Call of Duty 02 - Sworn to Protect

by DiAnn Mills

  “Shouldn’t he be better by now?” She adjusted the light coverlet around his body.

  “He is better.” Alex studied the chart one more time, then the IV level. “Remember, Cira, we talked about this. Your son will be fine, but it’ll take a little while.”

  “I understand.” She looked pale, thin, and exhausted.

  “Are you working, taking care of your grandfather, and attempting to spend every possible moment at the hospital?”

  She nodded and fingered a small cross around her neck. “He is my life, my heart. I wonder if I’m not praying right.”

  Alex leaned his crutches against the back of Mickey’s bed and eased into a chair next to her. “You’re carrying far too many burdens. God hears your prayers. Be sure of that.” He gestured toward Mickey. “And your son is making progress. In a few days, he’ll be scrambling to get out of that bed and play.”

  She smiled through damp lashes. “I pray so.”

  “Me too.” Alex took a breath. Another matter needed to be discussed. “Cira, the police are looking for the woman who fronted your money to cross the border. They have enough evidence to bring her in for questioning, specifically for running an illegal operation and abusing other women.”

  “I can’t risk being sent back. Someone might take my son since he’s a citizen.”

  An anchor child . . . at the heart of the problem for so many undocumented immigrants. “If you were escorted back across the border, Mickey would go with you. He’d still retain his citizenship so that when he was old enough, he could return to the U.S.”

  “I want to raise him here.” She set her lips, but Alex refused to give up.

  “I’ve treated young women who’ve been beaten and then dropped off here at the hospital. One had lost a finger. None will name their abuser. They hadn’t been raped, and there were no signs of drugs in their system. Is this a part of the same operation?”

  Cira sighed. “Possibly. But that’s all I can tell you. She’s a mean woman, a devil. I don’t care about myself, but she’d hurt my son.”

  Mickey stirred, and she glanced his way. Love filled her face with a special light that only a mother possessed. “You see, when we agreed to have her front half of our money, we were told that if we got pregnant, the baby would be aborted. No argument. I’ve seen what she has done to other women who didn’t obey her.”

  “Don’t you want it stopped so she can go to jail?”

  “What is worse, Dr. Alex? Running from her or being deported? As far as the other women trapped here, they have to stay put until their debt is paid. Here we have a chance to provide a better life for our families. They know one day it will be over. No one wants to risk being caught by the Border Patrol.”

  “I think one young woman died because of her,” he finally said. “But she’d been raped.”

  Her face paled. “I’m not surprised. Before Toby was killed, he . . . ”

  “What? Did Toby know this woman you won’t identify?”

  “I’m not saying anything else. It’s too dangerous.”

  Alex reluctantly stood to examine Mickey. Later he’d process what little information Cira had given him. A name, if only she’d give him a name. For the first time, Alex realized that Toby might have met the woman Cira feared. But the murder hadn’t been solved, and Cira might be the one to supply the missing link. She may already know who murdered Toby.

  But first Alex had to convince her to trust him. Like another female he knew.

  Chapter 36

  Too long a sacrifice

  Can make a stone of the heart.

  O when may it suffice?

  William Butler Yeats

  Sandra watched Tiana splash in a small, blue plastic pool under a covered area in the backyard. Danika had thought of everything when she hired a landscaper to turn the oversize yard into a play area that shielded the little girl from the sun. Every piece of equipment was in the shade or under a constructed overhang. Hanging plants, flowering shrubbery, and trees also invited adults to relax. This was what Sandra needed today.

  She never imagined leaving Danika and Tiana, but Lucy’s continual demands for Border Patrol information had not given her much choice. The guilt of how she’d lied to Danika seemed to mount daily. In the wee hours of the morning, she realized that even her friendship and love for Danika and Tiana were based on lies. The fact made her a user, as though she were hooked on cocaine.

  No, I’m a better person than that. Love is what God calls us to do, and I love this country and my adopted family. If only her documents were legitimate.

