An Equation For Murder

by Jayne Nichols

  When he waved away the sandwich in favor of the beer, Lillian relaxed, traded the bottle for the baby and returned to the comfort of her car. She didn’t have long to wait. Soon Jorgé was snoring vigorously. Lillian finished her sandwich, then lingered another ten minutes before getting up the courage to approach his inert body. She nudged him. Nothing. The gun and Sam’s cell phone lay side by side in the grass. She tucked both items into her purse. Her car keys were another matter. He had taken them from the ignition and right now they created a large bulge in his right pants pocket. She hesitated, her thumb and forefinger poised to draw them from their hiding place.

  His sudden snort startled her. She paused, her heart pounding, then tugged the keys free and raced for the car. Heaved a huge sigh of relief when he didn’t wake up and follow her.

  Fingers shaking, Lillian started the car, then backed it out onto the dirt road and drove away slowly and she hoped, quietly. Watching Jorgé’s sleeping figure grow smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror, she began to breathe easier. Until she looked at the gas gauge. The needle sat at the quarter mark. The tank had been full when they’d left her house that morning.

  Could she make it to Tijuana and a gas station? The GPS on Sam’s iPhone would tell her how far it was and how fast she should drive. She pressed the On button. No service. Shit. Now what?

  Well, Lillian, you did take Algebra. Here’s your chance to use it.

  True, and though she would be able to compute time, distance, and speed, she didn’t think all the Algebra in the world would keep the man Jorgé worked for from finding her and killing her before she could reach the border.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jorgé woke to a raucous hammering in his head and the sharp toe of a boot digging into his ribs.

  “Did you have a nice nap?”

  Through the cloud of hazy goo that filled his brain, Jorgé recognized the man’s voice. And with that recognition came fear. He sat up quickly. Too quickly. His stomach twisted, bile rose into his throat, then onto the dirt at the man’s feet. On hands and knees, he retched until his stomach was empty while Carlos simply watched and said nothing.

  “You done yet?” When Jorgé nodded, Carlos gathered his shirt collar in that huge fist of his and yanked him to his feet. “Good.”

  “Don’t hurt him, Carlos. He has much to tell us.”

  Jorgé felt his bladder release and warm liquid dribble down the inside of his legs. The other man, the one who held this one’s leash, leaned casually against the front of his black SUV, his feet crossed at the ankles.

  “Where is my mask?”

  Jorgé’s gaze drifted in an arc, from the man, to Carlos, then to the spot where the BMW had been parked. It was gone. He closed his eyes. How was he to talk himself out of this mess? “The woman must have taken it.”

  “What woman?”

  “The woman in the BMW who has my son. You remember, don’t you? I told you about her. When my wife died in the crash, she took my baby son.”

  “What does all this have to do with the mask?” Carlos advanced on Jorgé. “Let me make him talk.”

  “Patience, Carlos.”

  The man’s smile resembled that of a cobra ready to strike, and Jorgé sank to his knees, ready to beg. Instead, he merely babbled like an idiot. “I swear I had the mask, but she… she must have put something in my drink. Then she drove away with José and the mask. She stole it from me. When you find her, I will kill her for you.”

  “You are such a brave man.” Again, the snake-like smile. “Where in the car is my mask?”

  Jorgé tried to swallow, but his mouth had grown as dry as the dusty road. The man nodded to Carlos who then picked up the half-full beer bottle resting against an exposed root of the tree where Jorgé had been sleeping and offered it to him.

  “But it must still have the drug in it.”

  “You’re thirsty. Drink it.”

  Jorgé stared at the man and shook his head. “I’m not thirsty.” He tried to back away, but Carlos blocked his retreat. Carlos forced the bottle into his hand. “Why are you doing this? I want to work for you. I did everything you asked. I brought the mask across the border.” Tears welled in his eyes. He licked his dry lips. “I only want a new life. A better life.”

  “Then drink, and tell me where I can find my mask.”

  While the man watched silently, Jorgé finished off the contents of the bottle, then described the place in the carrier where he’d hidden the mask. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “I’m going to give you what you want. Now, go sit against the tree and rest.”

  Jorgé grinned, afraid to believe his good luck. “Thank you, Senõr. Thank you. I will do anything you say.” Though he was too excited to rest, he headed for the tree to show these men he could follow orders. He had passed the test. Now he would be allowed to join them. He sat down in the shade of the tree and listened to their whispers until his eyelids grew heavy.

  * * *

  “Do you want me to kill him?” Carlos asked, his hand reaching for the nine millimeter Lugar strapped to his hip.

  “Wait until he’s asleep. He deserves that much.” Manuel gazed toward the tree. Such a waste. He had actually hoped the boy might prove himself with this assignment. Now he would have to keep looking.

  “Si, Manuel, but what should we do about the woman?”

  “I will decide that when we find her.”

  Carlos grinned. “If she’s pretty, can I have her?” He rocked his hips. “It’s been a long time since I had a woman.”

  Manuel sighed. He did not look forward to working for Carlos when Senõr Rojas died. And mask or no mask, the old man would not win his war with cancer.

  “Only if she wants you.”

