“Because we know what his plan is for them. When, and where. If he has to start from scratch, so do we.”
Jan nodded. “Hate to say it, but it makes sense. We’ll be all over his every move.”
“If someone will follow me, I’ll take the truck back and drop it off,” Topaz said.
I shook my head. “No way, girl. If by some chance you didn’t get out in time, he’d probably shoot you on sight, what with you leaving his men full of holes and his hostages missing.”
Roger held up his hands. “Here’s the way I see it. Drew returns, finds the place in ruins, but there’s the truck, still sitting there. He’ll just have to do everything himself since he doesn’t have any help, and it’ll slow him down some.”
“Or,” I said, “he brings in a new crew of thugs. We sure as hell don’t want that.”
“Señora, I will return the truck and help him load the birds.”
We all turned to see Eli, the truck driver, who we thought to be asleep, standing at the foot of the stairs.
I shook my head. “No, Don Eli, it is too dangerous. He might blame you.”
Topaz and the old man exchanged a look. “We left no witnesses,” she said.
What the hell; the ‘no witnesses’ thing, in this case, worked fine for me.
Roger scanned the room for comments, and when none were offered, he said, “Okay, then. Way I see it, if Don Eli is willin’ to go back, he can ‘discover’ the crime scene and wait for Drew.”
“Where was Don Eli when the so-called crime occurred? He better have a danged good story?”
“Good point, Hetta.”
Eli took off his sombrero and pointed to the top of his head, and the bloody slash there. “I was grazed by a bullet that came from nowhere, and never saw what happened until I woke up. I was shocked by the carnage, but waited for the boss to return. After all, the birds do need someone to care for them.”
“Okay then,” Roger said. ‘My bet is the lowlife will most likely cut his losses and start loading birds for tomorrow’s drop at the ship. Or Eli could open the cage and just let them go, but Craig vetoed that.”
Craig, who hadn’t said much, nodded. “It would kill most of them. They’re from down south, and without the cover afforded by the cage and tarps, they’ll die.”
Topaz agreed. “That’s why I didn’t leave the cage open. They have enough food and water for at least a day or so. They’re fine for now. Where do you figure the boat intends to take them?”
“My guess?” Roger said. “Northern Sonora, off-load the cages to some beach and move them to another hiding place of some sort. And from there cross the border with drug mules, or whatever works to get ‘em into the States. There are news stories every day about lion and tiger cubs, and birds of all sorts, being found at border crossings. Heaven knows how many get through.”
“Then we gotta be on those birds like Hetta on a carrot cake,” Jan said.
I shot her a middle digit. “Sonora is just covered with ranches and farms. There must be thousands of places to stash contraband. And the smuggling routes are already well established by cartels, and secured by gangs.”
Roger nodded. “That corridor is busier than an LA freeway at rush hour. But we’ll track them carefully, one way or another. With that in mind, everyone think about it and we’ll talk tomorrow. Let’s get Don Eli on the road, and then I’m going to bed.”
“Will you be okay to travel tonight? You are not too tired?” I asked the old man.
“No problem, señorita. I slept most of the morning until señorita Topaz began shooting everyone. She is my kind of woman.”
Chapter Twenty-five
WHILE THE OLD man gathered his bedroll, I packed him a sack of leftover carnitas, beans and tortillas, and stuck in a roll of two hundred peso notes. Also, I didn’t want him to leave without knowing more about him. Was he brave, or did he have other motives in mind?
As we walked out to the truck, I asked, “Did you grow up in the States? Your English is excellent.”
“Yes. My parents walked across the border back when you could do that easily, and I was born a year later. They worked the fields in the Imperial Valley, and so did I when I was old enough.” He grinned, “Meaning five or six, in those days.”
“And now you live in Mexico?”
“Cheaper here. My social security goes a lot farther.”
“You’re collecting Social Security?”
He laughed. “You think I’m not old enough, or not qualified?”
