by DiAnn Mills
The building reminded her of a few spots in New York where the same type of crowd attempted survival. Through rubble and a scurrying of rats, she climbed to the top floor. Below, police officers threaded in and out of the building. If the bad guy was hiding inside, he could squirrel away for hours. She made her way to the farthest eastern point and peered out. Officers swarmed this section, too. One of them used a K-9.
Leah climbed down another level, always looking for obscure places, pockets beneath beams, under fallen pipes, and in dark corners. Evidence of those who’d roamed and used the building emerged like pop-ups on a website.
On the next lower level, she made her way to an open wall and walked carefully to the edge. A man raced down the street and disappeared between houses.
Jon learned the dead man’s name was Brad Dixon. He had a record for burglaries. No gang affiliations or distinguishing tats. Dixon carried a new burner phone, the same brand as the ones used by Aaron Michaels and Landon Shaw. Activated but no incoming or outgoing calls or texts.
Jon stopped in a grassy area midway between St. Peter’s and the Falstaff building and watched Father Gabriel praying over Dixon’s body. Did the priest realize he could have been the one receiving last rites? A puzzle, a commitment Jon failed to understand.
He shook his head and weighed what little they’d uncovered about the perpetrators. Who and what was behind all this? Dylan Ortega twisted in his mind like a key ready to unlock the who and why the gang existed.
Father Gabriel joined Jon and Leah and sighed. “Thanks for allowing me to finish my prayers. I recognize the deceased.”
Jon’s senses went on alert. “How do you know the man?”
“Mr. Dixon came to see me Monday afternoon. I’d never met him before. He asked to make confession.”
“The day before Judge Mendez’s death?” Jon said.
“Right. The confession never happened. We were interrupted. Chief Everson barged into my office without knocking and startled us. He demanded we talk immediately. I excused myself and left Mr. Dixon alone in my office. When I returned, he was gone.” He paused. “Now he’s dead. Perhaps I could have prevented this.”
Questions bombarded Jon’s mind, beginning with Father Gabriel and heading back to Everson. “I don’t see how you could have prevented this. Did Dixon recognize Chief Everson?”
“I have no idea.”
“What was Everson’s urgency?” Jon said.
“He found out Marcia Trevelle had seen me earlier in the day. She was worried about him, asked for prayer.”
“Let’s talk in your office and see if we can figure out why Dixon came for confession and how it could be tied to today.”
“All right.”
Jon jogged with Leah to Father Gabriel’s office but was unprepared for what they found inside. Desk drawers were thrown open and papers scattered on the floor. Books tossed into every conceivable place. Stacked boxes in a closet had been dumped upside down.
The priest remained in the doorway. He gasped. “What happened?”
“Were the shooters a diversion?” Jon directed his questions to Leah. “Why didn’t Dixon and his bud walk into the church and forcibly take what they wanted? Or break in at night?”
“And did they find what they were looking for?” Leah stepped around the debris. “Father Gabriel, what do you have that they could possibly want?”
Father Gabriel shook his head. “I’ll check to see what’s missing, but I keep nothing of value here.”
“You were nearly killed today,” Jon said. “Do you see why you need a police officer to protect you? This could have been prevented.”
“I kept thinking Chief Everson needs every uniformed officer until this is over.” He drew in a deep breath. “They might not miss the next time. You’re right. I need protection.”
Leah pulled her phone from her pant pocket. “I’ll contact Everson for an assigned officer, then Houston FBI. We need a team to sweep the area.”
Jon glanced at Leah. “Have any gloves on you? I’d like to check the computer.”
“We’ve used what I normally carry.”
Father Gabriel spoke up. “I’ll get a box from the nursery. Are you allergic to latex?” When Jon shook his head, Father Gabriel gave a rueful grin. “Still doubtful any would fit you.”
“I can do it, and I’m fine with latex.” Leah moved to the desk, but she kept her fingers away from the computer and keyboard until Father Gabriel returned with gloves. She wriggled them on.
