Santiago followed and they gamed, saying little, but in quiet harmony. Sara had no idea what time it might be and for the moment, she didn’t care.
She lost a little, won some of it back, and noticed Santiago wasn’t at her side. Instant, hot fear seized her midsection as she scanned the adjacent rows of slots. He’ll be close, I’m sure. When she failed to locate him, she cashed out her ticket and wandered.
Sara walked past all the restrooms and throughout the casino, always searching for Santiago. After three circuits, she yielded to anxiety. Her breath came short and she gasped for air. Afraid she might suffer a panic attack, something she’d done a few times during her married years, Sara headed for the closest exit. She stepped out into the night and although the air was humid, she inhaled several deep breaths. In an effort to calm down, she took long breaths and paced them.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she glimpsed a tall man, back turned toward her. He stood at the right height and something about his stance seemed familiar. Sara took a few steps toward him and caught the pungent aroma of a cigarillo. What in the hell is he doing out here and why? Her mood soured as she moved closer to confront him, but she halted when she realized he held his new phone to one ear. She wasn’t close enough to pick out the words or understand, but he spoke in rapid fire Spanish. His tone carried an intense urgency and although tempted to join him, Sara didn’t. Instead, she retreated a little until she stood near the casino’s main entrance. When she spotted a bench to one side, she sank down onto it, knees more than a little weak. She’d been had. Santiago slipped away to handle his business without telling her, maybe to keep her from worrying, maybe to avoid any questions.
His tense body language kept her riveted in place. Should he need her, she’d be close whether he wanted her to be or not. Five minutes, ten, fifteen passed as he moved farther away, his voice soft but still audible. He walked up and down a row of parked vehicles as he spoke.
Sara strained to see his expression but couldn’t. She had almost decided to join him, no matter what the consequences, when he thrust the phone into his pocket and ground out the butt of his smoke on the pavement. She stood up and he caught sight of her immediately. His expression darkened as he rushed to her side and grasped her arm.
“Que pasa? Why are you out here?”
She stared into his face, hoping to read his emotions, but he wore a blank mask. “I couldn’t find you. I worked myself up until I thought I couldn’t breathe, so I came outside for some air. I saw you so I waited.”
Santiago’s nostrils flared with displeasure and his lips compressed. She braced for harsh words, but then he sighed. “You shouldn’t have, Sara. It’s safer inside. Out here, who knows?”
“You should’ve told me you were calling.”
“The less you know is better for you.” He still held her arm in a python-like grip. “Let’s go back inside.”
Inside the casino, the crowds had thinned a little. Sara headed for the hotel lobby, but he shook his head in a quick motion. “Not yet,” he said. “Wait awhile, por favor.”
“Why?”
“Just do what I ask, querida. I’ll explain later.”
His dark eyes met hers, open and brimming with emotion.
Sara lost any need to hammer an answer from him. “Okay, so now what?”
“I think I’ll play 21.”
Surprised, she asked, “You’re gonna gamble?”
A flash of humor lightened his expression for a brief moment. “I already am,” he said. “I thought if my luck’s holding out, maybe I’ll win some money.”
At the tables, he did, more than four hundred dollars in short order. After cashing in, he seemed content to head upstairs, and as they walked down the corridor to their room, Sara’s curiosity surged. “So, tell me what the deal is,” she said as soon as they were inside. “What happened with the call?”
He sat down and sighed, the exuberance from his win fading. “With a little persuasion, he listened. Ay, dio mio! He was pretty pissed off, though. I thought I’d made a major mistake for the first few minutes, but I reminded him of some things.”
“Like?”
Santiago grimaced. “The times I saved his ass, the dirty work I did on his orders, that kind of thing. He calmed down a little after that, but it’s not perfect. The good thing, he’s willing to help – for a price. On the down side, he knows I’m Santiago Ruiz and a cop. He probably has a good idea I’m the one who snitched on some of the gang activities. But he hasn’t put the word out to all of the organization yet. He wanted to handle it himself, the cabron.”
