What was he doing tonight? If he and Jose were smuggling, it was something serious. More so than exotic birds. Something serious enough to require a gun. And that meant the others, whoever they were, also had guns! Then it occurred to her that whatever Nick was involved in was more important than the search for Jenni. He was willing to leave her stranded midstream, waiting for the Customs officials to call. And because of her devotion to him, her trust, Alex sat here, waiting. Doing nothing. Just waiting. It wasn't enough.
Nick didn't care for her. He couldn't! Even though he claimed he did, Alex was convinced he wouldn't have left her like this if he loved her. He'd said they were keeping in close contact with Customs, but if neither he nor Jose was here, how could they do that? He also said he'd be with her to the end. And where was he this minute? Not with her!
Alex looked out the window. Five hundred miles beyond the horizon was the Mexican border . . . and Jessup. And perhaps Jenni. Her eyes dropped to the gray van parked below the window. Suddenly, she knew what she must do.
Quickly, she tore off his shirt. After a shower she dressed and threw some extra clothes into a small suitcase. She made another pot of coffee for herself and searched out another thermos. It would be a long trip across Mexico, and she prayed that Nick’s rattletrap van would make it.
Digging into her purse, she found a pen and tore off the end of a brown paper bag in the kitchen. The note was brief. It said all she needed to say: Thanks for everything. Adios.
Alex paused beside the pile of boxes that represented her worldly possessions. She studied the boxes for a minute then began to dig furiously in one of them. Soon she retrieved the small item and looked at it with a grim smile of satisfaction. She closed Nick's apartment door with Jenni's well-loved, frayed teddy bear tucked under her arm.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nick halted and leaned heavily on Jose. The two men stared at the empty place where the gray van was always parked. "Damn! Van’s gone. She's gone!"
"Maybe she jes’ took a ride, Capitan."
"Yeah, all the way to Jessup on the border."
"To Jessup? You think she will interfere? Should we stop her?
Nick laughed sarcastically at the thought of stopping anything Alex set her mind to. "No, I don't think that's necessary. She'll be too late. The kid's already on her way. I'm almost sure of it." Nick spoke with difficulty and halted to take a raspy breath. "Anyway, it's something Alex had to do. She's damn stubborn, Jose."
"Ayee, that mujer has a mind of her own! Where will she go if she can't find la nina?"
"Hell, Jose, who knows what that woman will do next? Maybe she'll go to Phoenix, to her friend Carol's." Nick gasped as a wave of pain racked his body.
"Come on, Capitan. You're bleeding pretty bad."
Jose draped a strong arm around Nick's ribs and all but carried him up the stairs. Depositing the wounded man on the edge of the bed, he quickly checked the apartment. He found the note on the table, and trying to avert his eyes from the scribbled words, handed it to El Capitan.
Nick read Alex's quickly scribbled words and let it flutter weakly to the floor. "Damn!" His bloodshot eyes had lost their sharp quality. "I don't know how to keep her, Jose."
"Do you want to?"
"Hell, yes! God knows why, but I do!"
"We'll find her, Capitan. And bring her back."
"Oh, yeah? How? Tie her hand and foot?" He coughed a couple of dry hacks. "Jose, I'm in big trouble." Nick sank back on the bed and was immediately engulfed in a pool of blood.
Jose was never sure if Nick meant he was in trouble because he was losing blood or because this spirited woman with a temptress's blue eyes had left him. He had suspected all along that those indigo eyes of hers spelled danger for El Capitan.
The moon was a half lemon slice hanging by its tip, illuminating the otherwise black Mexican sky. Its glow was the only light she saw for hours, and it served to lure Alex toward her goal. She stopped twice for gas, saying a prayer each time that the van's fractious engine would restart. It did.
She bought a bag of stale corn chips at one of the filling stations, drank the devil's-brew coffee she’d brought along. And drove. Drove like a bat out of hell. She was a crusader fighting a holy war —her own. By dawn she pulled into the border checkpoint at Valencia, the Mexican border town at Arizona's remote southeastern corner.
