Thunder Storm

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Thunder Storm Page 25

by Matt Lincoln


  “Yeah, I get that,” I chuckled, sliding a mug of fresh coffee over to her. She wrapped her fingers around the mug and raised it up below her nose, closing her eyes and inhaling the aroma.

  “A lot happened while you were asleep,” Alejandra pointed out. “How do you feel?”

  “So much better,” I sighed. “I’m used to working through my injuries, and I think the adrenaline kept me from feeling the worst of it at first. I’ll be alright.”

  I could tell by the look in her eyes that Alejandra was worried about me, but I hoped my assurance would ease her mind.

  “Did you hear about Carlos?” she asked hesitantly. “Carlos Abreu?”

  I nodded glumly. “We lost him,” I recalled. “The police had to release him.”

  “Robbie says we can get him back,” she said hopefully.

  “We will,” I nodded, trying to portray more confidence than I felt. Getting Abreu back into custody might prove difficult considering his connections, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, that was for damn sure. Linda nodded her understanding and then changed the subject again.

  “Did you know that we’re headed over to San Juan today?” she asked, searching my face for the answer.

  “Yeah, I had a load of messages from Holm waiting for me when I woke up,” I informed her, taking a sip of my coffee as I spoke. “I know we’re heading to San Juan to interview Maria’s mother again. He pretty much got me up to speed.”

  Alejandra nodded over her mug, taking small sips as she watched the sunrise over my shoulder.

  “How are you holding up?” I asked, concerned about her well-being. “Your dad, too, how is he?”

  “I’m okay,” she replied unconvincingly. “I’m glad that we are finally making progress, but I’m frustrated at how slow this is all going. I’m worried about my father. He is trying to stay strong, but he also worries for my brother’s safety, and I know this is all taking a toll on his mental health.”

  “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t,” I offered. “This would be incredibly tough for anyone to deal with, and your father seems like a tough man on a good day.”

  That elicited a laugh from Alejandra. “I always thought he was mean as a kid, but my brother didn’t seem to be as sensitive to it. As I’ve gotten older, I recognize it as tough love.”

  “I can see that,” I chuckled. As I finished my coffee, I heard the creak of the door beside us, and I turned to see Header walking out of his room, shirtless and grouchy.

  “Still not a morning person, I see!” I teased. He rolled his eyes as he stumbled past me and over to the coffee maker.

  “Never have been, never will be,” he mumbled as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Will you be ready in thirty minutes?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” I replied immediately. “Who’s all going, anyway?”

  “It’ll be the three of us, and Rosa should be picking up Holm and bringing him here. He and your techs headed back to the hotel in Aguadilla last night.” Header leaned back against the counter and took a sip as he looked over at me. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine,” I shrugged. “Doc fixed me right up.”

  “Yeah, he’s good at that,” Header nodded. “I’m going to go shower. See you in thirty.”

  Header took his mug back into his bedroom, leaving Alejandra and myself alone in the kitchen. She was absentmindedly fiddling with the edge of her mug, and she looked deep in thought.

  “You alright?” I asked, trying to meet her gaze. She looked up at me suddenly.

  “Yes, sorry,” she mumbled. “I have a lot on my mind. Mostly, I’m just worried about my brother.”

  I set my mug down and crossed the kitchen to comfort her. I rested my hand on her arm, and she turned to place her own mug down before giving me her full attention.

  “I’m sorry you’re going through this,” I murmured. “Let me know if you need anything. You can stay behind if you’d like.”

  “No.” She shook her head adamantly. “No, I’m going.”

  “Alright,” I conceded, I saw tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, and I used the pad of my thumb to wipe them away. I lifted her chin up toward my face, and her expression softened before she suddenly sprung up onto her toes and planted her lips firmly on mine. My free hand slid behind her back and pulled her close, and for a moment, the rest of the world fell away. That is until the front door opened.