Sara failed to understand. “What does that mean?”
His expression darkened. “He wanted his people to find me and bring me to him so he could kill me himself. He seldom gets his hands dirty, so you can see how fuckin’ pissed off he was.”
Her imagination conjured gory images, ones she’d rather not envision. “What about me? And what happens now?”
“You don’t want to know what he would’ve done with you, chica,” Santiago said, eyes narrowed into deadly slits. “It wouldn’t have been anything good. Then he’d have killed you anyway. But, don’t worry. It won’t happen now - we made a deal.”
Her stomach tightened at the idea and she didn’t like it. “Tell me what you have to do.”
His lips curved into an odd smile but to her, it appeared like more of a snarl. “Die,” he told her in a low tone without any emotion. “All I have to do is die, in front of witnesses.”
“No!” Sara’s response burst out of her mouth, straight from the heart. “No, Santiago!”
He stretched out his hand to her and smiled, a little. “Don’t worry, querida. Javier Morales is the one who’ll die, not me. I promised to keep quiet about most of what I know about Mara Salvatrucha, and Enrique will put out the word the FBI agent was mistaken, that Javier was Javier, nothing more. He’ll deal with the agent in his way and the people I’ll finger are gang members Enrique wants gone. I do his dirty business one more time and I can live, as myself.”
Sara struggled to wrap her head around the facts and saw he’d have to compromise his principles. If he didn’t, he would die, and she would too. “Oh, Santiago, I’m sorry it’s so complicated.”
“De nada. I’ve done much worse and I’ll do this. I may not have a job when it’s done, not if I don’t come up with enough information, but I’ll be alive and if I’m lucky, with you.”
Since their unexpected reunion, he’d said little about the future and his reference was the first she had noted. “We’ll be together, Santiago, no matter what happens,” Sara said. Tears burned in her throat, but she held them back, uncertain if he’d understand why she cried.
His old grin, the one with the power to send joy through her veins and almost burst her heart, emerged. “Si, la muñequita, it’s what I want, and if it all goes well, we will.”
With his hand wrapped around hers, she nodded. “So what happens now?”
“What is today, is it Wednesday, Thursday, what?”
Sara counted the days. “In the morning, it’s Friday.”
“We’re going to Tulsa and Saturday evening, somewhere west of downtown on the river, Javier will die. After a day or two, when it’s all clear, then we go home.”
She thought of her apartment but somehow, she doubted that’s what he meant. “To Los Angeles?”
“Si. I want to see my family, Sara, and I’ll have to report to the task force. Then I’ll see what the future may hold for me, and we can decide what we’ll do. Will you come with me?”
“Yes, of course. But, how does Javier die?”
He laughed without mirth. “Enrique will shoot him in front of some top gang members. They’ll leave him, dead on the scene, and some trusted people will come pick me up. Anyone watching will think they threw me in the river but they’ll get me out and to a safe place.”
Fear prickled down her spine and spread. “He’s going to shoot you? I don’t like that idea at all. Please
tell me he’s not really going to do it.”
His expression sobered. “He is, Sarita, but I’ll be wearing a bullet proof vest. It won’t do any more than leave a bruise. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll be using some kind of fake blood packet so it will look genuine.”
“I can’t go. I can’t stand to watch you get shot, even if it’s not for real.”
“Bueno. You won’t be there. I wouldn’t permit it.”
Relief conflicted against outrage. Sara didn’t want to be there, but she did. “Then where in the hell am I going to be, Santiago?”
In a tone dry as an August evening, he said, “Safe.”
“Safe where?”
Santiago twined his fingers around hers, tight enough to hurt. “We’ll get a hotel when we go down tomorrow. You’ll stay there until it’s all over. I’ll come back when it’s done. Then we’ll be able to breathe, la muñequita, and rest.”
Sara considered it. She saw no other option, nothing else that might work. Every other way led to almost certain death or permanent separation. But if it failed, they lost everything.
“All right,” she told him with a sigh. “Tomorrow we go to Tulsa. Why not go now?”
