Thunder Storm

by Matt Lincoln

Holm shoveled it into his mouth, and his eyes widened in appreciation. He swallowed hard and looked over at Linda. “I was not expecting all of that. This is really good!”

  I took Holm’s enthusiasm as my cue to dig in, and for a few moments, the entire table was silent except for the scraping of our utensils against the plates and the occasional clinking of ice against the walls of our drinking glasses.

  “So, Marston,” Header said suddenly after a bit, breaking the easy silence that had settled over the table. “What do you think our next step should be?”

  I set my fork down and sighed in frustration. The knot in my stomach grew, and I cringed at the thought of possibly not being able to eat.

  “I don’t know, man,” I murmured. I looked over at Holm and then stole a glance at Alejandra. Both of them were eating silently, but their bodies had stilled. They were listening intently. “We are missing something. Short of going out on the water and hoping to stumble across someone else in the midst of a smuggling operation, I’ve got nothing.”

  Header stabbed at a piece of steak. “Hell, I was thinking the same thing. I do think Gonzalez is the key, though. There’s something there that we are not seeing, and it has to do with him.”

  “I don’t disagree,” Holm interjected. “If I recall correctly, Warner is already looking into him, no?”

  I nodded as I shoveled more mofongo into my mouth. Knot in my stomach be damned, I wasn’t going to leave this meal uneaten. I had also sent a text to Warner about our interview this morning, which I hoped would help push things along. I knew Warner had a lot on his plate at the moment, what with the latest news about the budget cuts and the other cases he was working, but this was important, and it was the only lead we had to hope for right now.

  “We need something,” Holm muttered, almost to himself. “One breadcrumb is all we need, and we can find the rest of the trail.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I hit a wall like this on a case,” I sighed.

  “Me neither.” Holm took another bite of his meal, and now the silence surrounding us took on a more melancholy tone.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” Linda announced suddenly, sliding out of her chair and heading toward the back of the alley where sunlight beamed through an open arched doorway. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number as she walked, and I wondered who it was she needed to call so abruptly.

  Her absence didn’t seem to bother anyone else at the table, so I kept eating. I was so deep in my thoughts that I hardly noticed her return.

  “Okay,” she announced, settling back into her seat. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. Although no one was close enough to overhear her anyway, her unspoken point was made. What she was about to say did not leave the table. “I spoke to my boss and requested that my cutter be free to patrol the west side and Mona Passage for this next leg of patrol. I briefly explained what was going on as vaguely as I could, and we will make sure we have an extra-heavy presence in that area for the foreseeable future. Even when my cutter comes back home, someone else will be heading out in its place.”

  “Wow.” I sat back in my chair, stunned at her generosity. “That is not your responsibility. This is our problem, not yours. You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”

  “Yeah, talk about going above and beyond,” Holm chimed in.

  Linda shrugged us both off. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she asserted. “It is quite literally in my job description to go where the drugs are and stop them from reaching the United States. You just gave me intel is all.” She shrugged again for good measure, but Holm knew as well as I did that she was stretching the truth.

  I glanced over at Header, who was watching Linda with a smile that portrayed both pride and admiration. I still couldn’t understand why they never tried being more than friends. They seemed so comfortable with each other, and it was sweet, the way they spoke to and about each other. I made a mental note to share my thoughts on the matter with him later, maybe once the case was resolved.

  The rest of the meal went by too quickly, and thanks to Alejandra’s dramatic retelling of her camping experience with Rosa, it ended on a high note. As we walked out of the restaurant, I noticed a small crowd gathered at the intersection to the left.

  “What’s going on there?” I asked, gesturing lazily down the block. She looked down the block and shrugged.

  “When the cruise ships are in, the tourists gather here,” she informed us. “At the end of the block is La Fortaleza, the Governor’s Mansion. It is gated, but the road leading to it usually has some sort of colorful decorations overhead. It makes for a nice photoshoot.”