That flustered me. Anything I said would sound judgmental, so—uncharacteristically—I clammed up.
“Sorry, I was teasing you. I received my green card because of the Reagan amnesty. I had no birth certificate. I was born in a shack in the fields, and never went to a real school. My mother taught me at night, after work. When I found jobs as an adult, I paid into a false Social Security account for years, so I was finally given credit for the money I paid, and then, twenty years and many lawyers later, I became a legal American citizen.”
“And moved to Mexico. You have dual citizenship?”
“Yes. Here I can live comfortably, and even make extra money.”
“Let me guess. This is your truck.”
“Yes. I was hired to haul a load of fruit to Rancho Los Pajaros.”
“And the girls?”
He bowed his head and said, very quietly, “On my mother’s honor, I did not know they were in the truck. And there were always birds around, I thought they were being rescued. Until the pendejos showed up.”
“I figured that. You looked shocked when you saw the children.”
“You were watching?”
Not willing to give up all my spying secrets, I said, “Yes, and I told Jan we could probably rely on you because of the way you treated the girls and frowned at the punks.”
“They are vermin. I stayed because I was so concerned about the birds, and then this small woman and a dog were captured. I had to stay.”
“Did you, by any chance, see my friends, Humberto and Anna?”
“I have known them for a long time, and Drew told me they went to live with their children in La Paz. I was happy for them. They love spending time with the grandchildren.”
And you believed him? I wanted to ask but didn’t. Why upset him now?
“I have grandchildren, as well,” he continued. “I could not leave those niñas to their fate. Even though Drew warned his men to leave the girls alone, I did not trust them. I have granddaughters their age. Babies! Miss Topaz has been talking to them. They trust her. One of them is just turned thirteen. The oldest is seventeen. Someone is missing them.”
“Then you joined the right team. We’ll make sure they’re safe, and with any luck, put the likes of Drew out of business.”
“God willing, señora.”
“Please, call me Hetta, or Café. And by the way, it is señorita.”
He brightened. “Really? I have this son…just kidding again.”
“Hasta luego. Que le vaya bien,” I told him, as he climbed into his truck after we gave it a good going over to make sure there was no evidence against him for Drew to find.
Heroes come in different forms.
I slept like I’d had a shot of morphine. I don’t think I moved all night, or what was left of it, when I finally crashed. By the time I stumbled downstairs, it was eight o’clock and Jan was whipping up breakfast for the girls while they watched cartoons on American cable TV. I guess the Disney language is universal, for they were giggling.
Roger, Craig, and Topaz were nowhere to be seen.
“About time, your laziness,” Jan quipped. “Coffee’s brewed. You want pancakes?”
“You’re offering me devil food?”
“You’ve earned it just this once. So, want some?”
“Naw, just coffee, and lots of it. Where’s the rest of the team?”
“Scouting. They couldn’t resist going in to town to watch Drew’s reaction when he found all his tires flat thi
s morning. They should be back shortly, and we’ll formalize a game plan. Have you thought about one?”
“Not unless I dreamed it. I did have a nice talk with Eli last night before he left. He’s not at all what I first thought of him. I just hope he doesn’t get harmed in any way for his heroism.”
Jan smartly flipped a hotcake. “Topaz gave him a gold star, as well. It’s amazing the people you meet down here. It’s so easy to pigeonhole them, and then you get a grand surprise. Like, who knew Meghan Markle’s father lives in Rosarita?”
“Hell, I didn’t even know who Meghan Markle was until she snagged Prince Harry.” I moved my nose closer to the cooktop. “Okay, just one pancake.”
She started plating and called the girls to come and get it. They quickly returned to the television. I shook away the image of what might have become of them. I’d seen the boney, hollow-eyed young women in Cannes. Oh, wait, those were models.
Jan sat with me while I crammed pancakes into my mouth. They were perfectly cooked, light and fluffy. “You think Eli will be safe with Drew? Guy’s a loose cannon. Shooting and roughing up half your team ain’t what I’d call good people skills.”
