El Gavilan

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El Gavilan Page 19

by Craig McDonald


  Tell knew. But it was better to let Parks say it, in case it became an issue later. Parks said, “Pierce is going after Amos Sharp. He’s Able Hawk’s grandson. Hawk is going to go apeshit, Lyon. This is going to be fucking Armageddon.”

  Tell said, “We need to move fast, then. You going to break the news to Hawk, or should I?”

  Parks said, “I think it could cause trouble for me later if I’m not the one to give Hawk the heads-up on this.”

  “Good thinking,” Tell said. “Do it now. Thanks for the tip, Doc.”

  Tell closed his phone. Jesus Christ.

  He walked around and slipped back behind the wheel of his cruiser. He said, “Amos, I’ve got another personal question for you.” Tell’s voice sounded strange to himself. He could tell it unsettled Amos too. Tell said, “You and Luisa made a decision to have a baby to enhance her prospects of dodging deportation. You must love her very much to do that. Have you two ever used condoms?”

  “Not in at least nine months,” Amos said, red-faced.

  “Right. Anyway, you obviously couldn’t risk being alone with her at your place. They don’t make many cars big enough to have sex in anymore. Where’d you two go to be alone? It’s important kid, or I wouldn’t ask you a question like this. Where’d you go to have sex with Luisa?”

  Amos said, “Her aunt works three days a week. So did Thalia. Luisa sleeps on a cot.” He looked at his rings. “We used Thalia’s bed.”

  “Thalia know?”

  Amos looked ashamed. “Not unless Luisa told her.”

  “Did Luisa tell you that Sheriff Pierce has recently searched Thalia’s room … took away her bedding?”

  Tell saw it in Amos’s face when it clicked. “Oh, God.”

  “Warrant’s being issued now, Amos. Get out of the car, son.”

  Amos hauled himself out. “What are you going to do? Hold me for fucking Pierce to come and get?” The boy looked crazed.

  “No, Amos,” Tell said, a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to arrest you for manufacturing and selling fraudulent identification cards. I’m sorry for what this is going to do to you, kid. Sorry for what it’s going to do to your ambitions. But you, of all people, in the hands of Walt Pierce? That’s too much potential leverage over your grandfather. Get in the backseat, Amos. I’m not going to cuff you, but get in the backseat, son.”

  THEN

  It was the night before his last day in the field as a Border Patrol agent. Monday morning would find him starting his new desk position.

  Tell had cranked up the AC in the house—the new position came with a significant raise, so they could splurge a little at last. The summer heat was unbearable, the humidity insane as the clouds were swollen with threatened rain that wasn’t yet falling. All that heat and humidity was hardest on Marita, now eight months pregnant. The heat had been making the nights even longer for his wife as she struggled to find a way to position herself in their bed, wrapped around a long, puffy pregnancy pillow.

  Marita shivered and snuggled in tighter against Tell. She pulled the covers up snug around her chin. “It’ll be safer, won’t it? No more Coyotes or drug traffickers to take shots at you? No more having to look for bodies out there? God, it has to be better, right?”

  “Yes,” Tell said, one hand on her swollen belly. He believed his answer to be an honest one. “It’ll be much safer.”

  THIRTY SIX

  Tell heard Able arrive. There was a bellow at Julie Dexter. “Let me the fuck back there, now, or so help me … !”

  Tell called, “Let Able come, Julie.” He nodded at Billy Davis—increasingly looking to be, to Tell’s pleasant surprise, his most dependable right hand. Tell said, “Sit with Amos and Trent here, Billy, while I talk to Hawk.”

  Billy looked worried. “‘Talk’? You going to be okay with him, skipper?”

  “Sure. I’ll be fine.” As he left, Tell heard Billy say, “Either of you boys want a doughnut?”

  Tell intercepted Able Hawk at his desk. “Steady, Able,” Tell said. “Let’s go out back again.”

  Able bit his mustache with his bottom teeth and said, “Tell Lyon, don’t you dare treat me like some hotheaded civilian who’s apt to go pugilist on your ass, or else I’ll do just that.” The sheriff looked around. He saw wide-eyed Julie Dexter; saw Billy in the doorway, his back to the holding cells, one fat hand on the butt of his gun. Able said, “Out back’ll do.” Then he led the way to Tell’s own back door.

