by Kelly Irvin
“That’s kind of you, but it’s not necessary. Enjoy your lunch.”
His sad gaze said there was little chance of that. “I hope you find your brother. You go now.”
They left him standing in the middle of his yard, staring at the taco as if he didn’t know what to do with it.
Chapter 22
Country living had a certain appeal to a city cop. The well-graded gravel road on the Mendez ranch circled in a wide arc in front of a stone and wood ranch-style house of mammoth proportions. A tan Suburban sat off to one side next to a smaller SUV and a black Lexus. Eli contemplated the porch dotted with white wooden rocking chairs. At first glance, perfectly idyllic. An auburn Labrador retriever bounded down the steps, tail wagging, bark friendly. For a retired sheriff, Mr. Mendez was doing mighty well for himself. Ranching in the broiling heat and rain-bereft, mesquite-and-nopal country surrounding Laredo couldn’t be much more lucrative than law enforcement.
Eli let his gaze range to the outbuildings. A red barn bigger than his parents’ home, a few smaller structures. Two ATVs. A chicken coop and a bunch of chickens. Picture perfect.
As much as he needed Gabby to be safe, Eli missed her company and her sharp mind. And he would appreciate her woman’s perspective. She’d been too angry at him—at the situation—to speak during the drive back to George and Piper’s house. Other than to remind him she expected a full report in no more than three hours.
She expected him to return safely.
At least that meant she cared what happened to him.
He turned off the engine and stared at the house. Gabby’s take on Sunny Mendez, given to him the previous evening, ran through his mind. “She’s looking for a way out of all this. Daddy’s a traditional father of Mexican American descent. In his culture, sons and daughters live at home until married. Sunny wants her own life. So she latches on to a guy she knows Daddy will like—law enforcement. Figures he’ll fight it less. Turns on all the charm and reels Jake in like a salmon to its spawning grounds.”
She got all that from ten minutes in a room full of cops.
“You’re not the only one who studies people. Chefs are like bartenders. We’re people persons.”
Gabby was not, nor had ever been, a people person. She was as prickly as a crowded pin cushion on the outside, but soft as a featherbed on the inside. It took a long time to get to know her, but once she latched on to a person, she held on. Unless someone did something stupid, like break her heart.
“Stop living in the past. Do better.” That’s what his shrink said. That’s what his friends said. That’s what his pastor-slash-father said. That was hard to do when the past showed up at your door with a living, breathing reminder of a man’s mistakes, his sins.
He shoved open the door, hopped out, and slammed it. The retriever approached, tail beating the air. Not a guard dog. He held out his fingers. The dog sniffed. His mouth went wide in what could only be described as a smile. Eli patted his head. The dog woofed in a follow-me-fashion and led Eli to the primitive wood door with a stained-glass window of a hummingbird. He knocked and waited.
Nothing.
More knocking.
Sunny opened the door. The sleepy look on her face disappeared, replaced by hope. “Did you find him?” She glanced over Eli’s shoulder. “Is Jake with you?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
The dog barked once and ducked between them. “I was so hopeful.” She knelt and hugged the dog. “Honey misses Jake too. She doesn’t take to most strangers, but she’s a very good judge of character. That’s why she liked him and she likes you.”
Eli petted Honey some more and took the moment to study Jake’s alleged fiancée. It was possible she looked even more angelic in her pink sundress and bare feet than she had Friday night. When she finally stood and shook hands with him, hers felt like a small velvet bag of fragile bones. “Can you tell me anything? Any little bit of progress? I’m so worried about him I can’t sleep. I can’t eat.”
“I’m sorry. We talked to Larry Teeter this morning. He said the ATF had nothing new.” Eli watched her face. Her expression didn’t change at the mention of Teeter’s name. “You knew Jake’s partner, right? Larry Teeter.”
A thin vertical line formed between her eyebrows as she thought. She shrugged. “I think I met him once, maybe. So, he didn’t know anything else? Are they looking for Jake?”
