He jerked his head toward the back. “Over there.”
I dashed inside the women-only room, locked the door, and fell to my knees. “Thank you, Lord. I’ve found one of them. Now, what do I do?”
I laid my head against the tile wall. Dare I involve my classmates? How much would I have to explain?
I gathered my composure before returning to my table on the patio. I desperately wanted to catch Monica’s eyes, but I remembered what Maria had told me. I could endanger her life. So, I fumbled through my handbag to keep from looking toward the kitchen. After I’d meandered through the maze of tables to my seat, Mindy looked at me.
“We were wondering where you were.”
Vivian touched my arm. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I sighed. They wouldn’t believe half of what I told them. So, I lied. Again. “I saw a huge sewer roach in the restroom. It crawled over my foot when I was on the toilet. I am so scared of them.”
Vivian laughed. “For me, it is snakes, my dear.”
Mindy shuddered. “Mice, rats, even hamsters freak me. Gerbils? They’re way worse.”
“I have a real fear of coyotes, too,” I muttered. My friends gave me blank looks. I took a sip of soda, keeping a half-eye on the swinging kitchen door. After a few minutes, I pretended I’d forgotten an appointment and told Vivian and Mindy I had to leave.
I dashed to my car and grabbed my cell phone to call Maria Gonzales-Taylor. “I found her. I found Monica. She is here in Fort Worth at the Taco Shack near TCC.” I gasped for breath. My heart pounded in my ears. “You know. Where I’ve been going to classes. Tarrant Community College.”
“Whoa. Slow down.” Her voice remained calm. “Are you certain?’
“Yes, absolutely. It was her. She’s working in the kitchen.”
Maria sighed into her receiver. “Are you there now?”
“Yes. I’m in the parking lot. In my car.” Movement caught my eye. The tattooed man was taking trash to the dumpster behind the restaurant. He glanced my way. I turned my head and slouched behind the wheel.
“A man saw me look at her. He’s outside, right now.”
“Then leave. Now.”
I turned my ignition key, backed out of my parking space, then headed for the street. With my cell phone clutched on my shoulder near my ear, I waited for a space in traffic. “Okay. Now what do we do?”
I heard her shuffle papers on her desk. “Come to my office. We’ll talk.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” I slipped my phone from my shoulder and went to click it off. A male hand reached from the back seat and grabbed it.
“No, you won’t, hon.”
I turned to see black locks and deep, iced-blue eyes peering at me. Familiar cologne whiffed into my senses, jump-starting my endorphins. He leaned forward and pecked the corner of my wide-open mouth.
“Hi, lady. Missed me?”
CHAPTER TEN
I wanted to scream and tell him to get out of my car. I also wanted to jump into the back seat and wrap him around me. Instead, I sat there with the engine running, dumbfounded. He got out, came around, and slipped into the front passenger-side seat.
“You should lock your doors.”
“You’d figure out how to open them.” I squirmed and tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
“I’ve liked your speeches. And that was a great interview on the Morning Commute with Carl show. You are becoming quite the star.”
Under my breath, I counted to three. “I want you to get out.” In the rearview mirror, I saw a car pulling up behind me. I motioned to the car door. “Right now.”
His hand grabbed mine. “We need to talk, Jen. You can’t tell them about Monica. Not yet.”
I stared at him.
“Yes, I know she’s here. In fact, I helped make that happen. It’s better than where she would have ended up.”
I whirled to face him. “You knew?” I slapped the fool out of him. I couldn’t help it. My hand was across his face before my brain registered what it was doing.
“Okay,” he moved his jaw back and forth. “I deserved that, I guess.”
I lowered my hand, fisted it, and held it in my lap to keep it from shaking. Tears stung my eyes. Since I had met this man, I had begun to hit, lie, and hate. “I want you out of my life. And out of hers.”
He inched over to me and rubbed my shoulder. “You don’t mean it, hon. You love me as much as I love you. Admit it.”
The man in the car behind us blared his car horn. In my rearview mirror, I saw him raise his hands in frustration.
