A Girl Apart

by Russell Blake

  He held the cell to his ear, listening intently, and Leah noted that his eyes were moist when he passed it back to her. Their breakfast arrived, and he swallowed hard and stared through the window at the street for a long moment. When he returned his attention to Leah, she could see pain in his expression.

  “I’m sorry. That’s the first time I’ve heard his voice in…in forever,” he said.

  Neither of them had to say it would also be the last.

  They picked at their eggs, and Uriel asked her about the story she was working on. She told him the general gist of it and then resumed probing him to see if he knew anything of value.

  “You heard your father’s message. When I spoke to him, he told me he had a file he wanted me to see. That he had the story of a lifetime, and he wanted me to break it because of my work on the first Juárez murder feature.”

  “A file?”

  She nodded. “Do you have any idea what could be in it or where it might be?”

  He shook his head. “No. I mean, I don’t live here. I live in Guadalajara. But if he had something, it might be at his house. That would be the natural place he’d keep something sensitive, I would think.”

  She frowned. “What about safe deposit boxes? Do you know if he had one here?”

  “No. They don’t allow them anymore in Mexico. Part of the government crackdown on money laundering.”

  “Have you been to his house yet?” she asked.

  “No.” Uriel glanced at his watch. “I figured I’d wait until after the will was read today. That’s my next meeting after this one.”

  “And you have no idea what could be in this file?”

  He sighed and set down his fork. “I presume it must be connected to your investigation, Leah. Isn’t that the likeliest? But the specific content? No idea.”

  “Do you think his death might be connected?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. The police are being tight-lipped about the case. I spoke with the lead investigator, and he spent more time questioning me than he did giving me any information. I don’t have a lot of faith in them solving the case, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m sorry if this is difficult for you to talk about, Uriel, but I have to ask. I read in the paper about the shooting. Do you have any additional details?”

  “Not really. As I told the police, I was halfway across the country when it happened. It could have been a matter of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or a case of mistaken identity, or maybe he got caught in the crossfire between two gangs. I told them about the message he left for me, but the investigator blew it off.”

  “That’s odd,” Leah said. “The timing’s suspicious. I mean, he tells me he’s got a sensitive file he can’t talk about on the phone, and then gets shot right before he’s supposed to show it to me. You have to admit that would imply they could be connected.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But frankly, without knowing what was in the file, it’s all speculation.”

  “Your father was a captain on the force here?”

  “That’s right. With the municipal police, not the Federales. Worked his way up from being a detective. Did it the hard way, from what I’ve heard from my mother.”

  “Was she close to him?”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s…complicated. They were never married. She was, let us say, the other woman.”

  Leah’s eyes widened. “Oh, I…”

  “It is not uncommon in Mexico to have two or more families. It isn’t talked about, but it’s treated as an acceptable dirty secret as long as the man honors his obligations to everyone. Sadly, that isn’t always the case, and the children suffer.”

  “That’s why you weren’t close?”

  “It’s one of the reasons.”

  Leah changed the subject. “You mentioned that your mother gave you this message to contact me. Did he see her before he died?”

  “No. He called her. She lives in the U.S. now. Has since I left Juárez to go to university. I was actually born there, in El Paso, but we moved back to Juárez when I was seven, and she stayed until I was eighteen.”

  “Where in the States does she live?”

  “Las Cruces, New Mexico.”

  “Oh, so not that far.”

  He took a long sip of his coffee. “Far enough. A world away.” Uriel motioned to the waiter for the bill. “Leah, did my father give you any indication what he wanted to discuss in your meeting? He left the message to contact you, so he obviously felt you were central to whatever it was he planned to give you, and that there was a risk he might be killed.”

  “I’ve told you everything we discussed. There’s nothing else.”

  Uriel’s face fell. “Then our meeting was a waste of time for both of us.”

  Leah looked at him thoughtfully. “Maybe not. You mentioned he had a home here. He was shot nearby?”

  “That’s right. Almost in his front yard.”

  “Would it be too much of an imposition if I asked to see the house? You said that would be the natural place for him to have the file, and I agree. He obviously wanted me to have it – to break the story, he said. It might give us a lead as to who murdered him.”

  Uriel nodded slowly. “I have no problem looking around for it. The police sure aren’t going to. They don’t strike me as taking this particularly seriously.”

  “When can we meet to go through the house?”

  “If you have time, after the will reading? That shouldn’t take more than half an hour, unless you prefer to return later.”

  “I’m already here. Might as well just wait. Want me to meet you somewhere?”

  The waiter arrived with the bill, and Uriel scrawled a signature and rose. “I have no problem with you coming to my attorney’s office for the reading. We can go from there – it’s not all that far from where he lived.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t mean to intrude.”

  “It’s no imposition. Anything that might identify the killer is important. I should have thought of it earlier.”

  “It’s more the job of the police, but you don’t seem to have a high opinion of them…”

  “I don’t trust them one bit. When I met with the inspector handling the case, he didn’t leave a good impression.”

  “Then lead the way to the attorney’s, and then we can see what we find at the house.”