“It’s late and I’m still a little tired.” He yawned as if to prove his statement. “Let’s go to bed.”
“I don’t know if I can.” Sara brushed her free hand across his crotch. “Maybe I need to relax first.”
His grin flickered into life. “Did you have something in mind?” he asked, with a wicked quirk of one eyebrow. “Like maybe a nice bath or some milk from room service?”
“Te quiero, mi corazon.” Sara used the words that meant both ‘I love you’ and “I want you’ with design. Just in case he didn’t get it, she added, “Estoy exitada.”
“Si? Venir aqui, la muñequita.”
He asked; she came into his arms without restraint. Santiago pulled her onto his lap, held her as he kissed her with slow sweetness. He wasn’t hurried and she savored each subtle movement of his mouth on hers. He delivered a steady heat, not the wildness of a burning wildfire but the delightful comfort of a hearth in winter. Her body reacted to his overtures by coming alive as each cell and every nerve ending yearned for more. Sara’s spirit, though, responded with an overwhelming rush of love, deep and grounded.
He took his time in delivering pleasure and by the time they’d shed their clothing to lie together naked on the bed, Sara ached for him to fill her emptiness. He didn’t, though, not until he’d stroked every inch of her body with gentle caresses, tasted and tickled, licked and laved. Her desire hit a fever pitch as he tantalized her. When she came, in tandem with Santiago, Sara’s senses engulfed her and wiped everything else away. Her body contorted with the sheer, extreme pleasure. She cried out, then bit his chest to shed some of the intense energy. Until she lay beside him, sated and content, she didn’t realize he’d been deliberate on purpose to give her a gift.
Himself.
Chapter Eleven
On the horizon the Tulsa skyline loomed above the flat Oklahoma prairie reminiscent of the Emerald City in Frank L. Baum’s Oz. Sara had never visited the city before, but Santiago had as Javier. L.A. raised, it seemed small by their standards, but compared to Bentonville, it was a booming metropolis. Santiago headed off the multi-lane highways and headed downtown on what, judging by the route signs, had once been part of the fabled Route 66.
The expected fast food franchises, bars and restaurants, stores and shops lined both sides of the road. A few seedy ancient motels prompted Sara to ask, “Where are we staying?”
“Owasso.”
“But this is Tulsa.”
“Owasso’s just north a little bit, near the zoo and airport. It’s out of the way and probably the last place anyone would look if they did.”
Sara craned her neck to look at the sun. “We’re heading basically west, Santiago.”
“Si, I want to check out the Arkansas River and the place where it all goes down tomorrow night. Once I do, I’ll take you to one of the best Mexican restaurants outside California and the Southwest, then we’ll get a hotel. And, there’s a little piece of business to take care of, first.”
She nodded, weary. He’d slept after they made love, but she hadn’t. Instead, Sara pulled a chair to the window and watched as the sky shifted from black to gray to daylight. A headache throbbed at the edges of her consciousness. Whatever he wanted or needed to do, she’d be okay with it.
When he pulled into a used car lot, she figured out what he meant to do. Sara remained in the truck until he waved her toward the small office. She sat on a hard plastic chair in the dingy space and watched through the window as the salesman showed Santiago several vehicles. To pass the time, Sara tried to guess which ones would catch his eye. She considered the likely options, a late 1990’s Mercury Grand Marquis, a 2007 Lincoln, an older Buick Skylark, a Chevy Silverado pickup, and a Nissan sedan. He’ll pick the Mercury or the Lincoln.
As Sara sipped a soft drink, hoping the caffeine would boost her energy and maybe ease her headache, Santiago took the Lincoln for a test drive. This time, she didn’t panic, aware what he was doing and when he returned, he bought it, trading the truck and paying cash. They moved their gear into the roomy trunk and set off.
