Shadow Of Betrayal

by Nora Kane

  “He’s good with people leaving a bloody mess in the local motel?”

  “No, he’s just been around long enough to know some things you don’t ever get an answer to. We’re in the desert, after all. If someone decides to bury a body, it won’t be easy to find. It’s why we’re all hoping the blood is Stick’s. Otherwise, it’s probably a mystery no one is going to solve. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”

  “Too young to be cynical?”

  “I guess so. Does the email solve this thing?”

  “Hardly,” Margot said as she retrieved her phone. She pulled up the email and let Brantley read it.

  “Locals? I’m a local.”

  “Yes, you are,” Margot said as she eyed the deputy with some suspicion. She knew as well as anybody that being in law enforcement didn’t mean one wasn’t a criminal.

  “Well, I didn’t do it.”

  “If you say so. Does that number mean anything to you?”

  “Huh?” Brantley said as he read the number.

  “That sounds like it does mean something to you.”

  “Not really. Nothing that would make sense anyway.”

  “Tell me anyway. No one else has come up with anything.”

  “You ever heard of Geocaching?”

  “No, I don’t think so. What is it?”

  “It’s like a game people play. I’m not sure of all the details but basically, someone hides something and then gives out the GPS coordinates and people use those to find what they hid.”

  “What do they hide?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s anything special. Finding it is the fun part. I don’t think what they find is important.”

  “So, it’s a journey not the destination kind of thing?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I never played. I just know because the desert is one of the places they like to play, so I’ve run into them a few times out in some remote spot. I pull up thinking it’s teenagers getting their drink on or smoking some pot and find a bunch of middle-aged people checking the longitude and latitude.”

  “You think these numbers are longitude and latitude?”

  “I don’t know what they are, but they could be. The X doesn’t fit, but the numbers look right. Could be some sort of code too.”

  “Why would Stick send a code to my sister and I?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe you weren’t the only ones he sent it too.”

  “He only sent it to my sister. I was on the email, but he messed up my address and I didn’t get it.”

  “That doesn’t mean he didn’t send it to someone else separately.”

  “No, it doesn’t. I know he didn’t send it to his partner. I showed him and he didn’t know what the numbers meant either.”

  “Well, I guess this will remain a mystery. Unless you want to come out to the desert and see if there’s something hidden at those coordinates.”

  “Assuming they are coordinates and aren’t in Europe or Mongolia.”

  “Yeah, both those places are out of my jurisdiction,” Brantley said as he retrieved his phone.

  He messed with it while Margot ate some of her taco and sipped her whiskey. Before long, Brantley smiled and turned the phone to Margot. He’d googled the GPS coordinates for Borrego Springs, CA. Margot didn’t know much about longitude or latitude. What she’d learned back in grade school was long forgotten, but the big numbers were the same and smaller numbers were awfully close.

  “It looks like it’s a little out of town, but those coordinates are a lot closer to Borrego Springs than Mongolia,” Brantley told her.

  “I noticed.”

  “So, you want to come check it out?”

  “Are you inviting me out to the desert with you?”

  “No, I’m a happily married man. I’m inviting you out to the desert as a sheriff’s deputy looking to take advantage of your experience, expertise, and familiarity with the case. Do you want some more tacos?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “Hey, I get why you wouldn’t want to go out there.”

  “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I want to go out there?”

  “It didn’t end well for the last person to come out there poking around. From what I hear, Stickley was supposed to be a tough operator.”

  “Are you saying I’m not?”

  “No, from what I hear you’re no slouch either. What I’m saying is, it didn’t make any difference.”

  “I thought you wanted me to go.”

  “Sure, as a consultant to my department. I don’t want you going up there by yourself in an unofficial capacity.”

  “What makes you think I’d do that?”

  “Ames and Radcliff. They said that, besides being occasionally hostile, you don’t listen when people tell you to leave something alone. Are they wrong?”

  “No, not completely, but I wasn’t planning to do anything but stay out of the way on this one.”

  “I can see that, though I wouldn’t bet on Ames or your boyfriend checking out those coordinates any time soon.”

  “You could check them.”

  “I will be. I just thought you might pick up something I might miss.”

  “I have a date tomorrow night.”

  “If we do this right, you’ll be back in time. If not, I’m going to bet your detective boyfriend has had to cancel on you because of work.”

  “Is this work? Normally for work I like to get paid.”

  “You’re coming out as a consultant. That sounds like work to me.”

  “Paid consultant?”

  “That’s not something I can approve, but if I ask and they say yes, are you going to do it?”

  Margot took a drink and thought about it for a second before saying, “Sure, why not?”

  “Excellent. You sure you don’t want more tacos?”

  “Yeah, but you knock yourself out.”

  Brantley went to get more tacos. While he was out, he must have made a phone call because when he sat down, he said, “Congrats, you are officially a consultant for the San Diego Sheriff’s department Borrego Springs division.”

  “Awesome.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get too excited. They don’t pay for shit and they only agreed to one day.”

  Chapter 7

  Margot watched Brantley devour two more plates of tacos and three more beers while she told him more about Randy, his mother, and her sister than she wanted to. She still wasn't sure what to make of him.

  Brantley seemed disappointed in the one-day part of Margot’s new job, but Margot figured one day was more than enough. More than likely she and Brantley would drive out to the coordinates and not find a damn thing. While Brantley’s geocaching theory was by far the best Margot had heard so far, it still seemed pretty thin.

  She was thinking about this as she drove home when she noticed the same set of headlights make three turns with her. She tried to tell herself she didn’t have to be as paranoid anymore. Dean Stone had made a deal with the cartel to rat out the current leadership in exchange for them calling off any bad intention they had towards, him, Margot, and Mal. It turned out, though, that the habit of constantly looking for people following her was hard to break.

