The resort’s cadre of security guards wore pristine white uniforms. The gunmen riding ATVs on the beach were dressed in army-issue camouflage and carried AK-47s instead of walkie-talkies.
Verity let out a nervous laugh. “They’re here to protect us. As you may know, Mexico is home to several drug cartels. One of the most powerful, the Jaguars, calls Cancún home.”
“Should I be concerned for my safety?”
“Of course not. It’s perfectly safe. If it wasn’t, the owners and management of SOS Tours would never have decided to put its brand on the line by coming here. There are dozens of hotel properties lining the beach and I can honestly say there’s never been an incident.”
Finn looked at the string of multimillion-dollar hotels that stretched as far as the eye could see and the hundreds, if not thousands of tourists cavorting in the sun, seemingly without care.
“That’s comforting.”
“The guards patrol the beach around the clock,” Verity said. “They may move from one end to the other from time to time to check things out, but they’re always around just in case.”
Finn felt the butterflies in her stomach flap their wings a little harder. “It’s the ‘just in case’ that worries me.”
❖
Luisa cranked up the air conditioner and stripped down to her tank top after she finished lugging the last of six oversized boxes up the four flights of stairs to her apartment overlooking Republic Square, the home of the Monument to the Revolution. Her heart pounded in her chest and her head swam as she struggled to readjust to the thin air of her nation’s capital.
“I’ve been out of the country too long.”
She had been staying with her parents since she got out of the army. Texas was much too flat to compete with Mexico City’s altitude.
“I should have organized a moving party,” she said breathlessly as she surveyed the hours of work that needed to be done before she could pronounce her new surroundings livable. Except her family lived in Dallas now, and her friends were split between Juárez, where she had grown up, and Guadalajara, where she used to serve. For the first time in her life, she was on her own. “Looks like I have to get used to my own company for a while.”
The thought of spending the coming days and, possibly, weeks alone made her think of Finn traveling the world by herself and detailing her adventures for readers eager to live vicariously through her.
Luisa located the Porky Pig figurine Finn had given her in Dallas and set it on the coffee table. Seeing the toy reminded her of Finn and the brief time they had spent together that afternoon. It also made her long for more. Was Finn enjoying her latest outing, she wondered, or was she itching for something more exciting than free drinks and poolside party games?
Luisa was tempted to call her, but reaching out this soon could be considered a sign of desperation, loneliness, or both. So far, only one of those adjectives applied. She didn’t want to go for two. So she busied herself putting her apartment in order and hoped her life would follow suit.
She wasn’t used to being without a support system. She always had her parents, extended family, or friends around to talk her through a crisis or to celebrate her latest achievement. But things were different now. Now she had enemies on both sides of the law gunning for her. All because she had dared to try to change the status quo.
Drug kingpins, commonly referred to as narcos in Mexico, routinely paid off local, state, and federal officials, as well as journalists and ordinary citizens, to curry favor or facilitate their efforts to conduct their illegal trade. Some recipients of the bribes weren’t given a choice as to whether to take the substantial sums they were offered. Their lives, as well as the lives of their friends and family members, were threatened if they tried to hold out.
Luisa’s commanding officer, however, had been all too willing to receive the weekly payoffs. He had taken the envelopes with a smile on his face and purchased all sorts of expensive toys with his ill-gotten gains. A fancy car, an expensive house, and a luxurious watch, for starters. Three things he wouldn’t have been able to afford if he wasn’t on the take.
When she had reported what she knew, her CO had painted a much different picture for the investigators following up on her claims. He had admitted receiving the bribes, but he had lowballed the amount and said he had only accepted the money in order to protect his wife and children from harm. He had offered to pay restitution by making a donation to charity for the same amount he had received. The few thousand pesos he had given to a local orphanage probably didn’t amount to one week’s payout, let alone a year’s worth of cash-filled envelopes.
Somehow, though, he had survived the scandal unscathed and Luisa’s reputation was the one that had wound up tarnished. Some of her colleagues called her a turncoat to her face. Others called her a rat behind her back.
“You would have done the same thing if the narcos had come to you,” they said. “Maybe you already have and you’re trying to get a bigger piece of the pie.”
The only thing she had ended up with was a target on her back. And no matter how much she hated being alone, she couldn’t afford to let anyone get too close or they might get caught in the crossfire. It was hard enough putting herself at risk day in and day out. She didn’t want to endanger the lives of anyone she loved in the process.
When all her belongings were put away and the boxes were broken down and discarded down the trash chute, she rewarded herself with the bag of tacos she had purchased from a street vendor on the corner. Lengua tacos and tacos al pastor, a flavorful combination of onions, cilantro, pineapples, salsa, and thinly sliced pork that could be found anywhere Mexican food was sold but never tasted as good as it did in the capital. Eating tacos al pastor was like coming home, though she felt a pang of guilt when she spied the Porky Pig figurine standing sentry on the coffee table.
“Sorry about the meal, Porky. Don’t look too close, okay?”
