“Since you won’t let us swim, I’m going home.” Danielle kept climbing.
“No, you’re not. Come back here.”
She pivoted, lost her balance, and plopped onto the soft sand. With strands of blonde hair half concealing her pretty face, she eyed him and pouted. Folding her arms across her chest, she thrust her chin forward.
Still reeling from the sudden rare flashback, Jay grinned at her attempt to hide her embarrassment. “You can’t go by yourself.”
“Why not, Uncle Jay? Don’t treat me like a baby. I can walk home by myself.”
“Even so, we’re staying together until your folks get back.” No way would another kid die on his watch.
Danielle huffed. “You’re always so vigilant.”
He reached the spot where she’d dropped and patted her head. “Vigilant. That’s a big word.”
“Well, I’m a big girl.”
“I know, sweetheart, and I’m sorry my vigilance bothers you. But I need to…keep everyone safe.”
Sean tugged Jay’s hand. “Go, Jay-Jay.”
“You’re right, little man. Let’s head home for a snack.” Jay helped Danielle to her feet. “Please hold your sisters’ hands.”
“OK. Sorry I was…petulant.”
Another adult word. She must be using the word a day calendar he had given her for her birthday. He favored her apology with a smile, picked up Sean, and swung him to a shoulder perch. The kid loved to ride up there where he could run his fingers through Jay’s military-short hair. To the girls he said, “You can ask your dad to bring you back to the beach later this afternoon. I’ll race you to the villa.”
Alyssa, a year older than Sean, but the same height, scurried to keep up with her dainty little steps. “We’re going to win, Uncle Jay.”
His phone beeped in his shirt pocket. He checked the screen. The name of the caller stopped him in his tracks. Kate. He hadn’t heard from her since she broke off their engagement almost a year ago. What did she want? No time to find out.
Sean squealed and dug his heels into Jay’s ribs.
The girls crossed the road.
Danielle punched in the code when she reached the gate before him.
“We won. We won.” Alyssa danced down the driveway.
“Well done, girls.”
While the gate closed, his phone rang again. He set Sean down and swiped the screen this time. “Hello, Kate.”
“I’m on my way to San Diego. Can I see you when I arrive?”
No “How are you? It’s been a while.” Did she expect him to be available whenever she asked?
“I’m in Ensenada with the family.” No explanation needed. Kate had accompanied him twice to Chuck and Beth’s beach villa on the western coast of Mexico’s Baja Peninsula.
“Oh, um…” Her voice trembled. Was she crying?
“Kate, are you all right?”
“No. I really need to see you. I don’t want to discuss anything over the phone. Can you meet me—”
“Of course.” Why did he agree? Wasn’t he over her yet? “I’ll leave as soon as I can. My sister sprained her wrist at church yesterday. It’s still swollen so Chuck took her to the clinic. They should be back any minute. Since we only have one vehicle here, I can’t leave until they return.” He ushered the kids into the marble-tiled foyer where Marta, the housekeeper, stood with hands on her hips.
“I’ve been waiting, niños. My special buñuelos are ready. Go wash your hands.” The slim, raven-haired woman tsked-tsked, following the kids down the hall. Delicious aromas of cinnamon and anise accompanied her.
“Hold on a sec, Kate.” Jay waited until the children entered the bathroom, and then said, “Do you have your passport? We can meet in Rosarito.”
“I…where is it?”
“About fifteen miles south of Tijuana. Remember the restaurant on the beach where we celebrated your promotion?”
“Yeah.” Kate sniffed. “OK. Thanks, Jay.”
“I’ll text you when I leave.” But she’d already ended the call.
Whooping and skipping with an uneven gait, Sean stormed into the kitchen.
Jay settled him at the table. When the girls were seated, Jay poured the piloncillo syrup over the flat, golden-brown treats on their plates. Absentmindedly chewing the crispy snack, Jay barely noticed the orange-flavored sticky goodness or heard the chatter around the table.
