by Roger Hayden
The pudgy middle-aged doctor then tried to steer the conversation back to what he felt pertinent. “As I was saying, Sheriff. We have Mr. Silva’s condition listed as stable. However, I’d still like to keep him here overnight. X-rays show some bruised ribs, a fractured collarbone, and possible concussion.”
With everyone’s attention on the doctor, Miriam rushed to the open side of Silva’s bed without warning. His eyes widened in surprise and fear. She gripped the guardrail next to the bed where his handcuff was latched, swooped down and got within inches of his sweaty face. “Tell me where she is!”
Keely rushed over and pulled her away for the sake of the case and her career. The lawyer watched in shock as both the Sheriff and Vargas stood wide-eyed in disbelief.
“He knows!” she shouted as Keely held her back.
“Keep her away from my client,” the lawyer said. “Unless this department wants a lawsuit so big it’ll make your head spin.”
“Miriam, enough!” Vargas said, stepping forward.
Once she calmed down, Keely let her go. The lawyer stood to the side, shaking his head. The doctor held his clipboard tight against his chest, like a shield, looking around the room awkwardly.
Silva’s gaze shot around the room like a man lost in a vortex. He looked desperate and afraid as if this were just a taste of everything that was to come. “For the last time,” he began slowly, “I didn’t kidnap any girl.” He paused, glaring at Miriam. “If there’s a girl missing out there, you got the wrong guy.”
Miriam remained undeterred. “Her name is Sarah. She’s the congressman’s daughter, and you’re telling me that you know nothing about it?”
Vargas and the sheriff stood back, watching their feisty new detective in action. The lawyer looked around as though everyone had gone insane. “You don’t have to answer any of her questions. Understand?” he told Silva.
Silva’s bloodshot eyes welled with tears. Whatever he knew, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“It’s on my computer, okay? All of it.” He sat up, slightly, burying his face in his hands. “I thought you were the FBI. That you knew everything. The things I said on the chat rooms. The pictures I downloaded. I know how the NSA works, and I know that you have it all!”
Miriam backed up, silent, and examined Silva with caution. She wasn’t sure what to say.
“I didn’t hurt nobody. It was just role playing. Fantasy stuff. I-I got spooked… so I ran.” He wound one plump hand back and slapped himself in the head repeatedly. The doctor stepped forward, face stricken with concern.
“Mr. Silva, stop that!”
“I knew that when my van got stolen and returned… I knew that you were following me then. I tried to delete the files, but then I remembered that the NSA stores everything.” Sobbing, he threw himself against the backboard and the bed shook and trembled.
The lawyer got as close as he could to Silva without muzzling himself. “Mr. Silva, I implore you not to say anything else. You must stop—”
Silva raised his head as tears streamed down his cheeks. “What does it matter? They have me now. All because of one stupid fucking weakness. I just couldn’t help myself!” He turned and looked back and forth between the sheriff and Vargas desperation. “Lock me up so I’ll stop. Just do it already!”
The revelation silenced everyone in the room except the sobbing Silva. Keely continued taking notes.
“What are we talking about, Mr. Silva?” Miriam asked, closing in.
“Don’t say anything!” the lawyer snapped.
“What do you think?” Silva said, disregarding counsel. “I did what every dirt bag does on-line. I chatted with people I shouldn’t have been chatting with. Talking about things I shouldn’t have been talking about. Lookin’ at pictures I shouldn’t be looking at.” He buried his face in his hands again, defeated. “I’m sure you’ll find what you need on my computer.”
Miriam leaned closer, her voice full of intensity. “What was this about your van being stolen?”
Silva wouldn’t look up. Instead he just waved her away. “That’s all I’m saying. No more.” He looked up at the doctor. “I want them to leave. That’s all for today.”
Miriam and Keely stood at the end of the hall, out of earshot of the other authorities. Sheriff Bork and Vargas had been called away for a private meeting with Congressman Bynes, who had put the department on notice with his press conference. Miriam knew that she was in trouble. The look on Vargas’s face had told her that much.
“We’re going to have a little talk later,” Vargas had said to her before storming away. Miriam tried not to be bothered. Her focus wasn’t on police decorum, snide lawyers, or politics. But with Silva’s bizarre confession, she didn’t know what to think.
“What if that was a ruse?” Keely asked her, leaning against the wall, sipping coffee from a small foam cup. He rocked back on his heels, trying to come up with something that made sense.
“His confession?” Miriam asked.
“Yeah. Something to throw us off Sarah’s trail? What do you think?”
“He mentioned his van being stolen.”
Keely nodded. “I nearly fell over.”
“That’s something we need to look into,” she said. “Right now.”
Suddenly the elevator near them opened and the congressman came out, flanked by two security men. He looked angry. Vargas and Sheriff Bork trailed behind him as they blasted past Miriam.
“Congressman, we have to wait,” Bork protested. “Nothing coherent is coming out of him at the moment.”
Bynes ignored their pleas and went to the hospital room door, pounding on it, just as Miriam had. The two police officers denied him entry. The congressman argued with them, but they wouldn’t budge. Perhaps Miriam was the only exception for that day. Or, they had learned a lesson from it.
