“I’ve read it. Over and over.” She’d even memorized some of the passages, for all the good it had done.
Her mom squeezed her hand. “Read Job 39 and pay attention to what it says about God’s power.”
Danny cornered Angel after Solana took Maria upstairs for a nap. “Do you want to take a ride with me?”
Angel’s eyebrows raised. “Depends on what kind of ride you’re talking about and who’s going along.”
“Just me and you. We’re going to go talk to Geoffrey Franks.” Angel didn’t bat an eye at Franks’s name.
Angel shrugged. “And you want backup?”
The guy was cool. Danny would have to give him that. Or he’d been telling the truth and didn’t know anything about the Blue Dog Company. “Something like that.”
After they got in the car and turned to the right out of the drive, Danny glanced at his passenger. “Tell me something . . .”
Angel laughed. “When someone starts a sentence with those words, the other person’s guard goes up.”
“Is yours up?”
“Not yet. Which do you want to know about? Edward or Joel?”
Danny doubted he’d ever be able to use the element of surprise with Angel. “Both, but right this minute, I’m interested to know why you accused your uncle of killing your parents.”
“It’s not an accusation. It’s true. Edward has always taken the easier road. He wanted what my father had, but he didn’t want to do the hard work to get it. He may not have planted the bomb under their car that killed them when I was fifteen, but he was involved. He took over the business, their house, and put me on the streets.”
“How? Didn’t your father leave a will?”
“I’m certain he did, but I couldn’t find it, and there was no record of it at the lawyer’s office. Father’s old solicitor had died, and many of his papers were missing. Like the contract where my father had bought Edward out.” Angel grimaced. “My uncle produced his father’s original will, leaving the company to both sons with the provision if one died, his share of the company went to the survivor. Without Father’s will and the contract, I didn’t have a case.”
Angel’s voice, devoid of emotion, sent chills through Danny. “What proof do you have that he was responsible for their deaths?”
“None. People like my uncle do not leave evidence behind.”
“Then how can you be so sure he did it?”
“My father told me.”
“How?”
“He left a letter with a friend to give to me and my mother if anything happened to him. I don’t think he ever believed my mother would be killed with him.” He drummed the console with his fingers. “If I had not had ball practice that afternoon, I would’ve been with them as well.”
“What did the letter say?”
“For me to make sure Edward didn’t get away with his murder. To look at his business associates.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, but it is impossible to know everyone he associates with, and like I said before, men like my uncle don’t leave evidence lying about. I will exact my own justice.”
Passion drove Angel, allowing him to justify breaking the law to get justice. But would that extend to buying illegal guns?
He parked in the drive and climbed out of his SUV. The garage door was down and the blinds pulled. Not surprising.
“You think this guy is home?”
“One way to find out. Coming with me?”
“Why are you doing this?”
Danny jerked his head toward Angel. “What?”
“Coming out here to question this man. Do you really think he’ll give you any answers?”
A slow flush crept up Danny’s neck. “Won’t know until I ask.”
He stuck his Glock in his belt, and together they walked to the front door and rang the doorbell. Finally, the wooden door swung open.
Franks kept the screen door between them and shifted his gaze from Danny to Angel, then back to Danny. Franks didn’t seem to recognize Angel. “What do you want?”
“Ben Logan said you were cutting a deal with the DA.”
“That’s none of your business. Get off my property.” He opened the screen door, revealing a .38 revolver in his hand.
Angel and Danny stepped back. “Whoa!” Danny said. “I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions.”
Franks glowered at him, then his gaze slid past him to Angel. “You and your bodyguard there better beat it. I’ve called my lawyer. The next time you step on my property, you’ll be breaking a court order, and I have a right to protect myself.”
“Is that a threat?”
Franks cocked the revolver.
Danny held up his hands. “Okay, we’re going.”
He didn’t think his former employee would shoot him in the back, but nevertheless, he didn’t relax until he’d driven away from the house.
“That was a pretty stupid trick you just pulled,” Angel said once they were safely back in the SUV. “But if you figured out that I didn’t know him and he didn’t know me, then I’m glad you were stupid.”
Danny’s face burned. “I didn’t think he had it in him to threaten me with a gun.”
“I learned a long time ago, a cornered rat will do almost anything. Tell me more about this Blue Dog Company and the evidence you have on Franks.”
A twinge of guilt for not completely trusting Angel pinged his conscience. “Okay, the operation went like this—Franks stole rifle parts, and either he or the other person charged with the crime put the rifles together, and then the rifles were added to shipments that went to Montoya Ceramics and labeled as glaze. They were then off-loaded at the Blue Dog Company before the rest of the shipment was delivered to your uncle. Earlier this week I went to the address on the invoices, but it was no more than an empty building. Chavez indicated there was another building, a warehouse, but he wouldn’t give me the address.”
“Wasn’t Franks afraid the guns would be traced back to Maxwell Industries?”
“He stole the receivers before they were stamped, so they couldn’t be traced to any company. If his partner hadn’t been on a vendetta against Ben Logan, they probably would have gotten away with their little operation for years. As it was, they’d been stealing the parts and selling them for a couple of years.”