Sara gawked like a tourist as they skirted around downtown. For a small city, Tulsa vibrated with energy and she liked that. Santiago pointed out a few landmarks as they made their way to Riverside Drive. It ran beside the Arkansas River. Along the route, she realized it was one huge park. In some places, she spotted playground equipment and a picnic pavilion. There were fishing access points and jogging or biking trails. The green space had an appeal and she wished they could enjoy it. Instead, it would become a crime scene, a site for violence.
“So how you do like the car?” Santiago asked, cutting into her thoughts.
“It’s very nice. It rides a lot smoother than the old truck.”
“Si, can you drive it?”
“Of course I can. Why? Is your shoulder giving you trouble again?”
“A little but no, that’s not why I asked. I wanted to make sure because you’ll have to drop me off at Mohawk Park, then drive back to the hotel. Enrique’s people will pick me up there. I don’t want them anywhere near you or where we’ll stay.”
A quick flash of intuition flared into life and her headache intensified. “You don’t totally trust him, do you?” She should’ve known he wouldn’t. Santiago possessed too many street smarts for that.
“I trust him as much as I dare. It should go down fine and be over. I just want you to have wheels and a way out if anything fucks up.”
She parted her lips to protest and he shook his head. “Don’t. Que sera, sera, Sarita. I don’t want you to worry. I’ve seen what I need to see. Let’s go get a room somewhere and enjoy the rest of the day.”
The way he said it, serious and quiet, she heard what he meant – enjoy it, in case today is all we have left. Hot words bubbled into her mouth, but she bit down and swallowed them. He’d made up his mind, she thought, and he planned to see this through, no matter what happened. Sara hadn’t set foot in church for a long time, but she craved the quiet peace of the sanctuary. She shut her eyes and imagined the lingering aroma of incense, the flickering shadows cast by candles before the statues of saints. If she could spend a short time in a church, light a candle, and offer a prayer, she’d be less frightened. “Santiago?”
“What is it?”
“Do you know where there’s a church?”
With him, she didn’t need to explain what kind. For Santiago, like her, church meant Catholic. “Si, I do. Why?”
“I need to light a candle.”
“For me.” It wasn’t a question but she nodded.
“Yes.”
He sighed. “Holy Family Cathedral’s not far. I’ll take you there.”
The lovely church with three tall spires stretching toward the sky pleased Sara. She knew the interior must be just as beautiful and i
t didn’t disappoint. As they entered, both dipped their fingers into the holy water font, then made the sign of the Cross. Sara genuflected, then walked down the aisle to gaze at the traditional, ornate altar, rare in the 21st century, with wonder. She dug into her purse for money, then lit a candle, kneeling before a statue of the Virgin in prayer. Please, please, intercede for me and keep Santiago safe. That’s all I ask, all I want, all I need. Sara said several Hail Mary prayers before she rose.
Near the rear of the impressive space, Santiago was on his knees in a pew, head bowed in prayer. Sara joined him but remained silent until he finished. They walked hand in hand to the car without speaking. Her headache had all but vanished.
As promised, Santiago took her to lunch in a small but crowded Mexican café downtown. The delectable food was as good as he’d said, and she ate with the first real appetite she’d had in days. Neither hurried and by the time they finished the meal, it was mid-afternoon.
At a chain hotel in Owasso, they checked into a standard room. Although attractive and comfortable enough, the walls appeared too close and Sara wondered how she’d survive the endless hours ahead. Somehow, they must fill the remainder of today then endure another night and most of Saturday before the event. Then, she would drop Santiago off and return here, to wait in anxious silence. I’ll never make it. I’ll be a mess. For his sake, she put on a forced smile and said, “So what now?”
Santiago attempted a grin, but it didn’t quite form. “There’s an indoor swimming pool downstairs and a hot tub. I thought we could go down in a little while.”
“I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“There’s a discount store not far. We can buy one if you want.” He paused and shrugged. “Otherwise, we can watch movies on television, make love, or stare at the walls. Waiting isn’t easy for me, either, querida.”
The raw honesty in his tone slammed into her consciousness. In her angst, she hadn’t bothered to consider how he must feel. Now she did. “I know. Do you really want to go swimming?”
Stranger Danger Page 9