“Thank goodness for babies’ behinds.” Jon chuckled.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Is the device locked?”
“Yes,” Father Gabriel said. “The code’s SaintPeter.”
“When this is over, we’re discussing password protection,” she said.
Jon watched Leah quickly move over the keyboard.
“You’ll find only church business. Emails to and from members and the diocese. Files of baptisms, marriages, and funerals. Earlier, I shut it down to cut a few roses from the front bushes before Judge Mendez’s services. Then the shots were fired.”
Jon wanted to ask more questions, but instead he focused on Leah. “What was accessed?”
“Nothing.” She looked at the mess strewn over the floor. “Had to be a tangible item.”
Yet someone seemed to believe Father Gabriel had something vital to the investigation. Jon formed his words to convey his thoughts without frustrating the man and causing him to shut down. “Who in your church has family who may not respect the law?”
The priest touched his white beard. “Family struggles bring many to the church regardless of the situation. I suppose you want the list.”
“Yesterday.”
“The prayer service will be in a couple of hours, and I need to prepare. Afterward, I’ll go through the membership for the type of people you’re looking for. This has to stop.”
41
PRIOR TO JUDGE MENDEZ’S PRAYER SERVICE, Leah sat in the women’s bridal area at St. Peter’s and munched on a burger before showering and changing clothes. She’d been smart to add deodorant and makeup to her bag. The search through the Falstaff building had left her dripping in sweat. She sipped her Diet Coke and thought about the regrettable situation with Silvia Ortega.
Earlier this afternoon Leah and Jon had stopped by the woman’s house to pick up her prescription bottle. A single pill inside had rattled as Silvia handed the bottle to Leah. A quick glance at the label told Leah all she needed to know.
Leah wrapped her fingers around the bottle. “Silvia, your prescription expired eight months ago. No pharmacy would fill OxyContin without a current prescription.”
Silvia had stared at the wooden porch floor as though looking at Leah pained her. “I told you Dylan buys them for me at a discount drugstore in Houston. The store reuses my old bottle to save money.”
Did Silvia really believe that? “You’re in the medical field and understand the strict laws guarding opioids. My job is to uphold the law. Where are you getting the OxyContin?”
Silvia hadn’t responded, just closed the door with the click of two locks.
On their way back to the church, Leah had flipped open the bottle and read the identification on the tablet.
“It’s a match,” she told Jon. “These came from Molston Pharmaceuticals.”
Silvia, have you lied to us since the beginning? Was the woman a part of gang activities? Or was she simply guilty of believing her son? The SAC had agreed to hold off on bringing Silvia in for now, confirming she had the potential to lead them to Dylan.
Her quick dinner at the church finished, Leah let a warm shower soothe her tired muscles. She changed clothes and redid her makeup. Her attention settled on Facebook. Perhaps it was the prayer service and people coming together for Judge Mendez that coaxed her into looking at familiar faces and learning about their lives.
Leah clicked on her mother’s Facebook page and saw the family had gone to the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory, and a whole
album of photos resulted. Leah swiped at a tear. She was alone and hated it.
Tapping her finger on the side of her cell phone, she debated as she had many times before. What could Dad do but hang up?
She pressed in their landline number. In the past, she’d disconnected before the first ring or when he or Mom answered.
“Hello.”
Her throat constricted. A myriad of memories of hearing Dad’s voice swept over her.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Dad. It’s Leah.”
“Who?”
“Leah.”
“Where are you?” He sounded kind and strong like the man she remembered.
“In Houston. I live here.”
“Doing what?”
“I’m a special agent for the FBI.” She hoped her career made him proud.
“It’s been a long time.”
“I’m sorry for what I did to all of you. I was selfish, didn’t see how you and Mom wanted to help others less fortunate.” There, she’d said it.
