Dance of the Bones

by J. A. Jance

  From Henry’s point of view, that was what was wrong with this whole arrangement. He was tired of being bossed around, not just by Jane, but by Lucy, too. He was done. He’d give the woman her damned diamonds, pick up his money, and that would be it. He’d take care of Tim and Gabe, of course. That was a must, but after that, Henry was out of there.

  Most of the illegal commerce crossing the border was headed north rather than south, but Henry knew ­people who could and would help transport him and his wad of cash in the other direction. Why work for a living? Why bust his balls herding a Border Patrol SUV all over hell and gone, when he could shuck the whole thing and live like a king in Mexico?

  Yes, Henry thought. It was definitely time for him to ride off into the sunset.

  Out of the shower, Henry dressed. He was almost out the door when one last thought occurred to him. Jane had promised him a bonus for cleaning up her mess, but what if she considered him just another part of that same mess? What if Jane was planning on cleaning him up, too? That was definitely a possibility. After all, wasn’t Henry as much, if not more, of a threat to Jane than the José brothers had been?

  In that case, Henry had best be on guard. He was determined that Jane Dobson wouldn’t take him down without a fight. He already had one weapon on him, but when he went to the garage to pick up the diamonds, he’d grab another one as well. If one gun was good, two were better.

  Henry wasn’t due at Jane’s until after dark. Since he still had time to spare, he sat down and made a single phone call to a number in Nogales. The call that would show on his bill would lead to what was ostensibly an aboveboard shipping and expediting company that specialized in cross-­border transportation issues. Inside the company, however, were ­people who handled far more questionable transportation arrangements.

  Henry’s call was patched through to one of those. These were ­people Henry dealt with often. It took only a matter of minutes for him to negotiate a deal that included a time, location, and price for having him and his goods carried across the border and deep into the interior of Mexico. Early the next morning, he’d drive out to the Organ Pipe National Monument, park his truck at the appointed spot, lock it, and walk away.

  As Henry hung up the phone, he was in a much better frame of mind. Tim José had been locked in the back of the truck for going on twenty hours, Gabe Ortiz for only half that long. Still, without water, they wouldn’t last much longer. A few hours of being parked in a black vehicle in direct sunlight would finish them off. Yes, ­people would know it was Henry’s truck, but Henry would be long gone by then. And so would Gabe and Tim. Other than parking the truck, Henry wouldn’t have to lift a finger or pull a trigger. That might not be better for the two boys, but it would sure as hell be better for Henry.

  WHEN LORRAINE JOSÉ FINALLY FELL into an exhausted slumber, Lani made her escape. Out in the hallway she ran into Lucy Rojas. “What are you doing here?” Lucy wanted to know. “Isn’t this supposed to be your weekend off?”

  “It is,” Lani answered, “but Mrs. José needed me. You’ve heard about her sons?”

  Lucy nodded. “It’s terrible.”

  “Yes, it is,” Lani agreed, “so if she wakes up and asks for me, call me immediately.”

  “I will,” Lucy said. “Where are you going?”

  “There’s a group over at the airport searching for Tim José and Gabe Ortiz. I’m going there to help.”

  “I hope you find them,” Lucy said.

  “So do I.”

  Out in the parking lot, Lani hopped into her Ford Fusion and headed for the airport. That was something of a misnomer, however, since the airport in Sells was an airport in name only, one that saw few planes land or take off in the course of a year. These days it was mostly a hangout for teenagers who went there to neck and drink.

  Decades earlier the tribal chairman had been a pilot who had kept his own small Cessna there. At the time the airport had consisted of a single landing strip/runway as well as several outbuildings. When the chairman’s plane had crashed, killing all on board, the tribe had stopped doing upkeep on the runway. Most of the outbuildings had been repurposed or rented out. One of those was the sturdy metal Quonset hut that Henry Rojas used as a garage and workshop, leasing it from the tribe for a nominal sum.

