Call of Duty 02 - Sworn to Protect

by DiAnn Mills

  Sandra gave a tight-lipped smile, forced at best. “I’ve never met him before. He’s quite handsome, and he knows how to sign.”

  Danika understood evasiveness. “We’ve lived together long enough for me to see that he bothers you. I can’t go out with him until you tell me why.”

  Sandra took her hand. “Maybe I’m afraid you’ll like him too much and replace me.”

  Sympathy poured into Danika’s emotions. “I could never part company with you. In fact, I worry you will meet someone and not need us. And that is really selfish of me when you deserve happiness of your own.”

  “We are silly women.” Sandra shooed Danika from the kitchen. “Go. Get to know the doctor. We all could use free medical care.”

  Danika hugged her and stepped into a new world, at least for tonight.

  Chapter 19

  Extreme fear can neither fight nor fly.

  Shakespeare

  Wednesday midmorning, Danika bumped along in her truck down the back roads of the Las Palomas Wildlife Management Area. This morning at muster, Herrera had announced what they all knew—there was a traitor among them. Homeland Security had initiated an investigation and urged all agents to come forward with pertinent information or suspects.

  “I don’t want to think any of you might put your fellow agents in danger or betray your country. But until this problem is resolved, all of you are on alert. We’ve talked to some of you already, and the rest will be interviewed within the next week.”

  The fearful murmurings that followed showed how seriously each agent took his job and the anger resulting from knowing one of them was a traitor. Danika glanced at Felipe. His black eye indicated his family had found him last night and done more than shatter his windshield in retribution for his refusal to help his illegal cousin find safety in the States. Possibly the supes viewed his straightforwardness in a positive light. She hoped so.

  “A former BP agent in Laredo was convicted of taking bribes from drug smugglers. He received fourteen years in prison,” Herrera said. “No one suspected him either.”

  Danika inhaled deeply and attempted to relax. The Laredo agent’s name was Morales. Did trouble come with the name? She’d undergone her interrogation and hopefully had passed. But her concern was for Jacob. Life for him had spun out of control. Nothing about his future with the Border Patrol looked good.

  Each day that passed without the authorities finding Nadine caused Danika to fear the teen had fled the McAllen area—or worse. Jacob had chosen not to alert the newspapers about his missing daughter due to the sensitive nature of his job. He claimed that if Nadine was hiding and the wrong person recognized her, her life could be in danger. Danika had mixed feelings about it. If Nadine’s disappearance was simply the act of an angry teenager, running the story with her photo in the paper could help in locating her. Ever since she had learned about the girl’s disappearance, Danika had text-messaged Nadine hoping for a response. And she’d continue to try to contact her niece for as long as it took.

  She thought of Nadine, pretty, alone, and naive, thinking she could escape her problems with drugs and live life on her own. Danika lived with the danger of the area and what others could do to her, but not Nadine. Fear gripped Danika for what could happen to her niece. She had so much of life ahead of her—and so much to lose. What a nightmare for Barbara and Jacob. Usually tragedy brought a couple closer. However, this time a common sorrow had shattered any semblance of unity.

  Guilt washed over her for having such a wonderful time on Tuesday night with Alex while misery clouded her family. She and Alex had talked during the appetizers and on through the molten chocolate cake for dessert. She liked him, but was it too soon? Was she betraying Toby?

  Alex and Toby shared the same compassion for others, except Toby’d had a moody side. Alex knew how to laugh, and she cherished humor when her world carried such blackness. For now, she planned to ride it out, to see if Alex could prove to be a great friend.

  * * *

  Wednesday morning found Jacob knee-deep in paperwork. He hated it, relished the idea of lighting a match to the whole mess. Who cared about the consequences? Administrative duty, they called it. It was paperwork from the abyss. He’d chosen not to tell Barbara about the disciplinary actions here. She’d go straight to the kids and tell them. Lately he wondered if she knew where Nadine was hiding. Then he remembered Barbara’s red, swollen eyes. No drama presentation there. Or was it?

