by Billy Kring
“Any more treading and I’d be a floater.”
They slipped into the boat and roared toward the marina where Norma had parked her pickup. Norma said, “The authorities will be waiting.” She glanced at Anita’s small form and said, “Her mother will be there, too.”
“Okay.” She saw Norma’s look, “That’s good, right?”
“This child is the daughter of Ramona Chapa.”
“Spit it out, Norma.”
“Ramona’s husband is Solomon Chapa, the rising Cartel boss of the Acuña area. The previous one died of lead poisoning.”
“Chapa?”
“That’s what everybody thinks.”
Hunter thought about it, “All we did was rescue his daughter. We aren’t looking to ransom her. We’re the good guys in this, remember?”
Norma rounded a large, sage-covered hill that stood out of the water like the round back of some gray beast, and they arrived at the marina. Three men waited on shore, and one incredibly beautiful woman.
“Hunter, do not pick a fight with that woman. You might get killed on the spot if you do. I’m serious.”
Norma docked the boat and they walked the pier to the group, with Anita walking beside Hunter, holding her hand, which Hunter liked.
Ramona and a lean man of about thirty, who looked like he was ex-military met them before they reached the Sheriff’s Deputies. The deputies held back, staying on the parking area asphalt. Ramona said, “I’m told that you rescued my Anita, saved her from drowning.”
“Norma and I did.”
She studied both of us, “Solomon, my husband, tells me that the reason Anita almost died was because of you two. You caused it.”
Hunter bristled, “The hell we did. Anybody, and I mean anybody, that says different is a damn liar.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man cover his mouth to hide a smile, and despite her anger, Hunter smiled at him, a tiny one, and gone in an instant, but he saw it.
Ramona noticed the interplay between the two. She said, “So this is a joke to all of you. My daughter is taken from the street and you consider it a joke.”
The man said, “Ramona, you know that’s not true. Think about it for a minute and you’ll see she’s right.”
Norma bowed up as well, “Anita was in Mexico, with you, and someone kidnapped her, then somehow slipped across the border. We saw a wet hair dye smeared on the window and that Anita was unconscious. When they realized what we saw, they tried to outrun us. When they couldn’t do that, they stopped on the bridge and tossed Anita over the rail. Hunter jumped off that high, damned bridge and saved her. That’s what happened, nothing else. If you heard different, you heard wrong.”
Ramona looked at Hunter, “You are Hunter Kincaid, of the Border Patrol?”
“Yes, and Norma is also Border Patrol.”
“She is stationed here. You, you are from farther west, yes?”
“Big Bend.”
Ramona nodded, “Your name is known here.” She paused and said, “I will talk to you again.’ She looked at Hunter, “Don’t leave the area.”
Hunter said, “I’ve got another week of fishing to do, so I’ll be around for that long. After that, you’ll have to hunt me up because I’m not hanging around waiting on you.”
Ramona looked hard at her for a moment, then turned to leave. Hunter said, “That shirt Anita’s wearing is mine.”
Ramona fingered Anita’s oversized tee shirt, then nodded at the young man, who raised an eyebrow. Ramona said, “Cinco.” The young man took out five one-hundred dollar bills from his wallet and handed it to Hunter.
Hunter said, “Have you got a twenty?”
The young man smiled, pulled a twenty from his pocket and gave it to Hunter, who returned the five hundred dollars. Hunter also noticed the Sig-Sauer pistol on his hip when the lightweight jacket moved.
Ramona said, “You’ve made certain I don’t forget you, but walk softy, Hunter Kincaid. You’re toying with people you know nothing about.” She gave Hunter a hint of a smile, then left, followed by her bodyguard. Anita looked over her mother’s shoulder and gave a tiny wave, and Hunter waved back.
Norma said, “I almost had a heart attack when you smarted off to her.”
Hunter said, “I don’t know all the bad guys around here.”
