Wrong.
A car across the intersection in the left turn lane with its blinker flashing came out and began a long, looping turn until it was directly across from us. Suddenly it straightened out and came right for us, ramming us in the front end. At the exact same moment, a car behind--a white SUV--rammed into us from the rear. I saw this one coming, and I remember thinking to myself, this can't actually be happening.
But it was.
The next thing I knew, there was a man at each of our windows, and they were firing their pistols at us. Mark shot back at the man on my side. Then I saw Mark's head explode toward me as a bullet came through his window and passed through his head and struck me in the temple. I slumped forward and at that exact moment felt a searing pain in my chest. The men must have panicked just then because the shooting stopped as abruptly as it had begun. I heard a man cry out, "Get the bitch's picture, pendejo. We need the proof!" Suddenly, the sirens were coming, and there were no more voices.
Then it was dark, and I was falling into a warm black pool and disappearing into its folds like velvet.
A THOUGHT. Where am I? An eye opening. Lots of tiny blinking lights, hushed voices.
Then out again.
Both eyes open. I try focusing but cannot. It is all double images. Then I see a face and try to make it out.
Detective McMann. From when Lisa was abducted. What was she doing here? Then it was black again.
The next time my eyes opened I knew it was dark outside. A nurse stood beside my bed. She was holding an instrument in my ear.
"Hello, Melissa," she said solemnly. "Are you feeling like you want to wake up a little bit?"
"Where am I?"
"Hospital. You were shot."
Parts of it came back to me. "Who shot me?"
"You'll have to talk to the detective about that. She's down in the cafeteria."
Then another flash of memory. "Where's Mark?"
I heard a voice off to my left and recognized it as my husband. James had been waiting.
"Mark died," he said. "I'm sorry, Mel. But he shot one of them. Put a hole dead center between his eyes. Detective McMann and the others are running ID on him now."
"How long have I been out?"
"One day. You've been in and out but these are your first words."
"Where are the girls?"
"Home. I hired a security team to stay with them. They're well-protected, believe me."
"Home? Are we going home?"
Then I was out again. The next time my eyes opened, it was morning, and several men in white coats were standing at the side of my bed. In front of them was a stout woman with gray hair parted down the middle and a button on her frock that said something like, "Ask me. If I don't know, I'll ask another woman."
She reached out and touched my arm.
"Damage report, Melissa. Do you want to hear?"
"Yes."
"We removed bullet fragments from the left side of your face. You'll need some minor plastic surgery at that site. You were shot in the right chest. Pneumothorax which we repaired. A defensive wound through your right hand where you raised a hand to defend yourself. Don't try to lift that arm; you can't. You were also struck in the low back when you flew forward after the chest shot. This bullet missed your kidney by less than an inch and traveled straight down. It exited out of your thigh after nicking the thigh bone. You were very lucky. These are students standing behind me. I'm Doctor Lewinsky, and I'm your treating. I expect you'll be able to leave here by tomorrow morning, barring any unforeseen developments."
"What about Mark? How did he die?"
"Gunshot wound to the head. Fragments of that bullet pierced the side of your head and face."
Detective McMann appeared later that morning.
Her first words were, "Mark died protecting you. He shot the man outside your window. Right between the eyes. Then Mark died when he was shot in the head by the man on his side. He could have saved himself by shooting the man on his side, but he didn't. He chose to save you instead."
Hot tears for Mark filled my eyes, but I was too doped-up to feel much more. I said a silent prayer and thanked Mark for saving me. He had always been there for me, I told him. I would never forget him. Then I was out again.
THEN I WAS HOME. For the most part, I was ambulatory. It was slow-going, but at least I was up and around mostly with the help of a cane. This was thanks to my nicked thigh bone and the wound to the leg which had required cleaning and sewing. The leg was extremely sore and throbbed at night after the Oxy wore off. I quit the pain pills the next day. It was my decision because of how terribly addictive they are. I just didn't want to add that to my list of woes.
Lisa came to me the first afternoon I was back. She sat beside me on the couch then leaned forward, her head slumped down on her chest.
"We haven't got to talk yet," I said. "Except I think you told me in the hospital you hadn't heard anything?"
"He hasn't called me."
"He has your number?"
"I'm positive he does."
"You've tried his number again?"
"Way more than I should have. It's out of service. They go through phones like we go through coffee cups. That's why they're so hard for the DEA to track down and kill. We were always moving on a moment's notice. Kids running and crying, women throwing clothes and belongings into pillowcases, running for the trucks, tearing out. It never stopped."
"What do we do about Elena?”
She turned to me with her eyes brimming over. "Honestly? I don't know. I mean--I mean--"
"Come here."
She leaned against my left side--my good side--, and I grasped her shoulders with my arm. Together we both just sat there several minutes. We were beaten down, and we had no ideas left, no plans, no sense of where to even start.
Elena was lost to us, and Javier wasn't calling.
WE BURIED Mark in a grave dug through snow and dirt. Lisa tossed the first handful on his casket when all was said and done. I tossed the second. We stood shoulder-to-shoulder, crying with our heads together as a strong wind threatened to peel away our topcoats and hats and pierced our gloves.
