by Marie Reyes
“No worries. I’m the best covert driver.” Alex bragged.
“Yeah, like when you almost crashed into the car in front a minute ago.” Michael opened the small white bag and picked up a churro. The dough was still warm, and he ate it in two bites.
“That was intentional.” Alex turned the corner.
"Yeah, I’m sure.” Michael licked some sugar from his lips and sucked off the sticky oil from his fingers,
Once they had left Arelanes, they were back on the same highway they’d arrived on, back towards Chetumal. Alex made sure there was always at least one car between them at all times.
“So what are we doing exactly?” Michael asked, wondering what the hell was going through their minds.
“Maybe they lead us to Josie’s sister.” Alex shrugged. Michael hoped his unrelenting, enthusiastic optimism wouldn’t rub off on Josie. Nothing good would come of this. They were in a downward spiral, spinning out of control. He had to get out before he was sucked in any further. After this he would not be going to the consulate. This was it. His money was almost gone, and he had little left to give.
“Quick, overtake this car. We’re going to lose them.” Josie fidgeted in the back seat with a nervous, excited energy—a newfound sense of purpose—practically buzzing. Alex complied and picked up speed to get ahead of the car in front. They were side by side and the other car matched Alex’s speed. The gap had disappeared and Alex weaved a little towards the other lane.
“Careful. Last thing we want it to get arrested,” Josie said as she looked over at Michael. He wondered if she could read his mind. Finally, the gap widened and Alex managed to ease his way in, with honks of protest from the other driver.
“Great. Very covert.” Michael wasn’t one to be a backseat driver, but this was getting painful to watch. He tried to dissociate, let whatever was going to happen, happen. He couldn’t control any of it. He was a backseat driver to his own life, maybe even his own death.
They followed the Chevrolet past the small airport and towards the docks, past landmarks and shops that Michael recognized from when he had been in Julio’s car.
“I wonder if they’re going to Julio’s boat.” Josie thought out loud.
They drove past a road lined with bars and restaurants and followed the car left. A grassy island ran the length of the road, dotted with palms. The Chevrolet was directly in front of them now and slowed to a crawl.
“Why are they stopping? There’s nothing here. They’ve seen us.” Michael was used to being the voice of doom and gloom, but his ten dollar an hour student therapist wouldn’t accuse him of catastrophizing now.
The car pulled up into the dusty layby in front of a chain-link fence that looked like it had seen better days. The conjoining gates were so bent the padlock was redundant. Anyone could slip through the gap. A large barren space, bar for a few heap-of-junk cars dotted around. The yard connected to a small auto-shop. A man with a shaved head sprinted from the garage with phone in hand and went to let the Chevrolet through the gates. Aleksander had no choice but to continue past them and pull around the corner. He parked as close as he could, right on the corner.
“What now, guys?” Alex stopped the engine in front of a small corrugated-iron construction tacked onto one of the main buildings.
Josie got out of the back of the car without saying a word and walked up to the wire fence beyond the property they parked in front of. As Michael followed, Alex got out and locked the car. She stood in front of the fence, watching.
“Can you see anything?” Alex leaned against the fence, curling his fingers around the wire.
“Can they see you?” Michael was tempted to yank them back.
“It’s fine. We’re miles away.” She dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand.
“Slight exaggeration.” He corrected her. Her complete lack of concern was getting to him, unable to relate at all, as he worried about anything and everything. Whether he had left an appliance on would leave him anxious for hours. A job interview would make him feel sick to his stomach for days. Nothing seemed to faze Josie. It’s as if the universe had taken all of her worry and gave it to him.
“Where are a pair of binoculars when you need them?” Her face pressed up against the metal, as close as she could get.
“Here.” Alex jogged back to the car and from his backpack in the backseat, retrieved a compact, black pair of binoculars. He noticed the strange look Josie was giving him. “I like watching birds okay. Thought they might come in handy for this.”
