by Aimée Thurlo
She’d check in with Del tomorrow. Maybe he’d heard something else she could use. If not, there was still another way. Plan in mind, she left Roberto’s and drove home.
* * *
The next morning, Katie walked into her kitchen. She hadn’t slept much at all last night, nothing new. Pouring herself some coffee, she glanced over and saw Brent sprawled out on the sofa. He must have gone to sleep watching TV, because the set was still on.
“Wake up, Brent,” she snapped. “You’ve got school today.”
Brent opened his eyes. “Huh? What time is it?”
“It’s six thirty. Hustle off that couch and jump into the shower. I need you awake and alert today. Something’s going down.”
“Huh?”
“Listen up, Brent. I want you to pack a bag with things you’d take on an overnight trip and keep it handy in case we have to leave town in a hurry.”
Brent sat up quickly. “What’s going on, Ma? You in trouble with the department?”
“We’re both in a shitload of trouble, Brent. I don’t have time for questions right now, just remember to keep your mouth shut around your friends. If we have to split, nobody can know about it. Before the bus comes, get your stuff together. Pack only what you can carry in your backpack so it won’t tip anyone off.”
“We’re leaving today?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ve got a plan, but if things go wrong we’ll need to move fast.”
“Is this about the drug thing?” he asked in a whisper. “I’ve been clean, honest. You told me that I wouldn’t go to jail.”
“Jail is the least of my worries right now. If we screw up now, we could both end up dead. Come straight home, don’t bring any friends over, and be ready to leave.”
“I’m so sorry I let you down, Ma. I mean it. Where are we going?” His eyes were as wide as characters in those Japanese cartoons, and she saw real fear in her child.
“I can’t say, because I don’t know yet, but it’ll be as far from here as we can go with the money I have on hand. We’ll also have to change our names, our identities. The whole nine yards.”
“Then we’ll be safe, right?”
“We can’t count on it, Brent. The people we’re running from have long memories. As long as they’re alive, we’ll have to look over our shoulders.”
“But you’re a cop. You’ve got friends who’ll watch our backs.”
“Nobody can be trusted now, Brent. All we’ve got is each other. I’m depending on you, so please don’t screw up now.” She grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, looked into his frightened face, then eased up, giving him a big hug.
“I’ve got your back, Ma,” he whispered. “Be careful today.”
Katie released him and strode out the door before he could see her tears.
* * *
Ben paced like a caged tiger around his father’s office. “If my dad hid a rug, then it’s here in the trading post. He wouldn’t have taken it home. There aren’t any secure hiding places there, and, besides, this is where he spent most of his time.”
“We’ve already looked everywhere.”
“Then we’ve missed it. Think about it, Jo. It makes even more sense if you factor in the woman we discovered taking photos of the interior of the trading post with her cell phone. She may have been working with them, and mapping out possible hiding places. Her vehicle plate was stolen, remember? And the deputies never found the blue SUV—or her.”
“I hear you, but facts are facts. We’ve inventoried everything here.”
“We inventoried the things we could find. This time let’s try to put ourselves in Dad’s place. If he’d wanted to hide something, where would he have put it? A three-by-five rug could be stashed in any number of places, and my dad could hide things better than anyone I know.”
“A rug has two minimizing shapes—rolled up like a tube, or laid flat. That should help us narrow down potential hiding places,” she said.
Jo went to the front and told the staff that Ben and she would be in the office, but didn’t want to be disturbed no matter what they happened to hear. She hadn’t considered how that sounded until she saw the surprised look on Esther’s face, Leigh Ann’s mischievous smile, Del’s grin, and Regina’s raised eyebrows.
“No, no, guys,” Jo said quickly. “We’re just looking for something that belonged to Tom and we may have to move some things around in the office. We wanted to make sure everything ran smoothly here while we took care of that other business.”
“Do what you have to, and don’t worry,” Leigh Ann said.
Moments later, Ben and Jo began searching the small eight-by-ten room. Working together from the bottom up, they left nothing unturned. Jo searched each drawer while Ben looked at the desk itself. They then tipped the safe and other furniture and looked underneath. Despite their hard work, they found nothing.
“We’ve searched behind and beneath everything in this office, Ben. If it’s in the trading post, it’s got to be in another room,” she said at last.
“No. This was his space. It’s here.” He looked up at the ceiling. It looked solid, and they’d already checked the long fluorescent light fixture. “Let me think.”
“Be reasonable. The only place we haven’t searched is inside the walls.”
He looked at her and smiled. “Brilliant. Try tapping the panels. Maybe one will slide or come loose. There’s a framework inside, which means spaces between studs.”
Once again they started on opposite corners. Jo worked her way downward toward the baseboard, tapping and listening for changes in density. As she passed the file cabinet, she heard a hollow sound. “Here—maybe. But how do we get in there?”
He tried to pry the baseboard loose, but it was nailed shut. Ben studied the paneling and found faint, vertical scratches in a few spots. “We need to go up higher, behind the wainscoting.”
“I always thought it was weird putting wainscoting in a trading post office, but your Dad said it added class to the place,” she said.