  Chapter 12

  When they arrived at the law offices, Uriel’s sister was already there, as was Pedro, his father’s ex-partner. Uriel’s surprise at seeing the retired cop there was obvious, because Pedro offered an explanation as they shook hands.

  “The attorney contacted me. Apparently your father included me in the will.”

  Uriel introduced Leah simply as a friend, and nobody questioned it, although Ana Maria appraised her openly, making Leah feel acutely aware of how underdressed she was for the odd turn of the day’s events. Ana Maria was wearing black slacks and a black silk blouse whose high collar concealed all but the top of a tattoo on the side of her neck. Pedro looked like a bear stuffed into a sports jacket, the seams of which strained to contain his bulk, and wore a dress shirt and tie. Leah, on the other hand, had on comfortable jeans and a light cotton knit top that would have been more appropriate for a matinee movie screening.

  The receptionist, a striking brunette with bee-stung lips and a severe bun, directed them to seats around a coffee table emblazoned with the law firm’s name, Arturo Arellano and Associates, and murmured into a handset before returning to tapping at her keyboard. Uriel picked up a magazine and Leah checked her messages on her cell while they waited. Five minutes later a short, wiry man in an open collar dress shirt and gray slacks entered the lobby from a door by the side of the reception desk, a somber expression in place.

  “Welcome, welcome. Thank you for coming. You must be Ana Maria. And you must be Uriel. Which makes you Pedro, no?” he said, greeting the three of them and shaking hands. He glanced at Leah and then to Uriel. “And this is…?”

>   “Leah,” Uriel said. “A friend.”

  “Ah, good. Very well, then. I’m Arturo Arellano. Make yourself comfortable out here, Leah. This shouldn’t take too long,” Arellano said.

  Leah took the not-so-subtle hint and smiled. Uriel followed the attorney through the door, followed by his sister and Pedro, leaving her to her thoughts.

  Arellano’s conference room featured a parota wood table with seating for twelve. He waited until everyone was comfortable and then sat at the head of the table, a sheaf of papers in front of him.

  “Can I get anyone something to drink? Coffee? Water? Soda?” he asked.

  They shook their heads, and he cleared his throat. “As you know, we are gathered here to read the last will and testament of León Rodrigo Sánchez, notarized on the seventh of April of last year, prepared by my office. Señor Sánchez was of sound mind and body, and the following represents his final wishes.” He paused. “Oh, I should tell you up front that the police subpoenaed the will yesterday evening, so I had to provide them a copy.”

  Uriel looked taken aback. “They did? What business is it of theirs?”

  Arellano appeared pained. “I have no idea. But the demand was duly signed by a judge, so I had to comply.”

  “Isn’t that unusual?” Ana Maria asked.

  Arellano looked down at the papers. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a client murdered. Maybe Pedro knows?”

  Pedro’s brow creased. “Depends on the investigator. They might think it’s tied to the killing or want to rule something out. The courts give the police broad latitude in a violent death situation. More than likely just an overzealous detective trying to make sure all bases are covered.”

  “All right, then,” Arellano said. “Let’s look to the contents of the will.”

  Uriel watched the attorney expectantly. His sister shifted in her seat, and Uriel noticed how puffy her eyes were from crying and lack of sleep.

  “First, the insurance,” Arellano continued. “Señor Sánchez had a policy for five million pesos, which he directed to be split evenly between you, Uriel, and you, Ana Maria.”

  Ana Maria gasped at the amount, which was a quarter million dollars – a small fortune by Mexican standards. Uriel sat impassively, displaying not a hint of emotion.

  “Additionally, there is the insurance from the police department, which amounts to another million pesos, also to be split evenly.” Arellano paused. “Are there any questions so far?”

  Ana Maria nodded. “When does the insurance pay out? How long will it take?”

  “We should have it by the end of next week. They are usually good with these things.” Arellano turned over the top paper and set it aside, and then turned to the next sheet. “Now to the property. Señor Sánchez bequeathed his home, located at number 87 Calle Lorena, to both Uriel and Ana Maria, to dispose of how you please. His one request is that you keep it in the family if at all possible, for use by your offspring, should you have any. If you decide to liquidate it, the proceeds are to be split evenly.”

  Arellano looked to Pedro. “Now, Pedro Cruz. Señor Sánchez bequeathed his 1967 Chevrolet Camaro to you. The vehicle is owned free and clear by the estate, and the title will be transferred into your name immediately.”

  Pedro smiled. “He remembered. I always loved that car. Four bolt main, Chevy small block, manual transmission. Perfect shape, all original. Your father was a saint.”

  “His Toyota Tacoma he leaves to you, Uriel,” Arellano continued. “And his Honda CRV, to you, Ana Maria. All are free and clear. Any balances in his bank accounts, likewise, are to be split after all outstanding bills are paid.”

  Ana Maria and Uriel exchanged a glance. Their father had been more than generous. Unexpectedly so. Although with Ana Maria’s mother deceased and Uriel’s estranged, there really wasn’t anyone else to leave his worldly possessions to.