  Even though few planes came and went these days, the airport’s metal cattle guard still kept grazing animals from straying onto the property. As Lani approached, she saw a collection of cars scattered along the fence line. Taking a hint from where the other cars were parked, she stopped along the fence line as well. Leo Ortiz’s tow truck was pulled up close to the door of a Quonset hut. Then she saw what looked like the flare of something that might have been a blowtorch. She was shading her eyes and squinting in that direction when someone knocked on the window next to her head.

  Startled, Lani looked around. Henry Rojas stood just outside. She rolled down the window. “Have they found something?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he said, “maybe.”

  She didn’t spot the syringe until it was coming through the open window. She tried to dodge away, but Henry caught her wrist with his other hand and held it motionless while the needle bit through the sleeve of her lab coat and plunged into her arm.

  “What the hell?” she demanded. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Saying nothing, he maintained an iron grip on her wrist until Lani felt a strange lassitude spread through her body. She tried to yell for help, but the ­people gathered by the Quonset hut were too far away and totally focused on what was going on there.

  The next thing Lani knew, she was being shoved roughly to one side as Henry moved her from the driver’s side to the passenger side by lifting her useless legs over the center console.

  As the paralysis closed in, her mind stayed focused long enough for her to realize that he’d given her something powerful. Depending on what it was and the dosage involved, she might awaken in as little as half an hour or it could take far longer. And when she did wake up, would she have her wits about her or would she be stuck in some kind of date-­rape-­drug confusion and fog?

  Henry was behind the wheel now. When they reached the highway, he turned the wheel sharply to the left and sped away.

  How soon before someone comes looking for me? Lani wondered. How long before they realize I’m gone?

  A NOISE AWAKENED GABE—­A METALLIC noise of some kind that meant someone was coming. If it was Henry, Gabe knew he had to be ready, but where was the knife? It was no longer in his fingers and for several desperate seconds, he was afraid he’d lost it. But then he found it again—­right where he’d left it—­in his pocket.

  Tim José lay beside him, burning with fever and still as death. Gabe could hear his friend’s shallow breathing, but that was all. In the coming battle, there would be no help from that quarter. It would all be up to Gabe and nobody else. Henry had left the two boys bound and helpless. He had no way of knowing that they were loose. The fact that Gabe was armed and ready to fight was the only element of surprise the boy had on his side.

  Flicking the knife open, Gabe gripped it tightly and willed his cramped muscles to obey him when the time came. That was when he realized that, for the first time in his life, he didn’t need anyone else to do the fighting for him. Gabe Ortiz himself was ready to do battle—­ready to kill if necessary—­if that’s what it took to save Tim’s life and his own.

  For several long seconds, the only sound in the oppressive darkness was the dull hammering of Gabe’s own heart. Then he heard something else, someone shouting his name. The sound seemed to come from somewhere far away. When he tried to answer, Gabe was surprised to find that his tongue was swollen. No words came out of his mouth, only a hoarse croak.

  The shout came again. In the background Gabe heard the frantic barking of a dog and the wail of a siren.

  “Gabe, where the hell are you?
” Gabe heard the desperation in his father’s voice and tried his best to answer.

  “We’re here,” he said, “right here.” But it didn’t seem as though anyone outside the box could hear him.

  Then, to his immense relief, there was a sudden shaking and rattling as someone opened the tailgate on the truck. And then a dazzling beam appeared in the darkness as light entered through one of the ventilation holes. A moment later, the box itself moved, as though it was being pulled from the bed of the truck and placed on what felt like solid ground.

  “I hear you, Gabe. We’ll get you out. Hold on. There’s a padlock,” his father said. “Somebody get me a fucking crowbar.”

  Gabe almost giggled at that. He had never heard his father say a bad word before—­not ever, not once. That was when Gabe remembered. He and Tim had both soiled themselves. He’d grown accustomed to the stink, but what would happen when other ­people saw them that way? What would they think? Would they point at them and call them babies?

  No, he realized. They would not. He and Tim were supposed to be dead, but they hadn’t died. It didn’t matter how they looked or smelled. They were alive.

