Bullseye

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Bullseye Page 12

by Virginia Smith


  She shook her head, impressed. “How did he find that out?”

  “He’s a computer genius. Maybe he hacked into the law school’s records or something. Anyway, Navarro checked out completely clean.”

  Leaning back in her chair, she allowed an I-told-you-so smirk. “I’m not at all surprised.”

  Mason seemed unconcerned. “There’s more. The only job Navarro ever had was working for a fast food restaurant during the summers while he was in college. And before you ask, it’s a national chain owned by a corporation in Kentucky, and there’s no connection to any of Maddox’s companies.”

  His manner was too confident, too smug. There was something else.

  “So, what’s the connection? What would a judge laugh out of the courtroom?”

  The smile he’d been holding back broke forth. “Navarro never worked for Maddox. But his mother is a private duty nurse.”

  “Let me guess. Hector’s mother is Mrs. Maddox’s nurse.”

  His smile dimmed. “Well, not anymore. But she used to be, back when Hector was in high school. And even though he passed the bar exam only a few months ago, the only debt Navarro has is a car loan. No school loans. That means his college and law school were paid for. Since we know he wasn’t a brainiac, he probably didn’t get any scholarships. And since nurses don’t make tons of money, I’m betting somebody paid Navarro’s way.” He leaned forward, across his plate. “Maybe he’s working for Maddox out of gratitude for putting him through school.”

  “Mason, that’s crazy.” She stared at him. “You’re looking for a reason to distrust Hector. As many businesses as Maddox owns, there’s bound to be a connection to almost every one in this city if you look hard enough. But that doesn’t mean they’re all involved in something dishonest.”

  “I’m being cautious.” He tossed the chopsticks onto the table. “Somebody around here has to.”

  Silence stretched between them. The longer it grew, the more disturbed she became. This wasn’t simply caution. This was a grudge. He blamed Maddox for his wife’s death, and if he couldn’t prove that, he’d find a way to prove him guilty of something else.

  Lord, what have I gotten myself into? And more importantly, what have I gotten Alex into?

  She scooted her plate to one side and reached across the table to grab his hand. “Mason, listen to me. I appreciate all you’re doing. But I think you’re grasping at a bunch of loose threads and trying to weave them into a coat. There’s just not enough there to do the job.”

  She expected him to pull away, maybe even become angry. What she didn’t expect was for him to turn his hand over and entwine his fingers in hers. Or for her insides to turn somersaults when he did.

  “Karina, you called me for help. I came. Why can’t you just trust me?”

  As she sat there, staring into eyes the color of a New Mexico morning, the answer hit her.

  I do trust him. Heaven help me, but I do.

  Gently, moving slowly, she extricated her hand from his and leaned back. Without speaking, she let him see the trust in her eyes.

  He answered with a satisfied nod.

  “But,” she said, her voice loud in the tiny kitchen, “you’re still not spending the night here.”

  A familiar dimple appeared in one cheek. “Wanna bet?”

  * * *

  Mason pounded the pillow and shoved it between his head and the rental car’s headrest. Stubborn woman. Like he cared what the neighbors thought. Since when had Karina become so…so prudish?

  In the quiet that permeated the interior of the car, he admitted to himself that she’d always been conscious of propriety. One time, when they were teenagers, they’d fallen asleep on the porch swing of her father’s house. He had awakened with a start at four in the morning when his body hit the concrete. She’d jerked awake and shoved him out of the swing, practically frantic that the neighbors would think he’d spent the night. And her father and brother were right inside the whole time, slumbering in their beds.

  “We have a reputation to maintain,” she used to insist. “We’re Christians. What we do reflects on Jesus.”

  Mason squirmed in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position. At the time he had agreed with her. But that was a long time ago. Since then he’d done a lot of things that the Lord he used to worship probably didn’t approve of. Dumping Karina to marry Margie was one of them.

  And later when Margie was dead and he lay awake through long, empty nights, he might have found solace in the Lord he had served.

  A familiar feeling nudged at the corner of his mind. A sense that seemed to say I’m still here, my son.

  But Mason had grown expert at ignoring that feeling. Why should he pay any attention to the God who had failed to protect Margie? Who had let him be blamed, while the real killer walked free? Still walked free, in fact.

  He shifted in the seat again and coughed, not because he needed to, but to interrupt the silence in the car. To drown out the feeling, and the invitation he refused to answer.

  Outside, the area surrounding his car grew quiet. Not a soul stirred in the apartment complex, at least not where he could see. In the distance he heard a door slam, and from another direction, the thump of the bass from someone’s stereo, but nothing moved. The window in Karina’s living room went black. She must be heading to bed now.

  With a loud sigh Mason settled into the pillow and pulled the thin blanket she’d given him up under his chin. It was going to be a long night.

  FIFTEEN

  Her cell phone rang while Karina was finishing up a blow dry for a customer. Normally she never answered her phone while she was working, especially when she had an elderly woman in her chair as she did then, because some had little patience for cell phones and considered it rude for their hairdresser to interrupt their visit. But Alex was only allowed phone calls at limited times, and she didn’t want to miss a call from him.