  * * *

  Amanda tapped the steering wheel while they waited for the line of cars ahead to move forward toward the entrance into Mexico at Tijuana. She had maintained an eerie silence since declaring why her father would quit loving her. “Aren’t you missing your classes?”

  It was too late to think about that now, Sam thought, but her question made him glance at his watch. Noon, straight up. “You state the obvious so well, Amanda.”

  The loss of her father had thrust Lillian’s daughter into her own little world of make-believe, and he had no idea how to break through it. No more than he could make Ben understand that he and Rachel would never re-marry. His love for Lillian had become the catalyst, pushing Ben toward accepting the truth. Could Lillian’s love for him be the spark that forced Amanda to accept the reality of her father’s death and let go of her fantasy? Or would it push her daughter over the edge?

  “What will that man do to my mother?”

  Sam turned to face her. It was the first time Amanda had displayed any worry over her mother’s kidnapping. He could hear concern in her voice and wanted to reassure her. Reassure himself. “I’m hoping he’ll let her go once he’s across the border.”

  “Why would he take her?”

  “I don’t know, Amanda. I only know I wasn’t able to stop him, and if anything happens to her, I’m not sure I’ll be able to live with that.”

  “It didn’t sound like he gave you much choice in the matter.”

  Sam stared at her. Was she actually clearing him of blame? “No, he didn’t, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear.”

  She sniffled, wiped at a tear that dribbled down her cheek and raised her chin. “I know you don’t believe me, but I love my mother. I don’t want to lose her.”

  Before he could think of an answer, her cell phone rang. It sat in the cup holder between them. “Could you get that?”

  “As long as it doesn’t get you into trouble if a man answers.”

  She turned to look at him, fought the smile, then gave in and laughed. “Thank you, Sam. I needed that. Put it on speaker.”

  Sam cleared his throat. “Hello.”

  “Mr. Weiss?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Detective Alan Wilson
with Homeland Security. I tried the other number, but there was no answer. Where are you, Mr. Weiss?”

  Sam glanced at Amanda. She shrugged. “I’m in a car in line at the border, waiting to cross into Mexico to rescue my fiancée.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t do that.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you’d rather I didn’t do.” He glanced at Amanda, her mouth open, her blue eyes wide with shock. “I’m not going to leave her in a kidnapper’s hands.”

  “Neither are we, Mr. Weiss, but I need you to be sensible and hear me out.”

  “You have my attention until we reach the border which at the rate we’re going should be another ten minutes.”

  “I’ve already spoken with the Mexican police, and they are cooperating. Jorgé Molina and Lillian Moore crossed into Tijuana at approximately 7:30 this morning. The police believe their car left the border zone’s eighteen-mile limit headed for Ensenada shortly after.”

  “Are you sure it was them.”

  “Only that the car was a BMW with California plates carrying a man and a woman with a baby.”

  Sam didn’t know whether to be relieved or panic that she was still out there with him. “That must be her. What happens now?”

  “The police are searching for the car. I need you to wait on the American side of the border. If you cross into Mexico and create an international incident, I won’t be able to help you.” Sam glanced at Amanda. Her mouth formed the word “please.” “Mr. Weiss, please let us handle this. We’re doing everything we can right now to get your fiancée home to you. You can help us in another way.”

  “What? What can I do?”

  “Can you tell us anything more about the man who kidnapped her?”

  “Like what?”

  “You saw him. What was your impression of him? Did he give you any indication of why he picked your fiancée’s house or why he wanted to get across the border?”

  Sam told the detective everything he could remember prior to being knocked unconscious. “I think he was hiding something in the carrier. At least he checked it over before demanding that Lillian go with him. I objected, and that’s when he hit me.”

  “Notice anything else before he hit you?”

  “Yes, he has a gun.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Lillian’s gaze dropped to the gas gauge every few minutes. The fuel light had been a steady yellow for the last five miles, and she was still no nearer to civilization than she had been ten miles ago. Or twenty. Mountains loomed to the south while north of her lay an endless expanse of desert. Beautiful desert, but still uninhabited by anything other than snakes and scorpions. Not a human encampment anywhere to be seen. She hadn’t remembered the drive in being so desolate, but then her mind had been on the gun pointed at her ribs.

  Opening the door, Lillian relieved herself beside the car, figuring no one was around to care. She took the last four bottles of water from the box she kept behind the seat, chastising herself for not replenishing it last night. Last night. That seemed an eternity ago. Had Sam really proposed on bended knee? And had she really said yes? She glanced down at the ring on her finger and smiled. It would seem so. Thoughts of Sam only brought more worry, but she couldn’t stop the deluge. Sam kissing her. Loving her. Lying on her living room floor with what could be a fatal head wound.

  Oh God! Would she ever see him again?

  She would have continued to lose herself in memories had not Joey started to cry. He’d been so good on this miserable trip into no man’s land. She picked him up, cuddled him against her shoulder. “I know you’re hungry, sweetheart, but we’re all out of formula, and I don’t think you’re quite ready for Cheetos.” Though maybe she could let him chew on a nice, fat pretzel if she watched him closely. She filled his bottle with water and exchanged his wet diaper for the last dry one. When the pretzel was mush, she slipped it from his fingers and replaced it with his bottle before he had a chance to cry.