There were too many conversations going on at once. Too much being said, planned, or theorized. The entire scene was chaotic. Keely leaned closer and quietly summarized what he was thinking.
“Look, we know that Silva was into some unsavory things, but kidnapping? He lacks the fortitude and competency to keep something like that under wraps.”
“I don’t know what to think right now. But we better come up with something fast,” Miriam said.
The congressman began shouting threats against the entire police department. He accused them of screwing the case up. Of failing to find his daughter. He promised to have their jobs. Despite his outbursts, nothing was getting him into that room.
He turned and darted for the elevator with an enraged, offended look plastered across his face. Miriam was certain that criticism of Maricopa County was on the agenda for his next appearance in front of the cameras. Bork and Vargas looked too preoccupied to look at her or Keely as they breezed by. And the more Miriam thought about it, the less likely it seemed that Edwin Silva was their man.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Expecting Ana, she pulled it up and looked at the touch screen, not recognizing the number. She hoped to God that it wasn’t a reporter. She stepped away from Keely and answered.
For a moment, there was silence on the other end. Then came static, followed by a faint voice.
“Seńorita Castillo?”
“Yes?”
Keely flashed her an inquiring look. The expression on her face said enough: she had no idea who she was talking to.
“It’s G.”
“G?”
“Guillermo. We spoke today? You haven’t forgot me already, have you?”
“No. Yes, G. of course not. What’s up? How did you get my number?”
He paused. “You gave me your card. You don’t remember that either?”
Miriam shook her head. “I’m sorry. Please, go on.”
“I have some new info for you.”
“New info? About the missing girl?”
“Who do you think? Si, the missing girl. You have the wrong man.”
Miriam turned to face Keely and then held his hands out f
or her to tell him what was going on. Miriam turned back toward the phone. “How do you know?”
“I told you, fat gringo in blue van, yes?”
“You did.”
“Well there’s more than one blue van in this town. If you want to know more, meet me off Chandler Heights. There’s an old park there.”
“You want to meet?” she asked.
“Si. Only you. I don’t trust any of those conyos in your department.”
“Mr. Gomez. If you have information, we’d be happy to get you and take you to the station. You’ll be safe there.”
He cut in, quick to set the record straight. “No deal. You want info, you come out to meet me. And you come alone. I be there.”
With that he hung up, offering nothing else. Miriam held the phone to her ear for a moment, deciding what to tell Keely. He was sure to insist on coming along. He would never let her go alone. And he’d probably be right. The last time Miriam had decided to engage in a secret meeting without her partner, she nearly ended up dead.
But to go against Guillermo was to risk Sarah’s life. She slowly placed her phone in her pocket and approached Keely—who was quick to want answers.
“What was that all about?”
Miriam shrugged with a hint of nonchalance. “It’s no big deal. I have to go pick up Ana now.”
Keely eyed her suspiciously. “Sounded like police business on the phone there.”
She took a step back, feigning indignation. “Were you eavesdropping on my call?”
“Not at all. I was reading your body language.”
“Cute,” she said smiling. She stopped and looked around. “We’ll pick up on this later. Duty calls.”
“What about Sarah? I mean, we can’t very well sleep on this, can we?”
Miriam looked into his eyes. She could tell his concern for the girl matched her own, and hated having to leave him. But what was necessary was necessary.
“I think we both need to step away from this for a few hours,” she said with a hand on his shoulder. “We need to clear our heads.”
Keely looked away, disappointed and surprised by her new attitude.
“Trust me,” she continued. “I wouldn’t even suggest it if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.”
He nodded and handed her the keys. “You go ahead and take it. I’ll get a ride back to the station from one of the guys.”
She thanked him, said good-bye, and headed toward the elevator, walking at a normal pace that she hoped wouldn’t arouse suspicion. By the time the elevator pinged from the fourth floor and the doors opened up, she was ready to jump inside and sprint as fast as she could to the car.
She reached the first floor and saw the congressman just leaving with his security detail. His wife was standing by the drop-off circle next to a shiny SUV, crying. Sheriff Bork and Vargas were circling back through the lobby, heading in Miriam’s direction. She stopped and threw her back against the nearest pillar, hiding. They walked right past her without taking notice. She breathed a sigh of relief and fled outside, avoiding contact with anyone who looked her way.
As she pulled out of the parking lot, it dawned on her that she needed to check in with Ana before moving on to anything else. She placed a call while turning out of the hospital lot and onto East Riggs Road, which led right to Chandler Heights—a mainly desolate area where few occupied homes or businesses remained.
Any suspicions she had of Guillermo’s intentions subsided when she thought about the fact that she was armed and ready for anything. Just the thought that he could provide information about Sarah’s abductor propelled her forward.
“Mom?” Ana said on the phone.
“Hey, honey,” Miriam said, holding the phone up on speaker. “How’s it going? Are you at Jessica’s house?”
“Her name’s, Tina, Mom. Geez.”
“I’m sorry,” Miriam said, laughing.
“Yes, I’m at Tina’s. Her mom’s going to make dinner soon. You still want me home by eight?”