She was directed inside a tiny green-and-glass building. "I'm Alexis Julian and I'm the one looking for a child who's being brought across the border illegally. I understand the Hermosillo police alerted you about her. This is the child." She shoved her papers across the desk along with a photo of Jenni.
The uniformed Customs officer looked curiously at her, then at her papers.
"Jenni was taken illegally in Hermosillo," Alex continued anxiously. "We think she's to be sold for adoption in the States. That's why we're looking for her here. She was supposed to be taken across this border yesterday, possibly even the day before. Did you see her?"
"Uno momento, senorita." The man took her papers and conferred in rapid-fire Spanish with another officer. Then both men joined her, as if to serve as a united front. "We have found no such child, senorita."
"But surely she's been taken across by now! I . . . I just want to see her, to stay with her. I won't interfere with your investigation or anything. You see, she's been stolen from her home and family. Her mother was killed and I'm all she has left!" Alex felt the swell of panic mushrooming inside her breast and she struggled to stay in control of her emotions.
The men gave her sympathetic looks, but there was no recognition in their eyes. "I'm sorry, senorita. We have not seen this child."
Alex edged forward on her seat and leaned one arm on the officer's desk. "But you don't understand, sir. You must find her for me. They're going to sell her for adoption in the States. We have to stop them—right here—before they can take her any farther!" Alex tapped the desk with conviction.
The men exchanged harried glances, then one spoke. "Senorita, por favor, we have found no child these last two days. That is all I can tell you at this time." The finality of his tone told her that he couldn’t or wouldn't tell her anything more.
Alex felt as though she had just been slapped. Could she believe them? Damn! Maybe she should have waited for Nick after all. His forcefulness attracted attention. Got action. Hers merely elicited sympathetic stares.
No, she decided stubbornly. She was here for Jenni and here she would stay until . . . until she had no more reason to stay.
"Then maybe they haven't brought Jenni through yet," she deduced aloud. "Do you mind if I wait?"
The officers exchanged glances again, and wordlessly decided she could do no harm. Better to humor her. "Sí, claro, senorita. You may wait in here." They directed her to a small, square, glassed room where she had visual access to the string of cars lining up to cross the border into Arizona.
Alex waited. And waited. Three hours. Four. It was hot in the little booth. She dozed on the hard bench for a few minutes and awakened with a start, horrified that perhaps she had missed Jenni. She rushed out to ask the officer in charge if a small child had been discovered. He shook his head. Dejectedly, Alex took her seat again.
The realization came slowly. Finally Alex knew in her heart that Jenni had already been transported across the border. It was too late to question how such a thing could have happened when the customs officers were supposed to be watching for this child. It just did. Nick was right. There were ways.
With a resigned sigh, Alex gathered her paper cups, thanked the officers for their kindness, and drove the van across the border into Jessup, Arizona. Oh, God, how she had argued with Nick about coming to this place. Now that she was here, it was a letdown. Somehow she had expected more excitement, but what she found was a dusty, rather lifeless little border town, and she felt as bedraggled as the place appeared.
Now what? Where should she start to look for Jenni? Would the baby still be with the connection, the wom
an who served as the first American link of the chain, as Nick called it? God, how she wished Nick was here. He would know what to do, where to go. He would know how to find this woman. Alex drove around the town, which consisted of several blocks of half-dying businesses and small residential pockets. The major highway to Tucson led past McDonald's, the old copper smelter plant, and the junior college. That was it.
She turned around and drove back into town. Parking on an empty corner, Alex entered the county building. Perhaps the Child Welfare Department could give her the information she needed. Fifteen minutes later Alex stepped back out into the blazing noon heat. No knowledge of the missing child. And they certainly had no knowledge of an illegal baby ring. So now what?
She squinted in the near-blinding brightness and an incongruous sign on the building across the street caught her eye. The shape of a huge cowboy boot, outlined in neon lights, blinked and rocked. COWBOY BAR, it read.