“Those guys couldn’t find their umbrellas in a rainstorm.” A man the size of a professional football player stood in the doorway. With a bushy silver beard and a silver ponytail that escaped a black cowboy hat, a black leather vest, plaid Western-style shirt, and blue jeans creased down the front, he looked like a cross between John the Baptist and John Wayne. The rifle in his hands did nothing to soften that impression. “Who’s our guest, Mirasol?”
Her pensive face transformed by a smile, Sunny straightened. “Daddy, this is Detective Eli Cavazos. Remember, I told you about him.”
“You didn’t tell me you invited him out to the house.” His tone registered on the friendly scale but held a note of interrogatory. “And Jake’s sister. She didn’t come?”
Interesting question. “She’s gone back to San Antonio to be with family while they wait for word.”
The lie came easily. Mendez was an unknown quantity. Sunny’s trustworthiness remained to be quantified. No sense taking any chances.
“I’m sure it’s a difficult time for her.” Mendez held out his free hand as if to shake. Eli inclined his head toward the firearm. A long, slow smile followed. “Just getting ready to shoot me some javelina, Detective. No need to be so tense.”
“I tend to be wary of armed men.”
“Sorry.” He laid the rifle on a long, narrow table that ran the length of the tiled foyer under a gold-framed mirror. “Maybe you’d like to join me. We’ll have a late lunch. Then we can all go together. Sunny is quite a shot.”
Sunny’s petite nose wrinkled. “It’s too hot, Daddy. Don’t make Detective Cavazos tramp around in the dirt with all the mosquitoes and rattlesnakes. That’s no way to treat a guest.”
“I suppose you’re right, mi hija.” Mendez dropped a kiss on his daughter’s head. His hand caressed her hair. “We should feed him first. Go tell Leo to prepare food.”
No sign of discord here. In fact, they seemed the picture of a loving father and daughter. The doting quotient made Eli’s sweet tooth ache. The primary goal was to interrogate her. Not to spend an afternoon shooting wild hogs. “Lunch would be great and it would give us a chance to chat before we go busting animals for pork chops.”
Mendez patted his rifle, as if to soothe hurt feelings that its services wouldn’t be needed right away, after all. “Sunny’ll get the cook started on lunch. We can have a drink, eat, and then I’ll see what kind of shot an SAPD officer is away from his natural habitat. How about a Corona and a shot of Jose Cuervo while lunch is prepared?”
“Iced tea or water would be great.” Eli made a show of looking at his watch. It was one o’clock. “I’ve got a lot of stops today.”
“Fine, that’s fine. I’m sure my daughter will reappear any minute.” Mendez waved him toward the hallway. “You’ll have to forgive her. She’s been beside herself since her young man disappeared.”
“Nothing to forgive. I’m hoping she’ll remember something that will help us figure out where he is.”
“She’s been interrogated by half a dozen people already.” Mendez moved ahead, his stride that of a much younger man. “It hasn’t helped find Jake Benoit. And it’s made her a wreck.”
“I’m sure you can imagine how difficult this is for the family. You can see what it’s doing to your daughter—and she’s only known Jake, what, a few months?”
They moved into an enormous living room overpowered by the largest stone fireplace and mantel Eli had ever seen. “Four months.” Mendez’s tone was mild. “I’m going to look for my daughter.”
A smile carved on his craggy face, he strode from the room, his
ostrich-skin cowboy boots clicking on the rose tile.
The minutes stretched until it seemed Eli’s presence had been forgotten. Finally, Mendez returned, Sunny behind him with a tray laden with glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. “I’m sorry it took so long. I wanted to make the lemonade fresh.”
They sat. The next thirty minutes were excruciating in their politeness. Mendez expertly steered the conversation away from Jake and Sunny’s relationship while Sunny seemed to listen to his stories with rapt attention as if she’d never heard them before.
Every time Eli moved toward that topic, Mendez came up with a new story about his days in law enforcement or Laredo politics. He played the “do you remember so and so” game well. Most of the big names Eli did remember, but he’d done a good job of blocking them out.