  They stepped into the alley and Tell pulled the door shut tight behind them. He said, “You know what was about to go down concerning your grandson.”

  “Parks called me to give me the heads-up,” Able said. “So, yeah. I’m going to assume he called you too. Hence us bein’ here like this now. Because I don’t want to be more pissed off at you than I am at this moment, I’m not going to explore the question of which of us got called first.”

  Able took off his mirrored sunglasses and looked at Tell with his unsettling eyes. “I appreciate you getting Amos out of the line of fire of that cocksucker Walt Pierce. I’m trying, for the life of me, to figure out how Walt and his crew fucked up this one. This DNA shit is some wild kind of mistake. Has to be. Thalia was a middle-aged Mexican woman. You’ve seen Amos. Idea of them together is crazy. And the idea that I wouldn’t know if they had somehow ended up together? That’s crazier still.”

  Tell said, “Amos should probably be the one to tell you this, but as we’re here and Christ knows what comes next—maybe Walt Pierce with an arrest and extradition warrant—you need to know it all. Amos was in Thalia’s bed. But he wasn’t in bed with Thalia. Thalia has a younger cousin, Luisa, who’s twenty-two. She’s an illegal. Your grandson Amos is in love with her. They’ve been together for nearly a year now. And they’ve been together in Thalia’s bed many times when Thalia and her mother were out of the house.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” Able said. “Boy’s fucked up by half this time.”

  “There’s more,” Tell said. “They were afraid you or one of yours might figure out about Luisa. Maybe try to deport her. So, in love as they think they are, and naϊve as they are—”

  “Amos fucking knocked her up to stay my hand,” Able said sourly. “Hence the DNA from the fucking resultant wet spots in Thalia’s bed, after. Jesus.”

  Tell said nothing, just watched those arresting gray eyes. There was a strange new expression there.

  “How far along is this girl?”

  “Much too far along for an abortion,” Tell said. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Able said, “Ain’t saying I was or wasn’t, Lyon. How far along?”

  “At least seven, maybe eight months.”

  “Fuck.” Able put back on his sunglasses. “Well, turn him on over to me. I’ll get this worked out with Walt Pierce somehow. Then I’m going to kick Amos’s ass so hard his next five children will stutter.”

  Tell said evenly, “I mean to charge Amos and hold him. For protection.”

  “He don’t need no fuckin’ protection now that I’m here,” Able said. He took off his glasses. He was using his eyes for effect again. “What exactly did you mean to charge Amos with, Lyon?”

  “Something big enough to justify my holding Amos in the face of Sheriff Pierce’s suspicion of murder charges.”

  “You fucking intended what?”

  “I’m holding Trent Paris too. I stumbled onto your false identification ‘sting,’ Able. I’d call it clever if it weren’t so damned illegal. You have to know the fire you’re playing with. Christ’s sake, that’s a federal felony with Homeland Security considerations. You’d die in jail.”

  “You’ll excuse me not thanking you for your fucking disingenuous compliment. And I know the law. Please fucking tell me you haven’t filed paper on Amos yet. On either of them.”

  “Minutes away from that,” Tell said. “Or I was.”

  “Good thing that you didn’t, or I’d be kicking your ass along with Amos’s.” Able lowered his voice. “Look, Tell, th
is identification sting, it’s a gray thing. They’re going to try and secure these fake papers anyway. This way, at least, I know who’s who and where to find the worst of them. Know where to find the real criminals among the illegals.”

  Tell said, “The trouble is, your cover is too thin. And your exposure far too great. You could be burned down for this—do decades in jail.” Tell narrowed his eyes. “Where are the proceeds going?”

  “What’s not used to cover costs? Benevolence fund for the families of fallen cops. How’d you crack it? How’d you trace it back to me?”

  “I wish I could say it was something ingenious I did, but this should scare you: I picked up a couple of speeding Mexican kids the other night and noticed their fake operator’s licenses were the same as the samples you gave me,” Tell said. “The kids gave up Trent. Trent rolled over on Amos, just like that.” Tell snapped his fingers. “I confronted Trent in a Chipotle. Maybe he was afraid I’d try to take his big-ass burrito. Either way, he caved fast. Gave me Amos off the bat.”

