A few thoughts of my deceased husband crossed my mind, but they left just as quickly.
“I had a feeling you didn’t know about it. Mom tends to keep everything inside. But…well, I just wanted you to know.”
“Thanks for telling me, Corey.”
“So, to make all of this a little more positive, I’d be happy to help out tomorrow. I’m not working or anything. And Erin and Luke seem pretty cool.”
I raised my glass. “I’ll take you up on the offer. Thanks.”
Then I reminded myself to talk to Erin to ensure she didn’t view Tall, Dark, and Hairy as anything more than a cousin or brother. And that might not be an easy conversation.
10
Archie arrived at Teresa’s house before the kids had awakened with a smile on a his face and a large coffee in hand.
I returned the smile so I could accept the shot of java without any guilt. We then drove just over twenty miles southwest from Port Isabel. I’d forgotten how many palm trees were in Brownsville, the biggest city in the Valley at just under two hundred thousand residents. While a good part of the Valley had been through its share of heartaches over the years, unemployment leading the list of woes, Brownsville had grown, some from fellow Texans looking for warm days and low cost of living, and the rest from simple commerce. It was a major crossing point into Matamoras, Mexico, both for trade as well as college kids looking for a little more freedom in the partying department. At least that was my recollection from a number of years back.
“You think he’s going to sit in his car all day?”
Sitting behind the wheel of his rented blue Camaro with two white stripes stretching up the hood—Archie apparently had a thing for Camaros or a man-crush on the guys who starred in Hawaii Five-O—he lifted his mirrored sunglasses. The lenses were as big as two saucers; he looked ridiculous.
We eyeballed the idle vehicle we had tailed into downtown Brownsville.
“I’m skeptical,” he said.
“You just used a three-syllable word. Have you been reading something other than porn magazines?” A smile emerged from my lips as I kept my gaze on the car with a cracked side-view mirror.
He shifted his eyes to me, then back to the subject of our surveillance, Ricardo Bolivar, the so-called Powder Man, if we were to believe Raul’s undercover agent. Archie decided to ignore my jab. “This guy could be a new player in the party drug scene in South Texas, yet he drives a rusted Monte Carlo where the bumper is peeled off. On top of that, from looking at this mug shot Raul sent you…” he tapped his phone three times, then angled it to me, “…this guy looks like he spends all of his time playing Dungeons and Dragons, or whatever game young people play today.”
“That picture is ten years old,” I said. “Taken when he was arrested for driving under the influence of marijuana.”
“And that’s his only offense?”
“The only one he’s been arrested for, yes. Raul reminded me that the people you least think could be drawn into the criminal web of drugs are sometimes the most egregious offenders.”
“Could be,” Archie said as if I didn’t understand Raul’s qualifier.
Damn, he could be annoying.
I took the phone from Archie and examined the photo, then peeked out the window and studied the profile of the man sitting in the front seat of the Monte Carlo. I then looked back at the photo. Same jawline, but it was more pronounced. From what I could see of his hair, it was black, stringy, with uneven ends. And then there was his hump nose.
I pointed at the nose. “At least we have the right guy. Can’t mistake that nose,” I said.
He nodded. “But what’s his play? His sitting in his piece-of-shit car with it running?”
“We’ve got movement.” I inched up in my bucket seat.
Bolivar opened a newspaper, then moved it back about a foot from his face. “He needs readers,” I said.
“Wonder if that’s a sign.”
“That he needs readers?”
“No, silly. He might be sending some type of message to someone who’s looking at him. Crap, I think we’ve been fingered.” He twisted his torso left and right. I followed suit, just in case I’d missed someone walking up behind us through my passenger-side mirror.
“I only see regular folks walking the street, although I know any of them could be involved,” I said, suddenly paranoid about every little old lady, or mom walking behind a stroller. I even did a double take on a man in a wheelchair.