Tom looked in the rearview mirror. “You’d better move. You’re blocking the drive.” I gunned the car into traffic, turned the corner, and pulled into a convenience store. I pulled the key from the ignition, and shoved it into my purse. “No,” I hissed. “I hate you.”
He reached for me, but I was already out of my seat. I slammed the car door in his face.
I had to get away to call Maria. Once again a restroom would work as my refuge. Then, I could call the police, too. The stalking had to end. Tom really was insane.
My finger had already curled around the store’s door when he snatched it. “I said, we need to talk. Hear me out, Jen. Then decide. Please.”
A black woman with three small children in tow pushed past us, one eyebrow cocked. I shoved my hair behind my ear, looked down at the sidewalk, then up to the top of the store’s marquee—anywhere but into his eyes.
“Jen? Look at me.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to trust you, Tom. So help me...” My hand was shoulder-height again. He reared back and raised both of his in front of his chest. I swallowed my anger and headed for my car. He rushed ahead to open my door.
“You won’t go away, will you?”
“Jen, this may be all wrong, but it’s time you heard the whole story.” He held the door open, his knuckles white. “Hear me out, then decide if we should ever see each other again.”
I sucked all the air I could through my nose and exhaled. “And you will abide by my wishes?”
“Absolutely.”
I edged toward the front seat. “Where are we going?”
“Just get in and drive. I’ll give you directions. It’ll be some place safe, with people. No back alleys or open fields.”
I spied a wry smile inch toward the sparkling blue in his eyes. My heart tumbled. I sighed and dug for my keys. They weren’t there.
Puzzled, I saw them swinging between his fingers as he got in the passenger side. “Didn’t want to you leave without me.” He fastened his seatbelt, and plopped them into my waiting hand.
“At least this time you aren’t burning my car.”
“Nice one, by the way. Mazda, right?”
I didn’t respond. I turned the ignition and tried not to look into his face, afraid I might crater. Remain calm, Jen. Play along Find out what he wants...just keep your head straight.
He gave me directions as I continued my self-help mantras.
I nodded and did as I was told. We drove up Highway 360 to Grapevine, and then turned onto Main Street. It was an historic area with a nineteenth century city hall claiming majesty in the middle of the town. Quaint shops and boutiques lined the street. Traffic became bumper-to-bumper and was diverted to side street parking lots offering safekeeping for ten dollars a day. Banners stretched above the road announced the festival was called Main Street Days.
Tom pointed to a parking lot and motioned me to pull in. “Safety in numbers. Besides, we deserve to have a good time. I hear the homemade ice cream is fabulous.” He reared up, took his wallet from his right hip pocket, and handed me a ten dollar bill.
“Thanks. Money’s a bit tight right now.” I punched my automatic window button and handed the attendant the money. He pointed to a vacant stall on the left, two rows over.
Tom winked. “I know. You’re a starving student now. Don’t worry, it’s all on me. Whatever you want to eat, drink, or buy. Let’s go.”
“And then you’ll tell me what this is all about?”
“Uh-huh. Promise.” He got out, came around, opened my door, and extended his hand like a gentleman. Once I swiveled out, he laced his arm through my elbow.
I slung my purse onto my other shoulder. “Okay. Where to?”
“Those shops look fun.” He motioned up the block and began to walk, me in tow. We entered the crowds, jostling left, then right at a snail’s pace. He pulled me closer to him so our hips rubbed together as we walked. Leaning close, he spoke into my ear. “Let’s just window shop for now, blend in. In a while maybe we can find a quieter side café and talk.”
I nodded and pointed to a store with candles, cows, and bluebonnet-painted cups and saucers sprinkled amongst antiques. We went in. At least ten other people were browsing the shelves as an elderly lady with a red gingham blouse and denim skirt painted with sequin-lined stars grinned a Texas welcome. Tom eased us over to the candle section and picked up one for me to sniff. “I knew those coyotes who have Monica, Jen. They were part of the group we were trying to infiltrate for the government.”
“Get real.”
“Jen, I’ve never lied to you. I’ve just withheld some truths. Now, I want to tell you everything.”