“Ha! There’s the pot calling the kettle black. You, of all people, should be able to relate, Miz Hetta.”
“Oh, hush. Roger’s background check on mule dude unearthed some drug and anger management issues. I wouldn’t want to be there when he discovers all his guys tits-up, and the girls long gone.”
“No, but it might be worth the climb to our bivouac to watch.”
“Are you serious?”
“Hell, no!”
Topaz and the girls left for La Paz a little before noon in a van Roger rented.
Jan and I, in my pickup, followed. We left Jan’s Jeep with Roger and Craig.
Luckily, in the Baja, it wasn’t abnormal to see way more people than the law allowed crammed into small vans, so schoolgirls packed in like sardines for a field trip wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.
“You think she’ll have any trouble at the military stops?” I asked Jan. “What if they want the girls’ IDs or something?”
“I doubt it. If Topaz tells the army guys, if they even stop her, that she’s taking the girls to the orphanage in La Paz, they won’t think it’s anything unusual. She’s schooled the girls to giggle and sing when approaching an installation. Besides, going south, they rarely even look at anyone.”
“Everyone knows it’s not a real orphanage, anyhow. Just kids who live there because there are no high schools nearby, and they stay there during the school year.”
“But,” I said, “there’s a high school in Loreto.”
“Most of these guys at the check points are from the mainland. Chances are they won’t know or care about that. Just in case, though, Topaz is ready for them with a spiel about there not being a Catholic high school in Loreto.”
“I thought I saw one.”
“Jeez, Hetta. Would you try and think positive here?”
“Okay, okay. You know I’m a worrywart. Now that we have time to discuss the subject seriously, just what the heck are we going to do with those kids? It’s fine for them to crash at Rhonda’s condo for a day or two, but then we have to find someone to take them in until they can contact their families.”
“We’ll stick Topaz with the girls, and we’ll deal with Drew. We’ll want to beat feet back to the B team as soon as possible.”
The checkpoints, as we hoped, were no problemo. The Mexican military are looking for guns and drugs, and the occasional cold Coke on a hot day. I also carry packages of cookies and candy, but never pass them out until I’ve been waved through. Heaven forbid it look like I’m trying to perpetrate a bribe. Most of the soldiers are teenaged grunts from southern Mexico, and their service is mandatory. They are paid almost nothing, and any treats are very welcome.
We went straight to Rhonda’s condo in La Paz to get the girls and Topaz settled in. If they’d had pajamas, it would look like a giant sleepover. The girls were used to bedding down on dirt floors, so carpeting would be a luxury.
I opened the door to the condo with the girls, Topaz, and Jan right on my heels. When I stepped into the darkened interior, I stopped in my tracks. From my left, I heard the distinctive sound of a round being chambered. Stepping back, I knocked my girl scout troop into the hallway.
Hitting the deck, I drew my .380 and rolled, aiming in the direction of the noise, and yelled, “Freeze, Pendejo!”
And that’s how I ended up in a Mexican standoff with a very large and dangerous looking man.
“Hetta? I thought you were in Loreto.” Cholo stood and peered around me, trying to see into the hallway. “What is all that noise?”
“Screaming teenagers, and if you don’t drop that big honking gun I’m going to turn them loose on you.”
Cholo grinned, showing off perfect white teeth against his dark skin. He gently laid down his Springfield XDM, overacting as he did his best to look frightened. Clasping his hands on his head, he continued to grin. “I surrender! Teenagers, they terrify me. However, Hetta, that weapon of yours? What is it? A Chihuahua 5000? With a bark worse than its bite?
I was tempted to shoot him smack dab in his own Chihuahua for making fun of my gun.
Chapter Twenty-six
ABOUT CHOLO: Jan, Rhonda, and I met him in Cannes, aboard a large yacht we were staying on.