“You say he was caught last summer?”
Danny nodded.
“So that means the operation was going while I was in a Texas hospital.”
That’s what had been nagging at the back of his mind. Angel couldn’t be Franks’s Mexico contact if he’d been in the hospital. He shot a quick look at Angel. The man had read his mind. “Okay, so I’m a slow learner.”
“You could have asked.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone where you were?”
A sigh escaped Angel’s lips. “That’s a question I’ve asked myself over and over. If I had, Claire might still be alive. But . . .” He shifted his gaze out the window. “The doctors did not hold out much hope that I would live to my friends who got me to the hospital. They feared the cartel would find me and finish the job, so they told everyone I was dead. By the time I was able to correct the lie, six months had passed. I was in a wheelchair, unable to walk, and almost wished I was dead. I couldn’t let anyone see me until I was whole again. By that time, Claire had accidentally mixed the two medicines . . . Maria seemed happy enough, and I put off revealing myself to her.”
“It would have been hard to know who to trust,” Danny said.
“Yes, like you with this Blue Dog Company.”
Danny shot him a wry grin. “You do have a good reason to want rifles, especially ones like the AR15 that Franks was selling. You and Chavez said the subject of rifles was one of the things to be discussed at the meeting where you were ambushed. And Joel made it sound like you had been buying illegal guns. I just didn’t put the timing together.”
“I understand, and Chavez was correct as far as he knew. Joel supposedly set up the meeting to dis
cuss an alliance between me and my men and the Federal police in Chihuahua, and we were going to discuss arming my men. But I believe he set it up to get rid of me and was acting under my uncle’s orders. I am a thorn in Edward Montoya’s side. Unfortunately, I cannot prove it yet, but when I return to Mexico, I will find a way to corroborate it.”
“Do you plan to take Maria back with you?”
“If I can find a way to keep her safe, yes.”
Danny drove the next few miles silently, absorbing the information he’d learned. What Joel said versus what he knew about Angel. The man had risked his life for Maria and Bailey, and that put him way ahead of Joel, but what if Angel had an agenda Danny knew nothing about? Still . . .
“Are there any other rooms available at the bed-and-breakfast?”
“I don’t know. You’re not thinking . . . ?”
“If there are rooms available and Joel hasn’t found a place to stay, I would like for him to stay there.”
“And your reasoning is?”
“I remember a saying from one of your old movies—keep your friends close but your enemies closer.”
Danny grinned. “Michael Corleone said that in the second Godfather movie.”
“I have discovered it is valuable advice.”
16
Bailey didn’t really think God kept score of her mistakes. Or did she?
She’d continued to sit in the pottery shop long after her mother left, mulling over her words.
Peace and joy were possible—sometimes she even possessed both. But when something went wrong, like Father Horatio or the cartel, fear and anxiety took over her life. She quit trusting God.
She wasn’t sure how she’d go about really trusting God, but recognizing the problem was the first step. The next step was to focus on what God had done, like keeping them safe this week.
The security buzzer rang, and she glanced up at the security TV. Joel, in the driveway. Good—she had a few questions for him. She hurried inside the house, speaking to her mom and Maria in the kitchen as she slipped on her jacket.
“We’re making apple dumplings,” her mom said.
Maria waved a small rolling pin. “I’m rolling out the biscuits.”
“Can’t wait,” Bailey said. The doorbell rang, and she hurried down the hallway to let Joel in.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon, but I’m glad you are,” she said. “We haven’t had a chance to talk at all.”
“I know. Where’s Maria?” He looked past her.
“Mom has her busy. Why don’t we take a walk?”
“Sure.”
The air was invigorating, but a cold front had dropped the temperature from earlier in the day, and Bailey pulled her coat tight against the wind as they walked down the drive. “Angel told Maria he was her father, so you may have questions to answer.”
He nodded. “Leave it to Angel to make my life harder.”
She laughed. “You’re surprised he told her?”
“No, I assumed he would, just not so soon.”
Sunlight filtered through the oak trees that lined the drive. They were beginning to bud, a sure sign winter was over.
Joel cleared his throat. “I’ve noticed Maria isn’t wearing her necklace, so I’d like to take it back for safekeeping. It’s quite expensive, you know.”
She glanced sharply at him. “Maybe you’d like the one you gave me back as well.”
He paled. “Of course not. Forget I said anything.”
She would. Especially since she’d rather not tell him the necklace broke, since he was so preoccupied about the price. Hopefully, she’d have it back before Joel asked about it again. They walked in silence for a few minutes.
“What’s that?” Joel pointed to a green clump.
“Daffodils.” She smiled. “They’re the first ones I’ve seen this year.”
“I thought maybe that’s what they were. My mother had some when I was growing up.”
“She doesn’t anymore?”
“I doubt it. My father always griped about having to mow around all her flowers. One day he just cut them down.”
“I think Daddy fusses too, but he’d never do that. Mom would have his head. Oh, there’s crocus.” She pointed to another green clump, then gave him a sideways glance. “Have you spoken to your parents today? They didn’t mention you being in the States.”