  “They don’t always have the flag up?” Holm asked. I looked again, and sure enough, a long Puerto Rican flag was draped over the entire street, attached to the balcony railings of the buildings along either side. The lone blue star sat closest to us, and the three red stripes ran all the way down the block, almost to the gate.

  “No.” Linda shook her head. “Sometimes they do umbrellas, at Christmas, they line the street with trees… It’s always something new.”

  “I’d like to see it,” Alejandra chimed in, looking excited. “It’s nice to see something beautiful on this island. So far, for me, it’s represented nothing but stress and worry.”

  Both Linda and Header looked taken aback by that statement.

  “Oh, no!” Linda gasped. “I can’t let that be your impression of my island. Come, I will show you.”

  Linda took Alejandra’s hand and led her down the block through the thickening crowd, leaving the rest of us with no choice but to follow.

  As I began to walk, Header grumbled beside me. “Give a woman a gorgeous house with a perfect unimpeded view of the ocean as she sunbathes on the surface of your new pool, and she still isn’t happy.”

  I chortled. I knew he was only joking, though, and I couldn’t blame Alejandra for remaining stressed even while in Header’s pool.

  When we hit the corner, we saw multiple small gatherings of people, all shouting at each other and coming up with a game plan for the perfect photo, or figuring out where to go next. There was one group standing a little way up the block, a mother and two small children, while her husband stood in the middle of the intersection, struggling to get the perfect shot.

  Rosa broke away from us and approached him. She somehow managed to communicate with him that she would take a photo of all four of them together, and he was overcome with gratitude as he handed her his camera and joined his family underneath the flag. She took a few photos and then met them halfway, where the husband looked at the photos and graciously thanked her by clasping his hands tightly over hers. While all of this was happening, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked over to find Alejandra with a questioning look on her face.

  “What’s going on?” I murmured to her.

  “Do you think we can stop inside one of these shops before we leave?” she asked quietly, pointing toward a place just off the intersection. Her voice was timid as if she didn’t want to be too much of a bother.

  “Sure!” I beamed. “I’d love to do something around here that’s a bit less serious.” I looked over at Header, who was mid-discussion with Rosa.

  “Hey, Header, we’re headed over to that store over there,” I announced, jabbing a thumb toward Alejandra’s requested storefront.

  Header nodded but continued in hushed tones as Rosa signed furiously back at him.

  “I’ll join you,” Holm announced, shooting a sideways glance in Header and Rosa’s direction. Linda giggled and followed Holm as he approached us.

  “I’ll do the same,” she added lightheartedly. The four of us wandered over to the shop together, weaving through the crowds the best we could.

  When we reached the shop, the narrow doorway and steep ramp made for an awkward entrance, but once inside, it opened up to reveal a very deep space. The walls were covered in artwork, and a cashier in the center stood surrounded by a glass countertop. Beneath the glass was an array of small
pieces of artwork and carvings, handmade jewelry, and miniature figurines. I ran my hand over the glass as I admired the display, keeping myself busy while Alejandra perused the artwork on the walls.

  I noticed a few symbols in particular that kept repeating across the different pieces of art. My eyes landed on a small frog carved out of wood, with a couple of the symbols painted on its back. Holm wandered over next to me and peered down, only mildly interested.

  “Whatcha looking at?” he asked with a grin, scanning the pieces below us. I pointed down to the frog.

  “I was looking at this little guy,” I replied casually. I was vaguely aware of Linda coming up to us, listening to our conversation as she approached. “I wonder what these symbols mean. They seem to be on a lot of the items.”

  Linda stepped up to my left elbow and peered down, following my gaze. “Are you talking about the coquí?”

  “That’s a coquí?” Holm asked, looking over at her. Linda giggled slightly and nodded.

  “Yes, they are little tree frogs. You will see them represented everywhere, and you will hear them at night. Depending on where you are, they get pretty loud.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Header and I heard them on Mona Island. They were pretty loud. I didn’t know they were so small.” The wooden figurine was only about three inches long.

