Leah’s mouth hung open as the pieces clicked into place. “Then the reporter…”
Moore nodded. “Is a professional liar who probably got paid off to feed you this nonsense. He can always claim he didn’t. Do you have any proof it was him? Any calls? Emails? Witnesses?” he asked.
“I left a message for him at his paper.”
“Did he call you from there or from a cell?”
Leah thought back, and when she answered, her voice was tiny. “I think it was a cell.”
“Which is in the Rio Grande by now. So you have no proof he ever spoke to you.”
“I have the envelope. It might have fingerprints on it.”
“Uh-huh. Want to bet none are his?”
“I spoke to some of the people at El Matador. They corroborated his story.”
Talbert shook his head. “People the reporter directed you to, no doubt.”
Moore stood and held out his hand for the passport. “You want to make a copy of the relevant pages and stamps, or are we done here?”
Leah went through the motions of checking the stamps and then rose and took it to Moore. He slid it back into his pocket and rocked back on his heels. “Don’t feel too bad. I’m used to their dirty tricks. It wasn’t anything personal. They know I go to Juárez for R&R, and they used an opportunity to try to tar and feather me. It happens. It didn’t get far enough for me to be anything but mad at them, but that’s not your problem. I can return the favor, in my own time, and they’ll wish they’d left well enough alone. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said, and then walked to the door. “Feel free to call if you have any other questions, or if someone tells you I have my ex’s head in my trunk or something. Ridley’s got my number.”
Leah held the edge of the table for balance, feeling about two inches tall. Talbert stood and faced her.
“He’s really not a bad guy, Leah.”
“You went behind my back,” she said, her voice small.
“I wanted to save you more unproductive effort chasing down a road that leads nowhere. I asked the questions you should have, and it quickly became obvious that there was nothing to your story. Does he like to go to Juárez and misbehave occasionally? Sure. No law against that. But is he a serial killer responsible for the world’s ills? Not a chance.” Talbert grunted. “Maybe you should take some time off. A few days might do you good. Put the slip in my box and I’ll sign it.” He shook his head. “Get your head together. You’re better than this.”
He left, taking the life from the room with him.
Leah collapsed into the nearest chair and stared into space, her mind reeling at how easily the hotshot big-leagues New York reporter had been played by supposed rank amateurs in a dust bowl on the wrong side of the tracks. Her disgust at the situation was almost as great as that in herself.
Chapter 31
Ciudad Juárez, Mexico
Uriel was waiting for Leah when she arrived from the pedestrian bridge. One look at her face and his shoulders sagged – she looked as distraught as she’d sounded when she’d called and told him she needed to talk to him that afternoon.
He nodded in greeting. “That bad?”
“If I didn’t remember how I felt after the margaritas, I’d say I want a triple.”
“Maybe some coffee instead?”
“Sure.”
They walked slowly along the street. The holiday crowd was thin in the late afternoon and the temperature cooler from the cloud cover, but stickier. Uriel guided her to a café, and they sat by the window while the barista made their drinks. Leah set her phone on the table and explained what had gone wrong.
“Are you sure he was telling the truth?” Uriel asked when she was done.
She sighed. “Oh, yeah. He was. The passport bore it out. And when I checked the yearbooks online, so did they. I was trying to shoehorn a theory into the facts rather than checking them thoroughly and letting them tell me what had happened. The worst part is I know better.” She fell silent, and her final words were barely more than a whisper. “I know better.”
The coffee arrived and she sipped at her cup absently.
“So where does that leave us?” he asked.
“Did you call Pedro?” Leah had requested that Uriel ask Pedro if he could track down Saldaño and shake out of him who had paid him to mislead her.
“Yes. He said he would do it and call us when he has answers.”
“I just can’t help but think that there may be more to it than Moore believes. Not only did they get me focused on him, but they completely took me off looking at the bureaucracy and the role of the bigwigs in the murders. He thought they picked me because of the article I wrote. But what if that’s not it? What if it’s because of the digging I’ve been doing? I’ve called more than a few officials. The head of the Federales – no response. Chief of the local police, same thing. And the mayor practically threw me out of the country club.”
Uriel nodded. “Makes sense that someone might have decided they could kill two birds with one stone.”
“Right. It’s a win for them either way. The paper publishes a bogus story, I’m dead in the water, and meanwhile I’m off the case. And if it doesn’t publish, I’m chasing my own tail or, worse, discredited, which isn’t far from the truth. Moore thought it was all about him. What if that’s only partially true?”
“Devious,” Uriel agreed.
“You believe Pedro can pull it off?”