  “I have information for you,” Lucy had said. “Something that will persuade you to do what I ask. My messenger will arrive in about thirty minutes.”

  Sandra wanted to take Tiana and leave the house, but what good would that do? Lucy had spies, and she always learned things. In times like these, Sandra wished someone would find a way to rid them all of Lucy.

  The moments ticked by while she rocked back and forth on the glider. Tiana’s laughter usually calmed Sandra’s troubled spirit, but not today. Uneasiness slithered up her spine with a chill at her nape that scoffed at her apprehension. She guessed Danika would agree to Karen Price’s offer, which meant Sandra would accompany Tiana to San Antonio on Wednesday morning. Oh, time played the advocate in balancing her devotion to Danika and Tiana with Lucy’s demands.

  A black Ford pickup pulled into the driveway, a new truck. Each wheel probably cost the same as what she earned in a month. A young Hispanic man exited the vehicle and looked around.

  She gasped. Jose was her messenger? He must have sold his soul to Lucy for that truck. Surely not. She swallowed hard. Maybe he agreed to do whatever she asked without knowing what Lucy would expect of him. Her messengers did all of her dirty work, whatever it took to keep Lucy’s girls in line . . . whatever it took to get the job done.

  Tiana squealed, capturing Jose’s attention. He walked toward the gate and spotted Sandra. When she failed to move his way, he let himself in and joined her on the glider. Tiana appeared oblivious to him as she continued pouring water over a small paddleboat.

  “You weren’t expecting me.” Not a trace of a smile laced his words.

  “Is this how you’re getting your documentation papers?” Sandra hoped he couldn’t hear her heart hammer against her chest.

  “It’s my chance to have everything I want.”

  “At what price?”

  “Whatever it takes.”

  Sandra rubbed her arms and remembered, the truth making her ill. “You were working for Lucy when you came to see me the first time.”

  “Did you think I’d really want you? I can have any woman I want.”

  She tried to ignore the knife twisting in her heart. No, her very soul. “You were looking for information when I found you in Danika’s room.”

  “Right, and I couldn’t find a thing. Lucy has a couple of messages for you.” His whisper came out more like a hiss.

  “So I heard. Why don’t you say what you came for and leave?”

  He clutched her arm. “If you weren’t living here, you’d get a beating.”

  “And I suppose that’s your job now?”

  He chuckled. The lure of Jose turned to disgust—his dimpled grin and handsome face meant she’d been a fool. “Whatever it takes.”

  “So you enjoy licking Lucy’s feet?”

  He pulled a knife from his jean pocket. “I’d like nothing better than to cut your face into bite-size pieces, but Lucy needs what only you can provide. The moment she’s finished with you, I’ll track you down.”

  She trembled, and his grasp on her arm tightened. “Get it over with,” she said, her words sounding more courageous than she felt.

  Jose’s smile twisted into a sneer. “Don’t tempt me. I came on an errand, remember? Have you heard the latest news from near Barranquillas?”

  Blood drained from Sandra’s face, and horror captured her.

  “A fire destroyed the home of an elderly coupl
e,” he said. “Perhaps you know them, Estella and Pedro Rodriguez? Unfortunately they died in the blaze. I hear the church can’t find a thing but charred bones to bury.” He flipped open the cover to his cell phone and showed her a picture of the charred remains of her parents and their home.

  Acid rose to her throat, and her stomach churned. She knew every inch of her parents’ home, a shack to some, but it was where laughter and love had lived. Jose had captured it all on his phone—in ashes.

  “Oh, and here’s another one so you don’t think I’m lying.” He displayed a second picture, showing the neighbor’s house.

  Unfathomable grief attached its claws to her body. Lucy had threatened her parents, but murder? Paralyzed, she struggled to respond to him. “Both of you are animals.”

  He lifted a brow. “Are we? Lucy thinks they won’t be needing medicine any longer. She thought this might persuade you to get what she needs.”

