as glaze in shipments to Montoya Cerámica.”

  “But the guns were dropped before the shipment ever reached us,” Joel said.

  Chavez shifted and stared at Joel. “I see you made it to the States, looking a little better than the last time we met.”

  Joel returned Chavez’s cold stare with one of his own.

  Chavez shifted his gaze to Ben. “The man on this end, has he been caught?”

  “There were two,” Ben said. “And their trial is next month—if it goes to trial. I heard today that the DA’s office had authorization from ATF to offer Franks a deal. Give them his Mexico contact, and he can go free.”

  “Do you think he’ll take it?” Danny asked. His stomach churned at the thought of Franks walking away with no consequences.

  “I don’t know,” Ben said. “Probably, since the attempted murder charges would be dropped as well.”

  Danny could tell from the grimness in Ben’s face, that option didn’t sit well with him. It didn’t with Danny either. But if Franks was willing to tell the ATF, perhaps he’d talk with Danny now as well—he wanted the satisfaction of hearing from Franks’s own lips who his contact was.

  “Your government would do this?” Chavez asked.

  “Franks was a little cog in a big wheel, but what he knows might get some of the higher-ups.”

  “Would it be possible for me to speak with Franks and the other man?”

  “Possible?” Ben said. “Maybe. They’re both out on bond, but I’m pretty sure neither of them will welcome you with open arms.”

  The sergeant raised his eyebrows. “Bond? How is that possible?”

  “Slick lawyers and a lenient judge.” Ben’s disgust was evident in his voice. “And now they’ll probably walk, Franks anyway.”

  “If you go see Franks, I’d like to go with you,” Danny said.

  Chavez shook his head. “If you’re along, he won’t tell me anything.”

  Danny saw his point, but it didn’t keep him from being disappointed. “At least tell me where the company is located.”

  “The run-down warehouse you found is the correct address, but it was just a rendezvous point. I would advise against visiting there again. The building is under surveillance even though there has been no recent activity.” He turned to Ben. “Where can I get the addresses of the men involved?”

  “I have them at the jail. I’ll give them to you when I take you back to your rental car.” Ben’s cell phone rang, and he glanced at it. “I have to take this, but it shouldn’t take long,” he said to Chavez.

  “And I have to report back to my boss, then find a place to stay,” Joel said. “Edward said there were no rooms available at the hotel where he was staying. Something about some kind of COGIC conference.”

  Danny remembered hearing on the news earlier about all the hotel rooms in Memphis being sold out because of a Church of God in Christ annual meeting. “You’ll be lucky to find a place within twenty miles.”

  “I hope you’re wrong about that.” Joel glanced around the room. “I’ll be back later this afternoon to discuss Maria and how we’ll handle telling her about Angel,” he said.

  Good luck with that. Danny shook his head as Joel disappeared into the hall, then he turned to Chavez, who had walked to the window and stood staring out. He had one more question to ask the Mexican sergeant. “You blamed your brother’s death on Angel,” Danny said. “How did it happen?”

  Chavez turned from the window. “Like I said, my brother was one of the agents in the warehouse the day Angel came to negotiate a deal. The—”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “Montoya and his men were going to join forces with the local police. The Calatrava showed up and gunfire erupted. The bullet that killed my brother has been traced to one of Montoya’s men who was also killed.”

  “But not to Angel?”

  “You are responsible for your men. He must answer for them.”

  Danny tried to understand where the man was coming from. If Angel didn’t pull the trigger, he wasn’t to blame for the death of Chavez’s brother. “Did you really expect Ben to arrest him without proof?”

  Chavez shrugged. “No. It was my hope Montoya would answer my questions voluntarily.”

  “Why did you not stay in the library?” Angel asked.

  “Danny’s there. He’ll tell me what’s said.” Bailey had been tempted to stay but had been uneasy leaving Maria alone any longer with Angel and Solana. She halfway expected Angel to take off with Maria, maybe even somehow take her back to Mexico. She handed the child a cookie.

  “Thank you. Is Uncle Joel coming back?”

  “Later,” she said.

  Maria tilted her head. “Are you going to take me to see my grandma and grandpa?”

  Bailey held her breath as a look passed between Solana and Angel. “I don’t know. What do you think, Angel?” Might as well put the monkey on his back.

  “I think maybe tomorrow? Would you like that, Maria?”

  She nodded. “Uncle Joel says I’m to call them Nana Sue and Papa Joe. Do you think they’ll like me?”

  “They will love you!”

  She beamed, then said the names again, rolling them around her tongue.

