April grabbed the strap, but Clay’s heavy bag fell to the floor with a clump, anyway, a sheaf of papers sliding from the top.
“Hope he didn’t break my laptop.”
“It should be fine.” She crouched on the floor as Clay scraped back his chair.
“I’ll get that.”
The papers fanned out in front of her on the floor, and she swept them into a pile and tapped them on the tile.
“I’ll take those.”
She glanced up at Clay’s face, a little white around his pursed lips, and then shifted her gaze to the papers in her hand. She flipped the stack over, and a lump formed in her throat.
“Pictures of the head from yesterday.”
“I’m sorry, yeah.” Clay held out his hand. He repeated, “I’ll take those.”
She brought the printout of the photo close to her face and studied the gory details. Then she dropped the sheaf of papers and fell back onto the floor with a strangled cry.
“I know. I’m sorry, April. You shouldn’t have looked. I told you not to look.”
She brought a hand to her tight throat and her eyes met Clay’s as she choked out, “I know her.”
Chapter Nine
Clay snatched the printouts and crushed them to his chest where his heart thundered. “No, you just think you do. People in death don’t look the same as they did in life—especially if they’ve been beheaded. She could be anyone.”
April cranked her head back and forth, a blank stare in her blue eyes. “I know that woman. Her name is Elena.”
Clay stuffed the sheaf of papers, now crinkled and creased, into his bag and took April by the hand to help her to her feet.
She rose and then immediately plopped down in her chair. If the chair hadn’t been there, she would’ve wound up on the floor again.
She smoothed her palms over her thighs, over and over, ironing the wrinkles in her pants. “It’s her. I know it’s Elena.”
“Here.” Clay shoved the sweating iced tea glass under her nose. “Drink something.”
“What does it mean? Why is she here?” April stopped the repetitive movement and grabbed his hand, her nails clawing at his flesh.
He curled his fingers around her wrist and squeezed. “Why do you think it’s this woman Elena? The features are distorted, her skin discolored. Detective Espinoza was wondering at the office how we were going to put a sketch out. That’s why the sheriff’s department didn’t realize right away that the woman’s head from the day before yesterday didn’t belong to the body we found at the border. Skin color, features, sagging, wrinkling...all change under those dire conditions.”
“Look again.” She poked at his bag with a trembling finger. “That woman has a nose piercing.”
His pulse ratcheted up another few notches. “Lots of women have nose piercings.”
“Look again, Clay.” She folded her hands in her lap, twisting her fingers. “The piercing is a star, a small, gold star.”
Clay’s tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth. He didn’t have to look. They’d already noted the star piercing on the woman’s nose.
Lifting her chin, April placed a hand over her heart. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’ve seen the piercing.”
“If you do know who this is—and I’m not conceding that you do—how do you know her? Who is Elena?”
Her fingers curled against the skin of her chest. “I met her at Jimmy’s.”
Clay closed his eyes as a stifling dread thrummed through his veins. When he’d believed that the cartel had left the head on April’s porch because of him, it had angered him. If they’d left it there so Jimmy could send some kind of message to April, that scared the hell out of him.
His lids flew open. He couldn’t let April know how much her words had struck terror into his heart.
He smoothed his palms over her arms, pulling her hands away from her throat where she’d scored it with red marks from her nails. He laced his fingers with hers.
“In what capacity? What was she doing at Jimmy’s?”
“Sh-she is, was, Gilbert’s girlfriend.”
“Gilbert is the man you overheard talking with Jimmy in his office when you were out on the balcony?”
She nodded once, dropping her chin to her chest. “What does it mean? Did Jimmy kill her or have her killed?”
She jumped up from her chair so fast and with so much force she knocked him over and he braced a hand against the floor.
She buried her hands in her hair and screamed, the sound launching Denali to his feet. “I can’t believe I was with that man. I can’t believe Adam would set me up like that.”
Clay grabbed the edge of the table and hoisted himself up. “I’m not defending Jimmy here or trying to tell you he’s a great guy, but I don’t believe he had Elena murdered.”
“You think it’s some great, cosmic joke that I met a woman at Jimmy’s who winds up murdered and beheaded at the border and her head makes it to my front porch?” She stooped down automatically and patted Denali, frantically circling her.
“Can you sit down a minute? You’re making Denali and me nervous.” He grabbed the back of the kitchen chair. “Sit and drink some tea. I can get you something stronger if you want.”
She wedged a hand against the nearest wall and her whole frame shuddered. “The tea will do.”
She crossed the room and took a seat.
He pulled the other chair around to face hers and straddled it. “Let’s slow down and think a minute. Jimmy belongs to Las Moscas, right? You saw the wooden tokens in his desk drawer. He wouldn’t have those for any other reason than that he belongs to that cartel.”
“That’s right, and you told me Elena had one of those clutched in her cold, lifeless hand.”
Clay huffed out a breath. April was going to get herself wound up again. “She did, but the other agents and I never believed that she was one of Las Moscas’ mules. They killed her and left that token in her hand as a warning to others not to mess with Las Moscas.”