  “Actually, this is enlarged, as are most of the depictions. They are actually a bit smaller, one or two inches long.” Linda looked as if she was in her element. Whatever questions we had here, I knew she would be able to answer it.

  “What do the symbols mean?” Holm asked as if reading my mind.

  “These symbols are actually Taíno symbols,” she informed us. “The Taíno people were the original people of the island before the Europeans began to take over. A lot of the Taíno influence can still be felt throughout the island, and it is recognized in many places. You two must have noticed the giant Indian head monument on the corner when you reach Jake’s neighborhood.”

  I thought back to our first trip across the island and conjured up a mental image of an oversized face carved into the stone on a corner as we turned off the main road in Isabela. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

  “Yeah, I think we’ve seen it,” I nodded.

  Linda smiled warmly. “That is a depiction of the Taíno Chief Mabodomaca. He has a very interesting story, and they honored him with that carving. Everywhere you go here on the island, the Taíno influence still lingers.”

  “You know a lot about this stuff,” Holm acknowledged.

  Linda smiled proudly. “This island is my family’s heritage. I love this stuff. That symbol there is for the sun, and that there is the symbol for the coquí.” She pointed toward each symbol, and now that I was looking at them again, it was pretty obvious what they represented.

  “Thank you.” History and heritage held a special place in my heart, too. My search for the Dragon’s Rogue seemed to be mostly on pause with this trip, but looking for it had been a lifelong pursuit for me, and it had always held a special place in my heart. Because of that alone, I could relate.

  I looked over and saw Alejandra listening in from across the countertop. She flashed me a small smile that was meant just for me before wandering off to check out another painting on the wall.

  After perusing a few other items scattered around the shop, including a dark, oversized painting of one of the garitas of El Morro. I had seen El Morro, the six-level fortress that skirted the city of San Juan, from the plane when we came in, but I hadn’t realized the historical significance of it at the time. The old stone walls stood strong against the sea, and the garitas, or sentry boxes, jutted out at even intervals along the top edge of the fort walls. Now that I had been here for a bit, I was noticing these garitas depicted in artwork everywhere. They seemed as much a symbol of the island as the coquís were, and sometimes the two even made it onto the same piece of artwork.

  Sure enough, a bit further down the wall, there was another painting, this one with more vibrant colors, that seemed to be a collage of different Puerto Rican symbols. A garita, a coquí, a palm tree, and some type of vibrantly colored flower took up most of the space, and my eyes didn’t know where to land what with all of the details piled into this single painting.

  My thoughts were disrupted by Holm.

  “Warner texted me,” he said sharply, slapping me on the arm. “He has something. Want to step outside with me and figure this out?”

  I glanced around the shop and saw Alejandra discussing something with Linda on the other side. Not wanting to interrupt her, I nodded quickly at Holm.

  “Yeah, but let’s not stray too far,” I suggested, “this way the women can find us if they need to.”

  Holm gave me an understanding look before spinning on his heels and hurrying out the door. I wasn’t far behind him, and the nice little alcove before the entrance allowed us to steer clear of the passing crowd as we made our phone call.

  “Hey, Holm,” Warner’s voice came through clearly, but he sounded a bit distracted. “I know this is important, but I’m going to have to call you back.”

  Holm groaned. “Yeah, alright,” he muttered. He hung up the phone and looked over at me with an annoyed expression. “That was anticlimactic.”

  “Yeah, no kidding.” I shoved my hands into my pockets and leaned back against the window, absentmindedly watching the crowds stroll by.

  “Oh, look who caught up to us.” I perked up at Holm’s voice and followed his vague gesture over to where Header and Rosa were approaching us.

  “What did you guys get up to?” I asked lightheartedly.

  Rosa began signing, and Header glanced down to translate. “Rosa found another family to take pictures for, and I was finally able to pull her away, but she got distracted by the candy store.”