Josie eagerly snatched them from his hand and pointed them into the yard.
“I don’t think we could be anymore obviou—”
“Shh! They’ve put something in the car. Big packs of something. Can’t see.” She adjusted the knob of the binoculars. “There’s two guys. Shit. I can’t be sure, but that guy—yep. That’s Samuel. There’s another guy.”
Michael grabbed the binoculars and put his face up to the lenses, aiming through a gap in the fence—his worse fears confirmed. The image went blurry as the binoculars juddered in his shaking hands. He steadied himself again and saw Julio’s nephew get back in the Chevrolet, and Samuel getting in a red Subaru. “They’re leaving. Back in the car.”
As they pulled back from the gate and turned to the car, they saw a man watching them from the auto-shop entrance. Michael’s throat closed up as he walked towards them.
Chapter Twenty Six
“Can I help you?” This man was short and dumpy with a wide grin, about as nonthreatening as it got.
“Do you sell cars?” Alex swooped in with a charming smile. “It cost so much to rent here, y’know.”
“Not really,” the man said. “I only fix them. Now and then I buy for scrap but sometimes I end up fixing ‘em up.”
“Ah, okay. Thanks anyway.” Alex headed to the car.
“If I have anything in, I let you know.” The man held out a business card.
“That’s great, thanks.” Michael snapped up the card from his hand, eager to hurry this transaction along. “Los siento, we’re in a hurry.” Michael jumped in the back seat and Alex reversed, almost bumping the car behind.
“Not good.” Michael slipped the business card into his pants pocket and tried to calm his trembling hands. “What if they know we’re onto them?”
“It’s okay. I thought Aleksander’s cover story was convincing enough. Quick thinking Alex. I like it.” Josie wound her window down for some air.
***
“Can someone please just tell me what we’re trying to accomplish here?” Michael had no idea where they were now, but they continued to tail Samuel’s car, regardless. On the lonelier stretches of road, they almost lost sight of it. Idiots, was the word that kept popping into Michael’s head as the humidity molded itself around his skin like cling-film, clogging his pores. He could see the newspaper headline now: Three tourists found dead in the jungle.
The thick cover of trees on each side of the road grew sparse, revealing open spaces of thick lush grass, and the road changed from bumpy gravel to smooth light-gray tarmac. The Subaru turned into a driveway. Michael got a glimpse up the long drive as they drove past and found somewhere for them to stop. “Not too close,” he said, looking for somewhere with a bit of cover. They couldn’t park out in the open, so continued to a single-lane road that ran parallel to the drive. Gentle landscaped slopes rose and fell between the two roads.
“Looks like a golf course.” Josie looked out at the man-made hills. “We need to get closer. I wonder if they have security?”
It occurred to him to verbalize how crazy this was, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. When the car came to a stop, it was eerily quiet and Josie reached for the door handle. “Wait.” He put his arm out as if going to stop her. “What’s the plan here?” for once, he felt like the sane one.
“We’re just going to have a look.”
“A look?” He parroted her words back to her, hoping she would realize how ridiculous they sounded
.
“Yeah. A look.” The firmness in her voice solidified the fact that there would be no talking her out of this.
“And then what? Get arrested for trespassing? Get shot? What happened to going to the consulate? Now that was a plan I could get behind.”
“It’ll be fine,” she uttered. It was basically the equivalent of, because I said so. There was no arguing, rationalizing, or reasoning.
“Have you got amnesia or something? Have the last few days just slipped your mind?” He couldn’t conceal his frustration much longer. He wanted Josie and Alex safe. He wanted to be back in his hotel room more than anything.
“We’ll be careful. We won’t get too close. Just scope it out.” She went to open the car door, and Michael stopped her.
“Why don’t you two stay in the car. I will check it out. Just me.” If this was going to happen, he might as well implement some damage control.
“I’m going with you,” she stated emphatically.
“One person would be less noticeable.” That wasn’t the reason he insisted on going alone, and he could tell she knew it too.
