The Chase

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The Chase Page 20

by DiAnn Mills


  She laughed, remembering her younger days and the trouble she’d gotten into.

  The nursing home was a ten-minute drive. Poor Xavier, exploring every corner more than once to find his child … a child who might not even have been born or belonged to him.

  The brick building housing the elderly looked in better shape than Kariss expected. The modest grounds had two crepe myrtles blooming in dark pink flowers, and purple and white petunias bloomed in flower beds along both sides of the facility’s entrance. She parked her car and gave Xavier a reassuring smile. If only they could find useful information … But she had her reservations.

  The moment Kariss stepped inside the nursing home, she detected the faint odors characteristic of most nursing homes — urine and aging bodies. Difficult to remove the smells, even the cleanest of facilities had trouble dealing with the problem. This one was spotless. Kariss had once done an investigative report about several of Houston’s nursing homes, and she’d seen every caliber of staff and housing. In her opinion, Delores’s grandmother was receiving excellent care, which caused Kariss to wonder who paid for it.

  Kariss and Xavier greeted everyone in Spanish, and he asked permission to see Benita Martinez. They waited in the visitor sitting area while an attendant took a wheelchair to the woman’s room.

  The tiny woman with smooth, tanned skin and white hair smiled at Kariss and Xavier. “I wondered where you two had been. Did you bring the cookies?”

  Xavier took her hand. “I forgot them, Grandmother. I’ll remember cookies the next time. What flavor would you like?”

  “Lemon.” She sighed. “I was looking forward to them. Delores brought me chocolate ones yesterday.”

  Kariss peered into Xavier’s face. This mention of Mrs. Martinez’s granddaughter had to surprise him since last time she hadn’t remembered Delores.

  “That was nice of her.” Xavier patted her hand. “Did she visit very long?”

  “Not really. She had errands.”

  “Grandmother, I’d like for you to meet my friend Kariss.”

  Mrs. Martinez tilted her weathered face toward Kariss. “Why aren’t you dating a good Mexican girl? Aren’t they good enough for you?”

  Xavier continued to pat her hand. What a kind man. “She’s not a girlfriend. Just a friend.”

  Mrs. Martinez covered her mouth. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Will you remind Xavier to bring me cookies the next time you come to see me?”

  Good. She was coherent enough to recognize Xavier. “I will,” Kariss said. “Tell me about your granddaughter Delores.”

  “You don’t know her?”

  “No, ma’am. Just through Xavier. Did you say she brought you cookies yesterday?”

  Mrs. Martinez glanced away and then back to Kariss. The light in her eyes dulled. “She brought me a box of candy and stayed all afternoon.”

  “Did you eat all of them?” Kariss understood the woman’s disoriented mind, but truth could surface through the cobwebs.

  Benita laughed lightly, a sweet sound. “I bet you’d like one. The cherry creams are my favorite.”

  “Oh, I like chocolate all the way through. And yes, I’d love a piece.”

  Mrs. Martinez turned to Xavier. “Please be a nice boy and get the box of candy from my room. It’s in the drawer beside my bed.”

  Xavier excused himself to find an attendant.

  “Tell me about your granddaughter.” Kariss felt like she was taking advantage of the woman’s mental health, but solving a horrible crime meant seeking out information. Still, guilt crept through her. “How often does she come to see you?”

  Mrs. Martinez brightened. “She comes every day.”

  “Does she bring her children?”

  “Delores … I don’t think so. Someone keeps them for her.” The woman reached out for Kariss’s hand and gave her a light squeeze. “I told Anna that we couldn’t cook for all those people unless we had help. What were they thinking?”

  Kariss listened and commented when necessary as Mrs. Martinez touched on one subject and then another. The woman talked with childlike enthusiasm about a picnic along the river and then changed the discussion to a concern about money to pay the rent. Xavier returned carrying a bag of cookies. Chocolate. Could it be Delores had brought them?