Uriel smiled. “Pedro understands the basics. He was confident he’d be able to find the reporter.” Uriel regarded Leah with tired eyes. “Mexico is not like the U.S. Here, the police know who the bad guys are, who the corrupted are, and prey on them. There are laws that are supposed to protect all equally, but they’re ignored by both the police and the criminals. If a criminal doesn’t pay off the police, they’re likely to take him for a one-way ride, and his remains will be found by the vultures. So, yes, I think he can find anyone he wants within minutes, with the right calls.”
“I hope so.”
“We’ll soon know for sure.”
They sat in silence, watching customers come and go. Leah finished her drink and pushed her cup away. “How are things going with your PI?”
“He likes getting paid. We’ve established that. But he’s a bit slow on the results. He keeps promising more names, but so far, nothing. That’s not unexpected. Often the way things work here.”
“You got a bad feeling from the mother?”
“Not bad so much as that she was hiding something. She was guarded in her answers. Hard to describe, exactly.”
She nodded. “And your sister? Any luck there?”
“No. We waited hours, but Ortiz came up dry again.”
“Are you having second thoughts about him?”
Uriel’s brows knit. “I don’t know what to think, Leah. He comes recommended, but he isn’t getting results. All I can hope is that he’s better with the judge and working the system than he has been at bribing the jailers so far.”
“Just your luck you got the only honest attorney in town, huh?”
That brought a smile. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it. But my frustration is obviously that none of this is getting us any closer to finding the file, and without that, we have nothing that might get my sister off.”
“Assuming there’s anything that would, Uriel. I wouldn’t put all my chips on that,” Leah cautioned.
They were interrupted by Uriel’s phone chiming from his shirt pocket. He answered and had a hurried conversation, his face growing more drawn as it continued. When he hung up, he looked troubled.
“What is it?” Leah asked.
“Pedro found your reporter and leaned on him.”
“And?”
“He’s on his way over. He wants to tell you himself.”
“Why all the drama?”
“His game. His rules. Another cup? He’s ten minutes away.”
She nodded. “Sure.”
Wh
en Pedro arrived, gold chains draped around his massive neck and his hair slicked back, he looked like an aging Mafioso in a loose shirt. He crossed the room to where they were sitting and lowered himself into a chair.
“Saldaño is a first-class lowlife,” Pedro began.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Leah agreed. “What did he say?”
“It took a little convincing, but he gave up his sponsor. It’s your friend, the mayor.”
“What?” Leah exclaimed.
“Well, actually, one of his aides. The mayor would never get his hands dirty. But the direction came from him.”
“You believe him?” Uriel asked.
“I was very convincing.”
Leah checked the time. “Do you think he would be in his office on a holiday?”
“Who? The mayor?”
She nodded. Pedro stared at her like she’d lost her mind.
“What are you thinking of doing?” he asked.
“I can confront him. His little ruse failed. I want to see his reaction. I’ve suspected ever since I met him that he has something to do with the disappearances. I want to read his face.”
Pedro shook his head. “How did that work the last time you tried it?” He paused. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to tackle him directly, Leah. He’ll just deny everything, and the next time he targets you, it may be more dangerous.”
“So I just let him get away with this? I don’t think so. I might have lost my job because of him.”
Uriel stood. “I agree with Pedro. Revenge is a dish best served cold. There has to be another way.”
“I’m not asking for your permission.”
“It’s a moot point, Leah. The offices won’t be open. Everyone’s on vacation. We’re big on our holidays,” Pedro countered. “And a little advice: keep your head down. You’re in his town, not El Paso. There’s nothing to protect you from him. I understand your anger, but walking into the lion’s den is a bad strategy.”
Leah recognized the logic in Pedro’s counsel, but she didn’t have to like it. “Then I came down here for nothing. Unless…I want to interview the mother.”
“Why? I already did,” Uriel said.
“And I’m sure you did a great job. But something about all of this stinks. You said so yourself. If the mother’s all we have so far, I’m in Juárez – might as well get her out of the way.”
“She doesn’t speak a word of English, Leah.”
“Pedro? Can you help?”
Pedro shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I have other commitments for the rest of the day.”
Uriel brightened. “Gabriela may be able to. I can ask her. She’s not working today because of the holiday, and the woman knows her. That could work to your advantage. Just a few follow-up questions, that sort of thing.” He eyed her. “We should have gone to the bank in the U.S. instead of wasting today. That was a bad call.”
“Yes, the ability to know the future would have been a good thing, but we’ll have to make the best of what we have,” Leah agreed. “If you’ll ask Gabriela, I can go with her while you meet with your PI. Between the two of them, we might catch a break. If not, what have we lost? Another hour of our lives?”
Uriel nodded. “Makes sense.”
Pedro stood. “Good luck, both of you. Let me know if you need anything more. Leah, if you decide to stay in town, I would be delighted to take you to dinner.”
“I have no plans to, but I appreciate it. I’ll let you know. And thank you for finding Saldaño.”