  As the hasp gave way, Tim stirred beside him. “What’s happening?” he mumbled. “Is he coming back?”

  Gabe flicked the knife closed and pressed it into his friend’s feverish hand. “No,” he said. “It’s my dad. They found us.”

  The lid opened. Fresh air and more blinding light flooded their prison. The first face Gabe saw belonged to his father. “Son,” he said, reaching for Gabe. “Come on.”

  “No,” Gabe said. His voice was starting to work now. “Get Tim first. He’s worse off than I am.”

  Several willing hands reached into the box and lifted Tim out. A moment later a single pair of strong arms—­his father’s—­grabbed hold of Gabe and lifted him out, too. The next thing he knew, Leo Ortiz was holding his son against his chest, cradling him as though he were a newborn.

  “I thought we’d lost you,” his father sobbed. “I thought you were gone forever. We thought both of you were.”

  Gabe had never seen his father cry. “I’m all right, Dad,” he said, wiping away his father’s tears. “I’m all right.”

  Just then he caught a glimpse of Tim on a stretcher with a bottle of some kind of fluid attached to his arm. For just a moment, the knowing spirit that had been with him in those long-­ago hospital rooms returned to him. In a flash of joy, he realized long before anyone else that Tim José was not going to die.

  Someone in the background—­Dan Pardee, Gabe thought—­passed him a bottle of water. He took a tiny sip. It tasted wonderful, better than any water had ever tasted before, but his mouth and throat were so parched that at first one sip was all he could manage.

  “I’m okay,” he told his father again. “And Tim will be okay, too.”

  Leo took a ragged breath. “Come on, Dan,” he said. “Since you and Hulk are the ones who found them, how about if you give us a ride to the hospital?”

  Outside with ­people milling around and still in his father’s arms, Gabe was surprised to discover that it was dark—­that the flash of light that had seemed so blinding had come from the fluorescent overhead shop lights in the garage. In the fresh air, Gabe could smell himself. The rank odor was almost overpowering. He was ashamed when his father placed him in the back of Dan’s Explorer and crawled in after him.

  A woman’s face appeared in the window next to Leo. She pounded on the glass and held up a badge. She wasn’t someone Gabe recognized, but since her badge said FBI, that wasn’t too surprising.

  “We need to speak to him,” she demanded.

  “After,” Leo Ortiz said firmly through the still closed window. With that, Dan hit the gas pedal, and they sped away.

  They arrived at the hospital entrance less than two minutes later. Gabe more than half expected that Lani would come out to meet them. When she didn’t, he decided she was probably busy taking care of Tim.

  Leo helped Gabe out of the SUV and was leading him toward the door when Lucy Rojas came running through the door and stopped directly in front of them. “Is it true what they said,” she demanded, “that the boys were in Henry’s garage and locked in his truck?”

  “It’s true,” Leo said, trying to brush past her, but she didn’t budge.

  “Where is he?” Lucy’s face was filled with anguish, and Gabe realized that the woman knew nothing about what her husband had been doing.

  “I saw your Toyota parked out by the airport,” Leo said. “Henry probably saw what was happening and used it to run off somewhere.”

  Dan Pardee nodded. “That’s what I heard, too. They’re planning on organizing another search—­for him this time.”

  “But I don’t understand,” Lucy objected. “What’s this all about?”

  Gabe was still holding the bottle of water. He swallowed another drink and spoke almost normally for the first time. “It’s about diamonds,” he said, “diamonds in a peanut butter jar.”

  CHAPTER 25

  THE MOTHER OF SHINING FALLS looked and looked for her daughter, but she could not find her. Then suddenly, she heard her daughter’s voice. And Shining Falls sounded happy—­just the way she used to back when she sang to the children.

  The mother followed the sound of the voice. She kept looking and looking. As the light came and went on the surface of the water in the charco, she could see little Shining Falls’s face smiling up at her. Sometimes the mother could see her daughter’s face very clearly. Other times she could see it only faintly. But always she could see her daughter smiling and hear her singing.