  “And Amos handed me up?”

  “No, Able. He didn’t have to. Amos was determined to fall on his sword for you.”

  “Faint comfort, Lyon. You realize, if you charged Amos for that—charged him in the well-meaning but infinitely misguided notion of protecting him—you realize what that would have resulted in for me?”

  “I know. That’s why I’d initially told Amos to simply desist. I urged him to walk away from this mess and get you to quit too. I told him I’d drop the whole thing if you two shut it down immediately. And I pointed out to Amos that if I stumbled upon your scam this easily and as quickly as I did, it’s inevitable your ACLU enemies will do the same. And they’ll run it through you like a harpoon. They’ll burn you down with it.”

  Able nodded. “When did you decide to charge Amos despite all that? When did you decide to renege on your amnesty offer?”

  “When he was sitting next to me in my cruiser and I took a call warning me Amos was about to be arrested on suspicion of Thalia Ruiz’s murder … arrested by Walt.”

  “Well, like I said, I’m here now, Tell. So go back to your original plan. Let Amos and Trent walk.”

  “You’ll stop this bogus ID scheme if I do?”

  “Sort of. I was getting antsy myself,” Able said. “So I’m turning over the franchise to two guinea hoodlums based a couple of county’s south of here. I’m giving the business over to them. In return, they’ll float me copies of all the fake papers they sell to Horton County Mexicans. We’ll call them dagos ‘informants,’ at that point. That’ll make it all four-square.”

  Tell said, “You’re sure you can cool Pierce’s jets? I want to know if you’re sure you can do that before I commit to anything, Able. Because if you’re wrong, you and Amos are going to pay a terrible price.”

  “Let me have my boys back, Tell. Please. I’ll take care of Walt. No sweat there.”

  Tell opened the door and held it for Able. He called, “Billy, let Amos and Trent out and give ’em back their stuff. We’re kicking them loose.”

  Julie Dexter came around the corner then. Behind her trailed Sofia Gómez. Sofia held the hand of Evelia. Behind them was a pretty, very pregnant young girl, about a half a head taller than Sofia.

  Mrs. Gómez nodded at Tell. “I can’t believe after our talk this afternoon you used what I told you to do this to Amos Sharp. Could I have so badly misjudged you, Chief Lyon?”

  “No,” Tell said. “You didn’t. I didn’t do what you suggest, señora. This isn’t how it must appear to you. But I’ll leave Amos to explain.”

  Then Tell said, “Sofia Gómez, I believe you know Sheriff Able Hawk.” Tell stroked the hair of the little girl. “This is Thalia’s daughter, Evelia. And this,” he gestured at the pregnant young girl, “must be Luisa. You all have a lot to talk about. Please use this area as long as you need.” Tell said, “Billy, bring Trent. We’ll show him out and then keep Julie company up front.”

  THIRTY SEVEN

  “I should fucking kill you, boy.”

  It was hours since they’d left the New Austin Police HQ. Amos now sat across the dusty kitchen table from his grandfather, trying hard to meet the old man’s angry glare. Able said, “I don’t have to tell you how close you came today to losing any shot you have at a law enforcement career. If Tell Lyon had really booked you, if he’d filed any paper whatsoever, you’d be fucked on that dream, boy. And I mean forever.”

  “I know.”

  “Then we’ll talk no more about that,” Able said. “But when were you going to tell me about Luisa? When were you going to clue me in about her?”

  “Soon,” Amos said. “Real, real soon.”

  “And only because time was running out for you two. Luisa is about to drop that baby inside her. That’s why you say that.”

  “Luisa’s also illegal,” Amos said. “She’s illegal and you’re El Gavilan.”

  “I know that,” Able said. “I knew she was illegal before I knew of any ties she had to you. I knew from Thalia. And I did nothing about Luisa in deference to Thalia. And drop that El Gavilan, shit, Amos. Under this roof, I’m your fucking grandfather. That’s true out on the streets too.”

  “So what now, Grandpa?”

