by Ellie Danes
But first I gathered her close and wrapped my arms around her. Bree was the only thing that made sense. The closer we got to where Maggie’s clues pointed, the more confusing things were.
I knew that all hell might break loose tomorrow, but tonight I could hold Bree in my arms and finally fall asleep without dreaming.
Chapter Forty-Two
Bree
“I’m sure it’s a sign,” I told Nathan as we climbed back into our car.
“Just because we ate breakfast at the Good Luck Cafe, does not mean we are going to have this all wrapped up before noon,” Nathan said.
Still, he paused in the driver’s seat and leaned his head back with a contented sigh. He looked like he could nap right there in the parking lot.
“That breakfast burrito was the best I’ve ever had,” I said.
“Oh, don’t remind me.” Nathan sat up and started the car. “We should park a few miles from the mission just so I can work off that breakfast.”
When we got to the mission that matched Maggie’s postcard, there was no reason to park far away. The entire lot was empty. It looked like it hadn’t been used in a while and as Nathan parked the car, I saw a tumbleweed blow by.
“Wow. I didn’t think that actually happened,” I said.
“Maybe you’ll see it again after we take a lap around the place.” Nathan hauled himself from the car.
“You still trying to work off breakfast burritos?” I asked.
Nathan started off around the mission ahead of me. “Something like that.”
I followed behind and wondered why Nathan was hesitating now. Maybe it was the fact that we were so close; to find out our lead was bogus would hurt too much. Or maybe Nathan was afraid of what he would find out.
I remembered how surprised he’d been when the police officer recognized him in Springer, New Mexico. It was possible whoever was inside the mission would know him as well.
What if we finally found out that he’d done something horrible?
“You didn’t.” I caught up and intertwined my fingers with Nathan’s.
“Didn’t do what?” he asked.
“Whatever it is you’re afraid of. I know you’re the good guy,” I said.
He lifted our hands to his mouth and kissed the back of my hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Good. Can we go in now?”
Nathan chuckled and led the way back to the mission door. As soon as it swung open, we could see his fears were unfounded. There wasn’t a single soul inside. Only pictures of saints hanging in heavy old-fashioned frames on the wall. And rows and rows of empty pews.
We walked down the center aisle, not sure what we should be looking for.
“It’s getting close to lunchtime. Maybe all the tourists are enjoying some Tex-Mex,” I said.
“Could be. Still, it looks like a museum. Why would a kid like Maggie come here?” Nathan asked.
I tugged on Nathan’s hand and turned him around. Then I pointed down a long hallway. “Well, there is a gift shop,” I said.
The gift shop turned out to be a little nook inside the mission’s main doors. The large, arched doors were locked but the gift shop door was open. Inside, a small bell rang as someone came through the ‘employees only’ door.
“Welcome, welcome. How can I help you, folks?” The security guard had grizzled gray hair and a hard look, but his words were friendly enough.
“We’re looking for postcards,” I said. Then I gave him my best smile.
He softened a tiny fraction of an inch. “Whole wall of postcards over here. Just tell me the number at the counter and you can buy one for twenty-five cents.”
Nathan stepped up to the wall of choices and grinned. “Man, I miss postcards. I used to get postcards from all over when my old man was in the service.”
“Which branch?” the gruff security guard asked.
“Navy Seals. Same as me.” Nathan bit his cheeks as he remembered his current status with the Navy Seals was less than stellar.
“Good to see a military man,” the security guard said. “Don’t feel like there are enough these days. Too many people choosing the almighty dollar over Uncle Sam.”
“Exactly,” Nathan said.
It was hard to tell if he was still chatting with the security guard or sending me a message. Nathan nodded toward the wall, and I spotted the same exact postcard that Maggie had sent out.
“Can I have one of number nine?” I asked.
The guard nodded and took his time strolling behind the gift shop counter. He slowly flipped through the box of postcards and then pulled out my request.
“Don’t suppose you’d swap it for a kiss,” he said with the grin of an old fox.
“She wouldn’t, but we would love to get a tour of the place,” Nathan said.
The old guard chuckled. “All right, don’t worry. I’d be possessive, too, if she were on my arm. Sorry about the tour, though, no one will be here until three o’clock.”
“I bet you know the history better than the volunteers,” Nathan said.
The security guard gave a curt nod and then sighed. “All right. You can come along on my rounds.”
“Who’s that?” I asked as we walked back into the sanctuary section. The saint on the wall wielded a sword of fire.
“Not much on the saints,” the security guard said. “All I know is that I was a bad man but my time in the Army turned it around for me.”
“I’m worried I’m going the opposite direction,” Nathan muttered.
“What’d he say?” the security guard asked me.
“When was this church erected?” I asked with a bright smile.
He tipped back his hat and scratched his forehead. “Well, this is one of the oldest churches in Texas. Built in the 1600s. You folks big on history or religion or both?”
Nathan snorted. “Neither. To tell the truth, the only reason we came here was because she wouldn’t stop bothering me about this little girl’s lost backpack.”