“You never know who’s watching us from the second floor of one of these buildings.” Archie leaned forward while removing his glasses, craning his neck to look upward. Just then, a piece of bird crap splattered on the windshield, just above his watchful eyes. He jerked his head and rammed it into the rearview mirror.
“Fuck! Damn birds only target my car since it’s the cleanest one in Brownsville.”
“Murphy’s law. I guess you didn’t know that, because Brownsville has so many water reservoirs, it’s become a key nesting area for all types of birds.”
Archie couldn’t be bothered with reasoning. He was too focused on righting the wrong. He twisted a lever. Fluid sprayed across the windshield, and wipers swooshed back and forth. But it didn’t net the desired result. A smear of drying crap arched across our vision.
“That’s what happens in the hot Texas sun.”
“Now I can’t see shit!” he declared, shifting his head up and down.
“That’s all you can see,” I said with a chuckle.
“Very funny, Special Agent Troutt.”
We traded knowing grins, then I downed the rest of my coffee and set the empty in the cup holder.
Just then, the Monte Carlo door swung open, and Bolivar exited, leaving the crumpled newspaper behind him. He had on a frayed, gray T-shirt that barely reached his thin waist. His hairy legs looked like pencils under his sagging denim shorts. He adjusted his sunglasses, looked up and down the street, then walked over to the curb, through an area full of outdoor tables covered by umbrellas, and then inside a café.
“He’s probably meeting someone inside,” Archie said with one hand on his door handle.
“You don’t think you’re going in after him, do you?”
“Can’t let him get away.”
“You don’t exactly blend in with the locals, Archie. You look like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket. On top of that, your glasses aren’t subtle. They’re something out of a 1980s cop show.”
He swatted a hand my way. “Eh, you’re just not into looking cool, Alex.”
“Not your kind of cool.”
He popped the handle on his door and leaned out.
“Give it a few minutes, will you? This is surveillance only. We just want to see where he goes, who he talks to. I doubt he’ll take us right to Kyle Spencer, but if he talks to anyone, then we can take some pictures and see if the Boston team can help us make a connection.”
He shut the door. “All right.” He propped his fist under his chin like a kid who’d just been rebuked. Which he was.
A couple of cars with missing mufflers sped by us, leaving a plume of gray smoke we could smell inside the air-conditioned car.
“Damn teenagers,” Archie said as he quickly moved to switch the AC to recycle.
A minute later, a middle-aged woman walked by with what I presumed to be her son and daughter. The boy had on a Los Angeles Dodgers cap, and the girl kept a stuffed tiger nestled against her neck. They were all laughing about something. I figured they were on vacation.
I thought about my conversation with Erin earlier in the morning.
“So you do know that Corey is six years older than you?” I had whispered while sitting on the edge of her bed.
She wiped her eyes and squinted from the morning sun shooting through the slats of the blinds.
“Mom, I’m not sure why you’re telling me something I already know,” she said with her typical early-morning hoarse voice.
“Sweetie, I’m not blind or s
tupid. Corey is a good-looking young man, and I know you see that. You should just view him as more of a cousin or big brother.”
I knew I needed to figure out a way to approach Teresa about the touchy subject of the tragic death of her daughter. Until then, I didn’t want to burden Erin with it.
Erin coughed out a laugh. “Mom, to be honest with you, I thought Corey was gay.”
“Gay!”
“Shh,” she said, as if she was the mom.
“I don’t think he’s gay, but if that works for you…”
“Like you said, he’s a hunk, but I was only talking to him at the beach because of what his major is in college. Marine biology sounds cool, at least at this stage of high school.”
College boy crush had been averted.
A laser beam of sun pierced my eye, and I held up my hand. The rays had reflected off the side mirror, and I scooted as much as I could to the left.
“Too bad we don’t have bench seats.” Archie removed his sunglasses so I could see him pop his manscaped eyebrows.
“In your dreams, buddy.”
“Actually, my dreams have been very focused on one hot Latin diva the last couple of nights.”