  Rosa held up a bright-colored plastic bag that I somehow hadn’t noticed until that moment. She had a huge, cheesy grin on her face.

  “Like a kid in a candy store,” Holm quipped, earning a few eye rolls from all three of us.

  “What d'you get there?” I inquired as she cracked her bag open to show us. Inside appeared to be mostly chocolates, but I saw some pieces that looked like they were covered in coconut and something else that looked similar to peanut brittle.

  We spent the next few minutes discussing the popularity of different types of candy, and thanks to Header’s translating skills, it was the deepest conversation I’d been able to have with Rosa since we first met on Wraith back in the day. I had already trusted that she was a major badass since she’d have to be one in order to work with a man like Jake Header. This conversation gave me a deeper perspective on her, and I decided she was way cooler than I had originally expected her to be.

  Not long after that, Linda and Alejandra waltzed out of the shop. Linda had a small package tucked under her arm, and Alejandra had a genuine smile on her face, which was a refreshing change.

  “What do you have there?” Holm asked curiously, but Linda didn’t reveal any secrets.

  “It’s a small token for a good friend,” she informed us vaguely. I now knew no more than I had a few seconds ago, but that was alright. She was entitled to her secrets.

  “So, do we have any more requests for stops before we hit the road?” Header bellowed authoritatively, rubbing his palms together for emphasis.

  “No,” I replied as I shook my head, “as a matter of fact, we want to get on the road sooner rather than later. Warner is due to call us back, which indicates that he has something important to share with us.”

  Header’s eyes widened as he shifted his gaze from me to Holm and back to me again. “A break in the case?”

  “Maybe,” Holm cautioned, warning Header without so many words not to get too excited yet.

  Header turned to Linda with a regretful smile. “I’m outta here,” he muttered.

  Linda wrapped her arms around his waist, struggling a bit with her parcel as she did so, and Header pulled her close. />
  “See you soon, Lin,” he mumbled into her wild crop of brown hair.

  “Bye, Jakey. Don’t be a stranger!” Her tone was upbeat and carefree, but her eyes looked a bit sad. She turned to us with a small smile and shook each of our hands in turn. “I’ll call you both if we stumble across anything remotely intriguing out there. Stay safe and good luck!”

  After exchanging our thanks and our goodbyes, we walked mostly in silence back to Header’s truck and piled in quickly. It had been a short visit to San Juan, but it had been a pleasant one, and I found that I had an awful ache in my chest as Header ambled over the cobblestones toward the highway. There was something about this island that pulled me in, and I didn’t think I’d ever want to leave.

  Chapter 29: Ethan

  Holm’s phone rang when we were about halfway across the island. The city traffic had fallen behind us ages ago, and we were now admiring the lush greenery, valleys, and towns that littered the sides of the highway. When Holm’s jarring ringtone kicked on from the backseat, it snapped me out of my innermost thoughts, slamming me right back into the present, right into the lap of our big case.

  “It’s Warner,” he announced unsurprisingly. He answered the phone and jabbed his thumb down on the speakerphone button before speaking into the microphone. “Hey, Warner, what’s going on?” I pivoted around in my seat to face Holm as we spoke with Warner.

  “I am so sorry, you two,” he replied, his voice flustered and breathy. Shuffling sounds could be heard in the background, along with some yelling that sounded distinctly like Diane Ramsey’s signature sharp tone. “I sent that text, and then the crap hit the fan.”

  “Is everything alright?” I asked, alarm seeping into my voice.

  “Yeah, it has nothing to do with you down there,” he spat out distractedly. “Muñoz and Birn are working a particularly messy case that has Ramsey, well, being Ramsey.”

  Holm chortled, and I couldn’t help but laugh, too. I knew exactly what Warner was referring to about Diane, but I hoped for his sake that she hadn’t heard his comment. When she was on a warpath, no one was safe. I had learned that lesson too many times.