Ben brought over a chair. “These are all lightweight sections he got as payment from one of his contractor customers once.” Ben looked along the top trim, tested a small section with a tug, and it lifted right off. “It’s not nailed or glued. A dado has been cut so the trim will fit in place atop the panel.”
“A dado? You mean the notch in the bottom?” she asked.
“Yeah, sorry. Shoptalk. Woodworking shop—ninth grade.”
“So, where does that get us? The panel is screwed into place.”
“Screws and not nails? Interesting.” He tapped the panel, and one of the screws started to come loose. When he pulled at it, it came right out. “No threads. It’s a dummy.” He tugged at the one farther down and it came right out, too. “So what’s holding the panel in place, glue?”
He tugged and the panel suddenly came loose, drooping forward slightly.
“Are those magnets?” Jo pointed toward the two-by-four studs that constituted the uprights in the frame.
“Yeah. And there are metal strips glued to the inside of the panel. Here we go,” he said, lifting the thin wood panel up and out from behind the baseboard.
Beyond that were the wall studs, a lot of cobwebs, and a colorful rug wrapped in clear plastic, standing on end inside the gap. “It’s the right color and size,” Ben said, bringing it out.
Using a pair of scissors, they cut the clear tape that held the clingy plastic wrap in place. Ben held it at one end as Jo slowly unrolled the small rug. “There’s nothing in it, but it sure smells funky and feels a bit stiff and heavy.”
“I bet it’s full of cocaine,” Ben said.
“I hate to say this, but by itself, this isn’t proof of anything. They could just as easily accuse your father, or arrest us for possession of illegal drugs. Judging from the weight, there may be enough cocaine inside the weave to send us to prison for, say, twenty years,” Jo said.
“You’re right—so was León. He said we’d need that prueba too,” Ben
said.
“But if it’s something small, it could be anywhere. We could search for years and never find it.”
“Let’s wrap the rug and put it back into its hiding spot. Then we’ll look around a little longer.”
Once the rug was out of sight and the panel in place, they searched Tom’s office again. An hour later, they’d found nothing else and no more secret panels.
“Time’s slipping away from me. I don’t want to go until things are settled here, but I’ve only got sixteen days left, seventeen tops if I can reschedule my flights. For the first time in my life, I wish I could stay—for good.”
Yearnings too powerful to ignore filled her. Attachments … she’d avoided them, even though the Navajo Way taught that only by pairing could a male and a female be complete. Harmony demanded a woman’s promise and a man’s strength and power.
For the first time, she truly understood what that meant. In his arms, she’d found a place where the what-ifs of life couldn’t reach her. Nothing mattered except that incredible feeling of being wanted, of loving, and knowing there was someone who cared enough to stand beside her, no matter how rough things got. All she needed to let their future unfold was the courage to reach out to him.
Jo’s thoughts quickly melted away when she heard Regina and Leigh Ann talking just down the hall. “We need to get back out there before they start to wonder what else we’ve been up to.”
“You’re right, but not a word about what we know,” Ben warned, opening the door.
* * *
Katie pulled off to one side of the road and parked, ready to wait. She knew Del’s schedule. He took a break from work around this time of day and went home for an early dinner. Del Hudson was the key, and her only hope of finding out what was going on at that damned trading post before it was too late. Today she was going to squeeze the kid till he bled.
Katie thought back to the days when she’d been one of the good guys. If things went her way these next twenty-four hours, she’d be free of Hidalgo once and for all. Then maybe she’d be able to carve out a new life for her and Brent. Her son, for the first time, was showing some maturity, and she knew they had a chance as a family—if they could get through this last crisis.
It took over an hour, but she finally saw Del coming down the road. She ducked down, waited until he passed, then sat up, switched on her emergency lights, and pulled him over.
She climbed out of the vehicle and walked toward the operator’s side, noting the frightened look on his face. She didn’t blame him for being afraid. Things were about to get a lot worse for Del.
She stepped to the driver’s-side door and motioned for him to roll down the window. “I gave you a chance, Del, but you’ve let me down.”
“You can’t arrest me. Where’s the evidence?” he asked, a weak smile on his lips.
“Hey, smart-ass, did you really think I’d let a drug dealer completely off the hook? That bag is still in a safe place—with your fingerprints all over it. I can make your life miserable in more ways than you can count,” Katie snapped.
“You lied to me! That’s illegal.”
“No, it’s not, and don’t try to weasel out of our deal. You haven’t given me jack since our last meet—not even a call. I’m running out of patience. I’ve got a son of my own, and that’s the only reason I’m going to give you one more chance to save your ass. Give me something I can use, and I’ll square things with you.”
“But I don’t know anything!”
“Tell me, what’s been happening over at the trading post? Anything strange, or maybe just different from the routine,” Katie pressed. “Think hard, kid. This is your last chance.”
“Tom Stuart’s office,” he said after a pause. “Ben and Jo were in there most of the morning. They told us they were looking for something of Tom’s. I think they found it, too, because now they’re keeping the door locked, something they never did before. When I left, they’d gone back in there again, and I could hear a lot more noise.”
“What kind of noise?”
“They weren’t getting it on, if that’s what you’re thinking—not unless hand tools are sexual aids these days.”