The deputies came towards them to ask their questions. The women finally got out of there after two hours of repetitious questions that saw the sun set before they finished.
Norma asked, “You still up for Memo’s?”
“I’m bushed.”
“Let’s grab a Whataburger and call it a day. We can curl up on the couch at the house and watch movies.”
“Deal.”
Norma drove through the drive-through and ordered two What-a-meals with jalapenos on the burgers, and with Dr. Peppers to drink. As they pulled away with their food, Hunter asked, “We’re going to try again?”
“You bet, and we’ll go early.”
“How early?”
“Five AM. That should get us on the water by 5:30 and fishing the sweet spots thirty minutes later.”
Hunter nodded, “That sounds good.”
They reached Norma’s nice brick home in Ceniza Hills and settled in on the couch with burgers and fries as Norma flipped through Netflix for something to watch, settling on a new movie.
Two hours later, Hunter turned in and slept like a log.
Chapter 2
The next morning, they left the house on time and were fishing in one of Norma’s sweet spots before 6AM. Talk about a good day, they caught fish after fish, and everything from catfish to bass to crappie. By the time they finished, they had filleted enough fish to fill an igloo cooler. The last of the sun dropped below the horizon as Norma pulled into the drive at her house, where a young woman sat on the front steps.
Hunter asked, “She a friend of yours?”
Norma said, “Nope.”
They exited the pickup and the woman stood, dusting off the front of her skirt, “Ms. Kincaid?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Anna Hoyt.” She had the look of someone defeated, worn down, but still attractive. Not beautiful, but cute in a country girl way with a faint dust of light freckles across her nose and cheeks.
“What can I do for you, Anna?”
She touched Hunter’s forearm, and she choked up from emotion, but she didn’t cry, “Please…find my daughter. I think you’re the only one who would care enough to do it. She was kidnapped in Mexico two days ago, just like the girl you saved.” She handed Hunter a photo of a cute, smiling child of eleven with chestnut hair, a light smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose, and large blue eyes that showed intelligence, and a little toughness in the face.
“This is my Kelly, she’s eleven.”
Hunter was tired and sunburned, ready to call it a day, but the look on the woman’s face touched her. Hunter said, “You’re coming to the wrong person, I’m with the Border Patrol. You need the police and the Sheriff’s department. Have you talked to them?”
“Yes, the first thing I did.”
“They’re good at their jobs. I hope you find your daughter.”
“Please.”
Hunter felt the woman’s anguish and she stopped. “Come with us so we can talk.”
They led her into Norma’s living room, where they sat as Norma made coffee.
Hunter said, “Tell me what happened.”
Anna said, “I was across the border in Acuña, shopping. Things are a lot cheaper over there. We don’t have much money, and we were on the main street when she disappeared.”
Hunter said, “Did you contact the Mexican authorities?”
“Yes. They were polite, but didn’t seem interested.”
“Maybe she wandered off?”
“No, absolutely not. I held her hand for all but a few seconds, and she was taken in those few seconds.”
“I’ll call some people, see if they can help.”
“Please hurry. I
heard about what you did, saving that other child and I thought…maybe you could find her.”
“I’ll make some calls.” Hunter took Anna’s phone information and shook her hand, telling her she hoped everything would be all right. Anna declined the coffee as Norma brought the carafe and cups into the room.
“I’m sorry to bother you.” She walked away, shoulders slumped, clutching her imitation leather purse in front of her with both hands. She barely held it together, looking like fate had kicked all the heart right out of her. They could tell that it took everything in her will to keep walking.
What do you say to someone in a situation like that, Hunter thought. It had been pure luck that they found Anita and rescued her for Ramona. She watched Norma let Anna out the front door, then thought about who she could call, and if it would do any good at all. Abducted in Mexico? God-o-mighty. The child might as well be on Mars now, and that thought made her uneasy.