“Too—”
She heard a crash, and the phone went dead. Had he hung up? Leah trembled. She’d done this to herself. She’d sworn never to be rejected again. To keep her distance from her family. But she’d tried her best to become a better person. She’d taken the guilt and blame and pushed herself to expert marksmanship. Wore duty, priority, and responsibility like a shield. And for what? To one day make the call to Dad and hear him say he loved her? He forgave her? Please come home so they could begin to reconcile their differences? Start over? They’d talk about her brave great-great-grandmother Leah. She’d push a wheelchair, change a bedridden sister, have a conversation with an autistic brother, whatever was needed to make things right.
She and Silvia were in the same muddy waters, allowing those they loved to dictate their self-worth. And losing.
42
AS PEOPLE ENTERED St. Peter’s sanctuary for Judge Mendez’s prayer service, Jon monitored the right rear corner, and Leah handled the left corner.
Mrs. Mendez and her children and mother were the first to arrive. Even the children were dressed in black. Rachel Mendez carried the little boy and held her little girl’s hand as she walked toward her husband’s casket, facing the altar. She reflected her modeling career with grace and poise, her hair and makeup perfected. The little girl cried, and both Mrs. Mendez and her mother attempted to console her.
Other mourners trickled in—Silvia Ortega and Warren Livingston. The woman avoided Leah and Jon. Had Silvia told Warren about the drugs? Everson arrived in full regalia, all four of Judge Mendez’s staff, and a man and woman whom Father Gabriel greeted as Mr. and Mrs. Serrano. Good, he hoped to speak with Lucinda, the priest’s secretary, when the service ended.
Jon glanced at Leah. Rachel Mendez had nothing on her. He believed he had the most gorgeous partner on the planet.
Whoa, back up.
Leah wore the typical navy-blue slacks, white silk blouse, gold earrings, and a simple necklace. Wavy dark hair touched her shoulders. She’d showered there at the church, and the damp curls were . . .
Stop it. Get back to business.
People moved to the middle of the pews to make room for others. Richard and Olivia James entered and seated themselves in a back pew. Olivia’s eyes were red and swollen, and Richard sat ramrod straight. The couple gave anguish a new rung on the ladder of despair. If rebellion kept Elena separated from her parents, she wasn’t the young woman other people described. Her school records showed a student who consistently made the dean’s list and was active in community and church affairs. Jon wanted to find her alive.
When the people finished filing past the casket and speaking to Mrs. Mendez, Father Gabriel led the service of prayer and remembrances of Judge Nicolás Mendez. The priest recalled many of the judge’s excellent contributions to the church and Galveston. He invited others to tell stories and reminisce about their experiences with him. A few comments met with laughter, and Jon learned the judge had a sense of humor.
Father Gabriel shared a few golf stories, as well as times the judge had met him at the church to pray for loved ones and upcoming trials. Others spoke about their experiences with Judge Mendez. Silvia spoke of how he visited the nursery before church and prayed over the babies and toddlers. Mrs. Mendez talked about his love for her and their family.
Jon scrutinized the two women to see if there was any spark of recognition between them. Nothing.
The silver-haired attorney, Ross Kempler, appeared to be spokesman for the judge’s staff. Respect poured into his accountings of working alongside the judge for years. Jon studied each face, searching for malice or deceit. Although many were strangers, he observed prominent people in the community. If any of the mourners were glad the judge had been killed, none showed it.
Everson wore the stress of unsolved murders like a noose. Rightly so, as the victims were his friends and fiancée.
After a lengthy final prayer, Father Gabriel dismissed the people. Several chose to pay their respects one more time.
As the sanctuary slowly cleared, Jon approached Lucinda Serrano, a pale-blonde woman. “I’m FBI Special Agent Colbert. Can we talk for a few minutes?”
“You spoke with her on the phone.” Mr. Serrano grasped his wife’s waist. “She has nothing more to say.”
Jon sensed Leah at his side, and he introduced her. “This won’t take long.” Jon pointed to a pew near the back of the sanctuary.