“Then I will go alone.” She opened the door and swung it open.
“Like hell you are.” He grabbed her shoulder.
“She’s MY sister.”
“It’s not like she’s going to be here. She’s long gone.” He shut up as soon as he saw her jaw clench.
“Oh so tell me, big strong man, if I weren’t a woman, would you have a problem with me going?”
“What are you even talking about? I don’t want Alex going either.”
“Woah. Cool it,” Alex shouted, as if addressing two children arguing over a toy. Michael half expected to be put in time-out. “I stay with the car. Just do it quickly. Have a look. Come straight back. I’ll be waiting.”
“Fine.” Michael conceded. “But there’s something I have to do first.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Alex watched Michael with curiosity as he loaded up the camera on his phone and pressed the record button.
“Hello. My Name is Michael Ashton, and I am here with Josie Quinn. If anything happens to us, we want the truth to be known. Josie’s sister—Tanya, was kidnapped in the Quinta Roo region of Mexico a year ago.” His dry throat felt like it was closing up, trying to stop him from continuing, but he coughed and carried on. “She was never found. I’ve been helping her sister try to find out what happened and here is what we know so far. We know the kidnapper was named Ismael Garcia, and that he was paid by Samuel Valentino Hernandez to do so. Why, this remains unclear, but we know it has something to do with someone nicknamed El Verdugo.” It just occurred to Michael he was speaking like a TV news-anchor, but somehow it seemed more fitting. “Samuel Hernandez attempted to kill us, but we got away with the help of Miguel Cuevas, whose wife was brutally murdered by Samuel. Miguel was with us when she was killed.” Michael didn’t know what else to say and looked towards Josie. “Do you want to leave a message for your family? Just in case?” He passed her the phone to hold, and she held it in front of her, pausing for a few seconds. Her eyes became glassy, as if it just hit her that she may never see them again.
“Hi mom. Dad. I know you said you didn’t want me to do this, and I’m so sorry if I don’t come back. I never meant to make this harder on you.” Her voice cracked, and she breathed in deeply before beginning her next sentence. “I hope you understand why I did what I did, and I’m still glad I did it. I am so close now to knowing what happened. I can’t give up now. I’m just imagining me home, maybe Tanya is even there. It’s Thanksgiving, and mom, you always insist on buying the biggest turkey you can find, even though we never get through all the leftovers. And dad, you always pass out with a glass of wine in your hand before midnight. It was always one of the few times in the year that Tanya would actually be at home, mainly because no-where else would be open.” She laughed for a second, then stopped herself, and passed the phone back to Michael without saying another word, and got out of the car. He saved the recording and messaged it to Alex.
“You know what to do. If anything does happen, don’t hesitate; get the hell out of here. Wish me luck.” They shared a heavy, half smile.
“You’re not going to need it,” Alex said with confidence.
Alex’s words bounced around Michael’s head as he went to follow Josie. ‘You’re not going to need it.’ Why the hell would he say that? Oh well. Fate had been tempted now, and there was no turning back.
The air was still enough that they could hear the rustling of grass underfoot as they made their way towards where Samuel had gone. Once over the first hump they tried to stick to dips in the bumpy landscape to avoid being seen. A row of trees provided them cover as they walked alongside the drive. It must have been a good half a mile before they could make out the house in the distance—a tall three story, reflecting the light with its pristine white walls, sparkling green pool, and glass doors. Modern—a miniature version of something you might see in the Hollywood hills, only instead of sprawling across the land, it towered up into the sky—a white beacon in this distance. The base of the house nestled in carefully manicured foliage and spindly palm trunks almost as tall as the building itself. As they got closer, they could make out two figures on the terrace.
Michael considered one last word of caution, but thought it best to remain silent.
As they waited in the shade of the palms, Michael pulled pieces of lint away from his pocket. It was a strangely calming activity, but he moved onto tearing the business card in his pocket into fours. Keeping his hands busy took his mind away from what was happening. Self-soothing.