  The sensors’ locations. Sandra shivered. “I’ll do what I can and have it for you on Thursday morning. She’s off on Tuesday and Wednesday, but I don’t know if she carries the information with her.”

  “You better hope she does.” He slipped the knife back into his pocket and released her arm. “Don’t be putting us off, or I’ll let you personally witness what we plan to do next.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Jose stood from the glider and watched Tiana, who had yet to be interrupted in her water play. “I’ve been thinking. The kid can’t hear, so she doesn’t need one of those ears.” He left Sandra sitting on the glider and Tiana playing in the water.

  The little girl watched him leave and waved as though he were a friend.

  Emotion bubbled in Sandra’s throat and unleashed in grief she didn’t know existed. Memories of a little girl who adored her father and cherished her mother surfaced and faded one after another. Her parents hadn’t done anything to deserve this horrible death but wish her a good life and pray for her.

  Sandra glanced at her precious Tiana. She’d persuade Danika to send Tiana with Karen Price on Wednesday—away from this madness. And if that didn’t work, she’d tell Danika the truth . . . all of it. Even what she knew about Toby’s death. Then she’d run to where Lucy or Jose or the Border Patrol would never find her.

  She couldn’t even attend her own parents’ funeral.

  * * *

  Danika pulled into the parking lot at the Hidalgo station for her quarterly weapons qualification. Today she’d recertify the use of her assigned HK handgun, a shotgun, and an M4 assault rifle, and she’d need to pass all three. As usual, she was nervous, and she’d been an agent for over eight years. The latest news report along the border told of Mexican police seizing a machine gun that had the ability to pierce steel up to a mile away—U.S.–made, of course. Citizens and undocumented immigrants alike worried about the cartel marching into border states with their limitless supply of money and weaponry.

  Positioning earplugs in her ears, she stepped up to the target with the handgun. Fortunately she’d never killed a man. Came close a few times with drug smugglers. They didn’t have much to lose by gunning down a Border Patrol agent, and gang leaders scored extra points for killing agents.

  Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind of everything but the task before her. Concentration and determination took precedence. Her senses numbed except for focusing on the target, Danika took aim and squeezed the trigger.

  Several minutes later, she removed the earplugs, satisfied with the results in all three weapons.

  With the pressure gone, she relaxed and headed to her assigned truck. A huge decision needled her, and she needed to call Karen Price one way or the other. If Tiana and Sandra left on Wednesday with Karen, then her little girl deserved to know the changes about to occur in her life. Another meeting should be arranged with Karen so Tiana would feel comfortable. She’d always been a sociable child, but this was a stretch. And what about Sandra? Danika chose not to think of her refusing to go. The mere thought of coming home to an empty house each day was overwhelming.

  Oh, God, Tiana is my light. Tell me what to do. I want her safe, but sending her to San Antonio frightens me.

  Danika wanted to know what God advised now, and the drive home would offer a bit of quiet for His response.

  “Hey, Crack Shot, you did good out there.”

  Danika recognized Felipe’s voice behind her. What a great guy, and just what she needed today. Grinning, she stopped until he caught up. “Did it scare you enough to stop teasing me about my softball finesse?”

  “For sure. I’m writing my apology tonight.”

  “Sign it in blood. I want to post it for the rest of the guys who are still laughing.”

  “I’ll think about it.” He sobered. “Are you okay?”

  Did she wear her anxiety like a shoulder patch? “Most of the time.”

  “That’s a good, honest answer. I mean, with Jacob gone and the shooting and the wondering if the chief is finished with his investigation.”

  Danika didn’t believe in signs—except for footprints and empty Red Bull cans—but the dilemma with Tiana was making her crazy. She desperately craved advice. Karen had checked out to be everything she claimed. “You’re my friend, right?”

  “For the five years I’ve been here. And you introduced me to Becca.”

  She hesitated, then drew in a breath. “I’m thinking about sending Tiana and Sandra away for a little while. The shooting scared me.”