I picked up on Nathan’s hint. “Yes. We found a little girl’s backpack, and it had this mission postcard inside. We figured she might come looking for her stuff here.”
Nathan showed the security guard Maggie’s picture. “Have you seen her?”
He raised one eyebrow at both of us before he snatched the photograph from Nathan’s hand. The security guard studied it close, but studied us longer. “You two don’t have children of your own?”
“We just met.” It was a reflex that had me cringing. The Cramers were newlyweds, college sweethearts.
“We really just want to return her backpack and get back on our road trip, you know?” Nathan held out his hand for the photograph.
The security guard was not quick to return it. “You find this photograph of her in the backpack, too?” he asked. “It certainly doesn’t look like any place around here.”
Nathan grabbed the photograph from him. “It was a long shot,” he said.
“Now, wait a minute. Don’t get all twisted up. We get a lot of kids through here. School field trips are the majority of our guests.” The security guard shooed us back the way we came. “Nothing is scheduled for today, but our education coordinator came in to use the Internet.”
We let the security guard get ahead of us, then Nathan paused to examine a saint’s painting. “What do you think?” he asked.
“I don’t think he’s trying to sneak off and call the police,” I said. The memory of Mrs. Wheeler was still vivid in my mind, but the security guard didn’t have her nervous, fearful eyes.
“You think Maggie came through here with a school field trip?” Nathan asked.
“Not unless her school paid for a very long bus trip,” I pointed out.
“But she had to be here. The postcard is an exact match,” Nathan said. “She must have come through here.”
The education coordinator turned out to be a very bored college-aged girl. She snapped her gum when she saw the security guard, but didn’t bother to get her
feet off her antique desk.
“Misty, these folks want to ask about a little girl that came through a while back,” the security guard said.
Misty sat up a few inches and glanced at the photograph Nathan held out. “Haven’t seen her. Actually, like, I mean, I’ve seen a dozen girls a day who look a lot like here, but never totally her. She your daughter or something?”
“They found her backpack and are trying to track her down,” the security guard explained.
“Weird. Why didn’t they just leave it in lost and found?” Misty asked.
“Thanks for all your help.” Nathan pocketed the photograph and took my hand.
“Lost and found is by the back door.” Misty snapped her gum and went back to surfing the Internet.
“Sorry about that, folks. Good luck to you.” The security guard nodded us out the door.
“What if they’re calling the police now?” Nathan whispered. He started walking too fast.
“Slow down. Everything’s fine. At least we know that Maggie was here,” I said.
“How? You heard them. Dozens of girls just like her travel through here every day,” Nathan said.
I pulled him to sit down on the mission steps. “You’re forgetting what the man at the gas station said. You can’t get these postcards in other places. They are specially printed postcards to benefit the missions. Maggie had to be here in order to send out that postcard.”
We sat and watched as a few cars pulled into the parking lot. People headed straight for the native plant garden that we hadn’t even noticed. A school bus pulled up, and we could hear the kids singing a chanting song inside.
It was hard not to feel the optimism and energy coming from the busload of children, because I didn’t feel it inside. We’d come all this way only to find out there was nothing else we could discover. Inside, I felt empty, and hopeless.
Nathan leaned his head on my arm. I took a deep breath and pasted a smile on my face.
“We’re close. We have to be,” I told him.
He kissed my cheek and stood up. “You’re right. I’m going to have one last look around.”
I blew him a kiss and waited until he’d disappeared inside to drop the act. I knew we had to stay hopeful, it was all we had, but I didn’t even know what to hope for anymore.
Chapter Forty-Three
Nathan
I turned around and watched Bree from the deep shadows inside the mission church. The sunlight played on her hair, making her look bright and warm, like honey. I wanted to go back outside and gather her up in my arms. Just beyond where she sat was the interstate highway that would take us to California.
Bree stood up and stretched. I was glad she didn’t turn around, because I would have lost my nerve. Instead, Bree bounced down the steps and found herself a more comfortable place in the shade. It was farther from the mission steps, closer to the small crowd milling around the flower garden, but it was far enough away she wouldn’t hear me question the security guard again.
My stomach cramped, and I knew it was because I could already see the hurt look in Bree’s eyes. I just didn’t want to worry her any more than I already had. When we had first heard of the cartel, Bree was terrified. So, I hadn’t told her that the more I thought about the connections, the more worried I was that the cartel had something to do with Maggie’s disappearance.
It was enough that Bree knew about my crazy dreams and my blocked memory. She didn’t need to know my paranoid conspiracy theories on top of all of that.
So, I slipped back into the mission sanctuary and then down the hallway to the gift shop. The security guard saw me coming and met me at the door.
“Lost?” he asked.
“In so many ways,” I said. When he smiled, I took a chance. “I just realized how close we are to the border, and I wondered if you’d had any trouble like we’ve seen on the news lately.”
The security guard’s face turned stony. “This is a place of God. Usually pretty peaceful here.”
