by Ellie Danes
Bree dropped her voice to a whisper so Maggie couldn’t hear. “You don’t even remember what that mistake was, Nathan. How can you expect to fix it?”
“I don’t know the how, I only know that I have to,” I said. “I couldn’t face myself, Bree, if I didn’t try.”
The truth of it was that I couldn’t face Bree again if I didn’t try to make things right. Whatever I had done had affected her, too. If I ever hoped to track her down, I wanted nothing to stand between us, especially not whatever deal I had struck with the cartel.
The last thing I wanted to do was go another day without Bree, but it was for the best. I took her hand and kissed it quickly, not sure when I would ever be able to touch her again.
“Come with us, Nathan, please,” Bree said.
I shook my head. “I can’t. I have to do the right thing.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Bree
“Did you remember to the bring the sunblock?” I asked Maggie loudly as a pair of men ambled past us.
The locals snorted, and I took that as a good sign. As long as everyone thought we were silly American tourists, they would never suspect that we were wandering away from border security on purpose.
Another group was approaching us, a mixed bunch who looked like they may have come out of one of the neighboring warehouses. The women nodded but the men just snickered.
I decided to play it up. “Please tell me you have a map.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes at me but decided to play along. “Map? How old are you, Mom? If you let me have a cell phone like I asked for, we’d have GPS and fancy maps.”
“This is exactly why I don’t want you to have all those things. What would you do if the battery wasn’t charged? You’d have to use a map. Now let’s hope to god you know how to read one,” I said.
One of the women peeled off from the group as if she wanted to help us but two men pulled her back. We weren’t heading into a dangerous part of town, and they didn’t want to get involved with Americans.
When they disappeared around a corner toward the local cantina, I breathed a sigh of relief. Maggie, on the other hand, looked more tense.
“No one else is around. It’s almost lunchtime, and it looks like everyone’s on break,” I said.
Maggie nodded but her eyes darted from window to window as we walked between the warehouses. “Nathan said they wouldn’t be looking for us around here. And they wouldn’t be looking for me like this.”
The little girl smoothed down her clean shirt and the look of simple happiness on her face warmed my heart. Maggie was headstrong now that she was free and about as predictable as an animal, but she was happy to be with me.
We dropped the act and headed to where Maggie was accustomed to crossing the border.
“Do they know this is your spot?” I asked, looking out at the field. It was a lot of open space before the culvert and the brush.
Maggie shrugged. “They sent me out with an older kid the first time. She told me she switched it from half a mile down the border because there are thorns in that field.”
As long as the kids arrived on the other side, the cartel didn’t care how they got there. That fact was disgusting but also a relief; no one would be looking for us here in broad daylight.
The other side was a different question, but I put that out of my mind and concentrated on Maggie.
The little girl had a backpack full of essentials: food, money, and clean clothes. I worried that she would decide her chances were better with border security, but Maggie never showed any signs of bolting. In fact, it was the opposite.
“There’s mud here, be careful.” Maggie caught my hand and led me around the slimy patch.
“Thanks,” I said and gave her hand a squeeze.
Maggie dropped my hand but there was a little smile on her lips. Over the field, into the culvert, and through the brush, Maggie kept reaching out to ‘help’ me.
I wondered how long it had been since the little girl had felt a reassuring touch, and I fought the urge to hug her tight. It was enough that she trusted me and let me near her, much less touch her hand.
“Maybe we want to stay up here,” I said. “At least the brush offers a little shade.”
Maggie mopped the sweat off her forehead but disagreed. “Animals don’t go into the culvert if they can help it.”
I stumbled and Maggie reached back for my hand. “Animals? Like bunnies?”
Maggie giggled. “No. More like snakes.”
I caught her hand and wouldn’t let go. “Lead the way as long as it’s away from snakes.”
The little girl tugged me along with a smile on her face. “Snakes aren’t so bad. I always asked my mom if I could have one.”
I shook my head. “Maybe now’s a good time to ask for something else like a puppy or a kitten. You deserve fuzzy kisses, not fangs.”
Maggie giggled again. “My mom said nothing with scales.”
“Or eight legs. Those are good rules when it comes to a pet,” I joked.
Maggie stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment. “There was a little boy at the compound who had a pet lizard for a while.”
I bit my lip and was glad when Maggie didn’t tell me what happened to the lizard. Instead, we pushed our way through the thick underbrush and popped out on the US side of the border.
Maggie settled down and pulled out a snack, content to wait as Nathan had instructed us. She handed me a licorice stick, but I couldn’t sit down. My blood was humming and all my instincts were snapping as if electrified. Too much adrenaline and too much worry.
There was no way I was going to be able to sit quietly in the bushes until the sun set. “Finish your snack; we’re heading to the bus stop as soon as you’re done,” I told Maggie.
She peered up at me. “Nathan said to wait. It’ll be safer in the dark.”
“It’ll also be harder to see if anyone is looking for you,” I said. “Besides, I don’t want you spending the night in El Paso. You should be on your way home as soon as possible.”