  “And now for the final part of the will. Your father bequeathed the contents of a safe deposit box located across the border, in New Mexico. Uriel, I know that you’re a dual national of both Mexico and the U.S., but Ana Maria, you’re not. Because of the difficulty of you making it to the States, with your permission, I’ll give Uriel the key to the box, the contents of which should be shared between you. Is that acceptable?”

  Ana Maria shrugged. “Sure.”

  “Very well. I have here the information of the bank. The keys to the box and the house are in my office, along with car keys for the vehicles.” He sat back. “With your permission, I’ll go retrieve them. But before I do, are there any questions or concerns? Now is the time to raise them.”

  Uriel looked to Ana Maria, who shook her head. Uriel did the same, and Arellano nodded.

  “Again, my deepest sympathies for your loss. Your father was a good man, and he loved you both very much.”

  “You knew him well?” Uriel asked.

  “I handled his legal affairs for over twenty years, so yes, you could say that.”

  “Did he ever mention a file he needed set aside for safekeeping?”

  Arellano looked puzzled. “A file? What kind of file?”

  “I don’t know. Police matter of some sort.”

  Arellano scowled. “No, I’m afraid not. I don’t have anything like that. I’m sorry.”

  Uriel nodded. “I figured it was a long shot.”

  Arellano rose and left the room. Ana Maria leaned into Uriel. “What was that all about?”

  “Dad passed me a message about a file that had some damaging information. He wasn’t specific about what it was or where it is.”

  “He never said anything to me about it.”

  Pedro frowned. “Can you narrow it down? Remember, I used to work with him.”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Uriel said as Arellano returned with a small box filled with keys.

  After he’d distributed them and everyone had signed the requisite paperwork, Ana Maria smiled sadly as she stood. “Well, brother, looks like we’re set financially. I just wish Dad was still alive. I’d gladly trade it all for him to still be with us.”

  Uriel gave her a black look. “Somebody robbed us of that choice.”

  Arellano shook hands with them and then excused himself and left with the documents. Ana Maria looked to her brother. “What now?”

  “I’m going to head over to the house,” Uriel said. “You want to come with us?”

  “Us?”

  “Leah’s going to help me look for the file.”

  “Who is she, Uriel?” Pedro asked. “I mean, besides being a friend.”

  “A reporter for an American paper. She’s working on an exposé about the disappearances here.”

  Ana Maria frowned. “You think Dad’s murder had to do with them?”

  “That’s our best guess.”

  Pedro glanced at Uriel and then his watch. “I have to use the restroom. Meet you over at the house so I can pick up my new car?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Pedro went in search of a bathroom, and Uriel led Ana Maria back out to the lobby. Leah looked up from her cell and got to her feet. “All done?” she asked.

  “Yes. I have the keys to the house.”

  “Great. So that’s the next stop?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The siblings walked down the stairs to the ground level and pushed through the front doors, trailed by Leah, who nearly ran into Uriel’s back when he stopped abruptly.

  Inspector Montalbán stood facing them on the sidewalk, a pair of uniformed officers on either side of him, an ugly expression twisting his features.

  “What do you want?” Uriel demanded.

  “Ana Maria Sánchez, I am hereby placing you under arrest for the murder of your father,” Montalbán intoned. Uriel’s jaw dropped and Ana Maria gasped.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Uriel growled.

  “Your sister is the prime suspect in our investigation. It isn’t subject to debate. She had the connections to have your father
killed, and she had the motive. And no alibi,” Montalbán said. He looked to one of the cops. “Cuff her.”

  “This is outrageous,” Uriel stammered. Ana Maria was staring at the inspector with her mouth open, the blood drained from her face.

  The officer stepped forward as a small crowd began to form to watch the unfolding drama. Ana Maria struggled as he twisted her arm behind her back and clasped a handcuff on her wrist. Leah watched the arrest in disbelief while Uriel fought to contain his rage.

  “I can’t believe you’d stoop this low, Montalbán. What is it – are you working for the killers? Did they pay you off or something?” Uriel hissed.

  Montalbán gave him a tight smile. “You’re not in the clear, Señor Sánchez, so I’d keep your mouth shut if I were you. You also had a financial reason to see your estranged father shed his mortal coil. Frankly, anyone who would kill their parents for money doesn’t deserve anyone’s pity. I just wish we had the death penalty for cases like this.”

  “Jesus God, you really are insane. I wasn’t within a thousand kilometers of here, you idiot.” Uriel took a deep breath. “I’ll have an attorney going after you personally for this. It’s a gross abuse of power and miscarriage of justice.”

  Montalbán waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever. I’m just doing my job. Your sister is gang related. She directly benefits from your father’s death. This isn’t rocket science.”

  Leah stepped forward, her notebook out. “What’s your full name and rank?” she asked.

  Montalbán’s eyes narrowed. “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m a journalist. I’m covering this story.”

  “A journalist?” Montalbán asked, switching to English. “From what organization? Or are you one of those web idiots who thinks having an iPhone makes them a reporter?”

  “I work for the El Paso Examiner. What’s your name and rank? My readers will be fascinated by Mexican justice, especially the reaction of the police when a former captain is gunned down in broad daylight.”