Thurston started to tell her the town didn’t get it anyway, then realized she was joking. He chuckled. “Okay, I’ll keep it under control. Listen, we’ve got some cars in impound that we’ve taken from folks who’ve gone away for a stretch in county lock-up. I’ll see if I can let you use one until they find yours.”
“Thanks, Kevin. I appreciate that, and I’ll take it for a few days, but I’m going to buy a new one. Even if they find the one Hector and I were driving, I couldn’t ever look at it again, without remembering...” A violent shiver took her.
“Oh, and Wanda, we, uh. Sorry. We searched your house. It may be a bit of a mess.”
“I heard. Dylan called from the park on his lunch hour. He and Alex were going to clean it up. It should be finished by the time we get there.”
“Those two are something else, aren’t they?”
“They are. They’ve got some things to work out, but they’re solid, and lucky. Sometimes people don’t find their soulmates until they’re much, much older,” she said, staring into the distance as if she were seeing herself as a young girl. Maybe she was.
“Different ethnic backgrounds, different economic backgrounds. I don’t know, can it work?” Thurston asked.
“The really important things, they have in common,” she said. “Both of them lost a parent before they were even in school, and neither remembers that parent, not really. Both of them have a strong sense of duty to the family they have left. It’s enough to build on.”
“I hope you’re right,” he said.
SIXTY-SIX
Ten Days Later: Thanksgiving Day, 11:00 a.m.
Alex moved in a smooth ballet around Nana in the kitchen as they prepared the Thanksgiving meal for later in the day. It was both nostalgic and familiar for her. She didn’t remember much about her life before her mother disappeared, so her earliest memories were of helping Nana in the kitchen after Nana had moved in to help her dad. Nana had taught her to cook and had shaped her image of herself as a smart, independent person, even before she was old enough to even think of being on her own.
Nana often referred to herself as an ‘old hippie’, though she wasn’t really old. At sixty-five, she was still a vital and surprisingly attractive woman. Alex didn’t know if she’d ever had a love interest after her grandfather had been killed when her dad was still a boy.
They banished Sophia to keep from running her over in the modest kitchen, so she was in the living room entertaining Aunt Jess with Diego’s giggles. Alex’s dad had fled the house of women, saying he’d be back when Dylan got there. He jokingly asked Diego if he wanted to go too. Alex thought he might be over at Jen’s trying again to persuade her to join them for the feast.
The most surprising guests were Kevin Thurston and Wanda Lopez, who seemed to have come to a truce. Wanda agreed to come if she could bring Kevin, and how could anyone have denied her, since she was facing her first Thanksgiving in nearly half a century without Hector? For her sake, Alex would be civil to Kevin. At least he’d apologized to Dylan.
Dylan’s invitation was of long-standing, and despite their fight, he’d called to ask if he was still invited. She desperately wanted to mend their friendship. She’d been feeling like she’d lost an arm since a week ago Monday. Of course he was still invited, though she was a little nervous about having him there, since most of the people around the table thought of them as a couple.
Nana had been going on all morning about how she wanted to get to know him better. Alex didn’t have the heart to tell her it would be a waste of her time. Even though she was willing to be friends, there was very little chance they’d spend their lives together, now. She choked back a sob. Why couldn’t they have found each other again when everything wasn’t so complicated?
Nana looked at her sharply, and Alex hastily composed her face. It would be a disaster if she broke down in the middle of this dinner party.
“I’ll go set the table, okay, Nana? You’ve got everything under control in here, right?”
“Everything for the dinner, yes,” Nana said, with dark portent. Alex fled.
An hour later, Wanda and Kevin arrived. He looked determined to be pleasant, no matter what. The resulting smile was actually a little creepy. Alex hugged Wanda and introduced her to Sophia and the baby.
“Is this my nephew?” Wanda asked.
Alex and Sophia looked at each other, and Alex shrugged. “If you want him to be,” Sophia said, handing him over. Wanda’s face was immediately wreathed in smiles as she cuddled Diego. “There is nothing cuter than an O’odham baby,” she announced.