  Xavier handed Mrs. Martinez the cookies. “The residents are not supposed to have food in their room, so we had to search. The bag was found in the back of a drawer. But I didn’t find any candy.”

  “Are they stale?” Kariss’s hope rose as she uttered her words.

  “Of course not.” Mrs. Martinez reached inside the bag.

  Xavier swallowed hard, visible emotion rising to the surface. “Soft and fresh. I want to believe Delores brought them.”

  “She did,” Mrs. Martinez said. “My granddaughter knows how to please this old woman. Would you like a cookie? I have plenty.”

  Xavier swiped a single tear. “No, thank you, Grandmother.”

  Kariss echoed his response while her thoughts raced with what they’d learned. Xavier’s frantic search could be near the end … finding out what really happened to little Benita.

  “I should watch the parking lot for the next few days to see if Delores stops by,” he said.

  Kariss stood and walked behind Mrs. Martinez. She placed her hands on the woman’s shoulders. “The FBI needs to have a couple of agents on site,” she whispered. “I’ll tell Tigo.” The same question bothering her earlier rose in her thoughts again. “Who pays the bill here?”

  Xavier sighed. “I have no idea.”

  “That’s important. If you’ll sit with Mrs. Martinez, I’ll find out.”

  “But you’ll be back?” the woman said.

  Sweet lady. “In a few minutes. Xavier is with you.” When this was over, she’d come back to visit her … and bring lemon cookies.

  Kariss walked to the director’s office and knocked on the open door. A short, middle-aged woman whirled around in her chair. “Excuse me,” Kariss said. “I’m here visiting Benita Martinez. Can you tell me who pays her bill?”

  “Why?”

  “We want to make sure she continues to receive excellent care. If the person responsible for her finances isn’t able, we want to help.”

  “I see.” The woman opened a file cabinet and leafed through the files. Pulling one out, she lay it on her desk. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a name. The bill is paid each month in cash. Sometimes a woman hands us an envelope with Mrs. Martinez’s name on it, and other times I find the envelope on my desk.”

  “How strange. Delores told us that she paid it during her visits.”

  The woman’s smile did not quite reach her eyes. “Oh, Delores does see her grandmother often. Such a kind woman.” She hesitated and glanced at the folder. “Delores does pay her grandmother’s bill. She asked me to keep her payments secret, but since you already know, there’s no reason for me to hide it. I’ve often wondered why Delores wouldn’t want others to know of her generosity.” The woman closed the file. “She seems like the type who would want her good deeds to remain a secret. She’s such a dear.”

  She’s a potential killer.

  “She was by yesterday. Brought us chocolates, and I’m afraid we ate them all.” She smiled and shook her head. “Our residents are not supposed to have food in their rooms, but I close my eyes when Delores brings her grandmother treats.”

  “I’ll be sure to keep your secret. What days does she visit?”

  “Never the same. Like an angel, she comes unannounced.”

  That thought curdled Kariss’s stomach. No murderer was an angel. “Does she bring her children to visit too?”

  “She’s always alone. I was unaware she had little ones.”

  More bad news for Xavier. Tigo needed to know about this immediately. “Thank you so much. Let me give you Xavier’s information in case Mrs. Martinez needs something.” She reached inside her purse and found Gilberto’s phone number
. After jotting down the information for the woman, she stepped outside into the parking lot.

  Tigo’s phone went straight to voice mail, which meant he was in a meeting or a tight situation. “This is Kariss. I have some information about Delores Olvera. Could be a good lead. Call me when you can.”

  She rubbed her arms to stop the chills in the ninety-five-plus-degree temperatures. Xavier’s persistence may have paid off. Her phone rang, and she snatched it from her purse.

  “What do you have?” Tigo said, his voice formal as though agitated.

  “We have a lead on Delores.” Kariss relayed the conversation with the nursing home director. “She was here yesterday.”