Maggie studied my face with a worried frown but finished her snack and stood up. She crawled to the edge of the brush and peeked out.
“I don’t see the van,” Maggie said.
“Good. Let’s go.” I stepped out of the bushes and marched down the side of the road at a deliberate, fast pace.
Maggie tried to keep up but her head kept whipping around. Every car she saw made her pull back in fright.
“I don’t see any white vans,” I said.
Maggie nodded. “I don’t either.”
I smoothed down her braid and gave her cheek a reassuring pat. “They won’t recognize you. You look very grown up carrying that purse.”
The little girl patted her new bag and seemed relieved it was vastly different than the backpack she’d had on yesterday. “I’m not sure they even remembered my name,” she said.
“Nathan never forgot your name,” I told her. “Even when he was having trouble remembering other things, he still knew there was a little girl named Maggie who needed his help.”
Maggie smiled at that and relaxed. Nathan had said the more confident we appeared, the less likely anyone would be to notice us.
But he didn’t say anything about how to handle the police. Maggie’s hand fidgeted into mine as a squad car cruised toward us.
“Just follow my lead. Argue against whatever I say. Be really mad at your ‘mom,’” I told her.
I shook off her hand and began to gesture wildly. I waited until the squad car pulled up next to us and then began yelling.
“I still have no idea what you were thinking! You want me to treat you like an adult and yet your thinking is unbelievably childish. You can’t just run away like that!” I took a breath to yell some more but the squad car’s front window rolled down.
“Is there a problem here?” the police officer asked.
“If you call a willful, idiotic pre-teen a problem, then, yes, sir, we have a problem here,” I sai
d.
“Mom!” Maggie yelled in just the right disgusted and embarrassed tone.
The officer scratched his head. “I’m sorry, what’s happening?”
“What’s happening? I’ll tell you what happened. I grounded her for dropping her phone in the swimming pool, and she decided she had to run away. She ran for the actual border!” I turned and gestured vaguely in the wrong direction.
The police officer exchanged a low comment with his partner and the car began to roll forward. “You want us to take her in? Make sure she never thinks of running away again?”
I grabbed Maggie’s arm. “No, thanks. I’ve got it from here. See? You could have gone to jail.”
We could hear the police officers chuckling as they cruised away. Then it was quiet enough for Maggie to hear my stomach growling.
“Want some of my snacks? We can always hide in the bushes again,” she said.
I shook my head. “No. We need to look like we have no reason to hide; otherwise, we’ll stick out.”
I scanned the area and noticed a clump of people around a taco truck. The border was only a few miles up the road, but people were hot and hungry and needed a break before they sat in their cars in the long lines.
“I don’t like tacos,” Maggie said.
I tugged her across the street. “I’ll eat yours while you complain. That’s believable mother-daughter stuff, right?”
Maggie giggled. “I guess so.”
We joined the other tourists in line at the taco truck and then found a spot at a picnic table in the shade. The parking lot was busy, and Maggie was nervous. Then a mini-van pulled in and let out a small crowd of kids. Maggie watched them joke and play with a rapt curiosity.
I relaxed and took a big bite of a taco.
“Is Nathan your husband?” Maggie asked.
I coughed hard to dislodge the tortilla from my throat. “My husband? No. Nathan is not my husband.”
“But he will be? You’re getting married?” Maggie asked.
I put down my taco and faced her across the picnic table. “Why do you ask?”
Maggie smiled. “Because you’re nice and Nathan’s nice. I like when you two are together.”
“Well, that’s sweet of you to say.”
“And I saw him kissing you in the bathroom,” Maggie said.
I laughed out loud until I remembered I was supposed to be posing as her mother. “I hope you’re not thinking of kissing anyone soon.”
Maggie stuck out her tongue. “Yuck. No.”
She went back to watching the other kids play. I looked down at my taco but I had lost my appetite. It had only been a few hours but I felt Nathan’s absence like a hole inside me.
I had wanted to leave him the other night. I had intended never to see him again. And the entire time, right up until I ran into Maggie, my mind had been screaming that I was making the wrong choice. Now here I was doing it all over again.
This time, my reason was better, but I still missed Nathan more than I would ever be able to say.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Nathan
I tugged on the shirt that I had stolen from the motel lobby’s lost and found. The elbows were so worn I was afraid I would rip it but the thin plaid shirt fit. I snapped the front closed, leaving enough neck exposed to look careless, then I contemplated myself in the mirror again.
The hair dye Bree had bought me worked perfectly. My dark hair now had a reddish hue. I had trimmed my beard back and left a scraggly mustache. My lips itched to get rid of the smarmy facial hair, but I forced my face to settle into a glazed and desperate look.
If this was going to work, I needed to look and act the part.
I practiced my Southern drawl again. “Evening. Any chance you could point me in the right direction?”
I frowned. There was no way of telling if I sounded believable or not. Bree was gone.