  Margot opened her purse and let her gun, mace, and telescoping baton spill out onto the seat. She picked up the gun and put it in her lap.

  Margot managed to put a car between her and her tail. She swung an illegal U-turn at the next light, turning from the middle lane instead of the turn lane. Since she had the arrow and no one was turning left at the time, it wasn’t that risky of a maneuver. Even her car built for gas mileage instead of speed was able to pull it off.

  While it was a low risk, it caught her pursuer off guard enough that she found herself heading their way. She had the gun in her hand when her headlights fell on her pursuer. She put it down on the passenger seat as Mal waved at her.

  Margot didn’t wave back. Instead, she pulled into the parking lot of a liquor store. The lot was empty, but she still parked by the s
treet. She put her weapons back in her purse and then got out to wait for Mal.

  An older, short, squat, woman who was probably the owner poked her head out of the door and said, “Parking is for customers only.”

  “If you mind your own damn business, someone will buy something,” Margot told her.

  The liquor store owner looked like she was going to say something else but thought better of it and went back inside.

  Mal made the same U-turn but did it legally. He pulled in and parked a space away from Margot and got out of his car as well. They met in the empty space between the cars.

  “Why are you following me?” Margot asked.

  “The usual reasons.” Margot raised an eyebrow and Mal added, “You’re still not safe.”

  “Are you still worried about the cartel?”

  “Damn right.”

  “All indications show Dean Stone’s deal came through. The people who thought it was a good idea to make us dead are either in custody or on the run.”

  “That only makes them slightly less dangerous. Stone might have made things better, but there are a lot of people loyal to the old regime and we both know these assholes never forget anything.”

  Margot wished she could tell him he was wrong, but she couldn’t.

  Instead, she asked, “How long have you been following me? Is this your new job? Tailing Margot?”

  Mal didn’t answer.

  “So, do you have a new job?”

  “I figured I was still working for you.”

  “Yeah? Last I checked, you were working for the people you claim you’re protecting me from.”

  “I was doing that for you. If you’d let me do what needed to be done, all this would be over.”

  “Did you say, ‘Do what needed to be done’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you say what that was? You were going to execute a man for the cartel.”

  “It’s not like they gave me a lot of choice.”

  Margot could see that the bruises on his wrists from when then had handcuffed him and hung him from the ceiling had healed. He had never said what happened, but she figured they didn’t just ask him politely once they had him chained up.

  “I know. But you need to know I didn’t feel like I had a choice either.”

  “That’s not true. You did have a choice, but I forgive you.”

  “Forgive me? Let me ask you this: What you were planning to do with the witnesses after you put a bullet in Dean Stone’s face?”

  “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

  “What about Rick?”

  “You mean Radcliff? I made sure he didn’t see shit.”

  “He would have known. You don’t think he wouldn’t put together Stone getting shot and you tasing him? What were you going to do about him?”

  “I was trying to save you.”

  “It would have worked out great then, wouldn’t it? You get to be the hero and kill my boyfriend. Did you figure we’d be a couple after that?”

  “I wasn’t thinking about any of that. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

  “Just me?”

  “No, I wanted to keep me safe too.”

  “You know what? Why don’t you keep your efforts focused on that from now on?”

  “Look, I’m sorry the way this played out but—”

  “—No, there is no ‘but’. Maybe someday we can put this behind us, but today is not the day. Stay away from me.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yeah, Mal, I do.”

  “You need me.”

  “To do what?”

  “Keep you alive.”

  “Really? Because it seems to me that your strength is making people dead.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Life’s not fair. You could have at least told me what happened, what they told you to do.”

  “All you would have done is talk me out of it.”

  “Exactly. We could have made a plan.”

  “It was the only way.”

  “Except, it wasn’t. We’re both still walking around.”

  “For now, anyway.”

  “I’m going home, Mal. Don’t follow me.”

  Margot turned to go. She was opening her car door when Mal stepped forward and put his hand on the door so she couldn’t open it.

  “You need to move your arm, Mal.”

  “I know and I will. You just need to listen to me for a second.”

  “I think we’ve said all we need to say to each other.”

  “Look out for the cowboy.”

  “The cowboy?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know his name, but he dresses like a cowboy—boots, hat, the whole thing. He’s the one who snatched me and told me I had to kill Stone to make all this go away. I don't think he’s the type who cares about who’s calling the shots as long as he gets to do his thing. The fact his boss doesn’t give a shit about us anymore won’t change the way he feels.”

  “He’d cross his boss to get us?”

  “Do you really think his boss gives a damn about us, one way or the other? Stone made a deal, so he doesn’t care. That works both ways. The new boss won’t come after us, but he won’t give a damn if someone else decides to do it on their own.”

  Margot thought about that for a long second. He wasn’t wrong.

  “So, keep an eye out for a Mexican in a cowboy hat?”

  “Yeah, though he might not be Mexican. I never got a good look at him. The room was mostly dark and the only light was in my face. I saw the hat and I saw the boots. I could tell you he wasn’t short, but that’s about it. For all I know, you just had drinks and dinner with him.”

  “That was a sheriff’s deputy,” Margot told him, adding, “So, if he decides not to wear the hat, we’ll never see him coming?”

  “Yeah, but I think he’ll be wearing the hat.”

  “Why?”

  “Just a feeling. If someone’s coming for us, it’s going to be him,” Mal told her as he moved his hand away from the door.

  “Okay. I’ll be careful,” Margot said as she opened the door and got inside.

  Mal stood where he was like a statue as she started the car.