Hunter didn’t sleep much that night, tossing and turning because she couldn’t stop thinking about Anna Hoyt’s abducted child. The image of Kelly floated in her mind as she imagined the girl being taken off the streets, and what might happen to Kelly afterward…
The next morning Hunter awoke and stumbled into the kitchen, where Norma sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and eating a Pop Tart. She said, “What were you doing in your bedroom last night, wrestling grizzly bears?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Hunter poured herself coffee, added cream and sugar, and took a cold Pop Tart out of the pack, nibbling off a corner as she sat down.
“That girl, huh? Kelly.”
“Yeah.”
Norma took a large bite off her pastry, chewed, then said, “That’s not what we do. That’s police business.”
“I know, and I’m not charging off on it. I’ll make a call or two, that’s all.”
“Good, eat your Pop Tart, then we’ve got errands to run.”
“Like what?”
“Buy the supplies for a big fish fry tonight. We’re entertaining.”
“Here? No offense, but your house isn’t very big.”
“We’ll have it at the Broke Mill RV Park. The couple that owns it are good people. They said we could do it all there, and they would even get a local band to play music in case anyone wanted to dance.”
“That’s generous.”
“I told you, they’re nice people.”
Finishing up their makeshift breakfast and coffee, they hopped into Norma’s pickup and drove first to the H.E.B. grocery store, where they took two shopping carts and Norma’s list on her iPhone, and made passes up and down every aisle in the store, which wasn’t crowded this morning, to Hunter’s relief. She hated to shop when it was crowded.
They checked out and drove to the Apache Meat Market to buy some meats to cook, so those that didn’t like fish would have something to eat as well. The last stop was at the Walmart Supercenter that had all the paper products, soft drinks, sweet tea in gallon jugs, and red Solo cups they would need, then made it to the Broke Mill to set up the fish fryer and grill.
A dozen people showed up to help arrange and prepare things, with one woman from Comstock named Susie, who was funny and smart and made the best hush puppies from scratch that Hunter had ever eaten. Her husband, Pancho, made a special dry coating for the fish fillets that was mouth-watering, and the men continually asked him for his recipe, to which he smiled and said, “How about those Cowboys?”
With music playing and people in various stages of eating, cooking, dancing, talking, or cleaning, the night felt like a success to Hunter. She watched Norma flirting with one tall, good-looking cowboy, and a dozen others came by to ask Hunter to dance, which she did. Several of them were great partners on the floor, and with the band playing everything from The Killers to George Strait to Waylon, there were plenty of songs to choose from.
Toward the end of the night, when most people were leaving and only a few diehards left, Hunter noticed someone out in the parking area. He gave her a casual wave and remained standing there, apart from the few vehicles left. She felt her neck hairs prickle.
It was the young, good-looking man who had been with Ramona the day when they returned Anita to her. The bodyguard.
Hunter felt anger heating up inside like a smoldering coal when someone blows on it. How dare he come to their party and spy on her? She walked to a locked closet, opened it with Norma’s key, and slipped on her fringed leather jacket, patting the pocket to make sure the small Glock was there. She left the area and fast-walked into the parking lot to face him.
He stood relaxed, making small body movements in time with the band’s music, and as Hunter drew closer, said, “Smells good. You make some ceviche, too?”
Hunter stopped six feet from him, “I didn’t get your name earlier when we met.”
“They call me Ike, short for Issac.”
“Well, Ike, what do you want? You don’t have any friends in this crowd, so what is it?”
“You.”
“I’m right in front of you.”
“What it is, Ramona wants to see you.”
Hunter leaned sideways from the waist in exaggerated movements to look behind him, “I don’t see her. Too bad, we’ll have to make it another time.” She turned and walked toward the party.
“It’s about some missing children. Abducted kids, like Anita was.”
That stopped Hunter. She returned to Ike, “I’m listening.”
“Ramona has the info, not me. I can take you to her, or you can say where you’d like to meet. Only it has to be in Mexico.”
“Why? She obviously has a border crossing card.”