Mrs. Serrano turned to her husband. “Dear, these people are investigating the murders of three fine people.”
He snorted his response, and the four were seated.
Jon recognized concern in the man’s eyes while Mrs. Serrano grieved. “Father Gabriel told us you knew all the members of St. Peter’s by name, young and old. And you never forgot a face.”
She exchanged a look with her husband. “I want to help, and when the killers are found, I want to return to St. Peter’s.”
Mr. Serrano rubbed his face. “Lucinda, I know you want to return to work, and I realize you’re fulfilled there. And while I don’t want to live in fear for you, you have to decide if talking to the FBI is what’s best.”
Love wore many hats.
She patted her husband’s hand. “Agent Colbert, you’re after the wrong young man.”
“I don’t understand. We have a witness who puts Dylan Ortega at the church.”
“Dylan called me the night before the judge’s death. He was scared because the Venenos were after him. They’d tried to recruit him, and he’d said no. He thought he might need to hide and asked for advice.” She drew in a breath. “I suggested getting as far away from Galveston as possible and to take his mother.”
“Did you give him a specific place?”
“No. But what baffles me is he and Elena are both missing. Where are they, and why didn’t they take Silvia?” She bit her lower lip. “I’m afraid the Venenos found them, and now they’re dead.” She covered her mouth.
“You and Dylan were close?”
She nodded. “I was his contact at church for his community service, and my son had gone to school with him. So we already had a connection. I became a mother figure who listened when his world took a confusing turn. Dylan talked to me about life, his dreams, and about a special young woman.”
“Elena?” Leah said.
“Yes, ma’am. Not many were aware they were together. He was trying very hard to put the past behind him. Elena hadn’t told her parents about them.”
“Have you heard from Dylan or Elena?”
Lucinda shook her head. “If a witness saw Dylan at the church’s back door, then he must have been forced. It’s impossible for him to be a Veneno or have anything to do with Judge Mendez’s murder.”
“Why?”
“He wouldn’t want to hurt his mother or cause her any pain.”
“Which is why you’re questioning the fact that he left Silvia behind,” Leah said.
“I meant emotional damage to his biological mo
ther.”
Jon’s attention zeroed in on Lucinda. “What did you say?”
Lucinda blew out a sigh. “Silvia raised Dylan from a newborn, but she’s not his birth mother. I witnessed the private adoption with Father Gabriel and a lawyer. Dylan learned the truth about three years ago while going through his mother’s papers.”
“Who is his mother?” Leah said.
“Rachel Mendez.”
43
LEAH SHOULDN’T BE JOLTED BY TRUTH, any truth, but the identity of Dylan’s biological mother delivered an incredulous moment. “Rachel Mendez is Dylan’s mother, and you witnessed his private adoption?”
The secretary nodded. “The papers were signed at an attorney’s office here in Galveston when Dylan was two days old,” the woman said. “I never told anyone until this morning when I shared the secret with my husband and now you.”
“Who was the attorney?”
“Ross Kempler.”
The attorney who’d worked twenty-seven years for Judge Mendez. “Were Mrs. Mendez and Silvia friends before the adoption?”
“They met through Silvia’s dental office. Rachel came to Silvia with the adoption proposal, but I don’t know why. Since then, they’ve worked together on church committees.”
A picture formed in Leah’s mind of two women developing an unusual bond, one knit together by circumstances. “I assume he wasn’t supposed to find out about his adoption?”
“Silvia agreed to take him in under the stipulation he never learn the truth. Rachel had two more years of law school left. She modeled to pay bills, and a baby meant her future as she intended came to a halt. I know this sounds like Rachel was selfish, but adoption is a gift of love. She knew Silvia would be a better mother. They agreed in writing Rachel wouldn’t later demand him back or insist upon visitation.”
“The father?”
“Never mentioned. At least not to me.”
“Money exchanged?”
“Not to my knowledge.”