Alex had to agree. That little round face, the shock of black hair, and the black button eyes made him look like a doll. She loved to kiss his cheeks. Wanda was doing it now. That kid was going to have his cheeks eroded away with enthusiastic kisses if they weren’t careful.
Her dad arrived next, grinning as if he had a secret, and then Jen popped through the door behind him. “Jen!” Alex cried. “I’m so glad you finally agreed to come!”
“I just didn’t want to intrude on a family meal,” Jen said. “Paul persuaded me that other friends would be here, too.”
Alex looked at her dad, whose eyes were firmly glued to Jen’s face. Oh, my gosh! He’s finally caved! She couldn’t help but give her biggest smile to her dad, who flushed, just like she knew she did when someone embarrassed her.
“Alex, please come and help me put it on the table,” Nana called.
Everyone was there but Dylan. Alex was too busy to worry about it, but by the time Nana had called her dad to carry the turkey in, she was beginning to think he wasn’t going to show. She began wheeling Jess into the dining room, telling everyone to follow her. Just as she settled her aunt at the foot of the table opposite her dad, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it. Go ahead, I’ll be right back,” she said.
Alex took a minute to smooth her hair before she answered the door. The doorbell rang again; she was taking too long. She hesitated only slightly, then firmly grasped the knob and opened the door. Dylan stood outside, looking a bit embarrassed.
“I hope it’s okay,” he said. His brothers stood on either side of him. As soon as they saw her, they ran to her for hugs. Though she accompanied Dylan to Tucson when he went to see them, she always stayed in the hotel until he rejoined her after his visits with them. She hadn’t seen them in over three months, because of a suggestion their foster family gave Dylan not to let them become attached to her unless they were permanently together. As she stooped to meet them, her arms wide, it occurred to her that it was a little too late for that.
SIXTY-SEVEN
Dylan watched his little brothers rush into Alex’s arms and smiled. They loved her from the moment he reintroduced them, back before the foster parents had warned him against letting them get attached. It was already too late, and he should have known it. He’d seen how they interacted with her that first time.
He’d hurt her by shutting her out, even though she claimed to understand. And he’d hurt Juan and Davi by not letting them see her again. Her deep blue eyes sought his, while at the same time she fought not to be bowled over by the enthusiastic hugs she was getting from the boys. She didn’t ask, but she deserved an explanation.
“I got a call around four this morning. The foster family had an emergency and needed to fly out as soon as possible. Because of the holiday, their DCS caseworker thought maybe I’d like to take them for the weekend. How could I say no?” He shrugged his shoulders, with a rueful expression.
How indeed? But what in the world was he going to with them tonight, and tomorrow, when he had to work? “I just got back to town with them. Ange had Mom looking the best she could, but I can’t leave them there, and I knew you were expecting me... I guess I should have called you first.”
“No, it’s okay. Just a little confusing; thanks for clearing that up. Come in! There’s plenty, and we’re just sitting down.”
“Thanks, Lexi. You’re awesome.” He herded the
little boys ahead of him, standing aside while she bustled around to make room at the. Dylan couldn’t help but try to assess the thoughts of the people around the table as they were confronted by this unexpected turn of events.
Paul looked amused, if Dylan was reading it correctly. The aunt in the wheelchair was gazing fondly at the boys. She must like children. Dylan nodded at Jen Mackey, who smiled back at him. Kevin Thurston was watching the others too, and Tia Wanda was smiling at him and nodding her head.
He wasn’t sure what to make of the older woman with flaming red hair and Alex’s blue eyes. It had to be her grandmother. Nana, Alex called her. She was beaming at everyone around the table as if she’d pulled off this surprise all by herself.
Once everyone was seated, Dylan had his hands full helping the boys serve their plates, so the conversation ebbed and flowed around him without catching his attention. Then he heard Thurston say Jimmy’s name and began to pay attention.
“Sure would be nice if he’d come back and help us locate this Ernesto,” Kevin was saying. What were they talking about? Dylan ate mechanically, paying more attention to the conversation, to try to catch up.
