by Peg Brantley
“Without your bravery today, we probably won’t be able to locate the child in time.”
“You’re purty good with people, ain’t ya?”
Mex met the old man’s eyes. “Some people, some days.”
“Well I must be one of them people and this must be one of them days.” Allain looked at Darius. “Spread those photos and maps back out here, young fella. Let’s get to work.”
The restaurant wasn’t as packed as it was earlier, but Cade had the impression that it wouldn’t matter. Paul Allain had his table here for as long as he wanted his table.
“Henri remembered a Cuban family who lived in the Honey when he wasn’t much bigger than a zirondelle.”
Cade touched the old man's hand. “Please, either translate for my friends quickly, or refrain from using the words of our people. We have too much ground to cover.”
She turned to Mex and Darius. “A zirondelle is a dragonfly. So we can infer that Henri was just a little kid.”
Darius grinned. “A little bugger.”
Cade watched as Mex’s neck and jaw clenched in unison. He squeezed out some words. “Do the names fit? The timeline?”
Allain shrugged his shoulders. “It’s what we have. My gut says this is all good.”
Cade had run on less. “Good. Let’s put it together.”
* * Two hours later, they’d pinpointed two homestead possibilities. Cade felt the odds falling in their favor. With a couple of big caveats. One was that most Santeria groups just wanted to practice their brand of religion. They weren’t prone to violence or counter-measures unless they felt like they were on the receiving end of negative attention. Then things had been known to get ugly. The people involved in this particular group knew Mex and company were after them. They’d be on alert.
More worrisome was the cartel connection. This was easily the biggest threat. Cartel members didn’t think twice about killing anyone they didn’t like. The kill du jour. Might be because you were the competition, might be because you had the wrong color of eyes. Kill scores had stopped being counted years ago. Who they killed didn’t matter. What mattered was that they were still
walking around.
Allain rubbed his temples. “You’ve checked out topographical maps, current landmarks and access routes. You’ve made a plan.”
Cade noticed that Paul Allain’s Cajun lingo was gone. She wondered about his background.
“What happens if you’re wrong? What’s your backup?”
Mex swallowed the last of his coffee and set the empty cup down with a smack. “There is no backup.”
* * * They were back at the hotel in New Orleans. The detritus of hours of consideration and debate and anxious snacking littered the room. Cade picked up an empty lemonade can and threw it in the trash. Anxiety battled fatigue.
Mex rolled his shoulders. He wanted to move now but he knew better. “We need to pick one. We can’t afford to split up and we can’t afford to be wrong. Any whiff of our presence and we could lose them for good.” He looked at Cade and Darius. “Which location do you think is the most likely?”
Cade pointed a finger at a place on the map. “This one.”
“Why?”
“According to what Darius pulled up from St. Tammany Parish records, it’s been recently updated. No telling what condition the other property is in.”
“Darius? What’s your opinion?”
“Cade makes sense, but
respectfully, I’m not ready to give up on the other and commit our resources because a house has a new bathroom.”
“Okay,” Mex pointed to their other option, a little farther north. “What I like about this one is that it’s even more remote, if that’s possible. A better place to hide and keep your ceremonial tendencies private.”
Cade nodded. “I agree, but is a spoiled little rich girl willingly going to stay someplace rustic?”
Mex popped half a handful of almonds in his mouth. “First, from our interviews in Monterrey, Dia was ready to strike out on her own regardless of surroundings. All she wanted was to get away from her father. And second, the willing part might have been over within hours of their leaving Monterrey.”
Cade stood and paced to the window. “I disagree. Based on my experience, it’s in the best interest of her ‘captors’ to keep her feeling like part of the team. She’ll remain happily engaged in all the events surrounding her until the very last minute.”
Darius sat his stack of papers on the table and reached for his drink. “You’re right about Dia wanting to get away from Papa. The princess might be spoiled but she felt like a prisoner. My bet is she was more than happy to go rustic if she was with people who she thought appreciated her and would not try to control her.”
Cade felt the sun on her face as she looked out the hotel room window, but what she saw was a one-room shack in the bowels of the swamp. She felt rather than saw the pulsating movement of water just beyond her vision, moss hanging long and low from the trees filtering sunlight. Ahead of her, the long wooden walk, boards both bleached by the sun and slippery from the swamp, reached to the empty silence that filled the air. Inside the doors of the cabin, deep blue in the shadows, was the body of her sister. She’d known it even before she experienced it.
She turned into the room and worked to hide the picture in her mind. Push the feeling of loss from your chest, Cade. This wasn’t the time. Mex was right. The most remote stilt house was the one they wanted. If Dia was being held here, it would be in the home buried the deepest in Honey Island Swamp. If she was already there, it was only a matter of time before they lost her.
Lost her to what?