A bar. Of course! You could find out all sorts of information about a town in the bar, Alex decided with a blossom of hope. You could even find out about illegal connections. It was in a cantina that she and Nick had met the man with the baby for sale in Guaymas! Without another thought about the propriety or possible danger of a lone woman entering a strange bar in a strange town, Alex crossed the street and sallied inside, under the flashing boot.
The immediate darkness of the room surprised her. It took a full minute for her blinded eyes to be able to discern walls, tables, chairs, the bar, and five pairs of masculine eyes staring at her. Suddenly she felt naked, as those eyes disrobed her, and she burned with embarrassment and indignation at their blatant ogling. Every one, to a man, gave her a full assessment in the time she stood like a zombie, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dimmed lights.
Oh, dear God! What am I doing here? Is it a mistake to be here without Nick? I know what they're thinking. I can see it in their eager faces. Will I be able to walk out of here? Maybe I shouldn't have walked in. But someone here knows the baby connection. I'm sure of it.
She proceeded cautiously to the bar, where three of the men sat at the other end, talking to the bartender. On her approach their conversations stopped, and the only sound was the twanging country record playing on the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner. Alex leaned on the bar and the bartender ambled over with a welcoming smile.
"What can I fix for you?"
"I'm not here for a drink, thank you," she conceded with a nervous smile. "I need some information. I wonder if you could tell me, uh, if you know a woman who, uh, deals with babies from Mexico. You know, like . . . has them for adoption."
The bartender leaned forward and asked in a low voice, "You pregnant? Want to sell it? Good money for healthy babies, I hear tell."
"No—I, uh, I'm looking for a baby." Alex felt a disturbing heat building around her neck. This was not going to be easy.
"You lookin' to buy?" He eyed her warily and suddenly Alex realized that she was on the edge of illegal turf and playing a dangerous game. She'd damn sure better play their game well or she could be in deep trouble, and with no one to help her out of it, since no one knew where she was.
She feigned a nonchalance she didn’t feel and shrugged. "Maybe."
He motioned to a man who sat at a corner table by himself, drinking Tecate, a brand of Mexican beer. "Homer's been here longer than I have. Knows more people. Maybe he can tell ya."
Alex's heart pounded as she made her way to Homer's table, disquieted that she would have to repeat her story to this tough-looking man. She tried to ignore the bawdy comments that accompanied her brief journey across the room.
"Hey there, cutie!"
"Mmm, bonita!"
"Guera, chula! Blondie!"
By the time she reached Homer's table, Alex was aquiver inside. Never had she been subject to such a demeaning situation, and yet she couldn't stop now. Blandly, she watched Homer lick a dab of salt from his thumb's web, gulp a shot of tequila, and follow it with a long swig of Tecate. Alex stifled a shudder as he downed the boilermaker.
"Sientese, por favor, chula," he directed in Spanish.
Alex decided right away she would not converse in Spanish. After all, she was an American looking to buy. "Thank you. I'll be brief, Homer. I'm looking to buy a baby. Mexican. I understand you know where I can get one."
He assessed her with droopy bloodshot eyes. "Maybe you married?" His gaze dropped to her ringless left hand.
Quickly deducing that a married couple with plenty of money had a better chance at this, she nodded. "Uh, yes. But I took the rings off, for safety. The diamonds, you know."
"Put them back on. Looks better," he directed. "Where is your husband?"
"He had business in California. A big real estate deal that he just couldn't miss."
"You from California?"
"Uh, well, we have a home there. Palm Springs. But also in Scottsdale, and West Palm. In uh, Florida. I hate the Springs this time of year. There is absolutely no one there. And I get so lonesome. You see, I can't have any children. I've been to doctors all over the country and they told me to forget it and just to adopt one. But adoptions take so long. And Sterling, that's my husband, Sterling, he's been turned down by two agencies already. You see, Sterling's older and, well, you know how picky those places can be." She paused to see how she was doing.
Homer took advantage of the time to take another swig of beer.