He used the controls on his door to angle the passenger-side mirror so that the sun wouldn’t shine in my eyes. “Thanks. I almost forgot to ask—how did your conversation with Cynthia go last night?”
He winced, which made him look constipated. It wasn’t pretty.
“Not well? Is she pissed at you for asking questions about where she was two nights ago?”
“Not exactly.”
I tried to lock eyes with him, but he kept his focus on the café.
“What do you mean by ‘not exactly’?”
“Well, we talked, and…I didn’t quite get to the tough questions.”
“What questions did you ask her?”
“If she wanted to meet up for drinks tonight.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up a finger.
“I’ve got an out. She said she had something to talk to me about. So, I didn’t want to freak her out. I figured I’d go, listen to her—”
“And melt from looking into her big, brown eyes,” I said.
“She is kind of like Medusa, minus the part about turning me into a statue.”
“Is Archie smitten?”
His cheeks turned pink. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably just love at first bite.”
“You mean sight. Love at first sight.”
“That too.” He winked at me.
“I don’t want to burst your love bubble, but you do realize she could be a key person in Kyle’s disappearance? In fact, you might be in danger just by bringing up this topic to her.”
“I’ll be fine. I know the boys said Cynthia is a carbon copy of the lady they saw that night getting into the Mercedes, minus the mole, but whether it’s the mole or just knowing her the way I do, I’d bet my CIA pension it’s not her.”
Archie had known her for less than seventy-two hours and he was acting like they’d been married for ten years. Maybe three days was ten years in Archie Land.
He opened his center console and pulled out a pair of miniature binoculars and put them up to his eyes.
“See anything?”
“A few people standing in line, some sitting down and talking, but I don’t see our Powder Man. I can’t see the entire space all that well. He could have escaped out the back.”
I pondered that thought. “Only if he knew we were following him. But if he is at the center of this possible extortion, drug thing, then he certainly wouldn’t worry about leaving a crappy car behind.” I picked up my phone and found the records I received the night before. “Then again, according to information that Gretchen pulled late last night, Bolivar has been living at the same one-story residence for four years. Tax records value the home at ninety-seven thousand. Very modest, even by Valley standards.”
I glanced up. As if on cue, Bolivar came out of the café with a can of soda and a small plate of food. He sat down at a black wrought-iron table under the shade of a large, blue umbrella. He looked up and down the sidewalk as he drank from his can.
“He’s expecting somebody,” I said, leaning a little closer to the window.
Bolivar reached behind his back and pulled out a curled-up magazine.
“He’s like a magician. I never saw that magazine when he went in,” I said. “Can you tell the name of it?”
Archie adjusted the focus on the binoculars. “Looks like Dave Campbell’s Texas Football. An Aggie and a Longhorn are on the cover.”
I nodded. “It’s the early preview of this fall’s football season for all the high schools and colleges in Texas. I think Dad has every one that’s ever been published.”
“Wonder if it’s another signal.”
“It’s possible. But he could just be into football and wanted to read his magazine while he ate.”
I reached to the side of my seat and leaned it back a few inches, trying to find a comfortable angle. “How many surveillance assignments have you been on?”
“A hundred or more.”
“A hundred, huh? Has it been a while?”
“Since I had sex, yeah. Why do you think I’m chasing Cynthia like a dog in heat?”
“TMI, Archie. Has it been a while since you’ve worked surveillance? Most of the time, it’s boring as hell and we don’t get anything on the suspect.”
He lowered his binoculars and gave me a look of indignation. “I’m not naïve,” he said slowly, as he played more with the settings on the glasses. “But I’ve got a feeling about this one.”
A few minutes passed, and I checked my watch. Just after two in the afternoon. I didn’t want to burden Corey too much with watching Erin and Luke, plus I still needed to find time with my dad to discuss Carly and how she could possibly be connected to the drive-by shooters. I needed data, though. I knew it would get emotional, heated even, if I didn’t have something to back up my theory. And the video would only do me so much good. I sent a group text to the Boston gang.