“My pleasure.” He gave her another dubious look. “Don’t do anything foolish about the mayor.”
She smiled. “I’ve used up my quota of idiocies for today. Don’t worry, Pedro. Message received, loud and clear.”
Chapter 32
Lorenzo Valdez sat on the veranda of his expansive hacienda with a snifter of rare tequila in one hand and a cigar in the other, enjoying the late afternoon while watching his retinue of guards patrol the interior of the walled compound. The city paid for a small army of hardened ex-military to insure the mayor’s safety, and Valdez took full advantage of the perk, using some to transport his wife and children wherever they wanted to go and still others as a permanent private army to defend his interests.
Since the cartel wars had subsided, Juárez had returned to relative calm – but being a high-ranking elected official still carried with it a certain level of jeopardy, especially if you played both sides, which Valdez, like his predecessors, did. He had his fingers in everything and took a cut from any criminal enterprise operating within his jurisdiction, which was his right – after all, what was the point of being mayor if you didn’t benefit from the exalted position?
A pair of young boys ran screaming from one of the outbuildings, the taller of the two chasing the younger with a tree branch clutched like a rifle, making shooting sounds. Valdez craned his neck to see his sons round the garage at breakneck speed and disappear, the only evidence of their passing fading peals of joy.
The boys would go to the best American universities and grow up to operate businesses that would guarantee their prosperity and that of their progeny; unlike Valdez, who had struggled to attend college and then law school, beating the odds of growing up in a typical border family. His big break had come from befriending the right people, who had paid his way in exchange for future favors. Now he was a wealthy man by any measure, but he still remembered the lean years and took nothing for granted.
When his friends had bought his election and then come calling for their favors to be returned, he’d willingly obliged. Politics was like the lawyer game – you said whatever you had to in order to get the job and worried about performing later. So when his patrons suggested concessions or favorable treatment for pet causes, Valdez was there to support them and took a small slice of each project as a further token of their appreciation.
It was the way of the world, and he felt no guilt about it. The poor would remain poor, the rich would prosper, and the rest would go about their business, trying to improve their condition while Valdez helped himself to the treasury in the finest tradition of politicians everywhere.
From beside a crystal ashtray on the table, his cell phone warbled a popular song, and he parked the cigar and answered the call.
“Yes?”
“We have a problem,” announced his second-in-command.
“What is it?”
“Our favorite journalist just called. He said that he had a visit this afternoon from an ex-cop who was asking uncomfortable questions on behalf of a certain American reporter.”
“Well, we knew it might happen. Sooner than we’d hoped, but so what? There’s no proof of anything.”
“Yes, but do you really want her poking around in sensitive affairs here?”
Valdez thought for a moment. “I suppose not. We should do something.”
“I have a suggestion.”
When the aide finished speaking, Valdez nodded to himself and took an appreciative sip of his tequila before answering. “She’s in town now?”
“Yes. We’ve been keeping an eye on the ex-cop. They just met.”
“You have her under surveillance?”
“For now.”
Valdez puffed the dying cigar back to life and studied the glowing ember in the fading twilight. A thread of smoke corkscrewed from it and he exhaled in resignation.
“Then do what you must.”
Chapter 33
Uriel introduced Leah to Gabriela at the coffee shop before leaving to meet the private investigator. Leah assessed Uriel’s ex and disliked what she saw instinctively. She was the polar opposite of Leah: slim, tawny complexion, a photogenic face, a body that seemed made for the stylish top and tight jeans she arrived in. Leah’s discomfiture intensified when Gabriela turned out to be quick-witted and friendly, and it took all of her effort to maintain an upbeat demeanor.
Gabriela called the mother from the café and reintroduced herself.
“Señora Gutiérre
z, it’s Gabriela, from the other night? I’m afraid we need to stop by one last time and check a few details.” Gabriela listened for a moment before continuing. “Yes, I know, but we’ve been able to get some help from the Americans. They’ve sent us a specialist who wants to go over some open issues with you,” she said, and winked at Leah, who had no idea what she was saying. Gutiérrez spoke again, and Gabriela drew herself up. “I understand, and we’ll keep it short. But this is important. I appreciate your cooperation. We can come by in about…thirty minutes.”
Gabriela ended the call and explained to Leah what she’d said.
Leah pursed her lips. “An American specialist?”
“A small but necessary exaggeration. And after all, you are American, and you are a specialist, are you not?”
“I suppose so.”
“She sounded reluctant to meet again, so I needed to come up with a good reason. She speaks no English, so there’s no fear of slipping up.” Gabriela looked over Leah’s long-sleeved concert shirt. “Maybe we’ll go by my house and get a blouse for you. Something that looks more…businesslike.”
“We can stop at a store,” Leah said.
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