  This morning, he had phoned the police on the way to the station. The officer in charge of the investigation indicated they had no lead. Jacob needed to ask the question penetrating his waking and sleeping hours. Forming the words was even harder. “Have you checked the morgue?”

  “Nothing, Mr. Morales.”

  “You’re telling me a seventeen-year-old girl has disappeared, and you can’t find her?”

  “Yes, sir. But we haven’t given up.”

  Neither had Jacob, but the chances of finding his daughter alive steadily diminished. “Put more men on it. Do you need a reward?”

  “Sir, our officers do their job. An incentive is not required or appropriate. I have officers working overtime in an effort to find your daughter. And the FBI has been on this case since twenty-four hours after she turned up missing.”

  He well remembered the FBI questioning. He and Barbara as well as each of the children were interviewed privately. The girls were in tears, and Jake kept glancing between his parents. No one had any idea of Nadine’s whereabouts. Unless Barbara was lying.

  Afterward, Jacob phoned Barbara at work with this new grenade. “The FBI hasn’t turned up a thing either.”

  “Where is our little girl?” She sobbed unlike he could ever remember. “Don’t you think she would have contacted us by now?”

  He needed for her to get past the emotion and on to a solution. “Are you sure you’ve thought of every place she could be?”

  “There’s nowhere else to look.”

  “Unless someone is lying.”

  Barbara blew her nose. “I’ve wondered if one of her friends could be hiding her.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What, then?”

  “You, Barbara.” Jacob’s discontent with his wife bubbled near the surface. “Do you know where Nadine is, and you’re keeping it from me?”

  She gasped. “Jacob, would I be this upset if I knew?”

  He’d gone too far. Of course she had no idea. He took a few breaths to calm himself. “Look, we’re both upset. I think we need to hire a private detective.”

  “I can make some calls—”

  “I’m the head of this household. I’ll handle it.”

  “Stop it, Jacob. I can’t stand any more of your bullying. You criticize and accuse me of everything. Nadine’s disappearance is your fault. Don’t you get it? You are driving away your whole family. You say we can’t put this in the newspaper, that it increases Nadine’s danger. But I no longer agree with you. I want my daughter found. If something terrible has happened to Nadine, blame yourself. She ran away because of the way you treated her.” She hung up on him. The first time ever.

  Shoving aside his anger and Barbara’s accusations, he reached for another stack of papers to file. At least with the administration demotion, he was able to leave the station a little earlier and get to the cabinet shop. The carpentry job was supposed to pay for Nadine’s college so she could attend an Ivy League school. Her grades were top-notch and scholarships were available, and he wanted nothing to stand in the way of his little girl’s having the best education.

  At lunch, Jacob had no appetite. While inhaling some of the odors coming from the break room, his stomach wrenched again. Where was his little girl? His mind swept to Kaitlyn, Jake Jr., and Amber. He hadn’t spoken to them in days. Tonight he’d make things different at home. No yelling. No threats about their behavior. He needed to feel their arms around his neck and to hear the sound of “daddy” on their lips.

  Jacob glanced up to
see Herrera in the doorway. Had Jimenez sent him to make life more unbearable? Herrera held a small package in his arms. “This came for you.”

  Confused, Jacob reached for it. “I have no idea what this could be.” He examined it on all sides. Plain brown paper. Only his name and the station’s address were on the top of the package. “Do you want me to open it?”

  Herrera eyed him, then slowly nodded. “Probably so, since it doesn’t have a return address.”

  “Did you have the bomb dogs sniff it?”

  “I did.”

  Furious at the thought of Herrera suspecting the worst, Jacob ripped into the package to find a shoe box. He lifted the lid. The contents curdled his stomach, leaving a mixture of grief and repulsion swirling throughout his body. He turned his head and vomited.

