by Maris Soule
It was also a good chance for me to reinforce Baraka’s leash training. Most of the time when I took him into the woods, I let him run free. I wanted to see if he still remembered the command to heel and to sit when I stopped. As a result, the quarter mile walk to Howard’s took a little longer than Jason wanted, but I was pleased that, for the most part, Baraka stayed by my side whether I walked slowly or fast, and sat the moment I stopped walking.
By the time we reached Howard’s driveway, Jason was bouncing with excitement. “They’re in the barn,” he said, running ahead. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Howard’s hound, Jake, started barking as we walked down the drive by the house, and Howard came out the backdoor. “Want to see the kittens?” he called to me.
“Sure, but I’m not certain how Baraka will act.”
“Well, let’s find out.”
I tightened my hold on Baraka’s leash when we entered Howard’s barn. The open door let in some light, but it took a few minutes before my eyes adjusted to the dim interior. “They’re over here.” Jason was already at a stack of straw on the far side of the building.
Head held high Baraka sniffed the air. I could smell dust, old timbers, and the lingering aroma of animal manure, but I knew my dog was picking up thousands more scents. “Haven’t had a horse for years,” Howard said, “but I bet he smells him, along with the goats I used to raise.”
“I didn’t know you raised goats.” I hadn’t known he’d had a horse, either.
He grinned. “Lots you don’t know about me.”
He was right.
Howard stopped beside Jason. “So, which one do you want?”
“I’m not sure.”
Jason picked up a tiny gray ball of fur and held it up for me to see. The kitten squealed, and Baraka pulled toward Jason. The mother cat also rose up from where she’d been lying next to her other babies. The moment she saw Baraka, she arched her back and hissed. “Jason,” I said, “you’d better put that kitten down.”
I pulled Baraka back away from the straw and nest of kittens, no easy feat considering my dog’s weight was primarily muscle while a third of mine was baby. The effort caused a tightening in my abdomen that I hadn’t felt before, and I took in a quick breath. The feeling didn’t go away, which made me nervous. “Guys, I think I’m going to let you two decide on which kitten is the cutest. Baraka and I are going to go back to the house.”
“You okay?” Howard asked, his expression concerned.
“I think so.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“No, I’ll be all right. But I think it might be best if I’m home.”
Jason didn’t seem to care. He’d put the one kitten down and had picked up another. The mother cat kept watching Baraka, and I backed up farther. “Be gentle with them,” I warned Jason. “They’re still very little.”
His “I will” was automatic, and Howard chuckled. “He’ll be careful.”
Howard walked with me to the door. “If you need anything . . .”
“I’ll call,” I assure him. “And when you get tired of Jason, bring him home.”
Baraka by my side, I slowly walked back to my house. The slight sensation of nausea hadn’t gone away, and I felt edgy. The edginess grew stronger when I realized there was an unfamiliar car parked next to mine. It wasn’t until I reached my driveway that I saw the gate to my front yard was open and Maria was on my porch. “I cancelled,” I said as I entered the yard and closed the gate behind me. “Connie was supposed to call and tell you. I’m not feeling well.”
“She call.” Maria came down the steps to meet me halfway. “Where is Miguel?”
“Miguel?” I didn’t understand.
“Saturday, I hear you say Miguel’s name, that he was here. Now nobody hear from him.”
“Miguel? The Miguel who worked at Patterson’s Furniture store?”
“Sí.” She glared at me. “He is my cousin. New to this country. He work hard, but he come see you, now no one hear from him. Where is he?”
“Oh my.” Wade had told me they didn’t find Miguel’s body with the truck, but I hadn’t heard anything since. “I don’t really know where he is.”
“He was here Saturday. Yes?”
“That’s what I heard.” I unsnapped Baraka’s leash. “That’s what a neighbor told my husband.”
“Why Miguel here? Why he come see you?”
