“Cal, you acted on your instincts. You protected me. I won’t forget that.”
“But I didn’t do anything. If he wanted to kill us, I couldn’t have protected you.”
“Well, maybe you should enroll in some karate classes and leave the photography to me.”
Cal cracked his first smile since earlier that morning. He adored Kelly’s witty one-liners.
She turned serious again. “I know I freaked out back there, but we’re going to do this. We’re going to get that boy back with his parents where he belongs. We have to.”
Cal was still processing everything when a banged-up Ford Festiva pulled up next to them.
“Cal? Kelly?” the driver asked.
“Yeah. That’s us,” Cal said.
“My cousin, Carlos, told me you would be waiting for me here. Please get inside the car.”
They both got in the back seat as requested.
“My name is Josuel. It’s nice to meet you.”
Josuel’s English was sufficient though Cal could tell any prolonged conversation would likely be a struggle.
“Where are we going, Josuel?” Cal asked.
“I have a friend who is going to let you stay with him for a few days. He will be… how do you say… discreet?”
“Discreet?”
“Ah, yes, discreet.”
And that was the end of the small talk. Josuel pulled back onto the two-lane road that Cal and Kelly had used to access Mr. Hernandez’s compound.
“You might want to hide under the blanket I put in the back,” Josuel said.
“Why is that?” Cal asked.
“This is a very watched road. It would not be good for either of us if we are seen together.”
Cal and Kelly didn’t say another word as they slipped beneath the blanket.
* * *
AFTER 20 MINUTES, the car came to a stop.
“It’s safe to come out now,” Josuel said.
Cal and Kelly climbed from beneath the blanket and sat up. They were inside what looked like an auto repair shop. Two cars were up on makeshift blocks, while another car rested on the ground with no wheels.
“What is this place?” Cal asked.
“It’s where I work. There is a couch and a chair in the office where you can stay tonight.”
“Is this safe?” Kelly asked.
“For tonight. We are closed on the weekends. No one will look for you here.”
“Where are we exactly?” Cal questioned.
“We are two blocks northeast from the square where your hotel was located.”
Josuel proceeded to give them instructions on how to get out, how to lock up, and what to do if anyone came around.
“Do you need anything else?”
“I guess not,” Cal said.
He lied. He needed a fresh change of clothes and a hot shower. He needed to be out of Juarez and back in Houston writing about the Super Bowl. He needed this nightmare to be over.
Josuel lingered waiting for an official dismissal.
“We’ll be fine,” Kelly said, giving Josuel permission to leave. “Thank you again.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said before opening the garage door and pulling out.
Cal yanked on the chain to close the garage door. Through two small windows near the top of the 20-foot ceiling, the afternoon sun dimly lit the interior. Cal searched for lights inside the cramped office as he thought about their instructions for the next day. A small lamp sat on the corner of the worn wooden desk, awash in a sea of paperwork. Cal clicked it on and the uncovered bulb flickered to life.
“What do we do now?” Kelly asked.
“I think we ought to let our FBI handler know we’re alive,” Cal answered.
“But we don’t have a cell phone.”
“Well, there is a phone here. I memorized the emergency number.”
“Look at you, Boy Scout. Always prepared.”
“I didn’t take this assignment lightly—and I’m sure glad I didn’t now.”
Cal picked up the phone on the desk and dialed the number.
“Please enter your security password,” came the automated response on the other end.
Cal punched in the numbers on the keypad and waited. A series of clicks and whirls passed the seconds while Cal awaited the voice of a real human being.
“Is this Mr. Murphy?” asked the voice on the other end.
“Yes, it is. I’d like to speak to Agent Solterbeck.”
“Hold on a minute.”
He looked at Kelly, who stared at him anxiously awaiting any crumb of news he might toss her way. A few more clicks and then another voice.
“Cal Murphy? Is that you?”
“Sure is. I just wanted to let you know that we’re still alive and working on rescuing Jake.”
“Oh, thank God you’re alive. One of my operatives called in to report that you had been killed in a fiery explosion off a road near Hernandez’s compound.”
“Well, that’s what we were hoping everyone would think.”
“What happened?”
“Well, Hernandez was on to us. I knew we were in trouble when I saw that tattoo I told you about on the arms of one of his bodyguards. We were able to identify where they are holding Jake.”
“Oh, that’s great. We need to get that information from you as soon as possible so we can act on it.”
“Unfortunately, it’s worthless now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, after we left, we were run off the road by one of Hernandez’s men. He told us he would help us save Jake but he had to make it look like we were dead.”
“He must have done a pretty good job. They found bodies on the scene with your identification cards.”
“I don’t know what he did, but he sent us down a ravine to meet with someone who picked us up and brought us to this auto repair shop.”
“Do you know where you’re at? We can come get you right now.”
“We do know where we’re at, but we still want to help. This guy who helped us today—his name was Carlos Rivera—gave us instructions on how we can meet up with some people tomorrow who will give us the information we need to safely get Jake back.”
“So you want to play this thing out?”
