by DiAnn Mills
“I’m confused. Maybe you could explain.”
“Naddie ran away.”
Fear seized Danika. Not since Toby’s death had she sensed her world falling apart like this. “When? What do the police say?”
“Sometime Sunday night. The police haven’t turned up a thing. It’s as though she’s disappeared.”
“Oh, honey, you should have called. I’d have been right there.”
“I wanted to tell you, wanted to every day, but Jacob . . .”
“I understand. No wonder he cracked at work.”
Barbara gasped. “What do you mean? What happened at the station?” Hysteria crept into her voice. “He’s been home since Tuesday afternoon. Said he was sick, and he’s been vomiting. Hasn’t been to the doctor that I know of, but we aren’t really communicating.”
“I’m not the one to tell you about the incident. Maybe you should call the station.”
Sobs broke through the phone, and Danika blinked back her tears. This precious family had more burdens than they could bear. Her thoughts focused on the other children. Were they grieving and confused like Nadine? Children ultimately suffered the most in family turmoil. They needed sane outlets, just like adults.
“Have you or Jacob contacted a priest?”
“Jacob said he was too embarrassed, but I’ve talked to our priest twice this week.”
Embarrassed? Full of pride more accurately described him. “So he’s still blaming you?”
“I know it’s not my fault she ran away, just like I know he’s hurting. Both my Jacob and my little Naddie are in so much pain.”
“Is there any place I can look for her?”
“Oh, Danika, you are so sweet.” Barbara’s voice broke with a sob. “I’ve talked to her friends and their parents, and no one has heard from her.”
“What about the other children?”
“Scared. Upset tummies. Kaitlyn sleeps to avoid what is going on, while Jake isn’t sleeping. Amber refuses to eat.”
“I’m here for all of you,” Danika said. “Oh, that sounds so lame. I want to do something.”
“I know I can always depend on you, and I’ll do better to keep you posted. Right now I need your prayers. One more thing. Jacob said not to tell you about Naddie’s disappearance because your prayers didn’t count—because you’re not Catholic. I don’t believe that, never have. And I should have spoken up for you at the time. He never got over Toby’s . . . leaving the Catholic church.” Barbara continued to ramble. The dear woman craved peace.
“Barbara,” Danika interrupted. “It’s all right. We can discuss our faith when your family settles down a bit. Let it be enough to say God hears the prayers of the believer, and He doesn’t ask which church we attend.” How long had it been since she’d practiced words of encouragement to a Christian sister?
“Thank you. I’ll call tomorrow. Maybe Nadine will be home or call me by then.” Barbara hung up, leaving Danika lost in a whirlwind of near panic and love for her family.
Her session with Shannon had proved how desperately she needed to work through the demons in her own life. The situation looked like God had deserted all of them. But then again who else was there to turn to?
* * *
Sandra pushed her cart through the grocery store. She loved her job and her adoptive family. Cooking for Danika and Tiana and keeping their home clean—her home—filled her with satisfaction. She no longer looked for a husband, and she’d wait for her own family until Danika no longer needed her. The troubles circling her life two years ago had faded into manageable chunks. Even Lucy was handled since she believed Danika’s lawyer held the evidence implicating her traffic in illegal workers.
Danika had purchased a beautiful home right after Sandra had taken the job as Tiana’s nanny. It was a split floor plan that allowed Sandra and Danika to have their own privacy within the same house. What more could she ask for?
Tiana pushed a small cart beside her. Inside were a bunch of bananas and a box of graham crackers. The little girl tugged on Sandra’s shirt. “Cookie,” she signed, and Sandra nodded her consent.
At the end of the next aisle, the bakery offered free cookies to children. And Tiana loved the sugared treats.
The delicious aroma of hot bread teased Sandra’s nostrils, reminding her the hour moved quickly to noon. As a child, she’d often gone to bed hungry, and she made certain Tiana ate a balanced diet that ensured a healthy little girl. Sandra had pored over many books on nutrition especially for her Tiana. She did think of the little girl as her own. After all, she spent more waking hours with her than Danika. Sandra remembered how hard she’d labored to learn to read and write before accepting this job. Everything had paid off. Even Lucy’s abuse.
She picked up a loaf of marble rye bread and tortillas and helped Tiana pick out a sugar cookie. Stopping at the fresh produce, she selected four red bell peppers. She’d roast them and make a cream soup for dinner with a huge spinach salad. Danika encouraged her to watch the Food Network and prepare other dishes besides traditional Mexican foods. Right from the start, Danika had made it clear that trust was the most important factor in their relationship, and she didn’t question the food bill. So Sandra budgeted her spending and tried new recipes, and Danika was pleased.
Then Sandra remembered the morning’s call from Lucy, as if spiders were crawling inside her stomach and threatening to destroy her. The woman’s demands had increased, and although Sandra refused to comply with any of them, the threats continued. Lucy had hardened over the years, grown greedier and bolder. She despised Danika, and Sandra thought she knew why, but she didn’t want to speculate. The nagging suspicions about Lucy’s depraved mind cropped up at unexpected times, suspicions Sandra dreaded to face. Even if true, even if Lucy were involved in other things besides an illegal maid and nanny service, Sandra didn’t want to know. Lucy had means of securing falsified U.S. documents, which kept ICE off the woman’s back.