  LANI STIRRED AS HENRY ROJAS accelerated away from the Border Patrol checkpoint. Her shoulders were cramped. Her hands were strapped together with tie wraps while a third one secured her right arm to the armrest on the door. She had no memory of his stopping long enough to cuff her or strip off her coat. Her lab coat had been used to cover the restraints, and no one at this checkpoint had noticed anything amiss. She’d been out cold. She was about to say something when Henry spoke. At first she thought a third person must be in the car with them, but then she realized he was talking to himself.

  Dan had told her that during the long hours when he was alone in the car, he often carried on extended conversations with Hulk. Henry didn’t have a dog, so he didn’t have anyone else to chat with along the way.

  Lani twisted in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. Then she closed her eyes, feigning sleep. She realized he must have given her something other than scopolamine. She was too wide awake and connected for that. Succinylcholine, maybe? But where would that have come from? Had Lucy stolen it from the hospital pharmacy? Was she in on this, too?

  “Going with some money is better than going with no money,” Henry was saying aloud. “Either she gives me enough to get away, or I go to the cops and blow the whistle. It’s about time she paid me what I’m worth. She thinks that she can just order me around like she’s some high and mighty general while I’m her lowly PFC? Screw that. I’m the one who’s been taking all the risks, and I’m the one who’s about to lose everything.”

  What risks? Lani wondered. And she wished she knew who “she” was. Was he referring to Lucy, or was there some other woman involved?

  And that reminded her suddenly of the vision she’d had on the mountain—­on Ioligam. How many hours ago was that now? Less than a day, but it seemed like years since she had seen that ghostly woman in the smoke, an evil Ho’ok, a witch with silver hair. Was that Henry’s mysterious “she”?

  And what about Gabe and Tim? Lani had seen the blowtorch and knew someone had been trying to break into Henry’s garage structure out at the airport. Maybe the boys had been there—­locked inside. But were they dead or alive? And was Henry Rojas the person who had killed Carlos and Paul José?

  Lost in thought, Lani realized that Henry’s monologue ha
d changed. “I need to talk to Francisco,” he said with some urgency. “And I need him now!”

  Lani hadn’t realized she’d heard him dialing the phone, so maybe she wasn’t quite as with it as she had first thought she was.

  A long silence followed. Lani imagined that telephone-­hold elevator music was playing from somewhere. She heard Henry sigh in frustration and what sounded like fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel. He was still on hold when Lani felt the buzz of her own cell phone in the pocket of her jeans. When she went to the hospital and slipped on her lab coat, she routinely switched her ringer to silent. Sometimes she forgot to turn it back on. And this was one of those times. Between the road noise and the music on his own phone, Henry evidently didn’t hear the sound.

  Lani whispered a small prayer of gratitude. As long as she had her phone—­as long as he didn’t realize she had one and took it away—­there was a chance someone could figure out where she was.

  “Organ Pipe won’t work,” Henry said a long minute or so later. “Something’s come up. We’ll have to meet up somewhere else.” There was a pause. “How should I know? I’m inside the Tucson sector right now. Just crossed the checkpoint at Three Points. The fewer checkpoints I have to go through, the better.” Another pause was followed by “No, not Nogales. Too many ­people know me there. What about Agua Prieta or even somewhere in New Mexico? There’s a lot of empty terrain down by the Peloncillos.” Lani heard another voice in the background, speaking loudly enough that his voice carried even without being on speaker.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Henry said. “Changes in plan mean you raise the price. I’m good with that. Call me back when you have the arrangements in place. The number you have for me works.”

  Henry ended the call and the car slowed. Lani wondered where they were, but she didn’t dare open her eyes. She needed him to continue believing she was still out of it.

  AFTER A BUSY AND PURPOSEFUL day, Brandon Walker was surprised to find himself at loose ends. Ava Richland had seemingly gone to ground. With her husband hauled off to TMC, there was no point in hanging around in town. A glance at his watch told him Diana was most likely still caught up in her dinner, so he headed home.