She nuked the tacos in the microwave for a couple of minutes, then settled in front of the TV to watch her favorite soccer team try to break its three-game losing streak. Her cell phone rang after she finished her first taco and was reaching for a second. On the TV screen, the striker for Las Chivas was preparing to take a shot at the opposing goal. Luisa rose from her seat in anticipation and cursed when the shot went wide.
“Keep this up and you’ll end up relegated to second division.” Disgusted by the easy miss, she brought her phone to her ear without bothering to check the display. “Moreno.”
“How’s my favorite Federale?”
Luisa couldn’t place the voice at first. Then she closed her eyes and imagined its owner calling her name. “Finn.”
“Sounds like you’re at a party. Am I interrupting something?”
“No.” Luisa picked up the remote and muted the TV. “I was watching soccer, but my team’s losing as usual. What about you? What are you up to?”
“It’s seafood night in all the restaurants so I just finished dining on shrimp, lobster, and fresh fish with five hundred of my closest friends.”
Luisa glanced at the greasy paper bag sitting on her coffee table. “Your meal puts mine to shame, that’s for sure.”
“What are you having?”
“Tacos de lengua.”
“Lengua means ‘tongue,’ doesn’t it? I don’t think I could ever eat anything that can taste me, too.”
“Are you sure about that? Because you seemed perfectly fine with the concept a few hours ago.” So had she. “Are you calling to set up another meeting, are you trying to make me jealous of your five-star meal, or are you simply checking up on how Porky likes his new digs?”
Luisa picked up the small figurine and regarded its well-worn features.
“I’m sure Porky’s settling in just fine,” Finn said. “The real reason I’m calling is to ask what you know about the Jaguars.”
The unexpected seriousness in Finn’s tone made Luisa’s antennae go up. She put the toy down and gave Finn her full atte
ntion. “I assume you mean the Mexican drug cartel, not the American football team.”
“I do.”
“Why are you asking about them?”
“One of the staffers with SOS let it slip that the Jaguars are very active in the area. I read about the massacres that went on several years ago when dozens of tourists were kidnapped and killed. I want to make sure I don’t find myself in the middle of a situation I don’t want to be in.”
Luisa chose her words carefully before she responded. “I won’t tell you there’s nothing to fear because that isn’t true. The Jaguars are one of the most dangerous cartels in all of Mexico. Their leader is shadowy. The authorities don’t know who he is or what he looks like.”
“So he could be anyone.”
And that was the most frustrating part of trying to catch him. The list of viable suspects was short and most of the names on it had already been discounted. Someone out there wielded tremendous power and influence, but who?
“The identity of the Jaguars’ leader is as much a mystery as the group’s sudden rise to power,” Luisa said. “Los Zetas used to be the largest cartel in the country, but the Jaguars have taken over most of their territory.”
“Based on what I’m hearing from you, it sounds like I should catch the next flight out of here.”
“No, that’s not what I said.” Luisa hadn’t meant for her candor to frighten Finn into leaving. Powerful—and violent—drug cartels had existed in Mexico for decades. Though their clashes with citizens were commonplace, their run-ins with tourists were a rarity. “You’re staying at the Mariposa, correct?”
“Yes,” Finn said warily.
“I’m familiar with their security setup. They have guards everywhere and my guys are on the beach. The Jaguars are vicious and they love publicity, but they aren’t crazy. Tourists are their customers, too. They aren’t going to bite the hand that feeds them. And if they did try to make a move on the Mariposa or any of the hotels along the beach, they wouldn’t stand a chance. The patrols and monitoring systems are just too good.”
“Thanks, Luisa.” The relief in Finn’s voice was almost palpable. “I have to go. I’m late for tonight’s show. But do you think I could call you tomorrow when we have more time to talk?”
“Do you need me to give you another civics lesson?”
“Maybe I just need to hear your voice. Would that be okay?”
The longing Luisa heard in Finn’s voice matched the yearning she felt in her own heart. About to start a new job far away from home, friends, and family, she needed a connection. And, perhaps, she had formed one with Finn Chamberlain. But how could she invite Finn into her world when doing so could put Finn’s life at risk?
Finn was safe, she told herself. Hundreds of miles away and protected by armed guards twenty-four hours a day. What harm could come of a few telephone conversations?
“I’d like that,” she said before she could change her mind. “What’s tomorrow night’s meal, caviar and foie gras?”
“The theme’s Italian, so I imagine not.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about it while I’m eating beans out of a can.”
“I will.” Finn’s chuckle reminded Luisa yet again of that afternoon in Dallas. Their brief meeting at the bar and their longer encounter in the hotel nearby. She couldn’t get either out of her mind. “Good night, Luisa.”
“Good night, Finn.”
Luisa ended the call with a smile on her face. Her life was as uncertain as ever, but with one phone call, it had suddenly become a lot less lonely.
Day Two
Finn’s sides ached from laughing. Rusty Connors had been even funnier in person than she was on the comedy album Finn had downloaded for background research before her trip. Finn ran some of the best bits from last night’s show through her head as she walked from her room to the center of the resort. The lounge chairs circling the pool were empty, but blue beach towels marked them as claimed, their owners either strolling on the beach or grazing on the sumptuous breakfast buffet.