  “I think you like saying those names.” Angel smiled at her. “Did you know you were named for your daddy’s mother?”

  “You knew my daddy?” Maria�
�s eyes grew round. “And my grandmother’s name is Maria?”

  “Yes.”

  Bailey poured more milk in Maria’s glass. She knew where Angel was leading.

  “Mama and Uncle Joel never told me about her. Can I go see her?”

  “I’m afraid she’s in heaven with your mama.”

  A frown crossed her face. “Where is your mother?”

  He sighed. “In heaven.”

  “So you don’t have a mama, either.”

  “Nope. And my daddy is in heaven too.”

  “You’re like me! I don’t have a daddy.”

  “But you do have a daddy.”

  Bailey froze. “Do you think—”

  “Yes.” He shot her a fierce look. “It’s time she knew.” He picked Maria up and set her on the counter where they were eye level. “When you were very little, your daddy was hurt. It took him a long time to get better, and when he came back to Chihuahua, he discovered your mama was in heaven and you believed he was there as well. But he’s not.”

  Maria’s eyes widened, and Bailey pressed her lips together as tears sprang to her eyes.

  “Are you my daddy?” Maria whispered.

  “Yes. And I’m going to take care of you from now on. Okay?”

  Maria threw her arms around Angel’s neck. “I kept wanting to call you daddy, but I was afraid you would laugh.”

  “I would never laugh at you, precious one.” He wrapped his arms around his daughter.

  Bailey wiped tears from her face, then sensing the two needed time alone, she slipped out the back door. There was no need to worry that Angel would take off with the girl back to Mexico. He would do nothing to harm her, and they all knew returning to their home country right now wasn’t safe. Angel would make a great father.

  So would Danny. Sudden longing to marry Danny and have his child caught her by surprise. Her mind’s eye captured a picture of the three of them together. All she had to do was say yes. He loved her, she loved him, so why couldn’t she do it? Because he deserved someone who wasn’t damaged, someone who could love him wholly. And she couldn’t do that yet.

  She entered the pottery shop through the gallery and looked around. The range of her mother’s pieces amazed her. Pit-fired porcelain vases and bowls, sets of dishes and mugs, artistic pieces—the delicate translucent vases with intricate carving. Some of these she hadn’t seen before.

  Bailey stepped through the doorway into the workshop, and her mom looked up from the wheel. “Come on in, and I’ll put you to work. Otherwise I’ll be bad company. This order is due in two weeks, and I’m not where I need to be with it.”

  She held her breath as her mom made another pull on a large bowl, then flattened the rim. “Is that a salad bowl?”

  “Yep. Goes with a twelve-piece set of dishes. You know, plates, saucers, cups—the whole nine yards. It’s a wedding gift.” Kate smoothed the inside of the bowl, then ran a wire under the footing.

  “I’ll be glad to help.”

  Her mom pointed toward a mug on the drying rack. “Think you could throw a few of those?”

  “I can give it a try. I do teach a pottery class at the school.” After Bailey tied an apron around her waist, she picked up the leather-hard mug. She ran her fingers inside, feeling the curve, then measured the height and width. “Five hundred grams?”

  “Yep. Clay’s in the bucket there.” Kate pointed to a five-gallon pail with several rolls of pugged clay in it.

  Bailey cut a lump of clay from one of the sticks and weighed it. Five hundred and two grams. Not a bad guess. Then she sat behind one of her mother’s extra wheels and tossed the clay in the center. “Daddy still digging your clay for you?”

  “Sometimes. I’ve found a really nice porcelain for the art pieces, though. Comes from Australia. What’s going on inside the house?”

  “Angel just broke the news to Maria that he’s her father.”

  “Good.”

  For a few minutes Bailey concentrated on the clay, loving the way it responded to her coaxing. One of the first things she’d learned was not to bully the clay but to coax it into submission. It was easy to forget everything when she worked on the wheel. After she made the last pull on the mug and compressed the lip, she loosened the bat and placed the mug beside the one on the drying shelf. “What do you think?”

  Her mom looked up. “Perfect. I’ll attach the handle in the morning.”

  She worked alongside her mother and soon had five mugs on the shelf.

  “I see you haven’t lost your touch. Of all the family, you have the most talent, and with work, you could be even better than I am.”

  Warmth radiated through Bailey’s chest. For her mom to say that . . . She swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Thanks. Maybe one day.” She cleaned the wheel with a rib. “I’ll make a couple more and then go check on Maria.”