Anything turn up on Carly?
A moment later, my phone buzzed. I looked down at the text.
I miss your lips
My heart skipped a beat as I poked and padded at the phone. “Please tell me he didn’t send a group text,” I said rapidly.
“Who did what?” Archie asked.
“Nothing.” I scrolled up and found Brad’s name only. I exhaled loudly. Then I considered his text for a moment. He was thinking about me. I thought about how to reply, and then I typed in the following:
Believe me, I’m the one missing out. Wish you were here with us.
I tapped ‘send,’ then returned my focus to the café.
My phone buzzed twice in about ten seconds.
“Oh shit.”
“What now?” Archie asked.
I spotted the header of the text and realized I had sent my text to the entire group. Then, Gretchen replied with a quick question.
Who are u sending this to?
I could feel tension shoot through my shoulders and into my neck. I put a hand on the phone, but before I could figure out a witty response, Nick chimed in.
Wish I was at the beach too, but not with you guys. Sorry. Think you meant this for someone else. Who could that be???? Gang, we’ve got another mystery to solve.
“Spiraling out of control,” I said as if the secrecy dam of my relationship with Brad had just cracked more holes than I had fingers.
“Kid issues?” Archie asked.
“Uh…no. I wish.”
“Oh. There’s only one other kind, and I figured you were still on the sidelines.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I ignored Archie’s comment and stared at the phone, afraid to touch it, that it might blow up in my face. It kind of already had.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was Brad…in the group text.
Just what we need, another mystery. We’re already doing two jobs for you, Alex. Now yo
u’re going to drag us into another one. Oh well…just another day at the office.
I exhaled, and my shoulders dropped a couple of inches. I couldn’t believe how much stress I felt by being outed in my relationship with Brad. Did that mean I was embarrassed by him? Did I think my feelings for him were nothing more than a schoolgirl crush that would pass as soon as the next warm front blew in? I wiped my face with both hands, wondering if I truly needed this relationship drama in my life.
Another buzz from my phone. I looked down to see it was Brad again, but I noticed it was sent directly to me.
I bet ur stressed by the text messages. Just know that I’m ok with us being a secret. One day we can hopefully take that next step. Enjoy the time with Erin and Luke. Thinking of u.
Just when I thought I’d been dreaming up all these feelings I had toward him, he came back with that sweet message. I couldn’t deny the strange sensation inside—a mixture of unbridled excitement and comfort. Being desired and cared about didn’t hurt my self-esteem, that was certain. And I couldn’t stop thinking about him, our magnetism. Then why was I afraid to come out of the closet?
I looked up just as someone smacked a flyer on Archie’s windshield. He cracked the door and pulled the purple piece of paper inside. He hollered to the guy, who was walking away, “I saw the sign earlier. Don’t mess with Texas. That means stop littering, buddy.”
Once the door was shut, he said, “You and the kids thought about going to the Brownsville Zoo?”
“Not really. Why?”
“Apparently, they have some special exhibit of cougars that are on loan from the DC zoo, and it’s a big deal.”
Archie nailed it, for once. I felt like a frickin’ cougar with Brad. That was my embarrassment. People would probably look at me as more of his mom than his girlfriend. I could feel my shoulders stiffen. I rubbed the back of my neck and tried to stretch my arm across my body. Anything to loosen the muscles.
“Want me to tie your arms in a knot? I’ve seen a chick do that once before,” Archie said.
“No thanks,” I said, realizing my stomach felt like I’d swallowed a small hairball. But why? I’d finally identified my apprehension. Outside of the age factor, Brad had shown to be a great match for me. He was kind, considerate of my feelings and to mankind in general. He connected with the kids well, and I had to admit, he was the most desirable man I’d ever laid eyes upon. His soft, gentle kiss while I gripped his rippled arms and shoulders literally gave me the goosies.
The Alex Troutt Thrillers: Books 4-6 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set Book 2) Page 12