“Do you know where Cira is?” Lucy had asked.
“Cira Ramos? She’s been gone from McAllen for two years.” Sandra hoped the young woman and her baby never returned to the area.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I have no idea.” Cira had fled to Houston, where she planned to raise her child without fear of Lucy forcing her to work for free.
“If you value your life, you’ll do what I tell you,” Lucy said. “I need to find Cira. And I need Border Patrol information.”
“Forget it. As many threats as you toss my way, I have more. I’d get shipped back to Mexico, but you’d be sentenced to jail for a long time.” Her words sounded brave, and they packed enough punch to stop Lucy from sending someone to change her mind, but Sandra understood how evil Lucy could be.
Sandra no longer needed to talk with the women who worked for Lucy to know the rumors—how many illegals worked seven days a week for nothing to pay back their indebtedness for bringing them to the United States. Sandra never understood why Lucy didn’t want to let Cira go. The pretty young woman had been cornered repeatedly by Lucy’s men until she turned up pregnant. That’s when she ran.
During the time of her indebtedness, Sandra lived under Lucy’s rules. The woman supplied toast and coffee for breakfast and beans and tortillas for dinner. The illegal workers alternated between a bed and a floor, often four to a room. The years became a monotonous blur in her memory. She’d been freer in Mexico, until Danika came to Lucy with a need for a live-in nanny. The position gradually developed into a cook and maid, not because Danika asked any more of her but because Sandra had quickly grown fond of the mother and daughter and wanted to do everything possible to help the widow and her deaf child. Everything but tell her the truth about her status within the U.S.
No matter what Lucy claimed she could do, Sandra would never change her mind and betray Danika unless . . . She didn’t want to think about the letter she’d received yesterday about her aging parents needing urgent medical care. Sandra already sent them all she could s
pare from the last paycheck, but her mother insisted it wasn’t enough. Next week, she’d send more. Her parents would receive what they needed, and Sandra’s comfortable life would continue.
Chapter 14
The Lord has comforted his people and will have compassion on them in their suffering.
Isaiah 49:13
Danika always spent the last two hours of her ten-hour shifts informing the agent taking over her watch of any leads, then driving back to the station to complete paperwork. Friday afternoon was no exception. As she labored over the report citing the half-dozen illegals discovered this morning, her thoughts repeated her conversation with Barbara earlier in the day. Her dear sister-in-law shared the agony of a runaway daughter and a husband who had intense emotional problems. Counseling would help them all and possibly save their marriage.
But Nadine’s whereabouts scared Danika the most. A pretty teen who had chosen drugs to help her cope with life and disappeared so cleverly that the police hadn’t been able to find her was nothing short of a tragedy.
Conscious of someone standing over her, she turned her attention to Chief Patrol Agent Edwardo Jimenez.
“I’d like to see you in my office before you leave, Morales,” he said.
“Yes, sir.” For sure this was about Jacob, and she dreaded it.
After she finished her daily report, Danika made her way to Jimenez’s office. She could count on one hand how many times she’d been in his office, and none of them were ever good. He had an impressive reputation, starting with his record in the Marines as a crack shot.
She steadied herself. The last time she sat in this office was when he told her about agents finding Toby’s body out in a field close to checkpoint 281. She stood in Chief Jimenez’s doorway.
“Come on in and shut the door.” He had one hand on an open file. “I have a few questions.”
She eased into a chair. How she hated for Jacob to be involved in any more trouble. “What is this about?”
“Your husband.”
Startled, Danika held her breath. If Toby’s killer had been found, wouldn’t that have come from the police? “What about him?”
“Two years ago you stated you were unaware of his activist involvement until the morning of his death.”
“Yes, sir.” The question made no sense. She’d been through this with him before.
“Exactly what happened the morning of your husband’s death?”
A trickle of apprehension dripped into her veins. “I don’t understand. It’s all in my file.”
“I’d like for you to tell me again.”
Did he have any idea how it hurt to recall that day? And for what purpose? A hammering against her temples blurred her vision. “Why?”
He sat back in his chair and studied her face. She despised the emotionless look he gave her, as though she’d done something wrong. “We have strong reason to believe a rogue agent is at this station.”
“Surely you don’t suspect me?” Anger added to the pounding in her head.
“I don’t, but I need this information again.”
“Who else are you talking to?”
“I have a list. Every agent in this sector is under investigation. Someone is releasing sensor locations.”
Danika considered refusing. After all, she had her rights, and the past was documented in her records. But if she cooperated, then he’d have no reason to suspect her. The drug cartels would pay well to have that information.