“Yeah, if that’s OK with you. Kelly and I both know the risks involved. We figure if we’ve come this far, we should go all the way to make sure Jake gets home safe.”
“It’s up to you. We can have a team there in ten minutes to take you back home.”
“No, I think we’d rather stay and get that information for you. We do need our personal belongings from our room and a new cell phone. Do you think you can put them in a backpack and leave them at San Augustín Chapel for us tomorrow morning?”
“We’ll see what we can do.”
“Thanks.”
“Good luck, Cal. We’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
Cal hung up and relayed the conversation to Kelly. They were worn out from running for their lives and masquerading around the home of a cartel boss. At least he thought they were dead. At least they could sleep in peace for a night.
* * *
MORALES USED A NEW BURNER PHONE to take another picture of Jake. He sent the photo to Noah Larson along with another message:
we know you told … your son will pay
It was not a pretty picture. Jake had a few scratches and cuts on him. He didn’t look emaciated, but it certainly looked like someone had been bullying him.
Morales then kicked Jake, shoving him toward the door. Jake whimpered. “Stop it,” he whined. It was obvious Jake was getting tired of being pushed around. But Morales didn’t care. He hated babysitting the kid and had no qualms about expressing his displeasure.
“I want my mommy and daddy,” Jake said.
“Shut up, kid, and get in the van,” Morales snapped.
Jake stumbled forward, falling down and hitting his head on one of the cobblestones protruding out of the road. A sma
ll stream of blood trickled down his face. He began crying.
“Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough,” Morales grumbled.
Morales yanked the kid off the ground with one hand, being careful not to spill the liquor bottle in his other. He slammed the door shut and sped off toward the city.
CHAPTER 31
CAL WOKE UP EARLY SATURDAY MORNING feeling like he needed a shower. After all, he was going to church. He hadn’t attended a church service in several years. And for good reason. He hated sitting down for an hour and being told how to live his life. He didn’t need any priest’s suggestions. He was doing just fine on his own. But not today. Cal was excited to go. Though he would be reluctant to admit it, he wanted some help now. He needed some intervention, like the kind he received the day before when death had darkened his soul’s doorstep. It took a wild and convoluted turn of events for Cal to realize that he didn’t care about the awards or the spotlight—he just wanted to get Jake home to his dad.
Kelly remained asleep on the small couch in the office. Cal rumbled around the shop until he found a large sink. It wasn’t a shower but it would have to suffice. He found a relatively clean washcloth and splashed water on his face. The water chilled him. Hot water was a luxury that did not exist in Josuel’s shop. The quiet time alone gave Cal a chance to prepare mentally for the day’s coming events. This was it. He was finally going to do what he came here to do. It was all going to work out. He could feel it.
Cal tried to clean the dirty spots on his shirt with a rag. Scaling down an incline the day before wasn’t exactly the best way to keep his clothes suitable for church. But he didn’t dwell on it—and he didn’t care. If people looked down on his attire, he wouldn’t let it bother him. He wasn’t going to impress anyone, especially complete strangers. He was there to find out how he could save a little boy.
Kelly stirred on the couch. She sat up, disoriented and curious as to where Cal was.
“Cal? Cal?” she called.
Cal half jogged back to the office to assure her that everything was fine.
“Yeah, Kelly? I’m here.”
“Oh, I forgot where I was.”
Kelly’s hair was matted to her face and Cal had yet to see her eyes through the tangled mess. She brushed her hair aside with her hands and looked around. She tried to open her eyes wide and yawned. It was the first time Cal had seen Kelly so unfiltered in the morning. He found her routine endearing.
“You ready for today?” he asked.
“I will be,” she said, yawning again. “Is there a shower in this place?”
“Eight o’clock in the morning and your sense of humor is wide awake.”
“Seriously, Cal, is there a shower here?”
“Come on, Kelly. This is a repair shop in Juarez, Mexico. What do you think?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s early and what I do know is that you’ll have to be content with cold water from a large sink and a semi-clean rag to wash up with.”
“Is there any coffee?”
Cal knew she was out of it, but he thought she might be joking. The wry smile creeping across her face gave it away.
“We’ve got some time, but we need to be at the church at nine o’clock. Do you think you can be ready by then?”
Kelly stood up. “After all this time, do you really still think I’m a dainty little princess who can’t face the world without doing my hair and nails and smearing makeup all over my face?” She lightly stomped her foot for effect.
Cal didn’t say a word. He simply smiled at her.
“Well, do you?” she demanded.
“No, Kelly, I don’t.”
“OK, good. I just had to make sure. Sometimes I don’t know about you.”
Kelly woke up in a feisty mood and Cal just wanted to stay out of her way. Maybe she was like this every morning. Maybe she needed her coffee. Maybe she was upset about being in Mexico and not enjoying Super Bowl parties. Cal couldn’t be sure, but he knew silence was the best way to inoculate himself from her mini-rants.
Cal found an old Spanish soccer magazine in the bottom of the desk drawer beneath two half-empty bottles of Jose Cuervo. After spending the next 30 minutes trying to read the magazine and avoiding Kelly altogether, Cal finally spoke.