“Mess with them? As in work against them?” She tucked the shimmering strands of her hair behind one ear as her eyes began to lose their glassiness.
“We interpreted the whole ugly scene as another gang moving into Las Moscas territory and Las Moscas reclaiming that territory in the most brutal way possible.”
“You think Elena was working for a rival to Las Moscas and that Jimmy and Gilbert are those rivals?”
“I have a strong suspicion that’s what happened.”
“And why me?” She finally made a grab for the iced tea glass, almost knocking it over. She saved it and took a long gulp. “Why leave her head on my porch? I didn’t even realize Jimmy knew about that house.”
“You can be sure Adam told him all about you. Perhaps he even told him about me.”
“That’s bad, Clay. That’s really bad news.” She grabbed the back of his chair. “What if he thinks I’m over here giving you all kinds of information about him and his operation?”
That’s exactly what he feared.
Shaking her head back and forth, her brow creasing, she said, “He was stupid to leave Elena’s head on my porch, knowing I could identify her.”
“That’s just it. Jimmy wouldn’t kill his own mules. He didn’t leave the head on your porch—Las Moscas did.”
April blinked her wide eyes. “That’s so much worse. It’s terrifying enough to deal with an evil that you know, but Las Moscas? Do you think they tracked me down through Jimmy?”
“If Jimmy was part of the cartel, I’m guessing somebody in Las Moscas knows all about his relationships.”
She clasped her hands, which had finally stopped trembling, between her knees. “What now?”
“Do you know Elena’s last name?”
“I don’t. Never heard it. I know Gilbert’s, though. His is Stanley.
Gilbert Stanley.”
“He’s not Latino?”
“He is.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “Half, like you.”
“When you met Elena, was she in the company of an older, white woman?”
“She was not.”
“Do you think the girlfriend story could’ve been a cover, or do you really believe she and Gilbert were a couple?”
“I don’t have any idea. I didn’t spend much time with them. She did go into Jimmy’s office one time and I did wonder why she was in there when I had never been. They must’ve been giving her instructions then.” She tapped her fingernails on the glass, rocking the slivers of ice left in the tea. “You’re going to have to turn all this info over to Detective Espinoza, aren’t you?”
“Of course. He needs to ID those heads.”
“That means you’re going to have to tell him how you know the name of the woman with the pierced nose. You’re going to have to tell him that I know Jimmy Verdugo and was present in his house when he was plotting some kind of hijacking of Las Moscas.”
He balanced his chin on the back of the chair. None of this would look good for April. “Maybe we can come up with a different story—just a different reason for your presence in that house.”
“We can’t do that, Clay. Once Espinoza talks to Gilbert...and Jimmy, they’re going to tell him about me. And once he talks to them, Jimmy’s going to know that I know about his business. It’ll probably convince him that I stole that flash drive, too.”
Massaging his throbbing temple, Clay said, “Then we don’t tell Espinoza about your involvement at all.”
“How are you going to explain that you happen to know the first name of a woman who wound up dead at the border?”
He shrugged, feigning a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “I come in contact with a lot of mules, drug dealers, users, you name it. I’ll say I came in contact with her before—remembered the nose piercing, remembered her name but nothing else.”
“How is Espinoza going to tie Elena to Gilbert Stanley? He needs that connection to do a full investigation.”
“I’ll think of something. I don’t want you involved any more than you are.”
“Which is a lot, isn’t it?” She stacked the plates on the table. “You need to get going on those security systems. Meg won’t be happy if hers isn’t in place before we leave for New Mexico.”
“I’m going to tell Espinoza Elena’s name first. The sooner he knows, the better. I’ll do it on my way to Kyle’s, my friend in security.” He cocked his head. “Do you want to come with me? You’ll have to keep quiet about Elena, though. Can you do that?”
As the words left his lips, he acknowledged their obviousness. April kept secrets better than anyone he knew.
Her eyebrows formed a V over her nose. “I don’t want you to get into trouble covering for me.”
“It’s not like Espinoza isn’t going to get the information we know. He is. The kind of trouble I’d be facing is nothing compared to the kind of trouble you’d be facing from Jimmy if he catches on that you know more than you’re claiming to know. You’re not out of the woods with that guy yet. This would put you firmly back in those woods—up a tree.”
“Two years ago, you would’ve been happy to see me twist in the wind.” Her bottom lip trembled, and he placed the pad of his thumb against the plump middle.
“Never. I never wanted anything but the best for you, April.”
“Same. It’s just that I knew the best for you wasn’t me.”
A spark ignited in his heart. Was that why she’d left him? Some stupid notion that because her father had been suspected of murdering her mother and her brother had gone off the rails after finding her body that she wasn’t good enough for him?
“Did you...?”
She put up one hand. “Let’s leave it. I’ll clean up while you change into civilian clothes, and we’ll break the news to Detective Espinoza together.”
The spark he’d felt earlier died out, but he stoked it with hope that they could return to this conversation.
“Okay, just put the dishes in the dishwasher and leave the pan in the sink. I’ll take care of it later.” He pushed to his feet and strode to his bedroom to change out of his uniform.