  “Well!” Holm’s voice bellowed through the space. “Good morning, then.”

  Alejandra shied away from me with a small, nervous giggle, and I stepped backward and turned to grab my coffee mug as nonchalantly as I could. Holm walked in, closely followed by Rosa.

  “Good morning, Holm,” I grumbled, steeling myself for his reaction. He didn’t say anything further, though. He merely walked over to the coffee maker and helped himself to a mug.

  “Are we on track to head out in a bit?” he asked, looking between myself and Alejandra.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” she grinned sheepishly, placing her empty mug in the sink and heading into the guest room. I glanced over at Holm, but he simply shrugged and sipped his coffee.

  Within thirty minutes, we were all piled into Header’s truck and heading east toward San Juan. The two women sat in the back together with Holm, leaving me upfront beside Header. It was an easy trip. Once we left his town and hit the main road, I knew the rest of the trip would be a straight run. I watched as the foliage on either side of the road fell away, and suddenly we were driving alongside the top edge of the cliff, looking out over the perfectly blue shimmering water. A roadside stop was set up right where the road curved, and an oversized Puerto Rican flag towered over it, dominating the view. It was absolutely breathtaking.

  This wasn’t our first trip across the island, but the fact that I’d seen this before did nothing to detract from the impact it made. At that moment, I thought I’d be okay with never returning home to Miami. I glanced back at Holm and saw him also staring out the window at the view. I wondered if he was having similar thoughts.

  When we did finally arrive at the Gonzalez house, I was glad to get out and stretch my legs. The vegetable garden on the left side boasted some ripe tomatoes, and the two sedans in the driveway looked like they hadn’t moved since our last visit.

  Holm rapped his knuckles against the wooden door, and Mrs. Gonzalez opened the door a couple of minutes later, her salt and pepper hair pulled back into a long braid. Her eyes were tired yet cautious.

  “Hi, Mrs. Gonzalez,” Holm greeted warmly.

  “Special Agents,” she replied sharply, her eyes wide with fear. “Did you find my Maria?”

  “No, not yet,” Holm answered immediately before shooting me a meaningful look. “We did have a few more questions for you, though, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not if it will help find my daughter,” she said firmly as she stepped to the side and swung the door completely open. “Come in, come in.”

  All five of us stepped inside, and the woman eyed Header and Rosa with an abundance of caution.

  “Ma’am, these are our liaisons,” Holm lied smoothly. “We have an all-hands-on-deck type of scenario, and these two are valuable assets.”

  Mrs. Gonzalez nodded, accepting Holm’s story. “Please sit down.”

  She gestured to her couch, which was admittedly too small for all five of us. We did manage to convince Alejandra and Rosa to take a seat, and then Holm and Header pushed me to sit with them. I knew they were worried about my injury, but it wasn’t necessary. I was fine. This wasn’t the forum for a debate, so I took the seat beside Alejandra. I sat on the edge of the cushion and leaned forward to focus my attention on Mrs. Gonzalez.

  “Would you like some tea or water?” she asked politely. We all declined, mostly to get straight to the point. I wouldn’t have minded a glass of water, but it could wait.

  “Mrs. Gonzalez,” I began, “the last time we were here, we discussed your daughter, and we discussed her boyfriend, Miguel.”

&nbs
p; “Yes,” she prompted, waiting for the question that she knew was coming.

  “We never really spoke much about your husband, Angel.” It wasn’t a question, but it laid the groundwork for the rest of our conversation.

  Her expression turned steely as I spoke. She did not respond right away, so I kept talking.

  “May I ask a few questions about him?” I paid close attention to her body language, hoping it would tell me something that her voice wouldn’t. I knew Holm was doing the same.

  “I suppose,” she replied. Her expression was one of caution, which I found intriguing considering the circumstances.

  “What does he do for a living?” I asked. The woman shifted uncomfortably, pulling her worn-in cardigan tight across her chest. She didn’t meet my eyes, and she didn’t answer right away. It was a promising reaction. Usually, it was the tough questions that revealed the most.