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”
They exited the shop and stepped into the bright sun. The day was young but Cal knew time was running out for Jake.
* * *
NOAH FELT RELIEVED after he hung up the phone.
“What is it?” Ellen asked.
Noah grinned but said nothing.
“Did they find Jake?” she asked again.
“No, but Cal and Kelly are still alive.”
“What? How did that happen?”
“Apparently, they faked their own death to escape and are supposed to get the FBI his exact location today so they can rescue him.”
“Oh, thank God! Please, just get my little boy back to me!”
Noah felt the same way, but he didn’t verbalize it. He could feel the pressure beginning to mount upon him with each passing hour that Jake remained captive. While he held out hope that the FBI would be able to rescue Jake, it wasn’t a foregone conclusion. And if Jake wasn’t around by the time the game started, he was willing to throw the game. It’s not how he wanted to end his career, but nothing was more important to him than seeing his son alive.
CHAPTER 32
CAL AND KELLY STEPPED into the church ten minutes before the 9 a.m. mass was to begin. Cal wasn’t sure if they would stand out or if anyone would notice them. They were supposed to be dead, and he certainly didn’t want anyone who worked for Hernandez to think otherwise. Attempting to keep their profile low, Cal led Kelly to sit in the back corner of the room next to the three confessionals. If something went wrong, Cal figured that might be a good place to hide.
Although Cal wasn’t sure what to expect, he preferred to get the information from the Padre and go save Jake. He could skip the homily. No such luck.
“Buenas dias, Padre,” Cal said as the priest approached along the outer aisle.
Padre Francisco stopped at the last aisle and spoke softly.
“Buenas dias. Do you have something you would like to confess after mass?”
Cal looked at the priest and nodded.
The priest also nodded and continued walking down the aisle.
“Looks like we’re here for the duration,” Cal said to Kelly.
Kelly wasn’t listening. She was too busy scanning the church for any suspicious parishioners, perhaps someone she noticed yesterday at Hernandez’s place.
Cal joined her and saw nothing that alarmed him.
“I don’t see anyone I notice,” she said in a hushed voice.
“Neither do I.”
Just then the organ music began and everybody stood up. Moments later they sat down again. Then everyone kneeled. Cal was lost. So was Kelly. Their decision to sit in the back was a good one if they were trying to be inconspicuous. Mimicking the up and down movements of the others in the congregation was much easier to do from behind.
The priest’s homily was about never losing faith in God. His homily covered a story from the New Testament where Jesus raised a girl from the dead. A man asked Jesus to heal his daughter because she was sick and dying, but Jesus took his time and the girl died before he arrived. Jesus then brought her back to life.
Padre Francisco reached the crescendo of his homily: “Everyone has seen a little child recover from illness, but to see someone raised from the dead? Our faith is built the strongest when we see God do the impossible in our lives.”
Cal’s mind drifted off, thinking about his situation. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought the priest was speaking directly to him, trying to sway him from his cynicism. Cal knew he tipped his feelings about God with his question the day before. But he brushed off the idea. The situation wasn’t impossible. In fact, it was si
mple. The priest tells him where to find Jake. Cal calls the FBI. Jake reunites with his parents. The Super Bowl is played fix-free. Everyone is happy. No God necessary.
Cal then looked at Kelly, who appeared to be listening intently. She had professed her disdain for organized religion to him before, but she was paying close attention, even nodding in agreement at some of the things Padre Francisco said. Maybe this ordeal was getting to her. Cal dismissed it and anxiously awaited the end of the service.
* * *
A FEW PARISHONERS GREETED Padre Francisco as they filed out. Cal and Kelly stood up but went nowhere, as they waited for the priest. After a few moments, he shuffled to the confessional and sat down. Cal joined him.
Cal said nothing and waited for the priest to speak.
“Son, the answers you seek can be found in the book of San Juan 1:50. You may also find some help in verse 39. Be blessed.”
Cal committed the scripture references to memory and then got up.
“What did he say, Cal?” Kelly asked.
“Do you have a Bible?”
“No.”
“Grab one of those and let’s go,” Cal said, pointing to a small stack of Bibles near the exit of the church.
“I’m not stealing a Bible. Are you crazy?”
“OK, let’s look these up.”
Cal was amused at the contents from the first verse the priest gave him, though he wasn’t convinced that was the relevant portion.
“San Juan one fifty? San Juan one fifty? I’ve seen that somewhere before.”
“Where? Do you remember?”
“Uh, yes. It was in the brief the FBI gave me on Hernandez. I think that’s an address for Hernandez’s roasting plant. We crossed Avenida de San Juan on our way to the hotel. I don’t think it’s that far from here.”
“And what does the other verse mean?”
“It looks like something is happening there at four o’clock. Let’s go.”
Cal looked back across sanctuary. Padre Francisco stood watching them in the now vacated chapel.
“God be with you, my son,” he said.
Cal nodded and led Kelly out into the street. He respected the priest’s beliefs even if he didn’t share them. Cal still felt like he could do this on his own with Kelly. But if the priest thought he needed God’s help, what could it hurt?
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