by Kristen Lamb
“Yet under all our noses. Dammit.”
“With everything going on in Bisby, all the new construction? There are a million ways to hide what they’re doing and also an exploding population of bored rich people with drug habits. And the added benefit of bypassing border checks by going underneath them.”
“How did Heather know about the caves?”
“My mom. I don’t know the connection from there, but I know my mom had the map and that’s why she died. She was heading to meet Anthony Folken because she didn’t trust the local law.”
“Why?”
“No clue. But Heather knows who killed her and she knew she needed to get to that evidence to cover for whoever did. She also couldn’t chance my mom had the map with her. If anyone found that diagram and figured out what it was…”
“They’d uncover the tunnels and the underground operation.”
“She saw Josh and Keith in that field, then JC and the family come to my place that night. Might have suspected the kids found something.”
“The word ‘might’ is not giving me a lot of confidence.”
“This is all a guess, but she could have easily seen I’d taken a fan and a stool from Daddy, which was technically theft. She pulled strings to get a warrant and send in Meyerson.”
“How do you know this?”
“When I…uh, questioned Meyerson he was adamant he was really there for a fan and a stepstool. He didn’t think it made sense, but it totally does.”
“It was so you’d blame him for trashing your place.”
“Also, Heather could show up and play protector. She made sure to take me to meet Meyerson on day one, made it appear he was taking bribes to keep Nana out of jail, but he wasn’t.”
“He wasn’t?”
“No. Ferris ordered my grandmother was to be protected as a favor to Heather. Meyerson was only doing what he was told. But Heather was laying the seeds for me not to trust the police.”
“It worked.’”
“Then she gives me her truck, her uniforms, a new trailer and all her hand-me-down clothes. I now look enough like her, which is why Tito attacked me at the bar.”
“And Heather Lachlan is now, for all intents and purposes, Daphne Idensloph. All that’s left is to let Los Espectros tie up final loose ends.” He stared at the torn seat and all the drugs artfully worked into the doorframe.
“Heather is now Daphne and has all the stolen money, well over a half a billion by now at least. She’s also going to receive payment for helping Los Espectros run their underground network and provide a front. Also, as Daphne Idensloph, she can help them launder their illegal money through the town. Most of the businesses coming here wouldn’t have ever known a housekeeper named Heather Lachlan. She’s a ghost.”
“They’d only know Daphne,” he said, his face grim.
“She kills Daphne for the money and her identity. Kills Phil, because he was frankly begging to get whacked.”
“Also, he’s a liability and she wasn’t nearly as attached as his wife.”
I nodded.
“What do we do now? And who’s Heather’s business partner?”
“I only have a guess, but that’s what I’m headed to find out if you will un-cuff me.” I glared at him.
“We can’t do this alone. I need to call in some help. Get them over to that new trailer. Your family isn’t living there yet, are they?”
“Not for a couple days, but you can’t call anyone.”
“What do you mean I can’t call anyone?”
“I need to move now. Heather was planning to leave for Grand Cayman. Why now? Because she has a perfect alibi when her family is slaughtered. If you call in a bunch of agencies and interrupt her plans for erasing her family, she’ll know she can’t come back and has access to enough money to be gone for good.”
“Do nothing?”
“You call in help and she’ll know. We’ll take off the hydra’s head, but we need to go for the heart. If we don’t, I’m dead, my family’s dead, and Bisby’s Los Espectros’ bitch.”
“All well and good, but I’m only one guy and you’re not exactly trained for this. We can perhaps arrange for Witness Protection for you and your family. The drugs in the truck and new house should be enough—”
“Sure, and I get a new life somewhere else, looking over my shoulder while Heather enjoys the rich life after betraying everyone who ever loved her. I don’t think so.”
“I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice leaden.
“Unless you let me go, I’m as good as gone already. This is my only chance and the longer you keep me here, the slimmer that chance is getting.”
“Dammit.” He unlocked my cuffs. “But I’m coming. Even if it is suicide,” he grumbled.
I stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes and his shoulders drooped, a man resigned to imminent defeat.
“You’re thinking they hold all the advantages, but they don’t,” I said.
“Glad you’re an eternal optimist. I feel like we’re at the Alamo.”
“One thing Heather’s taught me is to never underestimate your opponent. She knew I’d never want to see her as anything but my loving older sister who sacrificed to take care of the mess I’d left. She used my guilt, my proclivity to see only the good in people to blind me.”
“How’s that an advantage?”
“She thinks I’m still blind.”
“But what do we have?”
“The element of surprise,” I said.
“Surprise. Fabulous. While that’s great in the movies, they probably have an entire army down there.”
“Probably do.” My phone beeped. It was an incoming text from an unknown number.