  “I am only telling you this because I need you to find my daughter,” she insisted. “I need you to find her.”

  I nodded to assure her that we were on the same page, and I caught Holm nodding beside me, as well.

  She cleared her throat and continued. “Angel wasn’t a legal citizen,” she admitted. “He came from the Dominican Republic and married me to gain citizenship. He tries to stay under the radar, so he works odd jobs. It’s part of the reason for his travel back and forth. He transports goods back and forth sometimes. He has always refused legal employment.”

  That got my attention, and I was sure I wasn’t alone. “What kind of goods?”

  She shrugged. “Odds and ends, nothing illegal!” Her eyes widened as though she had just realized the implication of this question. “A lot of food items, I think. I don’t know. He never told me much. Truth be told, I never asked. We had food on the table and a roof over our heads. We had a beautiful daughter. We had everything we needed.”

  “You never thought to ask him how work was going?” I tried to make it a lighthearted question, but it didn’t come out quite the way I’d intended it to.

  “Of course I did!” she insisted. “I never received overly specific answers, though. He would tell me that work was going great, or that the latest delivery went smoothly, but his work bored me. I had no interest in such things.”

  I paused as I processed everything. I suddenly remembered something from the last time we were at Mrs. Gonzalez’s home, and I sat forward, drawing her full attention.

  “Ma’am, the last time we were here, you told me your husband was in the Dominican Republic, visiting his mother.”

  Her eyes widened innocently. “Yes,” she nodded. “He does that frequently. He takes care of her.”

  “We had just come from her home before coming here. Other family was there, but he was not.” I watched her carefully, taking in her raised eyebrows and mild concern that flitted across her face.

  “I don’t know how that is possible. He stays with her until he has a shipment to come in.” She shook her head vehemently as if convincing herself we were mistaken.

  “Where is he now?” I asked.

  “With his mother,” she insisted, although her eyes seemed to doubt her words.

  I looked up at Holm, who exchanged a meaningful look with me. Shedding all pretense, I sat back and crossed my arms. “Mrs. Gonzalez, we have reason to believe that your husband is involved in an illegal enterprise that resulted in the kidnapping of your daughter.”

  The woman stilled. I was pretty sure she’d stopped breathing for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she uttered finally. “You believe what?”

  I repeated my statement, and her shoulders slumped as she took on the weight of the news. After a minute or two, she looked back up at me, a bit more assertive.

  “Agents,” she stated firmly, her eyes darting up to Holm and back down to me. “I have never been privy to my husband’s business ventures. I may have had suspicions that everything was not legal, but I never wanted to know. I have always trusted one thing, and that was that whatever he did, he would keep it away from his family and protect us. Now, you are saying he did the exact opposite of what I trust and believe in my own heart to be true. My husband was never an easy man, but he loves us. He wouldn’t… he would not kidnap his own daughter? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “We don’t believe it was their goal,” Holm chimed in. “Your daughter joined Miguel García at the last minute to go on this trip. We believe that García was the intended target. Your daughter just happened to get caught up in the action.”

  “I knew that lousy Miguel would get her into trouble,” she muttered. I felt Alejandra bristle beside me, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Miguel was a pawn, ma’am,” Holm added. “He is an innocent, just as your daughter is. We are working hard to find them both.”

  She adjusted her cardigan and considered Holm’s words silently, looking skeptical but accepting his statement.

  “Is there anything more you can tell us about his whereabouts or activities?” I asked, wrapping up the interview.

  She shook her head solemnly. “I am sorry, Agents. I’ve been lied to. I don’t believe anything I know to be the truth. I am always told he is at his mother’s, that he stays there between transports. If he is doing the things you say he is doing, then I am confident that he is not actually there, and I have no idea where he could be.”