Finally, lunch was served in an airy dining room that featured a half-dozen floor-to-ceiling windows with filmy white, lacy curtains. A feast had been laid out on a vast pine table that seated twelve. Much more than sandwiches. Venison steaks, Caesar salads, cottage fries, fresh fruit, apple pie. Eli couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a meal that didn’t come out of a bag or a box—not since Gabby broke up with him. He turned down a second and third offer of a beer.
“How did you meet Jake, Sunny?”
Sunny picked up her glass, moved it to the other side of her plate without drinking. “I ran into him at a party at a friend’s house. I did her decorating, so she invited me to the unveiling, so to speak.” She traced the condensation on her glass, her gaze flitting to her father and back to the glass. “I didn’t know Jake was an agent then. I just saw him and thought he was . . .”
Jake had that power over women, no doubt. Eli had watched women catch sight of him for the first time. They did a double take—every time. Sort of the same thing Gabriella had elicited in Eli for the first time five years ago when she was still an assistant DA. She had those same blue eyes, fair skin, and fine bone structure her brother did. But her hair was blonde, his auburn like Natalie’s. Eli had testified in a case she was prosecuting. Even in her dark-blue suit and high heels, she’d exuded charisma.
Eli forced himself to focus on Jake’s love life, not his own miserable mistakes. “So you introduced yourself? It was love at first sight?”
“My friend introduced me.” Her gaze found her father and then skipped back to the salad she was picking at with her fork. She had yet to take an actual bite of food. “Jake was nice, really polite, but not much of a talker. I did all the talking at first. It’s a wonder he didn’t run the other direction. But he didn’t. He asked me for my number instead.”
“How did you find out he was ATF?”
“He told me the first time we met for coffee. He was like that. He took things slowly. I liked that about him.”
Her father dropped his napkin on his plate and stood. “Since you aren’t interested in hunting things that bleed, we could do some target practice instead. I have my own shooting range.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t have time for target practice with Jake missing.” Eli tried to sound apologetic. “Sunny, you said the day Jake went missing you were waiting for a phone call from him, but it never came. Why didn’t you mention that you had an appointment with my . . . with Reverend Cavazos for marriage counseling?”
Sunny glanced at her father. His bushy eyebrows rose and fell. She sighed. “It was supposed to be our secret. We’d only known each other a short time, and I knew people would find it hard to believe.”
“Ah, to be young and in love.” Mendez’s chuckle sounded genuine. “They hardly know each other and they want to get married. Can you imagine, Detective?”
“I’ve known Jake a while. He tends to have that effect on people.” Eli scooted his chair back and dropped his napkin on the table. “When a person knocks your socks off like that, there’s no going back, is there?”
“I think he was as surprised as I was. It was like we got on a nonstop flight and we couldn’t get off.” Sunny sniffed and wiped at her face with her napkin. “He’s the one who suggested we see Reverend Cavazos. It was his idea. Then he didn’t even show up.”
Her father sighed. “I’m sorry, m’jita. I know that must’ve hurt. Maybe he was able to disembark from that nonstop flight, after all.”
“Did you object to your daughter dating Jake?”
“He seemed like a good man, but to be honest, I had mixed feelings.” Mendez took a long swallow of his Tecate. His expression somber, he settled the bottle on the table with a thump. “I love my daughter. You know as well as I do the badge is a double-edged sword. A man might know how to defend himself and his loved ones, but on the other hand, he’s constantly called upon to risk his life. And occasionally, the lives of those he loves.”
Eli couldn’t argue with that. It seemed unlikely that he would have the opportunity to speak to Sunny alone. Mendez had years of experience in law enforcement. He knew all the players in this part of the country. Time to change tactics. “What’s your take on the situation here in Laredo in regard to gun smuggling?”
Mendez’s face relaxed. “Same as the rest of the border towns between here and California. It’s thriving.”
“What do you think of the Feds’ efforts to stop the flow of guns into Mexico?”
“I think they’re in a tiny tugboat on the open ocean in the middle of a tsunami.”
Nice metaphor. “You haven’t heard anything specific about the players in this region?”