One hour.
I stared at the text a long moment, knowing this was my last chance to back out. I could run and hide and maybe even stay alive. I gritted my teeth then said, “The decision’s already been made.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They have their army. I have mine.”
“Who’s your army?”
“Not exactly sure.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Probably, but I need to go.”
“Not if I arrest you for drug possession.”
“Go ahead, but you can’t keep me safe. Those drugs are stolen from Los Espectros. I won’t last a night.”
He let out a low growl. “Fine. Have it your way.”
“We do need a little help. You can call Angel, but he can’t tell anyone else.”
He nodded.
“We’re going underground, and we need supplies.” I stared at my father’s trailer. I checked the key ring Heather gave me, and sure enough, there was a key to the trailer. I crept up the porch and snuck inside. Tonight was Nana’s Bingo night, and I heard my dad snoring away in the recliner, barely drown out by the blare of The Sands of Iwo Jima. I tiptoed to Heather’s old room and found some clothes. I shrugged on some faded black jeans and battered work shoes. I found a sparkly dark gray turtleneck in the closet. I turned it inside out and slipped it on, even though it was hot as hell outside and the rhinestones made me itch. I patted through the vanity and found an old pallet of gray and black eye shadow, that I smeared all over my face. As I eased through the living room, I noted the knives and cleaning supplies were still lying out on the coffee table. The man never changed and for once, I was very grateful. I helped myself to a fixed-blade knife. Six inches of Damascus steel, serrated on one side, deadly sharp on the other.
I locked the door behind me and inched down the steps.
“Nice outfit, Rambo,” he said.
“I prefer Chuck Norris.”
“Okay, Chuck.” Sawyer handed me a holster for the .45. “I know you still have it.”
I returned a guilty smile and strapped on the holster and clipped the knife sheath to my belt. The bandana reeked of Teflon lubricant, but I needed to cover my hair. I stared up to the stars, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time I saw them.
/> Chapter Twenty-Two
We wended our way through the black stretch of land between the trailer park and the Eisler Ranch. The house sat quiet as a morgue. Angel stepped out of the shadows, dressed in full tactical gear, including a black balaclava, yet seemed unfazed by the smothering heat.
“Care to fill me in?” he said.
Sawyer briefed Angel what I’d pieced together.
“Why do you need to go down there?” Angel asked.
“Because I have to open the doors. I’m betting they’re locked from the inside.”
“How do you know?” Sawyer asked.
“Because I know. I also have something else I’m looking for.”
“What?” Angel and Sawyer asked in unison.
“Not sure yet,” I said.
“We could get all of us killed, but you’re not sure,” Angel said.
“I’ll know it when I see it,” I snapped.
Angel muttered a string of curses in Spanish and led the way inside the forgotten home and broke a glow stick then covered it so we’d only have a hint of illumination in the room.
“Ortiz,” Sawyer said. “Keep an eye out. Make sure no one comes after.”
“I should go with you,” Angel replied.
“No,” I said. “We need you to make sure no one comes in from behind. Send help if we need it. We have no idea the condition of those tunnels and all three of us being buried alive is not my idea of a good day.”
Angel scowled, but nodded and worked a bulletproof vest over my head and strapped me in as best he could. Thing weighed a ton. “Sorry, amiga. They don’t make these in Kiddie Sizes,” he said as he tucked two extra magazines for the .45 into the vest’s front pocket. “I should be down there with you.”
“I can fit through those holes better than you,” I said and squeezed his hand.
“I can shoot better than you,” he replied. “Watch yourself.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Sawyer said as he slipped an AR-15 over his back. He tucked a handful of silver packets into my vest with the ammo.
“What’s that?”
“QuikClot. Just in case,” he said.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Angel handed us radios, IR flashlights and helmets with goggles. “NVGs. Night vision goggles,” he clarified. “You don’t want to be shining flashlights around down there.”
I rolled my eyes. “I knew that.”
“It’s old generation, though. Best I could get last-minute.”
“What does that mean? Old generation?” I asked.
“Even low light can overload the circuits, blind you. Stay in the dark,” Angel said.
“That was the plan,” I said more than a little sarcastically.
“The infrared flashlights will help you see without being seen.” Angel slipped the helmet on my head and adjusted it, then switched on the night-vision. The pitch-black world suddenly glowed green. Then he clipped the radio to my belt and affixed it to a headset. “This button here sets it to VOX.”
“To what?” I asked.
“Voice activated,” he replied and shook his head. “Sawyer, this is a bad idea. We get her and her family to safety, call in the right—”
“And the person behind this will vanish,” I said.
Sawyer nodded. “Romi’s source says there is something big going on. I’m thinking they’ve been finishing out the network and stockpiling while waiting for the green.”