Either Maria was a very good actress, or she didn’t know what was going on. I decided to see how she reacted to the truth. “He’s been breaking into my house, that’s why he’s been here. He’s been stealing my thumb drives, and I guess diamonds.”
“No!” She shook her head violently. “Not my Miguel.”
She took a step toward me, and Baraka growled. A low, threatening growl that caused her to stop and look down at him. Then she looked back at me. “Miguel not a thief. You wrong.”
“I saw him,” I said, my hand resting on Baraka’s head, his presence giving me confidence. “Twice. I saw him come out of my house, and I saw him drive into my yard. And I think he was here once before that.”
Maria continued shaking her head. “You wrong. Miguel not a thief.”
“Oh yeah? Then why did he take my thumb drives? Why did he take something off the rocking chair I bought?” Her denial had fired my anger. “The DEA and CBP know what’s going on at that furniture store. Brenda didn’t need to be killed. Your husband’s going down.”
Mouth open, Maria stared at me, then squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head. “Going down where? Mi esposo just find job. With bebé coming, he cannot go anywhere.”
She sounded on the verge of tears, and her response wasn’t what I’d expected. “Your husband just found a job? He isn’t the boss?”
“Boss? No.” She looked confused. “He work in factory. Run big machine.”
“He doesn’t work at Patterson’s Furniture store? Isn’t the boss there?”
“No. Is Miguel who work there, but he not there when I stop by to see him. That’s why I come here. Where iz he?”
From the way she was acting and her expression, I was beginning to believe she didn’t know anything about Miguel’s actions or what went on at Patterson’s Furniture. “I don’t know where he is, Maria,” I said. “All I know is they found his truck in a lake.”
“He no own a truck.”
“Okay, the truck he’s been driving. They found it in a lake.”
She shook her head. “I no understand. What lake?”
I named it, but I could tell she didn’t recognize the name.
“And Miguel?”
“He wasn’t in the truck.”
“So maybe he be okay?”
“I don’t know.” She looked shaken, and I suddenly felt sorry for her. “Come on, let’s go inside and talk. You look like you need to sit down.” I knew I did. I still didn’t feel right.
Maria looked back at my front door, then nodded. She led the way up the steps to the porch and stood to the side while I unlocked the door. I was proud of myself for at least remembering to lock up before taking Jason’s to Howard’s place.
Inside, Maria took the closest dining room chair, and Baraka sat facing her. He didn’t growl or show any aggressive behavior, but he watched her closely. With him guarding her, I went into the kitchen and got two glasses, then went to the refrigerator for water. Finally, I sat across from her. “So, your husband doesn’t work for Patterson’s Furniture?”
“No. I tell you, no. Just Miguel.”
“Hmm.” I sipped my water, trying to remember why I thought Maria might be involved with Patterson’s Furniture store. “Back a couple weeks ago, the day that woman was run down in front of the church, you said you were late to our Mothers-to-Be session because your husband called you.”
“Sí. Yes. I remember.”
“You were upset with him. You said he made a mistake.”
She nodded. “Sí. I leave him at house to work on light switch. He not turn off electricity.�
�� She shrugged. “He iz idiot. Nearly kill himself.”
“So that call had nothing to do with Brenda.” In my mind, I’d worked it out that Maria had called and let her husband know Brenda was at the church and that was how they knew where she was and were able to set themselves up to run her down.
“I see your friend come out of the bathroom while I am talking to my husband. She go upstairs. Then, after while, you come out of bathroom and go to meeting room.”
“I didn’t even see you.”
“Ask Tamara. She know. She see me, and she see your friend go upstairs.” Maria sighed. “How I find out about Miguel?”
“I’ll call my husband, see if he knows anything.” I got my cell phone and tapped Wade’s number. As it rang, it dawned on me what Maria had said. “You say Tamara saw Brenda go upstairs?”
“Sí. Then she make phone call.”
Wade answered at that moment. “You okay?”
“Maybe feeling a few contractions.”
“Do you want me to come home?”