  It was a finger. Nadine’s finger, wearing the opal birthstone ring that he’d given her on her sixteenth birthday.

  Chapter 20

  What wholly takes possession of the mind is said to fill it.

  Joseph Thayer

  Alex whistled his own version of “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah” through his morning shower, the makings of his cheese omelet deluxe, his truck ride to the hospital, and on to pick up the charts on his patients. “My, oh my, what a wonderful date.”

  Dr. Sanderson, a bald pediatrician, peered up from his bifocals and his own patients’ charts. “What’s got you in such a great mood on a Wednesday morning?”

  Alex grinned. “I had a fabulous evening.”

  Sanderson moaned. “Must be a woman. Take a word of advice from a man who’s been down that road three times and hit all the potholes. Don’t.”

  “I’m not thinking marriage after one date.” Actually, the thought had crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to admit it.

  “Doctors keep crazy hours, and women want all that attention stuff. Oh, they like the money, which helps them deal with the pain of divorce and the settlement.”

  The cynical pediatrician. Alex hoped he had more optimism when dealing with his pint-size patients. “Her job is as busy as mine.”

  Sanderson offered a grim smile. “You might have a fighting chance. Two ships passing in the night have less opportunity to collide.” He wagged a finger at Alex. “I’ve been through enough women and lawyers to know I’m never going to tie that noose around my neck again.”

  Alex sorted through his files to keep his mirth in check. “I’ll keep your advice in mind.” His failed marriage corroded last night’s memories.

  “From the look on your face, it’s probably too late. Good luck, old man. Consider yourself warned. Experience has spoken.”

  As much as Alex was afraid to admit it, Sanderson was right. It was too late. Danika had made a huge dent in his heart. He liked her wit, her gorgeous blue-gray eyes, her guts, her laughter that was almost a giggle. Oh, he liked everything about her. She even liked stuffed jalapeños. Wow, they could share heartburn together.

  Strange, though. Her housekeeper and nanny was an undocumented immigrant. He recognized Sandra as a woman Toby had brought into the hospital for treatment not long before his friend had been killed, and Toby only brought undocumented people for medical care. Alex was also aware of her connection with Cira Ramos. He was certain Danika would lose her job if the Border Patrol learned the truth about Sandra’s status.

  Alex glanced through his files, noting how each patient had spent the night and their response to hospital care and scheduled treatment. Another cup of coffee would be nice. He headed to the cafeteria and allowed his mind to drift back to last night. . . .

  Driving Danika home, he hadn’t been quite ready to let go of the evening.

  “I’d like to see you again,” he’d said. Bluntness had always been one of his headline characteristics. She’d admitted to the same when she’d brought in Rita.

  “Before I respond, let me tell you about my schedule.”

  “Sure, go ahead.” Alex had an idea from Toby, but he wanted to hear it from Danika. She’d mentioned it before, and it obviously was a concern to her. Besides, he hadn’t decided when would be the opportune moment to tell her about how he knew Toby.

  “You told me about your friendship with Chief Jimenez, but let me remind you I work ten-hour shifts five days a week. When I’m on days, it’s not so bad. I’m home around six. But I’m a devoted mother. Tiana requires so much attention, not only because of her physical challenges but also because I’m the only parent.”

  “I understand the demands of your job and raising a daughter by yourself. I may not have a child to rear, but I can be called to the hospital at any time.”

  She nodded. “Weekends are not an option for me. Sometimes I get a Saturday or Sunday off, but rarely. Then every four to six months, my shift changes to either four to midnight or nights. During those months, what little time I have is filled with work, sleep, and being a mommy. Without Sandra, I’m lost.”

  “Ed’s relayed the problems of crazy hours and the shift changes.”

  “I want you to understand I don’t have a normal job.”

  “And neither do I.” He stopped at a red light. “So is your answer a yes?”