James drove us home in total silence. Lisa was up front with him; I was riding in back with Gladys. Armed security officers followed us in a van.
It weighed heavily on my mind that Mark was Lisa's biological father while I wasn't her biological mother. I realized I'd always felt like that fact gave him a little more right to have her in his life than I did. Compared to him, I was a mommy-come-lately. Now that he was gone I wasn't sure I'd be enough for her, just me without him. Would she need to go find her biological mother? I didn't know. It didn't frighten me, either way. It just made me feel that much more sorrow for my baby, my girl, my Lisa. When was life going to stop hammering this kid? I wondered. Hadn't she suffered enough?
James took the last turn on Oak Drive and came up our street, pulling into our driveway. It was then I saw her standing beside our front door, her back to the wall, smoking and smiling as we pulled in.
Susannah. My original Lisa had come home too.
There had been no forewarning, no calls from her; I had no idea she even knew what state I lived in, but then I remembered Isaac talking to her on the way to the hospital after we rescued her. She'd been asking him all kinds of questions about Chicago and fun things to do, and I vaguely remember Isaac telling her that the town where I lived--Glencoe--was very ritzy and she would hate it there.
That remained to be seen. Hopefully not so.
35
"He could leave at any time," Susannah was telling us after supper. We were all gathered around the kitchen table and had just wolfed down pimento-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Now we were nibbling Fritos, and Lisa was brewing coffee a cup at a time in the Keurig and passing them around.
"Where is he again?" I asked her. "Rosarito Beach? Is that California?"
"It's Baja California. South of San Ysidro about thirty or forty miles. It's a coo
l place with lots of beach, cheap housing and tons of great food. We stayed in this house before. I think it belongs to Iggy, but anyone can go there anytime."
"And you're sure Elena's with him?"
"She was when I talked to him this morning. She and the twins he had with Marisa. Marisa is there too and Juanita, who's Javier's older sister. She's always with him."
"Why did you call him?" I asked.
"Iggy won't take me back. He said I should call Javier and he gave me his phone number. So I called him. He asked me about the time I was with you, Melissa. He asked me if I'd seen you again. I said no. He said good. He said some other choice things about you, too, but I won't repeat those."
"My God," Lisa said from behind me, "Tell me everything he said about Elena."
"Nothing, really. She was just another name to him when he was telling me who all was there. He wanted to know did I want to come to help Juanita with the kids and I asked him which kids. That was when he said it."
"How did you leave it with him?" I asked.
"I said I was coming down."
"When?"
"He told me to bring money. First, he said I should try to steal money from my parents. We're not talking again, them and me, but that's a whole other story. He mentioned Lisa's name and told me he had scored huge with her parents."
"That's a joke! Just the money my Mom gave Iggy for me. Nothing since."
"That's cool," Susannah said. "I'm not saying give him anything."
I had been thinking several moments now. Then I jumped in.
"Susannah, could you take me to his house?"
"Sure. I've been there lots."
"Would you take me and not tell him?"
"I don't know. What are you going to do to him?"
"I haven't decided."
"Will I be staying with him?"
I surprised even myself just then. "No," I said, "you'll be coming back here with this family. You'll live with us while we figure out your life."
"Figure out my life. That' s a funny way to put it," Susannah laughed. "I need to write that down."
"So will you take me there?"
"Will I have to go in?"
"No, I'll be the only one going in."
"What will you do to him? Are you going to kill him and take Elena?"
"Yes. That's exactly what I think I'm going to do."
"Mom!" cried Lisa.
"Mel, honey," James began, but I raised my hand. "Everyone just hold it. This man just killed a man I loved very much. Then he stole my daughter and raped her. Now he has my grandchild. My answer for his life is much easier. He has to go."
"Wow," said Susannah. "You're serious. And you really mean it about me coming here with you?"
"I do. You won't be staying here forever. Neither will Lisa. But we need to help you two get a start in life. At first, you will be living here with us."
Susannah rolled her eyes at the ceiling and dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. "Wow," she said. "Just wow."
James leaned toward me. "You know I can't allow this Mexico thing, Melissa," he said under his breath.
I looked hard at him.
"I don't remember asking you. Nor do I remember turning over my life to you. I married you, and, if you'll remember, no one gave me away. I kept me, and you kept you. Now you do whatever you need, but I'm going after my grand baby, and that's final. From here on you're either with me or you're not. And I won't accept not."
He looked shocked, then amazed. But then his eyes opened wide, and a smile crept across his face.
"How can I help?"
That was the last he had to say about it.
36
I stood right there and heard Susannah talk to Javier with her phone on speaker.
"My dad gave me fifty-thousand-dollars. I'm on my way down to you."
"My beautiful girl! When will you be here?"
"Tomorrow. I'm bringing my mom to meet you. She wants us to get married."
Long silence. The wheels were definitely turning.
"Your mom? Here? I don't think that would be--"
"It's the only way, Javier. Otherwise, I don't get to come."
"Well, then bring her. But she can't stay or nothing."