“No, not yet. I’m calling because one of the other pregnant women in my group is a cousin of the guy that kept breaking in here. I told her you found his truck. I think she deserves to know if he’s alive or dead.”
I saw Maria blanch when I said “dead,” but I knew I’d want to know.
“No body, so far. They’ve had divers looking for three days now, but the lake is full of debris. Hard to say if he’s in there or not, but tell her, if he gets in touch with her, for him to turn himself in. He needs to do it for his own good.”
“I’ll tell her.”
“And, for your peace of mind, your buddy Ken contacted me. He’s due here this afternoon.”
“He’s all right?”
“He sounded a little shaken up, but otherwise, I think he’s okay.” Wade paused. “You call if you need me. Promise?”
I promised, and after I hung up, I relayed all I knew about Miguel to Maria. Her usual brusque manner was gone, and her sigh was a long one. “So, maybe he dead. His mama take me in when my mama kick me out. She tell me to keep eye on him. I fail her.”
“He was really nice to me,” I said, feeling sorry for her. “At the store he went and found an infant rocking chair for me. One I’d seen on the store’s website. He even carried it out to my car for me.” And now that was gone, too.
Another tightening sensation in my belly made me cringe.
“You all right?” Maria asked.
I took a deep breath. “I think I might be going to have a baby.” I picked up my phone. “I need to call Connie.”
“You want me stay?”
“No. No, you go.” I punched Connie’s number. “I’ll be fine.”
Maria stood but didn’t step away from the table. “You’re sure?”
I nodded yes, and when Connie answered, I said, “I think it’s time.”
Chapter Forty
After I told Connie how often I was feeling the contractions, she assured me that she would be at my house long before Paige Joy made her appearance. “Relax,” she said. “Make sure you have everything ready in your bedroom, then relax. This is your first baby. They generally take their time arriving.”
I called Wade to tell him it was time. I got his voicemail. “Connie says there’s no rush,” I said, “but, I don’t know. It feels like she’s ready, so if you want to see your daughter’s entrance, you’d better come home soon. Also, I think I know relayed where Brenda was that day she was killed.”
That message delivered, I headed for the bathroom.
I’d just flushed the toilet and was washing my hands when I heard Baraka growl. A low, throaty, warning growl.
“Nice doggy,” I heard someone say. “It’s okay.”
The woman’s voice sounded familiar, but she was talking so softly, I wasn’t sure who was in my dining room. I did know it wasn’t Maria. No accent.
“Where’s your mistress? Where’s P.J.?”
Ah, I did know who it was, and after what Maria had said earlier, that realization put me on edge. Cautiously, I opened the bathroom door.
“Tamara,” I said, hoping my expression didn’t relay my concern. “What a surprise.”
Tamara Trulain stood only a few feet from the front door, Baraka between her and where I stood, his body tense. The hairs on the back of his neck and over his shoulder blade were raised making it look like his ridge extended from the top of his head to his tail.
Tamara’s gaze never left Baraka. “I don’t think your dog likes me.”
I stepped out of the bathroom. This was the second time in one day that Baraka had growled at a woman. Usually he was aloof with strangers, not defensive. His attitude toward Maria had surprised me, but with Tamara, I was glad he was acting the protector. “You shouldn’t have come into the house without me inviting you.”
I stepped closer and placed a hand on his back. “Good boy,” I said.
He looked at me, then back at her. His posture relaxed a little, the hairs on his neck laying back down, but he didn’t move.
My attention stayed on Tamara. “I’m afraid you made the drive out here for nothing. I’m not feeling well, so we cancelled the meeting. I think I’m going to have my baby today, and—” I stopped myself. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Tamara. Connie said you—”
“Had another miscarriage,” she finished for me. “ ‘For the best,’ the doctor said. ‘Deformed. Wouldn’t have survived even if I had gone to term.’ ” She glared at me. “Dammit, nothing’s gone right in my life. I can’t have babies, my husband’s gotten us involved with a drug cartel, and you have to go into that bathroom at exactly the same time she’s in there.”