The reason why we were there is a little convoluted, but let’s just say we were already in France, a young Mexican girl had vanished, and we were involved in the team commissioned to find her at the request of her grandfather. During our time on board, Cholo and Rhonda got chummy. The next thing we know they were an item in La Paz.
And he was just the dude we needed to help us with the situation we found ourselves embroiled in, despite his dissing my gun.
If the teens were fascinated with Craig, Cholo—with his dark, stern face, thick, black, military cut hair, and resemblance to a handsome, stone-faced, Mayan version of the Incredible Hulk—sent them over the moon. He was a compadre of Nacho’s, who is mine and Jan’s mystery Mexican. We think. Like Cholo, we have no idea who Nacho is, or who he works for.
The tittering, giggling, and eye-cuts at Cholo soon tried our patience, and Topaz banished our teenyboppers to the master bedroom, loaded up with huge bags of potato chips and cokes. She showed them how to use the remote on Rhonda’s sixty-inch TV and left them to it. We thought they would enjoy all the Spanish language channels, but from the sounds of it, they soon found English language cartoons.
We mixed adult beverages from Rhonda’s bar and sat down to get caught up on who knew what.
“Rhonda’s message said you were trying to save some endangered birds, and that someone was holding your friend and dog hostage along with the birds, and some girls. So, I see you have the girls.”
“That was me, Cholo. Po Thang and I escaped with the young ladies. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Topaz told him.
“And I have heard almost nothing about you.”
“She’s a — ”
Topaz cut me off. “A good friend from Arizona. I thought I was coming to Mexico for a vacation. Some vacation!” She gave me a meaningful look from under those poufy bangs of hers. Meaning, Shut the hell up. I don’t want this guy to know I’m a cop.
Cholo tilted his head. “And yet you managed to escape, all on your own?”
“Oh, no. There was this nice old man who let us go. We just sneaked out and Hetta found us.”
He smiled. His eyes didn’t. “So you say. But, that is done. What is the present situation, other than we have a bedroom full of giggling little girls?”
Po Thang had sidled over, rested his chin on Cholo’s large thigh, and was giving him adoring looks. But then again, the big man had a potato chip bag in his hand. He gave one to my dog, who eagerly waited for another. “No,” he said, “no more. They are not healthy for you.” Po Thang groaned and lay down.
Why does my dog obey everyone but me?
&
nbsp; Jan was giving Cholo a blow-by-blow rundown of what happened at Rancho Los Pajaros, albeit an edited one that didn’t include Topaz shooting her way out with my Chihuahua 5000 and a couple of commandeered assault rifles.
“So, now the boat waits at Puerto Escondido and your friends are watching it?” he asked.
“Yes. They think it will take at least three days to load the birds, then the boat will deliver them to the mainland. Probably Sonora.”
“But this mule person. His operation has now been compromised.”
I shrugged. “We figure he’ll cut his losses and go with the bird plan already in place.”
“And what do you want to do about it?”
Jan indignantly huffed, “Obviously we want to save the birds. And then remove his huevos.”
Cholo grinned. “And how do you plan to execute this operation?”
“Honestly,” I said. “We haven’t exactly figured that one out. But if they offload the birds on a Sonoran beach, they must have a place to put them until they can be smuggled into the US, right?”
“You are making a lot of assumptions. How did you reach the conclusion that the birds will be taken to Sonora?”
“The boat is from Sonora. There are miles of deserted beaches up north, and the state is pretty much agricultural. It’s a perfect place to hide a bunch of birds.”
“Name of the boat?” Cholo was beginning to sound like a television cop.
“Doña Esperanza, home port is Guaymas”
He nodded and pulled out his cellphone. “I must make a phone call. Would you pick up some food from downstairs?”
“They deliver,” I said.
“I do not wish any strangers at the door.”
“Gee, I have this great idea,” Jan snipped. “Why don’t I pick up some food from downstairs?” She simpered and asked Cholo, “You want some fries with that, Sweetcakes?”
He shook his head and sighed. “Gringas!”
Just for the Birds Page 14