“Give me that.” She took the pieces of torn card from his hand. “You know, tearing things up is a sign of sexual frustration.”
He couldn’t believe she was making jokes right now, but mustered a half-smile.
Josie laid the pieces onto the grass, placing them together like a jigsaw puzzle. “No way.” She got onto her knees and inspected the card closer.
“What?” He whispered. They were far enough away that he probably didn’t have to keep his voice down, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Didn’t Miguel say his business partner that Samuel hired to kidnap my sister was called Ismael?”
“Yeah, Ismael Garcia. Garcia like the ice cream.” He would have killed for some cooling ice-cream at that moment.
“Oh, my god.” She picked up the scraps of card from the floor and thrust them into his hand. “It’s his auto-shop. The scum bag that kidnapped my sister was the guy that gave us his card.”
Michael arranged the pieces to see the name Ismael Garcia in smudged black ink.
“This is it, Michael. We’re so close now.”
“Josie.” Michael leaped from the ground, putting his hands up in a defensive stance as a man stood approaching from behind Josie with an AK-47 in his arms. An unintelligible noise escaped his mouth as he flinched in anticipation of pain, but the man didn’t fire. With her back to him, Josie’s hand disappeared into the pocket of her tailored shorts, and her phone almost slipped from her hand as she pulled it out. The voice in Michael’s head screamed for her to stop, but her fingers started pushing buttons. The man shouted words he didn’t understand, but he knew they weren’t good.
“Leave! Now,” Josie shouted down the phone. “Get help.”
Before Michael could react, the man struck her across the back of the head, sending her phone flying into the grass as her body dropped to the floor in an instant. “Please,” Michael uttered. He wasn’t use to begging for his life.
As he felt a presence behind him and a shadow appeared at his side, Michael’s organs leapt up inside him.
“You took your time. Trouble finding the place?” Samuel’s gravelly voice rasped near his ear, close enough so he could feel the heat of his breath. A loud noise, like a car backfiring in the distance, made Michael flinch.
“What is that?” Samuel yelled and Michael couldn’t tell if he was talking to him, or th
e man with the machine gun.
“I… don’t… know.” He stuttered. The sound still rang, bouncing off the hills from the direction of the car where Alex was waiting for them and Michael’s stomach churned. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to vomit. His body screamed, confused, not sure whether it wanted to run, throw up, cry, or curl up into a ball.
“Never mind. I’m sure Che is dealing with it.” He gave the man with the gun a knowing look and he hoisted Josie up, pulling her along whilst carrying the gun over the other shoulder. Samuel looked at Michael. “Move it. You’ve got legs, right?”
The turquoise pool reflected in the glass panels of the ground floor doors as they neared the house and stepped up onto the paving. Despite the expansive windows, the trees that surrounded the property provided plenty of privacy. Even though he could barely think straight, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the lavishness of the place and he felt like he was locked in an architect's wet-dream. It reminded him of the real-estate shows he’d watch at midday when he was unemployed. Never in his life had he stepped foot in somewhere like this. The fully white interior, glass staircase and shiny floors were dazzling. Although the floor space hadn’t looked like much in comparison to the height of the house, the inside was vast, the open plan floor, designed to make optimal use of the space. Despite the wow-factor, the place felt sterile. No nick-knacks, no photographs, nothing to make it look like a home. An enormous television and sound system took up one wall, and a highly stylized artwork hung on the opposing wall. Minimalist bright colors that ultimately didn’t make you feel anything when you looked at them.
The back part of the ground floor was raised up from the rest, and Samuel led them up to a bar area. A curved granite counter with various spirits laid out and a row of pristine glasses. A charcoal-gray chaise lounge took up the other half of the space. “Sit.”
The armed man slumped Josie up against the backrest, and Michael placed himself gingerly on the edge of one of the cushions.