“By ‘She’ you mean Brenda?”
“Of course I mean Brenda,” Tamara snapped and looked toward the living room. “Is that your office down there?”
I ignored her question. “Last week when we were talking about Brenda, you didn’t tell us everything, did you? You didn’t mention seeing Brenda come out of the bathroom and go upstairs.”
Tamara looked back at me.
“Maria said she saw you make a phone call after that.”
“Oh she did, did she?”
“You called your husband, didn’t you? You told him where Brenda was. And when she came out of the church, he ran her down.”
“And all would have been fine if she hadn’t given you the pen.” Tamara headed for my office.
“Pen?” I followed her, Baraka by my side. “If you’re looking for a pen, why has Miguel been taking my thumb drives?”
“Because my husband hires idiots.”
Tamara stopped just inside my little office area. I stayed on the living room side of the doorway. For a moment she simply looked at my desk and computer, then she reached over and dumped the pens and pencils I had in the plastic cup so they were spread out over my desktop.
I remembered finding a couple extra pens in my purse. Pens that simply looked like pens.
Tamara began pulling caps off the ones on my desk, dropping each on the floor after looking at it.
“If it looks like a pen, she could have left it anywhere.”
“Maybe so, but we looked everywhere. In her purse and in that church.” Tamara paused and glanced at me. “She had to have given it to you when you two were in the bathroom.”
I thought back to that day. Me overhearing Brenda on the phone, seeing her, and telling her to call for help. Brenda hugging me, saying she would see me soon.
Hugging me.
“Got it.” Tamara held up a black and silver ballpoint pen so I could see it. “I’m not exactly sure how it works, but this is it.”
With the cap off the top of the pen, I could see where the micro end of a USB cable could be inserted.
“We didn’t realize Miguel was looking for the wrong thing,” she said, “until last Wednesday when you mentioned your thumb drives were being taken. Alan hadn’t told Miguel this needed a cable for it to act like a thumb drive, that it looked like a pen. Miguel would hav
e found this Saturday if your neighbor hadn’t stopped him.”
“Alan?”
“My husband.”
The one with a different last name, which, at the moment I couldn’t remember. “When I first met you,” I said, “you never mentioned you had any connection to Patterson’s Furniture store.”
She shrugged. “No reason to. Alan runs a private equity group. He owns a variety of stores: a florist, the jewelry store downtown that features my pieces, a card shop, and Patterson’s, which seemed like a great buy since furniture is an excellent way of bringing contraband across the border. Contraband like the diamonds I use in my jewelry.” With her free hand she touched the diamond hoop hanging from her left earlobe.
“Getting the diamonds has been great; however, we didn’t realize that Patterson’s Furniture came with strings attached. Strings that are held by a very powerful drug cartel. You met Juan, I believe, when you visited the store.” I guess I nodded because she went on. “Juan is the younger son of the cartel’s drug lord. Personally, I like him. He’s come up with some great ideas on ways to hide the diamonds. Problem is, he hasn’t always been careful about who he hires. I have no idea why he put that doper Jerry something-or-other on the payroll. And it looks like Miguel was a mistake.”
She sighed. “Juan’s biggest mistake was telling Alan that keeping Brenda on as the bookkeeper would work. He said Blacks are accustomed to whites cheating in business, that she wouldn’t be bothered by a few inconsistencies in deliveries. Boy, was he wrong.”
Tamara laughed. “Last week you asked if Brenda said anything to me about being followed. I told you no, but that was a lie. Since I’ve never gone into Patterson’s when she’s been there, she didn’t know I had any connection to the store. As we went downstairs, she told me how she’d barely gotten away from the store’s owner and that she had to get some pictures to her contact.”
“So, after talking to Brenda, you called your husband and told him where she was.”
“I don’t think he would have found her if I hadn’t.” She twirled the pen between her fingers. “Poor Alan was a nervous wreck waiting for her to come out of the church.”