"She just wants to see where I'll be staying. Plus she wants to meet you before she hands over the money."
"She's welcome to come and do all that. We'll have it all cleaned up and sparkling, so there is no problem."
"Excellent. Now you're at the place two kilometers south of Rosario Beach?"
"Yes. We have been here before with Iggy."
They hung up, and Susannah looked at me.
"How'd I do?"
“You were perfect. We'll be driving out. You have a license?"
"No."
"Can you drive?"
"Absolutely. My California license just got lost."
"So you still have a valid license you just don't have the license card itself?"
"That's it."
"You can help me drive then."
Two hours later we were packed and loaded. Susannah borrowed some of Lisa's jeans and a sweatshirt. I told Lisa we'd get her more.
Why the car?
Before we piled in, I rummaged through the tool chest in the garage. I found an old roll-up cloth that had pockets on the inside for a screwdriver set. I dumped the screwdrivers on the work bench. Then I smuggled out James' father's handgun. It fit inside the sleeve, which I could then roll up. It had two shoelaces sewn to it to wrap around and keep it closed. Except, instead of wrapping and tying off, I rolled it up with the gun inside and the package up under the dash. There was a flange there with a hole on one end that I could thread the shoelace through. Then once around the bag and a slip-knot. I tested it from the driver's seat several times: bad guy coming, reach up under the dash, pull the loose string and the gun rolled down into my hand. Very slick. The inbound Mexican border never stopped and searched, but just on the off-chance they did, I was ready.
We drove straight through. Each of us took a four-hour driving shift followed by a four-hour free time, which I usually used for catnapping. When we arrived at the Mexican border at San Ysidro, I was driving, and I was exhausted. I was so tired I was hearing voices and seeing things--not quite, but almost. The border crossing went without a hitch--no search. Susannah told me it was a felony and automatic prison to get caught with a gun in Mexico. I thought sure, that's why all the cartels and gangs have guns because they're afraid of prison. Right.
We drove straight south from the border, about thirty kilometers to Rosarito Beach. Once we arrived there, we stopped at the Rosarito Beach Hotel and used the restroom inside the lobby. Susannah would drive the final two miles to the hacienda because she knew the way.
We headed out of Rosarito at two o'clock in the afternoon. There was leftover fog that hadn't burned off yet as we were driving along not a half mile from the ocean. Then we came to a turn-out, which Susannah took. Down a short hill we went, bouncing along in the gravel road ruts until we reached the bottom of a hill that overlooked the Pacific. It was beautiful there, but beauty was the last thing on my mind. My heart was pounding as we pulled up in front of Javier's house and Susannah turned to me. "How do you want to do this?"
"We'll go up to the door and knock. If he answers, you yell 'Yes!' and I'll take over. If it's not him yell 'No!'"
"Yes or no. Got it. Should I go in first and make sure Elena's there?"
"No, we lose the element of surprise by doing that. I want a quick, clean shot, a run inside to scoop up my granddaughter, and a dash for the car. This is isolated down here so nobody should hear the shooting."
"Don't worry about that. There are so many guns down here that there's shooting all the time. The whole felony law thing is a joke."
"All right. Well, that's good to know. Are you ready?"
"I am."
"Lean back."
I reached across her legs and pulled the shoelace. The gun dropped into my hand, and I freed it from my ma
keshift case. Then I pulled the slide back like I'd seen James do that night. I moved the safety and--here was my uncertain piece--I assumed I had moved it off since James had most likely left the safety on. If the gun didn't fire the first time, I would have to have the presence of mind to switch the safety the other way and try again.
I saw a face in the front window. It appeared to be a child standing on a piece of furniture and peering out. I would need to be very careful about where I was shooting. We opened our doors and climbed out. Susannah put the car keys in her pocket, and I thought nothing about it.
Up to the front door we walked. It was made of vertical planks of wood stained reddish-brown and had a wrought iron handle and knocker. At that moment, I was holding the gun just behind my back. I had my finger on the trigger. I took a deep breath. I double-checked with my insides: I had zero compunction about shooting the man who'd raped my daughter and was now raising my granddaughter to be sold like livestock into the hell he had awaiting her. With my left hand, I reached up and rapped the knocker three times. Footsteps could be heard inside along with children squealing. "Someone's here!" a small voice shouted.
Then the door opened.
"Yes!" cried Susannah.
The man looked right into my eyes. "You Susannah's mother?"
"I'm Lisa's mother, you rotten bastard!"
With that, I swung the gun up, centered it on his forehead and pulled the trigger.
The gun went "Click!"
I pulled the trigger again. This time nothing happened.
The look of horror on Javier's face suddenly shifted to rage. He threw the door open, knocking me backward onto the seat of my pants. Then he came for me.
I worked the slide on the gun again and pulled the trigger again with the barrel trained on his midsection.
"Click!"
In one motion I pulled my legs up under me, stood, and ran for the car.
Which was when it occurred to me we didn't have Elena, and I didn't have the keys.
There had been no plan B, I realized in horror. There wasn't a backup plan in the event the gun misfired.
The Empty Place at the Table Page 18