  “We’d better get going.” She hooked him back into the carrier and settled herself behind the steering wheel. Sat there staring out the window, then at the gas gauge. “It isn’t going to change just because you wish it would.”

  Lillian picked up the tablet she’d tossed onto the passenger seat earlier. On it were her calculations. If she was even close to being right, she had only enough gas left in the tank to get her another ten miles, and that was going a bare twenty miles an hour. After that, it would be a long walk.

  When her car stuttered to a stop twelve miles later, Lillian closed her eyes tight. Don’t you dare cry, Lillian Moore. Do you hear me? Her inner self was right. Tears would do no good. Instead, she picked up her purse, extended the strap, then slipped it over her head. With a force of will that surprised her, she opened her door and stepped out of the car. Another two hours of driving and she would have made it to Ensenada. Walking with a baby would take… days.

  She packed their meager supply of water and food into the diaper bag. After debating whether it would be easier to take the carrier or hold a squirming baby in her arms for a hundred and fifty miles, lugging the carrier won. Muttering to herself, she unhooked it from the back seat. Stopped briefly to gaze out the windshield at the long road ahead of her. “Shit. Doesn’t anyone ever use this damned road?”

  Lillian regretted her words when the faint sound of a vehicle motor carried across the empty land. Had it not been from the south, she might not have panicked. But a vehicle was coming fast, raising a cloud of dust on the horizon. No time to calculate how quickly it would arrive, nor did it matter. Grabbing the carrier handle, she dashed off the road and into one of the gullies that led away from the road toward the mountains. She needed to find a place to hide. It might not be her kidnapper’s confederate, but better safe than sorry.

  Low hanging branches snagged at her hair and scratched her face. The weight of the carrier plus baby dragged at her shoulder. She found a crevasse between two rocks big enough for her and the baby to huddle inside, yet close enough to the road to signal the driver. Provided he didn’t want to kill her. Though the temperature was hot enough to fry an egg, Lillian shivered. She peeked around the rock. All she could see was the approaching dust cloud. Closer. Closer.

  A black SUV pulled to a stop behind her car. With the cutting of its motor came an eerie silence. The two men who stepped out of the vehicle did not look like they had come to assist. Lillian held her breath while the smaller man opened the driver’s-side door and looked inside.

  “Where do you think she’s gone?” the younger, heavier man asked. He received an angry glare in return and a hand raised to silence him.

  Lillian sucked in a sharp breath and clasped one hand over her mouth. This had to be the man Jorgé Molina worked for, the one who had promised her captor so much money. But to do what? What did this man want? She glanced down at the carrier when the baby whimpered, searched for the bottle of water and stuck the nipple into his mouth.

  “Ssh,” she whispered, then glanced back at the car to see if the men had heard.

  The leader motioned for the other man to head right while he started in the opposite direction. Lillian’s body shook so hard she had to hold tight to her upper arms to control it. Should she run? She couldn’t leave the baby, but how far would she get carrying him?

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” the younger man sang. “I’m going to find you, and when I do, I’m going to make you want me.”

  Lillian gasped. Sensing her rising fear, the baby pushed the bottle away and wailed. The instant she reached for him, the man came crashing through the brush. He halted abruptly and smiled. His silent, amorous appraisal sent chills down her spine. He raised his gun. “I usually like my women young, but I imagine an old hen like you knows how to please a young cock.”

  Lillian was too stunned to move. Was this man actually planning to rape her? Would he shoot her if she ran? She stood slowly, her back against the wall of rock behind her.

  The man laughed, then call ou
t. “Hey, Manuel, I found her!”

  The words had barely left the man’s mouth, when a crack of thunder rattled the air. The man before her dropped to his knees, a small black hole in his forehead between his eyes. Another shot, and blood spurted from his mouth. He fell forward, face down on the ground. Lillian heard footsteps approaching. She darted for her purse, withdrew the gun and holding it with two hands, pointed it at the man who sauntered into view.

  “I didn’t think you wanted him.”

  “What do you want?” Lillian’s breath came in quick, painful puffs. Her hands shook, and she was terrified she would hyperventilate and pass out. Who knew what he would do to her then?

  “You are a very brave woman.”

  “I’m scared shitless right now, but if you come any closer, I’ll shoot you.”

  He smiled gently and raised his hands. “I believe you.”

  “Who are you? What is it you want?” Lillian held the gun out in front of her. He took a step closer. “I’ll shoot you, I will.”

  “No, you won’t.” The man leaned forward, drew the gun effortlessly from her grasp. “First, you have to release the safety. Here, let me show you.”

  Lillian watched intently, her heart in her throat, while he released the safety catch, dropped the magazine expertly into his hand, then showed her that it was fully loaded. When she nodded that she understood, he replaced it and proceeded with his instructions.

  “Once you’ve released the safety, you need to chamber the first bullet, like so.” He pulled the slide back and released it. “There, now you’re ready to shoot. All you have to do is squeeze the trigger.”