by JD Davis
Secretary Munoz was quoted saying, “While the US government played a minor role in the investigation, all arrests and convictions were strictly attributed to the hard work of his department.”
It was decided by the attorney general the grieving families of Guatemala would be best served by the extradition of Tino Alverez. Unfortunately, the courts would not hear the case as he was stabbed to death in a Guatemala jail cell.
When Bennie Castro graduated from the Tijuana Institute of Technology with an associate’s degree in computer science, he was wildly applauded by his family and good friend, Agent Paul Ruiz.
CHAPTER 39
LAST DANCE
Between the FBI, CIA, NSA, DEA, US Army, and an invitation to return and testify before a congressional subcommittee, the questions, interviews and paperwork had taken almost two weeks. Regardless of the demands, at the end of each day Joe, Mel, Oscar, and Piper met at the hospital to look in on Pike. As it turned out, according to the Pentagon, there had been a serious oversight with his paperwork, and his promotion to full bird colonel was unanimously approved. However, the inquiry cast light in several other dark corners. Congressmen and staffers from Colorado, California, and the state of Washington were brought before an ethics committee. One congressman, responsible for shutting down the original investigation, and who could not explain such a large infusion of cash to his reelection campaign, “resigned due to personal matters.” Within a few months, two congressmen were censured by their peers, four staffers were fired, and more than one head rolled at the Pentagon. All in all, for Washington DC, it was some unusual, but necessary housekeeping.
During a tearful goodbye dinner in Colonel Pike’s hospital room, the five amigos shared pizza and, to Piper’s chagrin, a six-pack of Dr. Pepper.
“I was reading this morning,” said the colonel, “from a book I received from Joe, that, in order to see the extraordinary view from the sun-washed mountaintops, we have to walk through the dark valleys. It also said we don’t walk alone. I want each of you to know that God and I will always be there, to walk through the valleys with you.”
All too often, exceptional moments are denigrated by words. They all nodded their heads, knowing there was nothing more to be said.
The homecoming at Segundo Vida Vineyards was perfect—a low-key affair with family and only the best of friends. Lizzie, Jillian, and Sonata made carne asada, homemade tamales, and chili verde with all the trimmings. The outside fireplace roared, the wine flowed, the laughter was contagious, and Jose and Sonata sang.
As the warmth of the fire took the chill out of the February evening, Joe leaned close to Mel and Mel leaned back.
“What do you think—District Attorney Michele Randle does have a nice ring to it.”
“Yeah, Joe, about that. I was thinking maybe I should head back down to California for a while. You know, spend some time with my family and take a break. It’s been a pretty exciting few months, and I thought maybe a change of scenery would be good for me.”
The words poured over Joe’s heart like a dark, rain cloud intruding on an outdoor wedding. The laughter and singing continued but he could no longer hear it.
The idea of Mel leaving had never occurred to him, but, suddenly, he had to face the realization. After all Mel was a visitor, and unexpected circumstances had snatched her, holding her captive from her own dreams. That’s it, a reluctant prisoner, finally free of a nightmarish fantasy. Of course, she wants to run, anyone would. The certainty exploded through Joe’s mind in a matter of seconds. Instantly, it was painfully clear: while he couldn’t bear the idea of her leaving, he had no right to ask her to stay.
“Joe … Joe … hello! Anyone home?”
The sound of his father’s voice appeared distant but suddenly snapped him back to reality.
“Goodness, son, where were you? You looked to be a million miles away. As I was saying, it’s one of your favorites—why don’t you ask Mel to dance?”
Joe held her close and felt the tears as they rolled onto his cheek.
“It won’t be the same, you know. The conversations will pale, the coffee won’t taste as good, and I’ll always be looking toward the door.”
The following morning, Joe found a note, slipped under the door of his coffee shop.
“I explained to Archie and Hobie that I needed some time.
They were sweet and told me they understood. I’ll call your parents from the road and tell them goodbye.
I’m sorry, Joe; I couldn’t risk seeing you again.
I will cry all the way to California, but I need to do this.
Thank you for helping me believe again,
you are my providence __________
And, Joseph Chandler, you take my breath away.”
Forever, Mel
EPILOGUE
When he looked up and saw the tears in Diva’s eyes, the moment would be forever seared in his mind.
“Joe Chandler, if you don’t go get that sweet girly girl, I just know you’ll regret it.”
He already did, and as badly as he wanted to call her, chase her, and beg her to stay, something more powerful, a voice untethered by emotion, spoke deep to the storm raging in his soul—“Peace, be still.”
The End
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Gringo Joe is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents portrayed in the story are random and often spontaneous products of the author’s vivid imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, businesses, companies, corporations, locations, or events is entirely coincidental. While the settings may reflect some of the places I have lived or traveled, I have no grievances, grudges, or axes to grind with anyone or any locale. It has been my pleasure to travel extensively, and as is my nature, I’ve looked for the best in each place, and always found it. As is the case with many fictional writers, my works blend the factual with the unimaginable in hopes of weaving an enjoyable story.
Remember, if there are lies, there is truth, if there is darkness, there is light, and if there is evil, there is goodness. There is no lie so big, no place so dark, or evil so great, that God cannot ransom you—absolutely none
JD Davis
CREDITS
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