  I let out a defeated sigh. I’d been hoping for some more information that we could work with, but we’d found nothing. After shaking hands with her and thanking her for her time, we all filed out the front door, making our way silently back to Header’s truck. We all piled in, and it wasn’t until the doors had all been pulled shut that Alejandra broke the silence.

  “She doesn’t know anything helpful, does she?” she wondered out loud. “She only knows how to be judgemental.”

  “I’m sorry.” I turned to face Alejandra as I spoke. “I’m sure that was tough, but we appreciate you riding it out with us.”

  She nodded glumly and stared down at her hands, and Rosa placed her own hands over Alejandra’s to comfort her. I turned back to Header.

  “What now?” I asked. “Shall we just head back west?”

  Header chuckled. “Hell no, I’m starving.” He shifted the truck into drive and eased his way out of the snug spot. “I reached out to Lin before we stepped into the house. She’s meeting us for lunch at her favorite restaurant.”

  That got my attention, and my stomach’s as well. It grumbled quietly in response to the news. “I’m sold,” I agreed, “as long as we head back tonight.”

  “Of course,” he asserted, his usually bright eyes dark and determined. “We need to get to the bottom of this and soon.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  Chapter 28: Ethan

  Linda’s favorite restaurant happened to be a short walk from the Coast Guard base, and an even shorter walk from La Fortaleza, the Governor’s mansion. After walking uphill a few blocks, past colorful buildings and bustling souvenir shops, we rounded a corner to find another wider street lined with restaurants and art galleries. Cars ambled over the cobblestones as they passed by, and the crowds thickened in places that made it a bit difficult to stay together as a group.

  When I spotted Linda Reyes beneath a stark white awning, tucked away from the meandering crowds, I almost didn’t recognize her. Her auburn curls bounced freely over her shoulders, and her white embroidered sundress emphasized her bronzed, sunkissed skin. She beamed when she saw us, her eyes glittering with excitement.

  “I’m so glad to see you all again!” she called out as she approached us. She immediately went for Header, throwing her arms around him and smothering his face with her curls. He laughed and squeezed her tightly in response before gently sliding his hands down her arms to break the hug.

  “Hey, Lin,” he smirked.

  “Hey, Jakey,” she sang cheerfully. She turned to face the rest of us, one hand still lightly touching Header’s arm. “Are you guys ready for some amazing mofongo?”

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nbsp; Puerto Rico hadn’t disappointed me yet, so after an enthusiastic response from the group, Linda led us into the restaurant.

  We were quickly seated around a small table beneath the sunlight. We looked to be in an alley of some sort, sandwiched between the enclosed restaurant and what appeared to be a jewelry store. When I looked up, I saw the glass ceiling and realized we were still sheltered. The sunlight and outdoorsy feel was a nice change of pace from the typical restaurant experience.

  “This place is great,” Holm admitted, looking around the space. There was a stone fountain in the center, and further up, a bar took up a sizable amount of real estate. There were a few other tables occupied, but the chatter was kept low, which made for a serene atmosphere.

  “Isn’t it?” Linda gushed, leaning forward over her untouched menu. “I love coming here.”

  We all took Linda’s advice and ordered the mofongo, and as we waited for our orders to arrive, we made small talk about everything except the case. Linda retold the story of how she joined the Coast Guard, and the credit she gave to Header for her reaching the position she was currently in. Header recalled a couple of stories from their childhood together, and laughter filled the table, allowing me to forget, for just a moment, the severity of this case we were working.

  When our plates arrived, even the lighthearted banter between Header and Linda ceased as the aromas filled our nostrils. The spices mingled with the savory scent of the meats and the sweetness of the plantains, and my mouth watered as I looked down at my rather large plate.

  “What is this again?” Holm asked as he jammed a fork into a corner, gathering up a piece of chicken with his mofongo.

  “It’s mashed plantains with garlic and spices,” Linda informed him over her own fork. “What do you think of it?”

 

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