  “Let them have time together. I want to talk to you.”

  Bailey jerked her head up. “About?”

  “You and Danny.”

  “I don’t want—”

  “I know you don’t, but that’s what mothers are for—to make you do things you don’t want to do.”

  Her mom was good at getting her to do what she didn’t want to do, but the words were said with a smile to soften their truth. Perhaps if she focused on the mug, her mom would let it go. She threw another ball of clay on the wheel and concentrated on centering it and forming a cylinder.

  “Danny’s matured in the last two years.”

  Bailey held a measuring stick to check the height of the mug. Not quite there.

  “What happened with you two?”

  Her hand bobbled, and the cylinder collapsed. She stared at the mess on her wheel, and tears scalded her eyes. Abruptly she yanked the ruined mug off the wheel and squeezed the clay in her hands.

  Silently Kate moved from behind her wheel and took the clay. “Let’s wash up and sit at the worktable.”

  A few minutes later, Bailey rubbed the smooth ash lumber where her mother fashioned her hand-built pieces. Kate sat across from Bailey, waiting. When Bailey didn’t meet her gaze, she said, “Did Danny hurt you that badly?”

  Bailey’s eyes teared up again. Fatigue. It was nothing but fatigue and stress. She shook her head. “Our breakup wasn’t Danny’s fault.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?

  She’d never told her mother why she’d given Danny his ring back, and bless her, until now she’d never asked.

  “I know he loves you, but do you love him?”

  Startled, Bailey looked up. “How can you be so sure he does?”

  “Honey, he risked his life for you, and even now, he won’t leave your side. If he didn’t love you, he would’ve handed you over to Ben once you returned. You can trust Danny.”

  She bit her lip. “Can I? Can you trust any man? Every time I think I can, I think about Mr. Carver.” There. It was out. Bailey stared at the dried clay on her hands in the dead silence that followed.

  “I thought you had moved past that.”

  The pain in her mother’s voice drew Bailey’s gaze. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. After a minute of deep breathing, she said, “Just when I think I’m over it and ready to move on with my life, the nightmares start again. I’m in the twins’ bedroom, and he’s coming for me. I want to stop him, but instead I run and run until I wake up. I’m so tired of being afraid.”

  Kate hurried to her side and wrapped arms around her. “Have you given it to God?”

  Bailey stiffened. That was always her mother’s first thought. “Of course I have. But evidently I pick it right back up.” She dropped her head. “God must get tired of keeping up with my mistakes.”

  “God doesn’t keep score.” Her mother’s touch was gentle as she smoothed Bailey’s hair.

  “I know it’s not rational, and I should be able to let it go. You wanted to know what happened to Danny and me. Well, when he asked me to marry him, I thought I could do it. But that night I couldn’t s
leep. I fixated on Mr. Carver and the way he killed his family. He was a model husband and father. And I kept thinking if he could go bad . . .”

  She pulled away from her mother and used the back of her wrist to wipe away the tears that streamed down her face. “By morning I was a basket case. And I knew I couldn’t marry Danny. It wouldn’t be fair to him. He didn’t need a wife who jumped every time he touched her.”

  Her mom sat in the chair next to her. “I’m so sorry, honey. I had no idea. You seemed so brave, going to Mexico, working in that village—”

  “I was running away, Mom. The danger in Mexico was better than staying here and hurting Danny, or . . .”

  Kate squared her shoulders and turned Bailey to face her. “I’m going to say something you won’t like.”

  “What’s new?” A wry smile pulled at her lips. It didn’t matter what her mother said, it wouldn’t change anything.

  “You’ve given this fear control and power over you. Shh . . .” She held her finger up when Bailey started to protest. “Hear me out. You’re holding on to it so tightly you can’t see anything else.”

  “Mom—”

  “I’m not through. God saved you that day, but all you can see is your fear. Over and over he tells us to fear not, that he is with us. The way I see it, you can keep holding on to it and nothing changes. Or you can turn it over to him, trusting he will give you peace. It’s your choice.”

  “But why did he let it happen in the first place? Why didn’t he save the twins?”

  “Two hard questions I don’t have answers for.” Conflicting emotions crossed her mom’s face. “I wish I did. But for those times I don’t understand, I trust who he is. I look at what he’s done in the past—the blessings he’s poured out on us and all the troubles he’s brought us through.”

  “I wish I could do that. Sometimes I feel so guilty questioning God . . .”

  “It’s okay to do that. Job did, and in the end, God poured out more blessings than ever. I read Job sometimes when I have questions.”