  “I’ll get agents stationed there immediately. We need to see the nursing home’s records too. Good job, Agent Walker. You might have to change your profession.”

  She laughed, releasing the stress of the day. “Xavier is the persistent one. I’m afraid the child he’s looking for doesn’t exist, but he refuses to give up.”

  “Sad, but realistic. Have you gone through newspaper archives yet?”

  “That’s on the schedule for tomorrow. If the search deadends, then there’s nothing else I can do. I’ll not be back to the office until afterward. Will you miss me?”

  “Do you really want to know?” He chuckled. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I feel better when you’re here. Which reminds me, your presence on the southeast side of town is not smart.”

  She glanced around at the peaceful surroundings. “Yes, sir. I admit I prefer to write about crimes than live them. The blood is pumping, and I’m having a hard time not thinking about being shot at.”

  “ ‘Caution is the beginning of wisdom.’ “

  Her father would have had another version of that from the Bible. “I’m taking Xavier back to his car, or rather Gilberto’s car, in a few minutes.”

  “Call me when you’re heading home.”

  How sweet. He did have a few admirable qualities about him. “Are you playing bodyguard?”

  “Somebody needs to. You have a knack for being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Unfortunately, he was right.

  CHAPTER 33

  After leaving the nursing home, Kariss drove Xavier back to McDonald’s. They needed to talk about what they’d learned, and she needed to tell him about her experience at Catholic Charities. But the information learned at the nursing home buffered the discouraging news.

  Teens still lingered outside the restaurant, and a few of them looked like they could be trouble. She pointed to a strip mall across the street. “We could talk there. I’ll drive through and get us something to drink.”

  After grabbing two iced teas and maneuvering the traffic, she parked the car and kept the engine running for the air-conditioning.

  “I’m ready to hear what you’ve found out,” Xavier said. “I didn’t ask when we left the nursing home, because you looked like you were thinking.” He laughed. “You are sometimes funny. So serious. Do you ever have fun?”

  She hadn’t considered entertainment lately. Xavier’s comment was unusual considering his plight. “I have five brothers and sisters. When we get together, we all have a good time.”

  “Gilberto and I have six brothers. Our poor mother said the rosary a lot. My father had a furniture store, and he insisted we have some education.”

  “I’m glad you have family. Are your other brothers in Mexico?”

  “Yes. Only Gilberto was wise enough to apply for entrance into the U.S. I’ve already completed my paperwork for the same. No matter how long it takes, this is where my little girl is buried.”

  He shrugged. “If I have another child, I’m not so sure I’d want to take him or her back with me. I know many of my people got here without following the law, and Delores and I did the same. But I want to do things the right way.”

  Kariss could only smile a response. She had no idea what it was like to live in Mexico or raise a family there. Media reported horrendous living conditions.

  “Dios has the answers,” he whispered.

  “By the look on your face, I see you have hope.” She’d once had that same faith. “I have a lead on Delores. The director at the nursing home said she has been paying her grandmother’s bill in cash. She also visits there frequently.”

  He smiled and nodded. “At last we have something to go on. Have you contacted your friends at the FBI?”

  “Tigo is sending agents to the nursing home now. The director will tell Delores about my questioning.”

  “Once we’re finished talking, I’m going to return Gilberto’s car and walk to the nursing home. I’ll stay close enough to watch the parking lot.”

  “No need to walk. I’ll drive you there. But you won’t have to stand vigil with the FBI sending agents there.”

  “I can’t wait at Gilberto’s and do nothing. What if she arrives and has the child? It’s too big of a risk.”

  “What will you do if you see her?”

  He stiffened. “You shouldn’t ask. My first thought would be the child. If Delores was alone …”

  Kariss nodded. The image of Benita’s autopsy picture flashed through her mind.

  “Did you ask the director if she brings a child?”

  “She didn’t even know Delores had children.”