  “So now I damn well don’t do anything on that front,” Able said. “But you should have trusted me, Amos. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “I should have, I know,” Amos said. “I’m sorry.”

  Able stared at his coffee cup. “You love this girl?” He looked up and searched his grandson’s darker eyes. “I mean, you’re sure—really sure—you really love this girl?”

  “Yes,” Amos said. “I really do.”

  “Then you need to marry her, Amos. Now. Do it before that baby gets here. At least bring that baby into this fucking black world with a proper name.”

  “I want to do that. I want to do that now.”

  “Then that’s just what you will do,” Able said. “Where did you two figure on living, after? You can’t spend money you don’t have on rent or a mortgage. You have to finish school first. That’s all I’m requiring of you. That you finish school so you can join me on the job and support this girl and your baby. You have to finish your studies, Amos. Get that degree.”

  “I’d thought about us maybe being here,” Amos said carefully. “At least to start. We have plenty of room, you know? If you’d let us, I thought maybe we could be here for a while. Place could use a woman’s touch, don’t you think?”

  “Sure, a woman’s touch,” Able said, trying hard to reign in the mocking smile he could feel on his own face. “Impossible to deny that. But this girl of yours is just that—a girl. She’s young. And with her condition, it’s going to be a good while before she can do much to whip this sorry-ass place back in shape. And things are different now than they were even a week ago. I mean different for Luisa’s family. Thalia was helping pay for that shitty apartment that she and her mother and her daughter and Luisa are living in. With Thalia gone, money will be tight for all of them. Vicious tight. They might not make it.”

  Amos wasn’t sure where his grandfather was headed with that thought so he said nothing.

  Finally, Able said, “See if you can find out what Sofia’s paying each month for that apartment they’re all crowded into. We’ll halve that, and Sofia can move in with her granddaughter over top the garage if she wants.”

  Amos was pole-armed. “That’s great! Really? You’re sure, Grandpa?”

  “I am for now,” Able said. “So you best move on this fast, Amos, ’fore I come to my goddamn ebbing senses.”

  THEN

  “Got a minute?”

  Nothing good ever started with that question.

  Tell took his feet off his desk and tipped his chair down. He scooted in behind his desk and said to his superior, “Surely.”

  A file folder tossed in front of him. “A project for you, Tell. His name is Angel Valenzuela. A long-standing problem. He’s running a very effective smuggl
ing operation, Tell. One with two prongs—smuggling illegals, of course. But he requires each illegal his team leads across to carry a load of drugs on their backs. Kind of taking the concept of drug mules to literal lengths, you might say.”

  His superior smiled and winked at his own joke.

  Tell just picked up the folder with a sinking sense; touched it like it was a rattlesnake.

  THIRTY EIGHT

  Sympathetic music played as Tell pulled into the lot of his apartment, his long day over. Bob Dylan was singing “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.” He again waited for the song to finish, then turned off his engine.

  Patricia was again on her porch, waiting for him to come home. She leaned over the deck rail and said, “Based on radio and local TV news, I’ve given my folks the brush-off for tonight, Tell. That said, I’m hoping your Hell Day is over and you’re home to stay now.”

  He smiled. “It is. And I am. Just let me shower and change.”

  But Patricia was waiting by his door when Tell stepped into their common corridor. She kissed him and said, “You didn’t say anything about wanting to shower alone, Tell.”

  * * *

  Patricia had gotten out of their shared shower first. She was dressed and her back was to Tell as he stepped into the living room, pulling on a blue Polo shirt. It was the first time that Patricia had been in his apartment and she was looking at the photos of Marita and Claudia.

  She heard Tell behind her and said, “They’re beautiful, Tell. Your wife was very beautiful. And your daughter—she was remarkable.”

  “Thank you,” Tell said softly, taking her hand. He squeezed her hand and turned her face from the pictures toward his own. “If not dinner with your folks, then … ?”

  “I’ve made our dinner,” Patricia said. “Let’s go back to my place.”

  “Let’s do that,” Tell said.

  * * *

  Tell drained his drink and then nodded as Patricia offered a refill. “Your margarita skills begin to scare me,” he said. “Your cooking skills too. I mean that in the best way.”

 

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