Deciding to work on her tan another day, Finn found a shaded cabana and climbed onto the overstuffed cushion. She pulled her electronic reader out of her backpack, but soon found herself doing more people watching than reading.
To her left, artisans began setting up their stalls so anyone with an artistic bent could decorate their own hand-painted souvenirs. To her right, tourists wearing a veritable rainbow of wristbands wandered the beach. The male ones seemed confused by the large number of women on Mariposa’s end of the beach. Their facial expressions were almost comical when they seemed to realize the reason why. Some did quick U-turns, others slowed to a crawl so they could get a closer look. Finn stifled a laugh when one lookie-loo did a face plant while ogling a couple making out in the sand. Then a commotion farther up the beach drew her attention away from the embarrassed peeping Tom.
When she saw a lifeguard carrying a limp woman in his arms, she thought someone must have had too much sun or gotten into trouble in the water. Then she noticed the lifeguard was heading toward the water instead of away from it. Her breath caught when she saw Aurora’s hot pink Mohawk sticking up over his shoulder.
“Is she—She can’t be.”
But she was.
The lifeguard placed Aurora on a plastic lounge chair and, with the help of another lifeguard and several SOS staffers, carried the chair over a sand dune. Then they gently transferred Aurora, wearing a leopard print life vest, from the chair to the water.
Aurora floated on the waves with a beatific smile on her face as the lifeguards and staffers made sure her head remained above the water.
Tears welled in Finn’s eyes as she watched the tenderness with which Aurora’s handlers treated her, and she saw the trust—and peace—in Aurora’s expression.
“Would you like something to drink?” a passing waiter asked, pen pad at the ready.
Finn had brought a bottle of water from her room, and it was too early for her to order something stronger. “Nothing for me, thanks.” She pointed toward Aurora. “But give that woman a champagne cocktail when she’s done. Give her a message for me, too. Tell her Finn said she gets it now.”
The waiter looked confused as he recorded both her drink order and her message on his pen pad. “Anything you say, señorita.”
Finn shook her head in wonder as she wiped her eyes. “One day in, and I’m already drinking the Kool-Aid.”
Being around so many people always put her on edge. She was more comfortable in crowds of five or six, not five hundred. Noise-canceling headphones did the trick during long airplane flights or even longer train rides, but she couldn’t wear them all week without appearing rude or standoffish. Last night’s comedy show had helped her relax a bit, but talking to Luisa was what had truly put her mind at ease. Why couldn’t she meet someone who made her feel like this every day? Or did knowing she and Luisa most likely didn’t have a future make it so easy for her to enjoy the present?
She reinvented herself on each trip, becoming the person she needed to be to suit the task at hand. With Luisa, it was different. She didn’t need to be someone else. She only needed to be herself. Was that enough for Luisa, or would her interest in Finn end as soon as they began their next respective assignments?
“Speaking of assignments.”
Finn pulled out her phone and texted Brett to let her know she had arrived safely.
Better late than never, Brett texted back. Have you started working the story? If so, what approach have you decided to take? Should I expect to receive a regular column or a straightforward review?
Finn hadn’t made up her mind yet. She had taken copious notes since she had arrived, but she hadn’t started trying to figure out how to cobble them into a cohesive story yet.
My narrative changes by the day, she wrote. I think I’ll wait until the end of the week and type up something during my flight back to the States or while I’m sitting in an airport bar during a layover.
Unless, of
course, a hot Mexican woman who worked for the Federal Police plopped on the bar stool next to hers and distracted her from the task at hand. No, that was too much to ask. Something that good could happen only once in a lifetime.
“You look way too serious for someone who’s supposed to be on vacation.”
Finn looked up to find one of her dinner companions from last night standing in front of her cabana.
Indies had designated tables set aside for them in all the resort’s restaurants so they wouldn’t have to eat alone. Last night, Finn had been sandwiched between Jill Elliott and Ryan Norris, best friends from Toronto who were making their third SOS trip.
She tried to recall their biographical details. If she remembered correctly, Jill was a paramedic and Ryan was a firefighter. Or was it the other way around? Whatever her profession happened to be, Jill was standing in front of her wearing a black sports bra and a pair of maple leaf-accented board shorts, but Ryan was MIA.
“Where’s your partner in crime?” Finn asked as she put her phone in her backpack for safekeeping.
“Chatting up someone she met at the omelet station during breakfast service.”
“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Finn said before remembering Jill had a rather large unrequited crush on her friend and roommate.
Jill shrugged with studied nonchalance. “I’m happy if she’s happy. She still comes home to me at the end of the night, so I guess that’s the most I can hope for. Do you mind if I invade your space for a few minutes while I wait for the water aerobics to finish?”
In the pool, a buff instructor in a bright orange string bikini was leading about thirty women through moves that looked alternately silly and taxing. The water provided both resistance and a cushion as the women bounced, splashed, and laughed their way through an hour-long workout. The up-tempo dance music blaring from the PA system gradually gave way to more relaxing sounds, alerting onlookers that the strenuous part of the session had ended and the post-workout cooldown had begun.
24/7 Page 4