I put the candle back and spun to face him. “Why now?”
He raised his eyes, tipped a pretend hat to some ladies who had also eyed the candles and pulled me toward the jars of jams. His voice volume lowered. “Because you’re getting too close to danger. You have to back off.”
“So this isn’t a social call?” My sarcasm was thicker than the cactus jalapeño jelly I held in my hand.
He rolled his eyes, set the jar down, and grabbed my elbow again. He pulled us back into the mob of tourists. How they could be so eager to come here on a sweltering Texas day in order to part with their money was beyond me. A bank marquee flashed 92 degrees even though it was only May. A droplet of sweat rolled down my temple to my cheek.
He nudged me in the back. “Let’s go down this way. Ice cream will cool us off.”
Tom bought two double-dipped vanilla ice creams in waffle cones with peach pecan syrup. He handed me one and guided me toward a bistro set for four in a side alley.
“I thought you said no alleys?”
“Ha, ha.” He pulled out a chair for me.
“Jen, Homeland Security is getting more efficient at shutting down the borders. Part of that process is identifying the smugglers who are delivering these girls—and boys, by the way—to the traffickers. Originally, our job was to find out as much as we could about their network.”
“Yours and Mae Lin’s?” Her name was poison in my mouth.
“No. Mine…and his.” His eyes rose as a shadow crossed our table. I turned to see a face I thought I’d never see again, sipping on a Coke.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
My dead husband slid into the chair next to me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
My heart stopped. The alley spun. Two hands grabbed me before my face smashed into my ice cream cone. “Take a deep breath, Jen.”
“I—I...Robert?” The words stuck in my throat. Tears cascaded down my cheeks as I tossed my ice cream on the table and threw my shaky arms around him. I felt his heart beating against my ear. He is alive. I clung to him and sobbed.
He pulled away. “Get a grip. Not in public. You’ll make a scene.”
I wiped my eyes and looked at Tom for answers. His face was pained. I straightened my posture, and then looked back and forth between them. Robert’s olive-colored eyes narrowed in on Tom and went cold.
Tom got up. “Right. I’ll give you five minutes with her. But that’s all.” He screeched the metal chair out of the way and meandered across the street, hands shoved deep into his jean pockets.
I spun to my husband. “Five minutes?”
“It’s all a dead man can afford, Jen.”
I cupped his chin. A half-day bristle had formed. “Why?”
He pulled my hand away. “I was putting you and me in too much danger. I had to plan it this way. I couldn’t tell you because it had to be believable.”
Venom rose in my throat. “Your death devastated me.”
His green eyes misted. “I know.” It came out in a whisper. He blinked and his Adam’s apple thrust. Then, he shook his head. “This was not a good idea.”
My husband stood and moved away. I reached for him. “Robert!”
He grabbed me by the shoulders. “Jen. Hear me. I am dead. For your sake. I’ve gotten too deep to come back. I am a head coyote now. The white Jefe.”
My words barely slid out of my mouth. “The man Marisol said raped one of them every night?”
A vicious sneer came across his face. “Part of the job, sweetheart.”
So it was true. Or was this just another lie to weave into the web of deceit he’d manufactured for so long? Had he ever told me the truth about anything? I shook my head, not wanting to believe him.
He clenched his hands, his fingers pressed into me. “Jen. Those girls you are so desperate to find? Don’t bother. I traffic hundreds of them.”
I jerked away from his touch and cupped my ears. “No.”
He pulled my fingers away. “Yes. I have broken our vows time and again. I sleep with them, Jen. Break them in. Show them what American men expect. It is all part of it.”
I bit my lip. His words hung between us, my brain refusing to absorb them.
“Marisol is carrying my child.”
“Nooooo!” I screamed and ran into the crowd.
Tears flowed from my face, as I shoved people aside. The truth I’d feared had spewed from his lips along with a vile look in his eyes—a look I’d never seen before, nor cared to see again.