I reminded myself for the hundredth time that she was taking Maggie home and it was all for the best, but the thought didn’t comfort me at all. I missed Bree already and if I couldn’t get her out of my head, there was a good chance I would screw up my cover story.
It was ironic, I thought as I stuffed the remaining roll of cash into my boots, that I was posing as someone in desperate need of cash. I strategically split the fat roll into smaller flat folds and tucked one in each boot. Then I folded a few more into the waistband of my underwear before I tucked in my faded shirt.
I had decided the easiest role was that of a gambling addict. I loved to play cards and my own flagrant betting had gotten me into trouble more than once. It would be an easy act for me to pull off. All I had to do was look and sound desperate and hope that someone from the cartel was listening. They would jump at the chance to hook someone like me. I had no family, no connections, and I needed something bad enough to deal with them.
It was a long-shot for making contact with the cartel, but I had nothing left to lose. Maggie was safe, or would be soon, and Bree was gone. If I wanted any hope of catching up to Bree before she started a new life, I needed to wrap this up as fast as possible.
I tugged a cowboy hat low over my eyes to complete the ensemble. It was the perfect prop to fidget with while keeping my hand near the gun in my belt.
The motel clerk was confused when he saw me but his online video loaded and he was anxious to not be working. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“I need a suggestion for a place to get a drink,” I said. “Maybe a little action, too. Billiards, cards, you know what I’m saying?”
The clerk frowned at me but I had already paid through the next day, so he had no real interest. “There’s a bar about four miles east of here. Long, narrow building, not a lot of windows, but you’ll see the neon beer signs.”
“Good place to make some bets, play for cash?” I asked.
Again, the clerk pursed his lips but he nodded. “My brother-in-law has lost his whole paycheck down there once or twice.”
It sounded like just the break I needed. And my cover seemed to be working because the clerk was worried about my low cash situation.
“Will you be staying another night?” he asked.
“Nope, but you better make it a late check-out,” I told him. Then I tipped my hat and left the motel, heading in the direction he pointed.
I walked in order to make my appearance dustier, but it was also to clear my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about Bree, and I swore I could still taste her on my lips. The fresh air and my punishing pace should have been enough to push her to the recesses of my mind.
It didn’t help that I was passing where Maggie and Bree would have jumped the fence into the open field.
I peered out across it as if I could see that they crossed safely. That’s why I almost got hit by the first squad car.
Police careened toward the border crossing and I stood back as the squad cars called curious people out of the restaurants and bars. Everyone’s attention turned toward the border crossing, and my heart turned into a block of cement.
I followed the nosey crowd to the corner where we could all try to catch a glimpse of the commotion. I peered over the crowd and prayed that it wasn’t Maggie and Bree.
Another squad car flew by.
“Any idea what’s going on?” I asked the man standing next to me.
He scrolled through his phone and finally found the social media feed he was hoping for. He showed me his phone and explained, “It was a routine stop until security found blocks of cocaine in the tires of some car.”
“From what I hear, that stuff happens all the time,” I said.
The man snorted. “Yeah, the idiots. Except this time the driver decided to try his luck with a car chase. He just forgot about the tires and the cocaine. Now it’s all over the street.”
So, Bree was safe, even better off now that some stupid criminal had made a big scene at the border crossing.
I thanked the man and turned back toward the dive bar.
I only made it halfway do
wn the block before I turned around. What if the driver had been under orders from the cartel? That would explain why he panicked enough to drive off with cocaine billowing out of his tires.
It was an interesting thought. Even if the driver hadn’t been one of their own, the cartel most likely had someone at the scene. They would want to know who it was if it was one of theirs or what foolish competitor was trying to use their section of the border.
All I had to do was hang around and look for the now-familiar gunmen in their dark suits. It would be much easier to follow them from the crowded streets near the border crossing than from a dive bar on the outskirts of town.
Then I thought of Bree.
If she could stick to the plan despite her protests, then I could, too. I turned away and headed to the dive bar.
Instead of concentrating on my cover story and character, all I could focus on was how I’d find Bree again. It wasn’t until I walked up the steps of the dive bar that I managed to shake her off and concentrate on the task at hand.
I opened the door, ready to check the rude customer pushing his way out. Then I remembered I was in character and had to let the man shove me aside. My fist clenched but I played it up because the door to the bar was open and a few regulars watched with bored expressions.
“Excuse me,” I said, gripping my shoulder as if the rude man had bruised me.
The bartender gave me a shrug. “What’ll it be?”
“How about I start with a glass of ice? I think I’m getting a bruise,” I said.
He shook his head. “Bar is for paying customers only.”
I dug into my front pocket, the one I’d kept deliberately light, and pulled out a few rumpled bills. “Then I’ll take a draft beer.”
The bartender poured it and slid it across the bar from me. He eyed the cash then me before he took it.
I took off my hat and took a sip. “Yeah, that’s the cheap stuff. Hey, if you want a bigger tip maybe you could point me in the direction of some friendly betting?”
The bartender shook his head and moved farther down the bar.