“For the trailer park to be bulldozed,” Angel said.
“The timeline’s been severely shortened, which makes me think her theory has merit.” He attached a camera to his helmet. “Guess we’ll soon see.”
“Do I get a head-cam, too?” I asked as I tried to cinch my vest tighter, to no avail.
“No, too short notice. Lucky to have even one,” Angel said. “You need this.” He started to give me his balaclava but I stopped him.
“You need it and I think I might pass out in that. Thanks, though.” I held his hand.
Angel shrugged. “As you wish.” He fished out a small round container and smeared a thick layer of black greasepaint on my face. “An A for effort, but this is better.” He looped the safety rope around me, and I continued the briefing where Sawyer left off. “And if there are a lot of trucks, no one would think anything of it because they’re building warehouses and trucking in volcanic soil. Their distribution will soon explode. I’m banking the ATF, ICE, and the DEA have been trying to find the honey-hole and I think we’ve found it.” I didn’t tell them my other theory. Kept that one close to my chest. I believed I knew who Heather’s new partner was, but they wouldn’t believe me if I said it. Moment of truth. This time tomorrow I could be dead or being tortured. A sobering thought. I shivered at the memory of the butchered man with the knives in his head.
This time, Sawyer kicked at the metal covering until it gave way and clattered with a banging echo to the bottom of the well. Bands of rebar fashioned into a makeshift ladder began inches below the old seal. I was grateful for the safety-rope. Who knew if these bars would hold after all these years?
Angel tossed the glow stick to the bottom of the well. We eased ourselves down to the cement floor, covered in forgotten beer cans and trash. Sawyer pointed to a crawlspace that had been hastily bricked off. Angel lowered a pry bar and Sawyer worked the loosely mortared bricks free, trying to be as quiet as possible.
We belly-crawled through a narrow tunnel for what felt like hours. I wouldn’t have been able to see my hand in front of my face without the night-vision and IR flashlight. I couldn’t see great, but at least I could see. Was like watching the world through a green glass bottle. Dusty stagnant air filled my lungs, making it hard to breathe, even harder not to panic. Finally, the space opened up into an old cave reinforced with wooden boards. Sawyer shone the IR flashlight. Two skeletons sat in the corner, the clothes rotted off their bodies and skulls in their laps. Both had been beheaded, Xs carved so deeply in the foreheads, the bone had been scored.
I flipped on my own IR light and shone the beam on the hands. When I saw the class ring I’d returned before leaving for college, my head swam. “Cotton,” I whispered. I wanted to cry for my childhood love, and kick the other skeleton, Delroy, for getting Cotton killed. But, emotions clouded thinking. Emotions could get us killed, so I locked my rage and grief in that compartment once occupied by solely by my mother. I always knew Cotton made the wrong choice, but never imagined how wrong. I wanted to take the ring back, but there could be evidence on it. I’d ask for it later, if there was a later. Sawyer touched my hand and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” I mouthed in response.
“Ortiz. You read?” Sawyer said over his radio, his voice low.
“Lima Charlie,” I heard Angel’s voice in my headset. “Camera feed’s good, too. Over.”
Sawyer leaned close and whispered, “These tunnels haven’t been used in ages.” There were cobwebs everywhere. “If they were still active, they’d have reinforced them. We need to be careful. Could cave in.”
“I know. I expected this,” I said and tried not to scratch my face. The greasepaint itched like hell.
“You did?”
“Based off the old diagram, I think these areas are abandoned. I believe they’ve been slowly adding to the network and planning ahead. The new network will come up closer to the vineyard and I am betting there’s another very important tunnel.”
He stopped me. “What’s Ed? DEA? ICE? ATF?”
“IHNI.”
“Huh?”
“IHNI. I have no idea. I am hoping he’s undercover, but...”
“You don’t know for sure?”
“The Devils have been trying to get in the big game for a while, but Los Espectros was using them. Either Ed is calling his handler to secure the proper warrants or he’s calling on his bros, and we’ll be letting in The Devils.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“The way I see it, the enemy of
my enemy is my friend.” I shrugged.
“And we get caught in an underground gang war. This is your plan?”
“I gave you a chance to back out and you handcuffed me. Remember?”
“Yes.” He scowled.
I caught his arm and whispered, “I gave Ed a copy of the diagram and based off the Eisler Ranch, I pointed out several probable entry points, and we’re going to make sure the doors are open.”
“Probable? This sucks Romi. We could be down here alone against an army of really bad men and we’re assuming Ed is undercover and not a smart criminal playing you the fool.”
“Ed is Anthony Folken. I know it.”
“Or good at playing you. Phil did. Heather did. You aren’t the best at reading people, you know.”