“I understand why you want that, Kevin, and lord knows I want Hector’s killer caught, but I don’t want Jimmy back here. Not with the cartel still looking for him.”
“Can I help?” Dylan asked. He wasn’t going to go looking for Ernesto by himself, not after the reprimand he’d received from his supervisor. But, if there was anything he could do, he couldn’t help offering.
“Thanks, Dylan, but I don’t think any help you could give us would be worth the danger it would put you in,” answered Kevin. It was a far cry from the way he would have spoken before. Dylan appreciated having an explanation instead of a brusque ‘no’. He would respect that. Unless he literally tripped over Ernesto, he’d stay out of the way.
“So, for all intents and purposes, it’s over, right?” Alex scanned the table for agreement. “Because I’d like to write the story, now, at least for my blog.”
This got a reaction. In fact, the table erupted. Paul, Kevin, and Tia Wanda were opposed. Volubly so. Dylan was too, but didn’t feel it was his place after the argument they had. Nana was banging her spoon on her wineglass in an attempt to get the group’s attention, while saying she thought Alex ought to follow her own conscience in the matter.
Alex sat calm in the center of the storm, and when it died down, announced that she was going to do it and no one could stop her. Dylan was proud of her and worried at the same time. He couldn’t prove it, but he had a feeling her kidnapping had been in response to the blog. Now that she was on the cartel’s radar, she was in danger every time she mentioned the cartel on it.
The last thing he wanted to do, was argue about it on a holiday that was supposed to be about thankfulness. He would be thankful if they could simply remain friends. But for that to happen, he needed to let her have some space and do what she felt she needed to do.
After dinner, Kevin took Wanda home, and Paul left with Jen. Except for Alex, Dylan, and the kids, everyone was napping after the heavy meal. Dylan knew he should excuse himself and go home, but she was playing a board game with the kids. What she was doing with a game of Chutes and Ladders at her age was beyond him, but it was entertaining his brothers.
He sat on the couch, staring in their direction but thinking about something else. He needed a place for the boys to sleep tonight, and he hadn’t yet arranged for an apartment. It looked like a motel was going to be their best bet, and he needed to stop procrastinating and call the local ones to see if there were any vacancies.
He also needed to arrange for babysitting tomorrow, but he thought that may be easier. Maybe Sophia would do it, if the Wards didn’t mind the boys being here at their house. In fact, she’d be perfect as a live-in nanny, if he could find appropriate living quarters and she decided not to go to Alaska.
What the town would say about it was something else. He wasn’t sure if he could handle that, especially if it made the situation with Alex any worse. Something else he would need to discuss with her, if he could only figure out a way to bring it up without seeming to assume anything. Assumptions always got him in trouble.
SIXTY-EIGHT
Jimmy fumed as he waited for the plane to arrive. He told Ernesto not to come here, and yet he was on the way. All because Jimmy had mixed up the phones when he found out about Hector, and the Gilas helped Ernesto trace the number. Ernesto was bringing pressure on them; they needed to get him out of town.
Now the little screw-up was going to be his problem. Well, if he got in the way, Jimmy knew what to do about it. Relative or no relative, he’d have to go. Then he wouldn’t be anyone’s problem.
At last, the plane landed. Jimmy waited beyond the security lines, watching for Ernesto. When he spotted him, Jimmy’s eyes widened. Shit, this...
Jimmy turned to run. Pandemonium broke out in the airport as shots rang out. Ernesto died first, the Kings enforcer’s bullet finding him from just a couple of yards behind. The shooter looked up to find the running figure of Jimmy Chaves weaving around other people in the airport and fired three shots in quick succession.
The first took down a security guard, who was rushing past Jimmy, toward the shooter. The second and third found Jimmy. The shooter threw the weapon under the nearest bench and joined the milling crowd, finally slipping into the men’s room.