Usually Cade dealt with loss in terms of abandonment. People who left behind their families, their lives, to live in a fabricated and delusional world, making a choice to follow the false god of the moment. Cade had scored an astounding success rate, but whenever she lost someone, she suffered
heartbreaking devastation. Failure. Her sister all over again.
With the young missing girl, Cade knew the loss would not be a choice on Dia’s part. The child’s loss would mean her life. Final. If they didn’t get there in time, her religious beliefs and choices wouldn’t matter. Because the daughter of Vicente Vega would be dead.
“You’ve convinced me,” she said to Mex. “We go to the remote house.” And pray that’s where she is, Cade thought.
The trio sat late into the night talking strategy. The following night they’d make their play.
More than one life depended on them being right.
And successful in their rescue.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Loud noises caused Sedona to prop herself up onto her elbows in bed. The word ‘keening’ came into her head. Keening? Really?
She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she’d been doing that more and more often lately. Stress? Boredom? Drugs? Hard to say. What she knew now was that people were shouting and… keening. What was going on?
Her captors had secured her ankles to the bed frame with just enough room to sit up with her wrist ties. She was a good six inches short from being able to reach her ankle restraints. They’d done this before.
The shouting continued for a few seconds more, then silence. The
keening… had someone died? Was it Dia? If Dia was dead so was she. But maybe it was something else. Was the house on fire? Would they forget her?
“What’s going on?” Sedona shouted. “Hello? Someone come to me!”
No one came. Sedona continued to scream. Maybe someone outside would hear her. Come to her rescue. Carry her out of this hellhole.
After a while she fell silent. Matching the soundless house. She closed her eyes, laid back down and willed herself to another place. She imagined her family in Mexico, going about an ordinary day doing the things that needed done, from household chores to hide-and-seek. Sedona saw them all, breathing and living and moving, as if she’d just seen them that morning.
But it had been six years.
The circle was closing.
The silence pulled her out of her own thoughts. What was happening? She concentrated to hear any sound within the house. Nothing. She was alone.
Sedona tried to comfort herself. She’d been alone before. This was no different. Right?
The shouting and wailing she’d heard earlier could be for any number of reasons. VV’s staff probably all had families. Things happened to families. She knew this better than almost anyone. Someone had suffered a loss and was expressing pain. Didn’t mean it impacted her.
Clearly it wasn’t a fire. Or a crime where law enforcement had been called.
Silence filled her ears.
A whimper escaped, surprising her. She restrained her emotions and waited. It would do no good to be found weak.
What had happened? Where had everyone gone? She knew, beyond any doubt, that she was alone in VV’s Monterrey home.
In all the hours and days since she’d been abducted, Sedona had never been entirely by herself. There’d always been someone to monitor her. Someone to feed her. Someone to wait while she showered or peed.
Someone.
Goosebumps crawled up her legs, crawled up her arms. Warnings.
Something had happened. Something bad. She struggled against the bindings knowing it wouldn’t do any good.
Sedona had no choice but to sit on her bed and hold her bladder. She sat and watched the light fade and the scents of Monterrey shift from day into night. From heat and exhaust to the fancy chorizo and milanesa nuevo chefs developed to entice diners into their restaurants.
Oh God, she wanted to be out there. On the street. Discovering the neighborhood. Well really,
rediscovering the neighborhood.
Sedona had been truly alive only once in her life—on the streets of Monterrey—where the electricity of the city flowed through her. She’d been full of passion. Belonging. Full of promise.
The last several years felt like a penance. A punishment for every bad decision she’d ever made. Payback for the joy she’d experienced in Monterrey. She didn’t think she had any tears left, but a drop fell onto her lap and
disappeared.
Time passed. How much time she couldn’t say but the light was fading in her room. She heard the key in the lock.
The housekeeper hurried into the room.
“Thank goodness! I need to use the bathroom right away.”
Then she saw the knife.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Sedona’s eyes never left the blade. The hair on the back of her neck lifted and she bit back a scream. She focused on not peeing and not screaming and not showing fear.
The housekeeper moved toward her and spun around once with the knife in her hands. Then she sat it down on the dresser. “I brought a knife in case I was unable to quickly untie you.” The woman bent toward Sedona’s bonds and went to work.
“What has happened?” Sedona’s pulse was racing. If the danger wasn’t from the housekeeper, it was from someone else.
“You must leave quickly. Get away from this house. Mr. VV is dead.”
The final tie undone, Sedona raced to the bathroom.
VV dead? Dead? The little boy she’d watched for so many hours was gone. Murdered? The housekeeper hadn’t said but knowing his line of work it wouldn’t surprise her.
She flushed the toilet and washed her face and hands.
“How did he die?” Sedona asked as she walked back into the room. She was alone.
And the door stood open.
Senses heightened, Sedona stood in the doorway and listened. Only the silence of the empty house met her. She stepped into the hall, listening and watching for any movement. Sedona kept her back against the wall as she moved to the staircase and slipped down the steps as quietly and quickly as she could.