  Mason had come to work with her this morning, of course. He’d taken on the role of self-appointed bodyguard. She had to admit his presence gave her an unexpected sense of security. Sleep had not eluded her last night as it had the night before, and a big part of the reason was the fact that she knew he was keeping watch right outside her front door. She’d felt guilty for sending him out to sleep in the car. No doubt her neighbors wouldn’t even notice, much less care. Though she would never admit it to Mason in a million years, her reason had nothing to do with appearances and everything to do with avoiding temptation. When he’d opened up to her yesterday about his feelings, a hard place inside her had softened. During the long hours of the night after a stressful, frightening day, she was feeling a bit vulnerable. No sense putting either of them in a situation that might lead to something they’d be sorry for. As her pastor was fond of saying, the best way to resist temptation was to avoid it.

  At the sound of the ringtone, Mason stopped his pacing and turned toward her.

  She flipped off the hair dryer and smiled an apology. “Excuse me, Mrs. Sanders.”

  “You go ahead.” The woman lifted a hand beneath the thin nylon apron and waved an approval. “I’m not in any hurry.”

  Karina grabbed her phone from the counter and glanced at it. An unfamiliar number appeared on the screen. She caught Mason’s eye, her eyebrows arched in a question, and answered the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Guerrero? This is Hector Navarro. Could you come down to the juvenile justice center at your earliest convenience?”

  “Is everything all right?”

  His reply didn’t answer the question. “There’s been a development in Alexander’s case. I spoke with him briefly a few minutes ago, and he became agitated.”

  Her grip tightened on the phone. “What’s happened? What did they say?”

  A pause. “They’ve decided to request that the
judge remand Alexander’s case to criminal court.”

  The words seemed to bounce off of her brain without registering. “I’m sorry. Remand to criminal court? What does that mean?”

  Hector’s voice softened. “They want to try Alexander for first-degree murder as an adult, and seek the maximum penalty.”

  The room around her careened sideways. Karina staggered backward until she was resting against her station, otherwise she might have fallen on the floor. “No. They can’t do that, can they? He’s only fourteen. And he didn’t kill anybody.”

  Fear made her voice shrill, and it pierced through the salon. From her station nearby Lana paused with her shears overtop her customer’s head and turned to look at her with arched

  eyebrows. Mrs. Sanders’s mouth dropped open. Mason hurried across the room and put a hand beneath her arm for support.

  “What’s happened?” he asked.

  She couldn’t answer, could only shake her head as she listened to Hector’s voice.

  “This is disturbing news, but it’s not completely unexpected. I tried to explain that to Alexander, but he became upset.”

  “I don’t blame him. I’m upset, too.” She found that she had shouted into the phone. “You might have expected this, but we sure didn’t.”

  “Ms. Guerrero, I understand that you’re upset. I’d like to discuss this with you in person. When can you get here?”

  Her brain felt fuzzy, stuffed full of cotton. She couldn’t think, couldn’t grasp this terrible news. Poor Alex must be frantic, and all by himself. Choking back a sob, she said, “I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  She disconnected the call with fingers gone numb, and the phone slipped from her grasp. It crashed to the floor and the battery skidded across the tile. This nightmare just got worse and worse. How much more could she handle without falling apart?

  In the next moment strong arms surrounded her. Mason crushed her to his chest and held her trembling body close.

  “I don’t know what’s happened, but whatever it is, you’re not in this alone. I’m here. We’ll deal with it together.”

  * * *

  Mason stood in a corner, his arms folded across his chest, and glared at the dispassionate public defender. Navarro sat in the same chair he’d occupied the previous day, the same spiral notebook open before him. At least he wasn’t writing everything down word for word today. But neither did he look directly into his client’s face. Or his client’s sister’s.

  Karina had scooted her chair as close to Alex’s as it would go, and sat with his arm clutched in both hands. Tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks, and every now and then she gave a little sniff. But at least there was no sign of the uncontrollable sobs that had wracked her body during the drive here. Alex, his expression as wooden as a log, stared at the tabletop in front of him and didn’t say a word.

  “The judge might not grant the request,” Navarro said. “It’s just the D.A.’s recommendation at this point.”

  “What do you think he’ll do?”

  The lawyer considered for a moment, then dipped his head. “I think he’ll agree with the D.A.”

  Because Mason was watching Alex’s face, he saw fear flare briefly in the teen’s eyes. A second later it was gone, and his expression became stoic once again.

  “But why?” Karina asked. “Why would the D.A. want to try Alex as an adult? He’s never been in any trouble.”

  “Youth gang crime has become a huge problem in this country, and Albuquerque is cracking down on gang violence. We’re going to see this happen more and more as the justice system sends a strong message to street gangs.”

  Alex did react then. His head jerked sideways and he leveled a glare on the attorney. “I’m not in any gang, and neither was José.”

  The man flinched at the force of his words, and even Karina’s eyes widened. Mason had seen this kid lie, and he would swear to anyone anywhere that Alex was telling the truth.