  He glanced out the car window, his face a mass of battle scars. “You had something else to tell me.”

  “Catholic Charities can’t help us. Not enough information.”

  He looked at her. A muscle twitched below his right eye.

  “Remember my friend, the man who grew up near me in Mexico and lived in Pine Grove Apartments?”

  “The man who’d been to jail?”

  “Yes. He claims he can help me find Delores.”

  “Xavier, we talked about him before. He could get you into trouble. Today gives us a better lead.”

  “I’m a smart man, Kariss. I know some very bad men in Mexico. Cartels that do terrible things to people. I’ve lived among killers for a long time, and I know how to be safe.”

  “Just be careful. We learned more about Delores today, and the FBI is moving in to apprehend her. What if your involvement with a criminal ruined your chance at citizenship?”

  “Sometimes I think I could meet my own death easier than learning Delores killed this child too. I want something to live for.”

  His last statement brought back her longing to see Xavier’s effort reap him happiness. “Would you give me your friend’s name so Agent Harris can check him out?”

  “What would that prove? If he’s wanted, then I lose my source of information.”

  “Just think about it. See if it makes sense to you. This man—” Someone banged on her car door. She whirled around. A Hispanic man pressed a gun to the window, a man she’d never seen before.

  “Get out of the car,” he said in English.

  She looked into his face, memorizing every hardened feature.

  “I said, get out. Just you. Turn the car off.”

  “What did he say?” The sound of Xavier’s voice shook Kariss to her senses.

  “He said for me to get out of the car.” She reached for the door handle, fearful he’d pull the trigger and shoot both of them if she didn’t.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No.” The door opened. “His business is with me.”

  Kariss never took her eyes off the shooter’s face. She exited the car into the heat, and the man stepped back. “What do you want?”

  “I think you already know.”

  He didn’t have gang markings, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t one of those who wanted her dead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He aimed his gun at her chest.

  Think, Kariss. Do something.

  A siren filled the air, snapping the shooter’s attention and giving her enough time to slam her palm into his wrist. He dropped the gun and it fired, creasing her left shoulder with what felt like a mosquito bite.
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  The man cursed, and the siren sounded closer. She kicked his gun, and he took off running. A police car raced into the shopping strip, sirens blaring, and stopped in front of her car. One police officer took off after the shooter on foot, while the driver hurried to her side. Kariss watched the shooter race across the street and jump into a car near the McDonald’s before speeding away.

  Only when the first police officer backtracked to her side did she notice her ragged breathing and the stinging in her shoulder. Xavier had removed his shirt and dabbed at her shoulder. Odd, she hadn’t noticed him get out of the car.

  “Ma’am, are you all right?” a young police officer said.

  She blinked. He’d asked the same question three times. She reached to touch her shoulder and saw the blood on her fingers. “I might need a doctor.” Xavier handed her his shirt for her to press against her shoulder.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ve called 9-1-1. An ambulance will be here shortly. Do you know who assaulted you?”

  “I have no idea.” But she could guess.

  “Can you describe him?”

  “My mind’s hazy.” She’d give the shooter’s description to Tigo and him only.

  “What about the gentleman beside you?”

  “He doesn’t speak English.”

  “My partner speaks Spanish.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t see the man.”

  The police officer studied her. Doubt crested his eyes, then he glanced at her Prius. “Looks like a carjacking. You were lucky. Quick thinking.”

  “Yes … I suppose I am.”

  “You must have taken a self-defense course.”

  She nodded. “Never thought I’d use it.”

  “It saved your life.”

  Her shoulder throbbed. “How did you get here so quickly?”

  “We’d just finished responding to a call at Fiesta’s when we saw the crime in progress.”

  She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Did you say you called an ambulance?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “No thanks. I’ll drive myself.” Her last experience at a hospital nearly got her killed.

  “That’s not advisable. You could be in shock.” He looked at Xavier. “Can your friend drive you?”

 

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