I didn’t know where I was going. I couldn’t feel my legs. Pure instinct kept me moving block after block until my sides wrenched with pain. I wrapped my arms around my waist and slid to the ground, curling myself into a fetal position behind a dumpster.
I couldn’t have his baby and Marisol could? He chose to give his seed for her to carry and not me? Bile pushed into my throat.
“God help me. I hate him. I hate him. I hate You!”
I threw up. Months of tears, hurt, fear, and anger all spewed onto the ground between my knees, right along with the ice cream. I felt Tom’s hands on my back. I jerked myself out of his grasp.
“Here.” A cool, damp hankie was placed in my lap. I rocked back and laid my pounding head against the searing heat of the metal dumpster wall. My shoulder muscles eased, but my chest still heaved.
“Oh, God. Comfort this woman. Give her strength.” Tom grabbed the cloth and washed my face in soft, gentle strokes.
Footsteps crunched on the caliche path in the semi-paved alley. I squinted to see black boots, and sunglasses under a Stetson hat. A badge gleamed in the afternoon sun. “Ma’am? You need help?”
Tom rose to his feet. “Heat got to her, I think. I thought the peach ice cream would help, but it made it worse.”
How easily he lied—just as he’d taught me to do.
The two men lifted me to my feet as my legs tried to find the ground.
“You want me to call an ambulance?”
“No. Our car is a block over. Help me get her to it, and I’ll take her home.”
I didn’t care. Let them drag me to wherever they wanted. My life was over. Nothing mattered now.
* * *
All the way back I leaned against the car window staring out into space as fields and fences zipped by, then turned into pylons and concrete lanes in the city. My body shook, in spite of the heat. The AC blasted my face, drying my tear ducts. My brain felt numb.
Tom pulled into a dilapidated duplex somewhere off McCart Lane in Fort Worth. “This is my home now.”
I don’t care. Take me back to the bomb shelter coffin and dump me. Zombie-like, I let him shuffle me inside and down the hall. He laid me on a bed, pulled my legs around, and took off my shoes. Then he placed a pillow under m
y head with the care of a professional nurse. I stared at the ceiling.
When he sat next to me, the mattress gave under his weight. His body heat chilled me. I inched away, rolled onto my side, and drew my legs tight to my chest.
He brushed my hair back from my eyes. “Rest, Jen. I’ll be in the next room.”
“Watching through a black hump in the ceiling?”
I heard his breath suck in, then release through his nose. “No, hon. Not this time.” He caressed my shoulder. “Whenever you want to talk, scream, cry, or whatever, I’m here. Call for me.”
The mattress thickened under me as his body left it. I heard his footsteps, then the light switch click and the door hinges squeak. I squinted and waited for another click—of the lock—but none came. I half-turned to see. In the shadow of the ceiling I saw a wedge of reflected light. He’d left the door ajar. Well, wonders never ceased. I sucked in a deep breath and felt a residual shiver before my body relaxed. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift.
I didn’t need to be drugged this time. Pure exhaustion did the trick.
* * *
When my eyes opened again, the room was pitch black, except for the wedge of light, which now stretched onto the wall, brighter and more yellowed. In the distance I heard the muted hum of TV voices and laughter, then a familiar commercial jingle coming through the wall from next door. Duplex. Right. He had neighbors.
My whole body ached as if I’d been kicked and dragged by a mule. A wave of nausea pumped rancid bile into my throat. I flipped over, aiming my face at the floor just as an acidic stream burst through my lips.
Immediately Tom was there, washcloth in hand. “Maybe I should get you to the hospital.”
I shook my head and spat out the last of the phlegm. I wiped my face and the back of my neck with the cloth. The coolness calmed my nerves.
He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed my back. “Do you want me to stay?”
Unlike my time in the bomb shelter, this time I knew the answer. “Yes, please stay with me.”
He collected me into his arms and rocked me as the sobs began again, then turned into wails. His voice cooed, and his hands caressed me until I was all cried out. First, he soothed my nerves. Then, his lips moved from my neck, to my cheek, to my mouth and pressed my breath to mingle with his.
Hush in the Storm Page 23