He went into a stall, stepped up on the seat and kicked off his deck shoes, an inappropriate piece of attire that he hoped no one had noticed. Placing them on the tank, the shooter then pulled off the outer layer of his clothing, leaving a second layer intact, then put his shoes back on. His last task was to remove the long shaggy wig and place it on top of the clothing he’d discarded. Then he left the men’s room and joined the crowd. By evening, he was back at home in San Diego, enjoying a late Thanksgiving dinner with his family.
SIXTY-NINE
Friday, 5:00 p.m.
Kevin Thurston received a phone call from the tribal police on Friday afternoon. Jimmy Chaves and his cousin Ernesto Chaves had been identified as the victims in the Anchorage airport shooting that horrified the nation in the late hours of Thanksgiving Day. The case, or cases, if you didn’t consider them all connected, were now closed.
It was time to make amends with Alex Ward, as he’d done with Wanda Lopez and Dylan Chaves. He meant to speak to her yesterday, but the day turned out to be so crazy that he put it off. Now he’d have to hunt her down. She had already left the office for the day, by the time he got the call and called Wanda to inform her. Paul had given Thurston Alex’s cell phone number, but warned him that they both might be in big trouble if he used it, so he was saving it for a last resort. Instead, he cruised by the house, but didn’t find her car there.
Evening was rapidly approaching when he spotted her car and Dylan’s pickup at The Rattler. He considered waiting, so he wouldn’t get into the whole underage thing, but his cruiser had different ideas. As if of its own accord, it turned into the parking lot. Well, he’d poke his head inside and see what was going on.
A few patrons looked up when the door opened, and one or two did a double-take to see the sheriff in the doorway. Thurston made an effort to relax and look non-threatening, as he glanced around looking for Alex.
He spotted her at a pinball machine, with Dylan beside her and, of all things, his brothers at his side. When did this place turn into a family destination? Thurston couldn’t see a drink near her that might be beer or a cocktail, so he walked over, winking at Dylan and clearing his throat right behind Alex.
To his amusement, she shrieked and bumped the machine, causing a tilt. Dylan said, “Uh-oh, now you’re in trouble.”
Alex whirled on him, ready to unleash her temper. She was stopped cold by the sight of the deputy, rather than Dylan. She gulped. “Oh, hi Kevin. You startled me.”
“I see that,” he answered, smiling. Dylan was doing his best to keep a straight face in Thurston’s side
vision. What was so funny?
“I’m glad you’re here, Dylan, although this may not be the best place to give you my news. Would you guys mind coming outside for a minute?” Thurston took in her wary expression and added, “No one’s in trouble. It’s just news, I promise.”
She looked at Dylan and shrugged. He said, “Okay.” The two of them followed him outside, with the little boys trailing. Thurston leaned against his department SUV and crossed his arms. “Dylan, I’m sorry to have to bring you this news, but I’m afraid your cousins have both been killed up in Anchorage.”
Dylan’s face drained of color, leaving him a peculiar shade of gray. Alex simply stared, her mouth partly open. “How?” Dylan asked.
“Did you guys see that story, about the shooting at...?”
“The airport!” Alex cried. “The two guys that were shot at the airport! One had just gotten off a plane from Tucson... oh, no.”
“You’re right. It looks as though one cartel or the other followed Ernesto, who must have been trying to reach Jimmy, either to take shelter with him or kill him. We’ll never know, now. But since Jimmy was at the airport to meet him, chances are it was the former.
“Anyway, Dylan, all the cases are closed now, and Alex, you can write your story. If you need anything from me to help with that, don’t hesitate to ask. I figure you’ve earned your journalism stripes. I also wanted to apologize for being a dick all this time. Oops, sorry,” he added as he noticed the boys between the young couple.
“Wow,” Dylan said, finally. “I thought he’d be safe up there. How the hell did Ernesto find him?”
“Probably Jimmy contacted him. Not sure. They’re still investigating. The shooter just melted into thin air according to witnesses.”
“Kevin, thank you for telling us, and thanks for the apology,” Alex said. “I hope we can work together without letting the past get in our way from now on.”
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