“A man hears a lot of rumors.” He covered his mouth and burped. “Not ones he cares to repeat. We have four international bridges. Border Patrol agents are spread thin. Bringing in National Guardsmen who can’t actually patrol can’t even be called a bandage. The wall can’t go up fast enough as far as I’m concerned.”
“Did you and Jake have any conversations about his job?”
“Very little.”
“He didn’t pick your brains?”
“He listened to my stories when he came to pick up Mirasol. He had good manners.”
Mendez should’ve been a gold mine of information. Jake wouldn’t want to divulge any aspect of his operation, but Sunny’s father might have provided some tiny piece of the puzzle. “Do you know Luke Donovan?”
Sunny knocked over her glass of tea. It soaked the tablecloth and ran onto the tile floor. She jumped from her chair. “I’m so sorry.”
“Get Lourdes to clean it up.” Mendez shook his head. His daughter darted from the room. “Sometimes she has the social graces of a goat, but who can blame her? A girl needs her mother.”
Sunny was an adult. Treating her like a child didn’t change that. “If I may ask, where is her mother?”
“You were asking me about Luke. I know him. We occasionally socialize. The man throws a good pachanga.”
Changing the subject was Mendez’s way of telling him his personal life was not Eli’s business. “You stay in touch with your friends in law enforcement. I figure you would’ve heard any noise about him.”
“I may have heard chatter here and there. He spends a lot of money for a man who should be ready to retire.” Mendez glanced toward the doorway. “It seems my daughter has lost herself again.”
“What do you know about Donovan’s business?”
Mendez selected a toothpick from a delicate ceramic bowl on the table. He rolled it between thick finger and thumb. “Import-export of nice furniture, jewelry, fancy crystal. I’m sure he does well, just not that well.”
“Do you think he might be in business with the cartel?”
Mendez’s gaze meandered toward the view afforded by the enormous window—open fields as far as Eli could see. “Ask yourself how he can afford the big house, the fancy cars, the trips to Europe.”
“I am.”
“Why ask me?”
“I’m told you have your finger on the pulse of this town.”
“Donovan and I don’t move in the same circles. Other than our service in Vietnam, we have nothing in common. I
’m not interested in the gossip of old biddies. I’m old and as retired as a man with a family ranch can be.” Mendez stood. “I enjoy a smoke after lunch. Care to join me? Lourdes knows to bring my coffee to the study.”
A smoke sounded good. Eli glanced down the hallway as they walked away from the dining room. No sign of Sunny. Had the demise of her tea glass been an accident brought on by the mention of Donovan’s name, or a ploy for leaving the room to get out of discussing him? Either way, she was gone.
The study turned out to be a gun room. No books. Instead, a display of weapons that ranged from pistols to what looked like a submachine gun of the Bonnie-and-Clyde variety covered three walls. The hair stood up on Eli’s neck. Serious firepower. His hand went to his hip to the touchstone provided by his own weapon. “Nice. This is an impressive collection. What is it? World War II?”
“Good eye.” Mendez went through the ritual of snipping the cigar with a V-cutter and lighting it with a match. The fragrance billowed through the room as he puffed. “Sure you don’t want one? They’re Davidoff Nicaraguan. All Nicaraguan tobacco. Very smooth. Full bodied.”
He talked about cigars the way he did guns and his daughter. His most important possessions.
“Thanks. I’ll pass.” Eli sucked in the smoke. The scent of savory wood with a touch of spice—cinnamon maybe—filled his nostrils. He wasn’t technically smoking, but he could still get a hit of nicotine. “Tell me about the guns. Are they legal? Can they be used?”
Mendez laughed. “Spoken like a true LEO.” He went to the first display. “This is an M1 Carbine designed by David Williams, the only major gun designer to be a former convict. It’s fairly common but representative of rifles used during WWII.”
His hand caressed the barrel and moved on to a second rifle. “This M1 Garand was a workhorse. General George Patton called it ‘the greatest battle implement ever devised,’ and it was at the time. Soldiers could load an eight-round en-bloc chip into the rifle and have a semiautomatic.”