Kate. After all this time, her voice still caused his heart to lurch. Why? He didn’t regret the broken engagement. It hadn’t taken him long to appreciate they were both better off apart. Especially when he recalled her exact words. “My priorities have changed a lot since we first met. If we go our separate ways, we can both achieve our goals: a churchy life and a house full of kids for you, and a fantastic career for me.”
He drained his glass of iced tea. He could call her back and cancel their meeting. But she’d sounded distressed. Besides, she must desperately need to see him to endure the one-hundred-fifty-mile trip from Los Angeles.
3
Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. Lela slouched on the sofa and tossed her half-read mystery novel onto the coffee table. Monday afternoon hours stretched ahead like taffy on a hot summer day. She’d visited her parents. Spent the morning with nieces and nephews. Stocked her pantry and freezer. Now what?
Through reflection combined with soul-searching, she’d overcome her chagrin, and, she had to admit, her anger at being benched. She’d even acknowledged her prickly nature could be her worst enemy, but at least she knew her capabilities. And anyone she worked with would have to earn her trust. Enough introspection. She itched to be back at work with her IRO colleagues.
Energy level at maximum, she changed into shorts, T-shirt, and sneakers, and expended her built-up frustrations sparring with her favorite sixty-pound punching bag in the apartment complex’s gym. An hour later, panting and sore, she returned home to soak in a tub of jasmine-scented water. Lulled by the soothing heat, she dozed.
Her cell phone buzzed.
She jerked upright, flinging water across the bathroom.
The steady noise persisted.
She dried her hand and nabbed the phone from the mat.
Bowen.
Please don’t extend my break.
“Lela, I have a job for you.”
Whew. To mask her relief, she resorted to humor. “I thought I was persona non grata.”
“Don’t get smart with me.” He chuckled, taking the edge off his words. “I need your expertise, and most of the other agents are working a major case in Seattle. Smitty and Cooper Callahan will be available tomorrow.”
“Let me check my calendar, Mr. Boudine.” She paused and then added, “I seem to be free. What’s the assignment?”
“An abduction in Mexico. An American businessman was taken from his villa at five this afternoon.”
She checked the wall clock. Seven thirty. “Two and a half hours ago?”
“Correct. His wife panicked. She didn’t call me right away as she should have.”
“What does that mean?”
“Uh, long story. I’ll tell you later.”
Lela harrumphed. Bowen was not usually cagey. “Has she contacted the authorities?”
“No. The note she received threatened their son if she did. She called her brother, and when he didn’t answer, she called me.”
This time, Lela let Bowen’s statement slide. She’d known him long enough to trust he’d share details when necessary. “Where in Mexico? And what’s the man’s name?”
“I’ll call when I can confirm the details. Right now, I’m trying to make sense of the limited information the wife provided. I’m expecting another call from her any minute. Head south from Tijuana on the coast road.”
“I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.” Lela dried off, and dressed in operation garb—dark jeans and shirt, vest with numerous large pockets, and boots. In less than fifteen minutes, her damp hair twisted in a knot on top of her head, she bolted down the stairs t
o the garage. She stashed her go-bag—minus weapons—on the backseat of her pickup. Once across the border, she’d stop at an affiliate organization to collect a pistol and other tactical gear she might need.
Three hours. Time, the enemy. Was the victim still in Mexico? Had the kidnappers voiced their demands?
Lela sped down Interstate 805 toward Tijuana. Although late in the evening, she spent an hour waiting to cross into Mexico and then an extra thirty minutes acquiring weapons and equipment. Four and a half hours into the ordeal and no news from Bowen.
A year ago, Lela led the investigation into the kidnapping of two young American girls in Yuma, Arizona. Members of a notorious drug cartel had snatched them from their parents’ home and transported them across the border to Mexicali. IRO operatives had arrived within an hour and a half, which she believed contributed to the success of the mission. The intense confrontation with the kidnappers resulted in Smitty, a frequent IRO partner, receiving a flesh wound, the apprehension of the four thugs, and the two little girls united with their folks. Would this case end with that degree of satisfaction?