Alex cleared her throat. "So Sterling said, honey, if you want a baby, you just go right over there and get one. So here I am." Alex hushed and smiled expectantly, hoping with all her might that she was convincing.
Homer considered her lengthy explanation while he slowly finished off the Tecate. "Go to la farmacía. Couple a blocks over. Tell the druggist you're lookin' for a baby."
At that point Alex realized she would have to repeat her story, maybe several times, before she reached the end of the trail. "Thank you, Homer." Discreetly, she slipped a ten dollar bill beneath his beer can. "Have another drink or two on Sterling. He'll be so grateful."
She exited as quickly as she could amid catcalls of "Don't leave so soon, pretty baby!" and "Come on back and let me treat! Then you can treat!"
Alex slipped into the old van and drove to a remote part of town. Damn, she wished she'd kept that fake wedding ring Nick had given her in Guaymas! She changed into some fresh clothes in the back of the van, rearranged all her papers, and tucked away everything connecting her to living in Mexico. Then she walked the distance back into town, stopping along the way at a pawn shop. When she entered the small pharmacy with a used ring on her finger, Alex hoped she resembled a married woman intent on finding a child.
The druggist was even more thorough in his questioning than Homer had been. He asked for identification, and Alex whipped out her dated Arizona driver's license. He examined it then compared her with the photo. "It's expired. A year ago," he observed.
Alex feigned surprise. "Why, how in the world could that have happened? Oh, I know! My husband took me to the Bahamas for my birthday last year! We stayed two months and it was so wonderful. I guess I just forgot to renew my license on my birthday. Gosh, I'm glad you found it before the police did." She tucked the little card back into her purse. "Well, can you direct me to the place that has the babies?"
The druggist's eyes were gray-cold and wary. "You will have to talk to Consuela. She'll make the arrangements. She runs the cafe down the street. Tell her you're looking for an original Cabbage Patch Doll. She'll know what you want."
Alex tried to hide her excitement. Maybe she was nearing the end of this chase and wouldn't have to tell her story many more times. "Cabbage Patch Doll? Okay. Thank you very much."
Alex walked to the cafe, buoyed by hope. When she entered the small eatery, there wasn't a soul in sight. She took a side table and could hear an afternoon soap opera on a T.V. in the back room. A very large, buxom woman approached, and Alex ordered a glass of tea. When the woman set the glass before her, Alex asked, "Are you
Consuela?"
The woman nodded.
"Consuela, I'm Alex Julian. I talked to the druggist a few minutes ago and he sent me here. You see, I'm looking for an original Cabbage Patch Doll. He said you could help me."
"I might. Let me check." She disappeared and returned about fifteen minutes later. "Come with me, please."
Alex wasn't prepared for the complete search Consuela inflicted on her, including sorting through her purse and patting down each leg. She was glad she'd hidden her passport and other information proving her years of living and working in Mexico in the van.
"Sorry for the inconvenience, senora, but we have to make sure. You understand."
"Of course," Alex nodded, trying to act calm. "Can you tell me now where I might find one of these, uh, dolls?"
"Someone will come after you and take you there. In about an hour."
"An hour?" Alex felt a definite weariness from lack of food and sleep. The escalating temperature outside wasn't helping any, either. Another hour in this heat, and she might collapse on the spot.
"You could always have something to eat," Consuela grinned.
Alex ate a plate of fiery enchiladas and drank two glasses of iced tea while she waited. She deposited a generous tip on the Formica-topped table and decided that Consuela wasn't so dumb. Maybe she kept everyone waiting so they'd have time to eat at her place.
Eventually Alex was led to the back alley to board the vehicle that would take her to the babies. She looked at the cream-colored pickup truck and its camper on the back with sudden trepidation. Should she get in? Hell, it was too late to back out now. The driver motioned for her to ride in the camper part.
As Alex climbed into the rear section, she caught sight of a huge platform truck with wooden stakes on the sides. It was the kind used for transporting vegetables, and probably hauled them up from Mexico to Consuela's cafe and other area restaurants. She wondered what else was hauled in such a vegetable truck.
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