Miriam thought to herself. “Better just make it nine. If her mother doesn’t mind, of course.”
She could feel the excitement in Ana’s voice. “Cool! No, they don’t mind.”
Miriam arched a brow. “You sure about that?”
“Yes, Mom. Okay?”
“I love you, honey, and I’ll see you soon.”
“All right, Mom. Love you, bye!”
Ana hung up, and Miriam set the phone on the middle console. She turned the police radio up a tad to hear the latest. There was some chatter about their suspect at the hospital, but no new reports about Sarah. Miriam looked at the two street signs ahead as she continued down the long, largely rural road, entering desert country.
Guillermo had earned a modicum of trust from her, but she still had her suspicious. With one hand on the wheel, she grabbed her purse and searched for her wallet. His information was most likely going to come with some additional costs.
She turned right onto Chandler Heights, a long, barren stretch of road that seemed to go on to infinity. She passed a closed-down gas station with old-fashioned pumps. The windows were barred. The empty parking lot had weeds growing out of every crack.
The Mobil sign looked faded, and if that wasn’t enough, the pumps had yellow bags over them. She looked ahead, scanning for any kind of park. A quarter mile farther, she came upon a poorly maintained baseball field surrounded by a chain-link fence. She was close. Past the baseball field, in the distance, there was an empty dirt lot with an unoccupied playground and a nearby run-down restroom building.
She slowed to a halt on the side of the road and picked up her cell phone, calling G’s number. Beyond the dirt lot, a crooked sign hanging on the fence read Heights Park. There was an old slide, swing set, and merry-go-round in view. Her Beretta fit snugly in her side holster, and she was prepared to use it if anything seemed out of the ordinary. The phone rang a few times before G finally answered.
“Are you here?” she asked.
“Si. You alone?” he asked. His voice sounded distant, as though he were a million miles away.
“Yes,” she said. “Are you?”
“I am,” he said.
“How did you get out here?”
Exhaust spewed from the back of her idling car as she waited, fully prepared to flee at a moment’s notice. Already something didn’t seem right about the meet-up.
“I have my ways. And I’m not here to play games.”
“I want to believe you, Guillermo, but this whole thing seems shady.” Her need for answers had blinded her, but just when she was ready to put the car in drive, she saw G walk out from behind the small building and toward the swing set, holding a cell phone.
“You see me?”
“I do. But I need assurances that you’re alone.”
He sat on the first swing and rocked back and forth, watching her from about a hundred feet away. “You come here to ask the same questions, or you want to talk about the girl?”
“I need more than ultimatums. How about you meet me in my car and we talk?”
“Trust is a two-way street. If you can’t trust me, then our conversation is done here,” he said flatly. He hung up on her, calling her bluff. With the cell phone in hand, he continued to swing, beckoning her to get out of the car as if he was dangling a carrot.
Angered, Miriam shifted into drive but didn’t press the gas. Sarah entered her mind again. She called G back, but he wouldn’t answer. A few words came to mind, asshole being one of them. She put her head down and shifted back into park, turning the ignition off. Whatever game he was playing, she hoped that it would be worth it.
She got out of the car and immediately went for her pistol. Rusty swing chains squeaked as G swayed back and forth. Miriam scanned the area around her and kept a careful eye on her man. Dust collected on her shoes as she walked across the dirt lot, nearing the swing set.
“Heck of a place to meet,” she said, approaching the fence that divided the lot from the
playground. He would lure her no farther. He remained on the swing in an act of defiance.
“What do you have for me?” she asked.
He stopped swinging and gestured to the empty swing next to him.
“This is where we meet halfway,” she replied. “You familiar with that concept?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, waving it from behind the fence.
G looked rolled his eyes. “That supposed to get me running over there? Thought you had more respect for me.”
She pushed the twenty back into her pocket and gripped the fence with her hand. “What I don’t have is time for this. You said you have some information. I came. I’m only offering something for your time.”
“Women always look at me like I’m a piece of dirt. I see the same look in your eyes now.”
“What are you talking about? Guillermo, you called me. Remember that. It’s very clear why I came.”
“You want to hear about the girl?” he asked, shifting gears.
“Yes,” she responded.
He hopped off the swing. His knees creaked as his shoes dug into the dirt. “You have the wrong man,” he said, dusting himself off and approaching her.
“You said that on the phone,” she said.
“I know. Lots of people on the streets are talking about it.”
“You had mentioned a man with burns. Is that the guy?”
“Could be,” he said. “You should have listened to me the first time.” He stopped inches away from her.
“I’m listening now. Tell me who it is,” she said, her eagerness getting the upper hand.
He glanced behind her. “He’s right here. You can meet him yourself.”
She whipped around with her gun pointed as two bean-bag rounds launched into her chest like rockets, throwing her into the fence and knocking the air completely out of her. She collapsed to the ground with intense pain shooting through her body. She couldn’t breathe. She could barely move.
Standing in the dirt only a few feet away, she saw a pair of boots that began casually walking toward her. She lifted her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. A man in a black robe strolled closer, holding a shotgun pointed in her direction.