At last, Bowen called. “Where are you?”
“In Rosarito. Am I headed in the right direction?” She pulled into a gas station.
“Yeah. First of all, my sources have verified no drug cartel is involved. That’s in our favor. But I have no new details of the event. I can’t get clear information from the victim’s wife. I want you to go straight to the villa and assess the situation.”
“Roger that.” Lela stilled fingers she’d been drumming on the dashboard. “Is that all?”
“No. Remember why I grounded you. Don’t take on the investigation by yourself. Please wait for Smitty or Callahan.”
“Will do.” Lela ended the call before Bowen could chastise her further, and then entered the address he provided into her vehicle’s satellite system. Estimated time—one hour and fifteen minutes. Even with a problem-free trip, she’d arrive almost six hours after the abduction. With the lights of Rosarito fading behind her, Lela headed into the darkness.
What awaited her?
4
Jay’s two-hour meeting with Kate left him drained. His shoulders slumped as he shuffled bare feet through the sand. The cool, salty air, and the moonlight glinting off the inky waves did little to ease his heavy heart. And he was not ready to drive back to Ensenada and face an inquisition from his sister. He removed his cell from his back pocket and turned it on.
Kate had insisted they turn off their phones for the visit.
Huffing out a sigh, he hiked a hip onto a large rock. What a night. Kate looked as great as ever. Short, blonde hair—a new style and color. Her sleek black dress accentuated the curves he remembered all too well.
When she found him waiting in Café de Miguel, she gave him a hug. Exotic floral perfume tickled his nose. A year before, that same scent had enticed him to kiss her while they’d strolled on the deck of a yacht sailing to Catalina. He tugged his earlobe to silence the memory.
A young couple holding hands and laughing jogged past. Jay averted his gaze to the ocean. No more reminders. His dream of a wife and children drifted farther away than ever.
His phone rang, and he checked the screen. Ed Langley, his co-worker. Did he already have news on the bid? They’d spent two and a half weeks in the Sierra de San Pedro Mártir National Park, high in the mountains of northern Baja, scouting a location for a multi-million-dollar resort. Since Ensenada was on the way back to San Diego, Ed had dropped Jay at the beach villa. And that was only two days ago.
“Hi, bud.” Jay slid off the rock and strolled along the beach, carrying his flip-flops.
“Leon Valdez has been trying to reach you for hours.”
“Sorry. My phone was off.”
“He says we landed the job. They want us to start next month.”
Jay stepped on a broken shell and winced. “That’s good news. But remember what we discussed last week.”
“I was hoping you’d change your mind. Leon asked me to convince you to stay with the company until we complete this project.”
Veering toward the water, Jay’s feet sank into the damp sand. He stopped to allow a small wave to swish over his toes. “Sorry, Ed. I’ve made up my mind. I mailed in my official resignation yesterday.” Ed’s silence gnawed at Jay. They’d worked together at Unique Resort Planners for five years and had become fast friends. He’d agonized over his decision to leave for several months. “You know I’ve prayed about my options, and I believe the time is right. As I discussed with you, I want a job where I can use my engineering degree, the skills I acquired in the Marines, and my experience as a veteran. Assist other vets to find employment, or finance a start-up business. At least, helping people less fortunate than myself.”
“I may not like your choice, pal, but I understand. Hope Leon will, too.” Ed cleared his throat. “Setting the job aside, I hear sadness in your voice. What’s on your mind?”
Jay had never been able to fool Ed. Might as well tell him. “Uh, I had supper with Kate tonight.”
“Kate Reynolds, as in your former fiancée, Kate?”
“Yup.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“She drove down from Los Angeles to Rosarito.”