“They don’t know. I talked with my mother early this morning while she was in the ICU waiting room. Talking to her on a cell phone isn’t the easiest thing in the world, and getting her to call when she’s in the room with my father is next to impossible. She was worried about you and Maria, though, and I reassured her you were all right.”
“She seems really nice.” Dried leaves crunched under their feet. “Tell me about your relationship with Angel,” Bailey said. “I’m visual, so I’ve been trying to see what’s going on as a big picture—like a jigsaw puzzle—but I’m having trouble fitting all the pieces together.”
“It’s because Angel isn’t someone you can put in a nice neat package. He’s too unpredictable, and he will lie to you. If you listen to him, there’s no way you’ll ever have all the pieces.”
“He accused you of leading him into a trap.”
“But I didn’t. I was just trying to help my sister’s husband get straight with the law. Angel believes the end justifies the means. At first he stayed under the radar of the Federal police, and I turned my head the other way. But when he started using Claire to procure rifles—I had to stop him.”
“She told you she was helping him?”
“No. I was at their house babysitting Maria one night and found invoices in her handwriting. I confronted Angel, told him if he wanted to join forces with the Federal police and work against the Calatrava, I had a contact there.”
“Why were you going through his papers?”
“I wasn’t.” He kicked at an acorn on the drive. “They were on the desk in the living room. He agreed to a meeting.”
“The one where he was shot.”
“Yes, as well as my contact. I didn’t know he was Sergeant Chavez’s brother.” Joel fell silent for a minute. “I don’t know what went wrong that day. While the Federals wanted to rein Angel in, the Calatrava had a contract on his head. Someone informed them that Angel was meeting with the Federals.”
“So all this time, you believed he was dead?”
“Yes. I don’t know why he didn’t get word to us that he was alive. If he had, Claire might still . . .” He kicked at another acorn. “As it was, she just gave up.”
“I don’t think he could contact you. He almost died in the gun battle and spent months in a Texas hospital.”
“He could have if he’d wanted to.” They’d reached the hand-carved signs that advertised her mother’s pottery shop and bed-and-breakfast, and Joel nodded toward the road. “Go back or keep walking?”
Cold had seeped through her coat, sending a shiver through her. “Let’s go back to the house. I’m sure you want to spend time with Maria.”
Twice she’d glanced up and found him looking at her the same way Danny did. She looked up, and he was doing it again. And like before, he quickly averted his gaze.
“Those signs,” he said. “Who made them? They’re quite unique.”
“My dad. He’s quite good with a carving knife, almost as good as my mom is with her pottery.”
“Claire loved working with clay. She was very talented. Sometime I’d like to see your mother’s work.”
“I’ll tell her. She’d be pleased to show you.” Bailey jammed her cold hands into her coat pocket. “I’ve never known for sure how Claire died.”
“A drug reaction. Her doctor gave her an antidepressant, but she was also taking an herbal concoction that increased her serotonin level, causing what the doctors called serotonin syndrome. By the time they diagnosed her problem, she’d slipped into a coma. Then it was too late.”
“That is so sad.”
“Yes.” He put his hand o
n her arm. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for Maria. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“Nothing to repay me for. Maria is such a sweetheart.”
“Yes, she is. And I’m glad for the opportunity to get to know you better. After all that’s happened, will you return to Mexico?”
“I have to finish my contract, but after that . . .” She shrugged. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”
“I don’t blame you for that.”
“I’ve been thinking about something Solana said—that if all the law-abiding citizens leave Mexico, the drug cartels will win. I’d like to think when this is all over, I’ll want to go back and try to make a difference.”
“That’s a noble sentiment, but it’s not our fight. Waging war on the drug cartels is futile and foolish. It’s best to just mind your own business.”
Joel’s declaration added to her confusion. “Someone has to stop them.”
“The Mexican people are the ones who have to stand up to them, not foreigners.”
“Like Angel?” They had reached the house and climbed the steps to the front door.
“No, not some vigilante but someone who will work within the framework of the government.” He opened the door, and a tantalizing aroma met them. “What do I smell?” he asked.
“Apple dumplings. Maria was helping my mom bake them. Let’s go see if they’re done.”
When they pushed the swinging door open, Maria was standing on a chair at the sink, wearing an oversized apron. “Uncle Joel, I’m washing dishes. Miss Kate said when we cook, we have to clean up.”
“Good for you, Mrs. Adams.”
“We don’t stand on formalities around here. The name is Kate.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She dried her hands on a paper towel. “I need to check the kiln. Help yourself to an apple dumpling.”
“Thanks.”
Bailey helped Maria take off the apron. The child tilted her head toward Joel. “Did Tio come with you?”
“No, he’s busy with work. Perhaps some evening you can go with me to the hotel to see him.” Joel patted her on the head. “But a little bird told me you did a good job cooking.”
“Mm-huh. We’re having a . . . a cel—” Maria cut her eyes to Bailey. “What are we having?”
Silence in the Dark Page 16