  To give Navarro credit, his voice inflection didn’t change a bit. He answered in the same calm, dispassionate tone he’d used before. “You’ve said that, and we will tell that to the judge. But the police report I read says you’ve been seen with acknowledged gang members, and the district attorney is sure to point that out to the judge. Between that and the drugs found in your system—”

  The kid exploded out of his chair. “I don’t do drugs, either. Why doesn’t anybody believe me?” He leaned forward and pounded a fist on the table. The sound seemed to bounce off the naked walls of the small room.

  Navarro did move then. He reared back in his seat and actually looked up at his client. With a big kid like Alex towering over him, an angry flush turning his face purple, Mason could hardly blame the puny little man for looking afraid.

  The door opened and the guard rushed into the room. “What’s going on in here? Counselor, is everything okay?”

  Karina stood, grabbed Alex’s arm and pulled him back to his chair.

  Navarro clicked his pen closed and shut the cover of the notebook. “Everything’s fine. I’m just about finished here.” He slid the notebook off the table and stored it in his briefcase. “A hearing’s been requested. As soon as I find out when we’re on the court’s docket, I’ll be in touch.”

  Briefcase in hand, he stood and headed for the door and the safety of the guard.

  “Wait!” Karina turned away from Alex, her hand out toward the lawyer. “When can Alex go home? Will the judge give him bail?”

  Navarro’s gaze flicked to where Alex stood, his hands still formed into fists. “I very much doubt it.” With that, he hurried through the doorway.

  The guard gestured toward Alex. “Come on, Guerrero. Time to go back.”

  They’d arrived only ten minutes ago. Mason took a step into the center of the room. “Could we have a little longer? Just a few more minutes, to calm everybody down.” He sent a stern glance toward Alex.

  The guard hesitated, then nodded. “You’ve got twenty left.” He closed the door behind him and returned to his desk.

  Mason approached the table and stood opposite Alex. He looked the kid in the face. “Now, suppose you tell us what’s really going on.”

  Karina drew herself up. “What do you mean? He’s told us the truth from the beginning.”

  Mason answered quietly, without releasing Alex’s gaze. “No, he hasn’t.”

  Alex remained silent for a moment. His gaze dropped to the table, and Mason saw his throat move as he swallowed. If he hadn’t been watching closely, he might have missed the single, tiny tear that shone in the corner of the teen’s eye but then was blinked away. Compassion stirred in Mason. Alex looked like a man, because of his size and the seriousness of his situation. But he was, after all, just a kid. And frightened.

  Finally, he looked back up and nodded. “Okay. But you can’t tell anyone what I say.” He looked at his sister. “Promise?”

  She glanced at Mason. “But if it will help your case—”

  “Promise! Otherwise I might as well go back to my room now, because I’m not saying anything.”

  Karina looked at Mason. Her face mirrored his questions, only with more emotions. He lifted his shoulders in a faint shrug. What option did they have? Alex was the only person who knew the whole story.

  After a few moments she nodded. “We promise.”

  The kid’s glance slid from Karina to Mason, and then he nodded. “Okay. You’d better sit down.”

  They each took a chair. Mason sat across the table, so he could watch Alex head-on. He placed his hands on the surface before him and entwined his fingers.

  “All right, Alex. Tell us what really happened last Friday night.”

  SIXTEEN

  “It started a few months ago,” Alex began, “back at the beginning of the summer. Me and Jos
é both had jobs, and we were making some money. Not much, but better than nothing.”

  If Mason had been a lousy attorney, like Navarro, he would have taken notes. But he’d never been one to rely on notes. He leaned back against the plastic chair and gave Alex his full attention.

  “Then one day Mr. Velesquez comes to me and asks do I want to make some extra money running an errand for him.” He sat quietly in his chair, facing forward, his hands invisible to Mason beneath the tabletop, but the muscles in his forearms moved, as though his fists were clenching and unclenching beneath the cover of the table. He shrugged. “Well, yeah, sure. I’m all about earning money. So he asks me to take this package over to the Casa del Sol restaurant.”

  Karina interrupted. “The one where José worked?”

  Alex cast a guilty glance sideways, and then nodded. Mason fixed Karina with a stern gaze and tried to send a private message to her. Don’t talk or you might intimidate him. Let him do the talking. She must have gotten the message, because her lips snapped shut.

  “It was a big package, kinda heavy. Woulda been a lot easier for him to drive it over in his van, but he said he couldn’t leave the store for a while, and the restaurant needed it. There’s eight blocks between the Superette and the restaurant, and by the time I got there, my arms felt like somebody had set them on fire.” His right hand massaged his left shoulder in an unconscious gesture.

  “Did you know what was in the package?” Mason asked.

  Alex shook his head. “Mr. Velesquez told me not to look, so I didn’t. I didn’t see what was in it, because it was all wrapped up.” His gaze dropped to the table, embarrassed. “Yeah, I know. It sounds pretty stupid now. And I admit I worried if it might be something illegal, like maybe drugs or something. But it was so heavy I didn’t think so. I figured it must be some sort of grocery thing, you know?”

  From the corner of his eye Mason saw Karina sitting on the edge of her chair, her body rigid. He ignored her and nodded at Alex. “Go on.”

 

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