“So, you’ve never heard of the New Mexico City Cartel?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed. “And you heard about them on the news?”
I gestured to the window where we could both see Bree stretched out on an old bench. “We were thinking of heading along the border, but I don’t want to put her in any danger.”
The security guard didn’t believe my bullshit any more than Bree, but he was a polite Texan. “Everyone around here’s heard of the New Mexico City Cartel. Kind of like the Bogeyman. They operate this stretch of border.”
“What does that mean, exactly?” I asked.
He tipped back his hat and scratched his forehead. “You know these are fool questions to ask around here, don’t you?”
“That’s why I figured you’re the only one I can ask,” I said. “A good army man would let me know if I was heading the wrong direction. Right?”
“Then I’m gonna tell you: take that pretty girl and head straight to Vegas. You’ll live a lot longer there,” the guard said.
“What does the cartel do with tourists? I thought they would want to avoid contact as much as possible,” I said.
The guard waved me into the gift shop so we couldn’t be overheard. “Tourists are the exact contact they want. Distracts from all the different ways they have to move product over the border.”
“Drugs? How?” I asked.
“Boy, you best let off this train of thought,” the security guard said. “This cartel you are so curious about is dangerous. They’ll kidnap a pretty girl and make her boyfriend carry kilos of uncut cocaine through the airport. If he doesn’t make it, the girl never comes home again.”
“Has anyone ever gone missing from around here?” I asked him.
“It’s not exactly headline news in these parts, and, if it is, you think those cartel men let it be broadcasted?” The security guard pulled out a chewed cigar but did not light it. “Hell, I know a man was thrown into a van, not three miles from here. Last anyone heard of him, he’d been thrown in San Quentin for drug smuggling. God knows what the leverage was, but it couldn’t have ended well.”
I shifted my weight from foot to foot, then decided I had to ask. “I think I met one of those cartel men once.”
I started to describe the man who had recognized me but the security guard held up both hands. “Now you’re just talking crazy. If you’ve had so much as a brush with one these people, your luck has run out. Best get your girl and get out of town.”
“What if I’m done running?” I asked.
The security guard took his hat all the way off and laid it on the counter. “What exactly are you asking me here?”
“I’m asking if you’ve ever heard of a man named Adrian being connected with the New Mexico City Cartel.”
“Oo, boy, you have got a serious death wish,” the old guard said. “You be smarter to head north.”
“And if I was stubborn?”
The security guard pulled his hat back on. “Then you’d go get a drink at La Puerta Roja. Be careful what you ask for around there, though. You might just get it.”
He refused to say anything more. I wanted to buy something, make a donation, anything to show my gratitude, until I realized all he wanted was me as far away from him as possible.
I had to pause on the steps of the mission because the afternoon sun was blinding. When my eyes finally adjusted, I saw Bree sitting in the shade. She looked even prettier there, a cool breeze lifting her hair, the shadows and sun glimmering over her face.
Then the breath left my body. All I could imagine was her being whisked away in a van. They would tell her I was in danger and make her carry drugs into a crowded airport. And Bree would do it. I was starting to realize she would do anything for me and that scared me most of all.
Even more terrifying were the lengths I would go to in order to get her back alive.
I walked toward her slowly, taking the time to mentally destroy all the gunmen we’d run into, anyone who might want to harm Bre
e.
As soon as Bree saw me, she glared up at me. “What took so long?” she asked.
It was there, the suspicion and betrayal in her eyes. The one thing that Bree had asked of me, complete honesty, was the one thing I couldn’t give her. It didn’t matter that I had convinced myself it was for her own safety. I was holding back and it hurt her.
“You found a nice spot in the shade. Almost makes me like Texas weather,” I said.
Bree popped up as soon as I sat down. “You were gone a while. What were you doing?”
“Praying?”
“That would have been more convincing if you didn’t ask it like a question,” Bree pointed out. She crossed her arms in front of her. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. It won’t change anything. I’m still here for you.”
I wanted to kiss her but settled for catching her hand. “I haven’t remembered anything. You’ll be the first person I tell.”
Bree yanked her fingers free. “So, what were you doing in the mission?”
There was no way I could tell her. It was impossible to explain that the only way I knew how to keep her safe was to find out everything I could about the gunmen we’d crossed paths with. I had no hard evidence there was a connection, so it was just speculation. Bree didn’t need to get scared over some silly conspiracy I had cooked up in my damaged head.
“I just wanted to see if there was any other clue,” I said. “I wish we knew for sure if Maggie had been here or not.”
Bree was torn. I could see in her eyes that she wanted to comfort me but that she was still upset. Even though she could tell I was holding something back, she still wanted to make me feel better. Her struggle tore a hole in my chest.
“Nathan, you said you would tell me everything.” Bree started toward the car and didn’t look back.
She didn’t even glance over when I started the car and headed us in a new direction. Bree looked out the window, and I wondered just how far away her thoughts were. Farther than Topeka.