The front door was closed. Was this where she’d be found out and returned to her room?
A flash of movement shot cold air through her body, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She tightened her body to the wall and waited, not daring to breathe, trying to silence the incredible volume of her heart. Her fingers moved along the wall behind her as if they contained some weird form of radar. An ability to sense another presence through
vibrations.
Nothing. Maybe.
Sedona exhaled slowly and edged to the corner of the wall where she’d seen the motion. She couldn’t bring herself to stick her head around the corner enough to see. Damn. Where was her courage?
A moment later she saw a
reflection in a glass cabinet in the entryway and immediately relaxed. Sheers billowed with the breeze coming through the windows. She almost laughed out loud. There was her threat. The big bad window coverings.
Almost giddy with relief, Sedona reached for the doorknob.
It turned under her hand.
While her heart had been belting out of her chest a minute ago she swore it now stopped cold. Her immediate other thought, however inappropriate, was relief she’d emptied her bladder.
Could she back away and hide somewhere? Her feet were planted. No amount of brain screams in her
remaining seconds of life would change anything.
Her eyes widened as the door pushed open. She prepared herself to be shot. To finally end this intense event in her life. It would be over. No more fear. No more guilt.
It was impossible to tell who was more shocked. She, waiting for the bullet that never came, or Vicente Vega who’d unlocked the door to his dead son’s home only to find a woman from his past.
She reached for the door to steady herself but her hand slipped. Before she fell to the floor, she felt Vicente’s strong arms grab her and stop her fall.
* * When Sedona once again became aware of her surroundings, she was lying on a sofa. Soft light filtered into the room. Two accent lamps shed golden light onto highly polished tables. The tiered ceiling added volume to the cozy space.
She tested for restraints. There were none. Not willing to believe she was completely out of danger, Sedona shifted to get a better look at her
surroundings.
“You are awake.”
Sedona froze. Vicente Vega. “You were only out for a couple
of minutes. How do you feel?” She nodded, unable to find her voice.
“Good. I’ve brought a member of my staff and have asked for some tea. It might take a few minutes though because he is unfamiliar with my son’s kitchen.”
Tea? All she wanted was to get out of here. To catch the first flight back to Aspen Falls. She forced herself to a sitting position and fought a wave of dizziness. When it passed she felt better. More in control.
Sedona began to rise. “I need to leave.”
“Please. Not yet. I have some questions.”
Sedona understood that the please was merely Vega’s polite way of saying she wasn’t going anywhere until he told her she could. She settled back onto the sofa and waited.
“Why are you here? Why are you in my son’s home?”
* * * The next morning Dia woke up early. The sun pushed through a hazy sky heating up the already hot day. Even though the stilt house was filled to the gills with people it was strangely quiet. Must be the muggy weight of the air.
She pulled on her shorts and her favorite sleeveless t-shirt and went in search of something to eat. She didn’t want much but the reason she’d woken up was a growling stomach.
The quiet felt weird. Where is everyone? Dia opened the refrigerator and drew out some milk, then went to find some cereal. She was grabbing a bowl out of the cupboard when Pilar walked in.
“Good morning, Dia. I’d be happy to make you breakfast. Would you like pancakes?”
Dia smiled. Pilar knew pancakes were her favorite. “It’s too hot for pancakes, but thanks. Hey, where is everybody?”
“Luis and Hector have taken our guests
on a tour of the swamp.”
“Darn! I want to go.” Dia pouted.
“You wouldn’t want to go on this trip. It’s more business than pleasure. They were looking for some special things you would find boring.”
“Maybe they’ll see the monster. Wouldn’t that be cool? Did they take a camera?”
Pilar shook her head. “I told you, it’s more like a trip to the grocery store than an amusement park.”
“How long are the guests going to be here?” Dia didn’t much care for either of them, especially the man.
“Not long.”
Pilar pulled some flour and sugar down from the cupboard onto the counter.
“What are you making?”
“Sweet bread.”
Dia remembered Pilar making that for her when they were still in her father’s house in Monterrey. It was wonderful.
Pilar took some eggs out of the refrigerator. “While I put this together, I want you to go and take a long,
wonderful bath. I’ve put out some of my special scents for you. I think you’ll love them. Then, after I’ve baked the bread, you and I are going shopping. You need a special dress for tonight.”
The bath didn’t excite her as much as the idea of the two of them shopping together. She didn’t care about the new dress. Well, not much. But the idea of hanging out with Pilar like girlfriends or sisters made her happier than she’d felt in a long time.
“What’s tonight?”
“If Luis can find what is required we will have that special ceremony you’ve been waiting for.”
Dia was excited. But she’d been thinking about her brother. “Pilar, could I use your phone?”
Pilar’s back stiffened. “What for?”
“I just kinda want to call VV. Let him know I’m fine. I sort of miss him.”
“Tomorrow, Dia. You can call your brother tomorrow. I promise.”