An hour later, they pulled into the parking lot of the Paradiso PD and asked for Detective Espinoza inside.
Espinoza came bustling out of a back office, his cowboy boots clomping on the tile floor. “We ID’d the young Latina.”
April grabbed on to Clay’s belt loops in the back and tugged.
“That was fast. Who is she, and what’s her story?” Clay crossed his arms over the folder with Elena’s picture.
“Her name is Elena Delgado. We got a hit on her fingerprints for a couple of car thefts.”
April’s hold loosened. “So, she had a record?”
“Enough of one to have her prints on file, and those cases gave us an accomplice, too.” Espinoza rubbed his hands together. “I’m guessing he’s involved in this latest scheme that got his girlfriend killed.”
“Elena has a boyfriend somewhere?” Clay shifted from one foot to the other.
“Jesus Camarena.” Espinoza flicked open another file folder and jabbed his finger at the picture of a young Latino with a mustache. “Every crime that girl committed was in the presence of Camarena.”
April seemed to freeze behind him. Even her breathing stopped.
Clay asked, “Where’s Camarena now?”
“That’s the big mystery. His name hasn’t popped up in a while.” Espinoza scratched his chin. “Last known address we have for him is in Phoenix.”
April sighed, the air warm against the back of Clay’s neck. “Maybe he got a new identity. Changed his name to start out with a clear record.”
Clay jerked, and he reached back to tap April’s leg. They’d just been handed a present and she wanted to throw it back in Espinoza’s face.
The detective hunched his shoulders. “Maybe, but we’re gonna track him down one way or the other to find out his role in this mess. We have another person to ID.”
“You’re going to have to find the body to get her prints or wait for the DNA test results, but if she hasn’t been arrested for a felony, her DNA isn’t going to tell you much.” Clay brushed the back of his hand across his forehead.
“The name Elena Delgado mean anything to you, Archer?” Espinoza narrowed his eyes, his gaze dropping to the folder in Clay’s hand.
“Nope.” Clay cranked his head back and forth. He held up the folder. “I was going to tell you she looked familiar to me from the photos of the head, but features in that condition are hard to distinguish.”
“Just wondering why Las Moscas went to the trouble to leave one head on your porch and the other on your... Ms. Hart’s.”
“They want Border Patrol to back off.” Clay smacked the folder against his hand. “They’ve sent us messages before—just not this extreme.”
“Extreme times call for extreme measures.” Espinoza wagged his finger between him and Clay. “I’ve been up front with you. You can be up front with me. Quid pro quo and all that. I’ve heard Las Moscas is stepping up its shipments across the border, financed more tunnels. They’ve monopolized some provider in Mexico.”
“El Gringo Viejo.” Clay’s eye twitched.
“The old gringo—yeah, that’s the name I heard. Any idea who that is?”
April sucked in a soft breath beside him, and he shrugged. “We don’t know. Probably some old, white guy.”
“Brilliant deduction, Archer.” Espinoza clapped Clay on the back with a chuckle. “Why did you come in to see me?”
Clay waved the folder in front of him. “Just to tell you the woman looked familiar, but you beat me to the punch.”
“We’ll keep you posted on the drug angle if we get anything from this Camaren
a. That poor little lady didn’t have a chance once she joined forces with that guy.”
“And we’ll keep you up to date on any activities at the border that might relate to this case.” Clay made a half turn, putting his hand on the small of April’s back. “I’ll be out of town for the next few days. You have my contact info if something comes up.”
“Agent Dillon’s out of pocket, too. You’re leaving me with that green kid, Valdez?”
“Put him through some paces. He’ll be fine.”
Once outside, April heaved a huge sigh, her shoulders slumping. “That was a piece of luck. We just had to lie by omission. We didn’t have to flat out lie.”
“There’s a difference?” He raised one eyebrow. “Is this the world according to April?”
A pink blush rushed into her cheeks, and she turned away. “I’m glad they ID’d Elena Delgado. Do you think they’ll track down Jesus, aka Gilbert?”
“So, that was him in the booking photo of Camarena that Espinoza showed us?”
“You couldn’t tell by my reaction? I almost passed out.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Clay grabbed the handle of the passenger door and paused. “Detective Espinoza could get an anonymous tip about a certain house in Albuquerque.”
“It’s totally possible that the cops would track down Gilbert after identifying Elena, right? Jimmy wouldn’t necessarily suspect me of dropping a dime on them. Besides, Jimmy has no idea that Elena’s head was left on my porch. Las Moscas isn’t going to tell him anything.”
“Jimmy has bigger problems than a runaway bride right now. He’s probably sweating bullets wondering if his bosses in the cartel are going to tie him and Gilbert to the two mules trying to poach Las Moscas’ shipment.”
April leaned her hip against the car door. “They’ll kill him, won’t they?”
“If what they did to those two women is any indication of the wrath of Las Moscas, I wouldn’t want to be in Jimmy’s shoes right now.” Not that he wasn’t in Jimmy’s shoes just two years ago when April had run out on their wedding. He popped open the door and held it open for her.
Evasive Action (Holding the Line Book 1) Page 9