“Any idea what they found, or what they’re still looking for?” Katie pressed, ignoring his comment.
“No. There aren’t any windows in that room, so unless the door’s open, it’s not like I have X-ray vision.”
“You’ve just bought yourself another few days, Del. Good job. Keep your eyes and ears open, and if you find out what they’ve been looking for, call me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And, Del, don’t go home for dinner. Turn around and get back to the trading post. Buy some cookies and pop if you’re hungry, but don’t leave again until quitting time. You’re my eyes and ears, and I need you in there. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The kid put the truck in gear and was gone as quickly as the speed limit allowed.
Katie watched him disappear down the highway in the direction of the trading post. Her instincts so far had been right on target, and it looked like things were about to come together.
After reaching for her cell phone, Katie dialed Hidalgo. “Ben Stuart and Jo Buck have found something they’re trying to keep hidden,” she said, explaining. “I can haul them to the station with me on one pretext or another right after closing time tonight. While the store is empty, you and your men can go in and get whatever you need. Take your time and go through Stuart’s old office piece by piece if you need to do that. I’ll keep Jo and Ben with me and make sure no deputies are in the area. Your men will have free access as long as they stay out of view from the highway.”
“I’ve got a better idea. Come to my office, same as before, and we’ll talk.” He hung up before she could respond.
Katie felt a tingle going up her spine. As long as Hidalgo needed her, she’d be safe enough, but the clock was ticking and she was running out of time—and hope. She’d been preparing for this moment for months now, and she was as ready as she could be.
Katie checked her watch. Knowing he’d be home by now, she dialed her son next. “Get your things ready, Brent. Put what you want in the Jeep, then go get the bag tucked under my bed.”
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“I can’t tell you now,” she whispered. “Just get the license plate I’ve been saving for emergencies and switch it with the one on the Jeep. Understand?”
“Yeah. When are you coming home?”
“I’m not sure yet. A couple of hours, maybe more. No calls to anyone—and, Brent, stay home. If any strangers show up at the door, hide. Don’t let them see or hear you.”
“But, Mom—”
“We’ve talked about this before. We have the fake plate so we can’t be traced so easily. Just do it, and be ready when I get home.”
“I won’t screw up, Mom,” came the hurried reply. “I swear. And, Mom, take care of yourself.”
Katie hung up. Maybe, just maybe, if she played her cards right, she and her son would come out of this alive.
* * *
Ben leaned back in his father’s chair. They’d run their hands over the leather and even removed the armrests, but so far they’d found nothing. “I think we should dismantle each piece of furniture in here before we move on.”
“Okay, but let me go out front and check on things. It’s past closing time, and the staff will be getting ready to leave.”
“Before they go, reassure them that nothing’s wrong.”
“In other words, lie to them,” Jo said. Before he could answer, a knock sounded at the door.
Jo opened it and found the trading post’s staff all standing there. “What’s going on, guys?” she asked, surprised.
“We know something’s up, and that it has something to do with Tom’s murder and this trading post,” Leigh Ann said. “Whether you two like it or not, that affects all of us and we want to help.” She glanced at Del, then looked back at Jo. “Del has something he needs to tell you
, too.”
Del stared at his shoes.
“Go on. Tell her what you told me,” Leigh Ann said.
“I really didn’t have a choice,” he began.
“He was being blackmailed,” Leigh Ann said.
“It’s Detective Wells,” Del said, then told them what had happened with the drugs and why he’d come back early from dinner. “I didn’t want to rat you guys out, but I didn’t know what else to do!”
Esther stepped forward. “This isn’t your fight alone, Jo. Whatever happens, we need to stand together, but you have to tell us what’s really going on.”
“You’re right. You deserve to know.” Jo told them what they’d learned about the cocaine, the rug, and the other evidence they’d yet to find. “But we’ve looked and looked, and there’s nothing else here.”
Ben invited them into the office and removed the panel. Esther gasped and Del whistled low.
Leigh Ann stepped up to the opening. “I’ve learned many things from Melvin, and one is that we should all go beyond what our eyes can see.” She reached into the hiding place and closed her eyes. “If a spider gets on me, y’all get ready, because I’ll be screaming my head off.” Leigh Ann ran her hands slowly over the interior, checking the backs of the adjoining panels and the studs.
Several moments later, after stopping once to remove a splinter, she looked over at them. “There’s something on the other side of this two-by-four.” She kept her right hand in place on the beam. “I hope it’s not a wasp’s nest, but it doesn’t feel like dried mud. It’s more squared off.”
Ben reached into the dark interior, touched Leigh Ann’s hand, then felt the blind side of the wood in the right spot as she pulled away. There was a solid, plastic object there held in place with tape.
“Where’s the flashlight?” he asked.
Del grabbed the light from atop the desk, and aimed the beam toward the spot.
After probing around with his fingertips, Ben found the end of the tape and pulled it loose. A tiny memory card inside a plastic case fell into his palm. He brought it out, and saw it had the word CANON in the upper left corner.
“This is for a pocket-sized digital camera like the one my dad sent me last Christmas. It stores videos with audio as well as photos,” Ben said.