“That’s a long trip. Why did she make the effort?”
The waves became more forceful. Jay retreated to dry sand. “She wants us to get back together—”
“No.”
“Don’t panic. I’m still single. Turns out she lost her job at the talent agency in LA and is moving back to San Diego.”
“And wants to pick up where she left off. With you.”
“Yeah.” Jay recalled her tears and words of regret. But they no longer had power over him. “After listening to her all evening, it dawned on me that she was feeling sorry for herself, kinda embarrassed that she’d been fired, and wanted something, someone familiar. I told her I often pray for her, that she’ll find a good man, but that someone won’t be me.”
“Good for you for sticking to your principles.”
Jay hung his head. How could he have been so wrong in his choice for a mate? “Know what her parting words were?”
“That she was foolish for breaking off the engagement?”
“Not even close. She said she hoped I’d be happy with a churchy life.”
“Churchy?”
“That’s the word she used when she initially broke our engagement. I took it as a compliment, because it does describe my life. Studying the Bible, church attendance, prayer, helping others.”
“You deserve a churchy life—and wife, as Kate said. Nothing wrong with that.”
Jay dug his toes into the sand.
Neither spoke for a couple of seconds. Then Ed changed the subject. “Are you driving back to Ensenada tonight?”
“I don’t know what I’ll do. At the moment I’m squishing sand between my toes. I might spend the night in Rosarito and then return in the morning. Chuck won’t need his vehicle before then.”
“Don’t lose any sleep over Kate. Enjoy your vacation, and when you get back, we can discuss your possible departure from the firm.”
“See you in ten days.” Jay ended the call to halt further discussion regarding his decision. He noted the city lights in the distance. Must be a mile or more away. As he hiked toward the restaurant and the SUV, his phone rang again. Beth.
“Hey, sis—”
“Are you still with Kate? Why didn’t you respond to my messages?”
A ripple of fear slithered across his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“Chuck’s been kidnapped.”
5
Three shadowy figures closed in on Lela’s position. She held still as death. If the men found her, they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. Her scars itched, but she couldn’t rub them. Instead, she mentally repeated the words that sustained her in dangerous situations. I am in control. He can never hurt me again. I have the skills to keep myself safe. The quivering in
her leg muscles subsided.
One of the men stopped.
Lela edged sideways behind the stout trunk of a human-sized cactus. Too close. Efficient as a scalpel, the stiff spines drew drops of blood that oozed down to her wrist. She bit her lip and made a fist.
“Shoulda brought a flashlight,” someone with a gravelly voice whispered.
Heavy footsteps slowed.
Sweat beads stung Lela’s eyes. She dared not wipe them away.
“Are you sure you saw something suspicious?” another person said.
“Yeah.”
“You need glasses, ’cause all I hear is night critters. Come on. Let’s get back to the house.”
Seconds stretched into minutes before the men shuffled away. Their muffled voices faded into the warm, starless night.
Lela’s jaw ached. She relaxed her clenched teeth and peeked out.
A dim light silhouetted three bulky shapes on the front porch of the ranch house. One man circled to the rear while the others entered the house, and lights popped on inside the home.
She filled her lungs, blew air out of her mouth, and then wiped her bloody forearm on her jeans. One against three? Should she continue her search? Bowen’s admonition speared her conscience, but she had to follow the sole lead before the trail grew cold. She could text him vital details she’d gathered at the villa. The oldest Davenport daughter had identified the thugs’ vehicle, and she understood their Spanish enough to name the area where they were headed. But Lela hadn’t confirmed these men were the abductors. She must investigate further. Surely, Bowen would understand. Lela had no choice. She couldn’t wait hours for backup. Energized by conviction, she crept as quiet as fog along the barbed wire fence and followed the route one man had taken.
Voices murmuring in Spanish drew her to a shack a hundred yards from the house. Two men leaned against the wooden structure, discussing the gringo.
Day of Reckoning Page 2