  He nodded. “Do it.”

  Could she trust him? “No questions or an advantage and disadvantage list?”

  “Nope. Someone tried to kill you. Your husband was murdered two years ago. Jacob’s been fired, and he’s mad at the world. His daughter’s missing. I don’t know what’s going on in your life, but I’d have already hidden Tiana someplace far away from this mess.”

  She had her answer.

  Chapter 37

  In a dark time, the eye begins to see.

  Theodore Roethke

  Alex watched his mom poke carrots and celery and then an apple into a juicer. The machine buzzed like a chain saw. If she thought he was going to drink that muddy mess, she was wrong. So much for allowing her to drop him off at the hospital and leave her with idle time to shop.

  “You’ll love this,” she called from the kitchen. “And it’s so good for you.”

  “Wonderful, Mom.”

  “Do I denote sarcasm?”

  “Absolutely. I’m a doctor, and I know all about proper nutrition. But I’m a firm believer that food is supposed to taste good.”

  “Which is why I purchased you this magnificent juicer.”

  Before he could think of another remark, his cell phone rang. Danika. Did he dare hope she wanted to talk to him?

  “Hi, Alex. How are you feeling?”

  “Actually, pretty good. Working helps.”

  “Is your mother spoiling you?”

  When he considered the disgusting brew in the juicer, spoiled rang true. “Guess you could say that.” He wanted to talk to her about Cira and his suspicions about Toby’s murderer, but not over the phone. “Have you made a decision about Tiana and my mother teaming up?”

  “I have. Is Karen around?”

  “She is. Hold on; I have to grab my crutches and take her the phone.” He hesitated. “It’s been good talking to you.”

  She laughed softly as though she detected his nervousness. “Thank you.”

  Alex hobbled into the kitchen and handed his mother the phone.

  “Must be Danika,” she mouthed and smiled—that mom thing that a grown man never outgrew.

  Mom took the phone and walked outside. He glanced at the counter where she’d poured her health drink into a glass. The nondescript, rather greenish, thick mess reminded him of gummy bears after a whirl in the food processor. Or the mess he’d made of his and Danika’s relationship.

  Oh, Danika, you’ve tormented my heart. I can’t undo the damage, and I can’t seem to shake what I feel.
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  His thoughts turned to a few of his patients. With his limited mobility and the time taken off for his leg to heal, he had to rely on other trusted doctors to help him. Those arrangements bothered him. His patients deserved their own doctor, and he was finished with making excuses for himself.

  * * *

  Danika chatted to Karen about McAllen and listened to how the woman enjoyed the city. She’d shopped and taken note of all the new construction since she’d last visited Alex three years prior. All the while Danika’s pulse raced with what she was about to do. She barely knew this woman, and in less than thirty-six hours, she’d have Danika’s most precious treasure. Granted, Sandra would be with Tiana, but a nanny was not a mommy.

  “I’ve made a decision,” Danika said. “If you’re still willing to keep my daughter for a little while, I . . . I’ll have her ready on Wednesday morning.”

  “Oh, honey, I know this has been a tough few days while you contemplated handing over your Tiana to a stranger.”

  The angst was only beginning. “A lot of prayers and tears have gone into this, but it’s the best solution. I’ll have my attorney draw up the papers in the morning giving you temporary guardianship. I’ll bring them to you in the afternoon.”

  “Does she know yet?”

  “I’m telling her in a little bit. But I need your word—and Alex’s—that no one learns about this. I’ll let Chief Jimenez know.”

  “I promise. Alex had mentioned the same thing. Would you like for me to stop by later?”

  Relief helped ease the lump in Danika’s throat. “Yes. Very much.”

  “Is about an hour and a half okay?”

  Karen wanted to help keep Tiana safe, and now Danika must continue—or she’d fall apart. “I want to say how very much I appreciate what you’re doing.”

  “Children have to be protected. It’s our role as women to nurture. It’s how God wired us.”