  She paused, and Alex counted the seconds. “I’d like to see you again too. I guess as long as we understand the demands of each other’s careers and my love for Tiana, then we can arrange our schedules the best we can.”

  “Deal.”

  “One more thing. My neighbors don’t know I’m a Border Patrol agent. I change into my uniform at the station and change back at the end of my shift. It’s simply not smart, and those who have illegals in their families and friends would not appreciate what I do. Tiana or Sandra could be a target for their aversion toward the BP.”

  “I’ll keep it to myself.”

  “Thanks.” Again she paused, and again he counted the seconds. “I have a serious question. You’re a doctor at a hospital that treats anyone and everyone, no questions asked. Are you a pro-immigration activist?”

  Alex expected this, but not on the first date. “I’m committed to healing every person who is in need of medical attention. I am also a U.S. citizen and believe our laws are in place for a purpose—to be obeyed.” He started to add he and Toby had been friends, and they had shared genuine sympathy and compassion for the hardworking undocumented immigrants, but they didn’t always agree on the manner in which to help them. Alex opened his mouth to speak, then changed his mind. His and Toby’s relationship could be discussed at another time. The discussion would take some time, especially the parts about his and Toby’s differences.

  “I respect your views.”

  “So, we can do this again?”

  She lifted her chin and slowly nodded. “I believe we can.”

  And he’d been like a frog on a lily pad ever since.

  * * *

  Jacob shoved the trash can aside. Tears poured from his eyes while the vomit soaked the contents of the trash. His pulse pounded in his head and heat rose to his face. He wanted to wrap his hands around the neck of whoever had done this atrocity to his little girl. He’d kill them and enjoy every minute of it.

  “What’s in the box?” Herrera’s voice echoed around him.

  Jacob couldn’t respond. Curses and vows took root, but the words rose and died in his throat, while the world around him spun in an eerie gyration.

  “Oh no,” Herrera whispered. “Morales, what do you know about this?”

  Again, Jacob attempted to speak. He covered his face, willing the image of Nadine’s finger to vanish. And for the first time in months, he wished Barbara were there to help him. No, I wouldn’t want to put her through this. Yet he needed her. He couldn’t bear facing this alone.

  “It’s my daughter.”

  Herrera slammed the door shut and scraped a chair close to Jacob. “Are you sure? Let’s call her.”

  Jacob shook his head. “She’s been missing for ten days.”

  “Have you received a ransom note?”

  “No. She ran off. Police can’t find her.
”

  “I’m going after Jimenez.”

  Jacob’s chest ached as though his heart would burst. He peered at Herrera. “Why?”

  “You don’t need to go through this alone, Morales. Not this.” Herrera stood. “Stay right here.” He glanced at the shoe box. “Let me take that.”

  “No!” Jacob’s voice bounced off the walls of the small room. “It belongs to my little girl.” For a moment, he thought he’d be sick again. A grown man was supposed to be in control. But the grounds for his demotion to filing papers were that he couldn’t control himself.

  Herrera leaned toward Jacob. “I’d want to kill someone too.” He picked up the desk phone and punched in four digits, an interoffice number. “Sir, got a critical situation with Jacob Morales. Need you here.”

  “I’ll kill whoever has done this,” Jacob said. “I’ll not rest until he’s dead.”

  Chapter 21

  A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies.

  Oscar Wilde

  “Are you doing better now?” Jimenez sat across from Jacob.

  “I think so.” The box sat between them with the lid firmly affixed. He couldn’t let it out of his sight. Rationality seemed to have left him. “I . . . apologize for—”

  Jimenez waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Your kids are fingerprinted, right?”

  “You’re thinking of tapping into the database for a positive ID?”

  “You need to know for sure about this. What if this isn’t your daughter?”

  Numb with grief, Jacob grasped on to a lifeline of hope. “I don’t know how it could not be hers. The ring is the one I gave her.” He hadn’t considered this as someone’s revolting joke.