Okay, she’d dredge up every painful memory. “On the morning of his . . . death, I was running late in getting our toddler to day care. Halfway there, I realized I’d forgotten the diaper bag. I went back to the house, opened the garage door, and saw Toby arranging cases of water in the trunk of his car. When I got out to retrieve the diaper bag, I saw he also had small first aid kits and nonperishable food stacked near the car. I asked him what was going on. Honestly, I thought he might be involved in a summer school project at the high school. He taught there, you know. But he finally told me he planned to deliver the stuff to a safe house for illegals.”
She paused as the betrayal against all she believed in washed over her again. She could remember the scene as if it had happened yesterday . . . the white T-shirt he wore with their church’s softball team logo on it . . . the way his baseball cap sat on the left side of his head . . . the stifling heat in the garage . . .
“Give yourself a moment,” Jimenez said. “I’ll wait.”
She nodded and let the flood of memories rush past her heart.
“I don’t believe this. You can’t help the illegals,” she said. “What are you thinking? I put my life on the line every day to enforce our borders, and you’re bringing water and supplies to the illegals? How many of those people are guides and drug smugglers?”
He sighed and pushed his cap back on his head. “Honey, I didn’t want you to find out this way. I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you about what I’m doing. I don’t see it quite the same way you do.”
“What you’re doing? As in, you’ve done this before?” Her chest felt as though someone had clamped a weight on her.
“I’ve helped many people over the past year. It’s not a decision I made lightly. It took lots of prayer.” Toby reached out to hold her, but she stepped back. “God tells us to have compassion on the poor. All they want is a chance to provide for their families.”
“There are legal channels to allow them to enter the U.S.”
“Danika, you know as well as I do that many of the immigrants we’re dealing with here will never qualify for a visa. And even if they do, it takes years. The Mexican government is killing its own people.”
“God also tells us to obey the law. And it’s my job to enforce it.”
The diaper bag. She’d come for the diaper bag. Brushing past this man she was no longer sure she knew, let alone shared a life with, she opened the door to the kitchen and snatched the familiar pink and green bag with Tiana embroidered on it. The news was worse than if she’d learned Toby had been unfaithful. In a sense, he had been. He’d betrayed her and the Border Patrol.
Danika slammed the door behind her. “When God gave you the green light to break the law, did He also say it was okay to deceive your wife?”
“Danika, let’s talk about this.”
His patronizing attitude was further fuel on the fire. She opened the car door and glanced back at Tiana, for once grateful her precious baby was deaf and couldn’t hear the angry words passing between her parents. “There’s nothing to talk about! You’ve gone against everything I believe in!”
“Don’t you think I’ve thought about that? Let me explain.”
“No! It’s too late for that. I’ve watched agents get shot down while chasing drug dealers. I can’t believe my own husband has been helping them. Chew on this, Toby: You make a choice. It’s either Tiana and me . . . or your little crusade.”
She backed the car out of the driveway, leaving him standing in front of his open trunk.
“That was the last time I saw Toby alive.” She swallowed her tears. She was a professional, not a weepy widow. “That’s it.”
“And you had no idea of his views on immigration until then.”
“No, sir. I assumed they were the same as mine.”
“And you still expect me to believe that your husband could have been so involved in immigration activism without your knowing anything about it?”
Danika stiffened. “It’s the truth. Look at my record, sir. It’s impeccable. I’ve applied for a supervisor position because I want to help other agents work the border. Give me one incident indicating I’m not dedicated to the policies of the Border Patrol.”
Jimenez slowly nodded. “All right, Agent Morales. You made your point. Thanks for repeating your story and not blowing up.”
“One Morales with a temper problem is enough.” She said it before thinking.
“Are you insinuating Jacob and Toby worked together?”
Her eyes wi
dened. “Absolutely not. Jacob felt just as betrayed as I did after we found out what Toby was doing behind our backs.”
“Something is not right about your husband’s death—”
“Murder. Tell it like it is. It’s never been solved, and no one knows why his body was dumped a mile from the road.”
He folded his hands over her file. “I’ll let you know if I have any more questions.”
Maybe she’d answer them, and maybe she wouldn’t.
* * *
Alex walked out of Rita’s room. He’d discharge her in the morning, which meant she’d soon be on her way back to Mexico. After much persuasion, the young woman agreed to talk to the Border Patrol about who had raped and beaten her. With the name Rita had given him, hopefully charges could be filed. Unless the assailant had already been processed and sent back home.
Glancing at the 6:10 reading on his watch, Alex took a chance that Ed would still be at the McAllen station. He stepped into his office and closed the door.
Ed answered on the second ring. “Recognized your number.” His voice spoke of weariness.
“Long day?”
“Not until about forty-five minutes ago.” Ed blew out a sigh, and Alex heard his chair squeak.
“I won’t take up much of your time. The young woman brought into the hospital last week?”
“Abuse?”
“Yes. I’m discharging her in the morning. She had internal injuries and resulting surgery, but she’s well enough to be transported back across the border.”
“I remember Agent Morales brought her in. But another agent took over once I realized her name was at the top of the list as a suspected rogue.”
“Danika?” Shock rippled through Alex. “Surely you don’t suspect her.”
“Not really, but it’s possible.”