“She’s a United States citizen, born in Socorro, New Mexico.”
“So, why doesn’t she come over here?”
Ike said, “She feels safer in Mexico.”
“After Anita was taken?”
“That won’t happen again. I’m staying close.”
Hunter appraised Ike. “You that good?”
“Por supuesto, for sure.”
“You’re confident, I’ll say that.”
“Unless Ramona tells me she doesn’t want me around for something, I’ll be close enough to tousle Anita’s hair.”
“I’ll bet Anita is happy about that.”
Ike smiled, “She keeps telling Ramona, ‘I want Miss Hunter’.”
That touched Hunter, but she didn’t let it show. “Give me your phone number. I’ll text you as to where. I’m not from around this area, so I’ll bring my friend, too.”
“The other Border Patrol Agent.”
“Yep.”
Ike took out a small, three-by-five spiral notepad, wrote on it and ripped the paper from the wire spirals before giving it to her.
“You carry that note pad all the time?”
“I do. Old habit.”
“Old school.” She glanced at the paper and slipped it into her jacket pocket as she studied him, “Where are you from? You don’t have an accent.”
“Benavides, Texas.”
“And you’re working for the Cartel?”
“I’m not working for the Cartel, I’m working for a man, Solomon Chapa. I’m not the only one who does this. But what I do has nothing in common with drugs or smuggling. I protect people.”
“I guess you weren’t with Anita when she was taken, then.”
“I wasn’t.”
Hunter pulled out the slip of paper and studied it. “Just your phone number, that’s not much.”
Ike half-smiled, “What’d you want, a biography?”
“That would be nice.” Hunter tore off the bottom half and wrote her cell number on it, then handed that part to Ike.
Ike held his hand to his ear in a call me motion and said, “When you’re ready to do this.” He gave her a small nod and walked in the direction of several vehicles.
Norma arrived to stand beside her, “That who I think it was?”
“Uh-huh. Name’s Ike. He said Ramona Chapa wants to talk and give me
information on some kidnappers or something like that.”
“Huh. If you decide to do it, pick a public place on this side of the river. I’ll go with you.”
“It won’t be on this side, but thanks.”
“I’ll go with you anyway.”
Norma continued to watch Ike until he drove off in a black Ford 250, then said, “I know he’s one of the bad guys, but he sure looks fine, both coming and going. You see his butt?”
Hunter play-socked her on the shoulder and Norma, grinning, rubbed where she was hit. Hunter said, “I’m not blind.”
The next morning as they again boated on the lake and fished for several hours in several spots without luck, Norma said, “Ready to call it a day? Nothing’s biting.”
“I didn’t even see a minnow when I tossed out some bread. It’s time for lunch anyway.”
“Done.” Norma powered the boat to the loading ramp at the marina and they loaded up the boat on the trailer, then towed it to the storage facility and put it in the rental shed before driving into Del Rio to find something to eat. Norma said, “I think that tomorrow we’ll go out and just cruise around the lake, get some sun, do some swimming.”
“Works for me. I even brought an extra bathing suit.”
Hunter’s phone rang as they entered the Del Rio city limits. She looked at the ID and said, “It’s Ike.”
She answered, “What’s up?”
“We need to meet in Acuña. Ramona says it needs to be soon.”
“What happened?”
“Solomon’s keeping her close.”
Something’s going on. Hunter sat up straighter, “Why?”
“Because he said so,” Ike let Hunter think about the implications of that.
“Because he’s her husband?”
“And because he’s had people killed for disagreeing with him. Nobody’s bulletproof in his world, except maybe him. Plus, he’s still furious with Ramona because she let their daughter get abducted. He’s angry and short-tempered with everyone right now because he’s cash-strapped from fighting for control of the Cartel’s area, bleeding money like it was an arterial wound. He’s desperate for funds and willing to do anything to get some.” He sighed, “So, you want to meet her or not?”