“So it is with great pleasure,” Fisk said, “to announce that President Merrick will be endorsing Francisco Rodriguez for President of the great nation of Mexico.”
Rodriguez’s mouth hung open. “What did he say?” Rodriguez asked.
On the screen now was footage of Fisk’s recent visit with Rodriguez, sitting next to him with his arm around Rodriguez, laughing and smiling. Rodriguez would dip his head close to Fisk’s ear because of all the noise in the room, making it seem as if he was talking secretively. He suddenly remembered Fisk constantly speaking soft to Rodriguez. Too soft at times.
“No, no!” Rodriguez shouted. He stood up and found everyone in the room staring at him. “What are you looking at? He is lying.”
Fisk was now giving details of the subversive plot Rodriguez had devised to infiltrate the Zutons’ followers and gain the confidence of their lesser known gunmen.
Rodriguez felt his pulse pounding in his head, while his chest convulsed erratically.
“No, this is all a big conspiracy!” Rodriguez called out, throwing his glass of whisky at the TV and shattering the flat panel screen.
His security team observed him like a zoo animal, not knowing what to believe.
Rodriguez had to think fast. With each passing moment, Fisk was offering more evidence of his imaginary scheme.
He pointed his finger at his lead security agent. “Go get the car and bring it around back.”
The man hesitated, uncertainty on his face.
“Now!” Rodriguez yelled.
The man exited the room, leaving an awkward void behind.
The remaining occupants simply stared at Rodriguez with a trace of pity in their eyes.
Chapter 30
Nick and Matt watched the Diamondbacks play the Dodgers from Nick’s couch; they rested their stocking feet on the coffee table and sipped beers, while Tommy and Julie played with Thomas on the floor in front of them.
Thomas anxiously crawled to Tommy with a big toothless smile and drool glossing up his lips. Julie looked on with a mother’s joyful expression as her son reached for Tommy.
“He loves you,” Matt said.
“He knows good people when he sees them,” Tommy cracked, a bandage still covering his chin and forehead to protect the stitches.
The Diamondbacks’ new second baseman lined a double to right field and scored two base runners. Thomas briefly turned his head as the crowd cheered through the TV.
Nick took a drink of his beer, then raised his bottle to receive a clink from Matt’s bottle. The two partners were taking some down time together, Nick trying to keep an eye on Matt to make sure he recovered from the loss of Jennifer Steele.
“You know,” Matt said, quietly, “she was the only woman I ever said, ‘I love you,’ to.”
Nick had been reading up on how to deal with the death of a loved one. He knew Matt wasn’t going to get professional help, so he needed to administer some of his own.
“She was special. No doubt,” Nick said. He let it hang there for a while. If it were a month from now, Nick would’ve added, “But you’re not even forty yet.” However, it was too soon for his partner to be thinking of the future. He needed to grieve and Nick was going to be there for him every step of the way.
“You want another beer?” Nick asked, getting up.
“Sure,” Matt said.
Tommy was racing in circles now with Thomas cradled in his arms, squealing with delight.
As Nick reached the refrigerator, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. When he saw the name, he walked out the back door and pushed the on button.
“Hey, Walt,” Nick said.
“They found Rodriguez’s body in the middle of a busy street. He was naked and missing a few limbs.”
Nick shook his head in amazement. “Wow. How long did it take for the Zutons to get to him-four hours?”
“If that long.”
“Are they going to delay the election?” Nick asked.
“They’re not changing a thing.” Walt said. “By the way, Ken seems to think there’s a large amount of money missing from Garza’s compound. He says the UPF paid Garza five million dollars to move the bomb. You know anything about that?”
Nick looked over his shoulder at the house where Thomas had just screamed out a cry of laughter. He was so glad to be able to hear his son and know he was safe and in the arms of his cousin.
“Yeah,” Nick said. “I just spent three million of it on diapers and formula.”
“That’s not what I was saying,” Walt said, sounding disappointed. “I just thought you might’ve had a hunch.”
“My hunch,” Nick said, “is that Garza probably buried it out in the desert somewhere.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Walt said. Then his tone changed. “How is Matt?”
Nick saw some movement in the darkness of the woods behind the house, his investigative nature taking over, his heart rate increasing. “He needs some time,” Nick said. “He’ll be staying with us for a while.”
“Sure,” Walt said.
“How about Julio?”
“Marco is adopting him,” Walt said. “Apparently Garza really loves that kid and insists Marco take him. Especially since Garza will never see the outside of a prison again.” Walt stopped for a moment and added, “How are you doing?”
Nick squinted as a neighbor’s dog came trotting out of the woods wagging his tail. He took a deep breath and said, “I could use a break too.”
There was a long pause.
“Walt?”
“Well, there is something else brewing,” Walt said.
“Yeah?”
Walt hesitated. After a few seconds, he said, “Forget it. I need you guys rested up.”
But Nick already knew they would be talking about this again. After a couple of weeks at home, Nick and Matt would be climbing the walls, and by the silence on the other end of the line, Walt seemed to know it too.
“Hey,” Walt said. “You need to get back to your family. Tell Julie I said hi. We’ll finish this conversation some other time.”
Nick shut his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the problem,” he said. “We will never finish this conversation.”
Epilogue
Susan Walker had watched the two boys acting casual as they passed the orphanage for the third time. Nairobi was a hard enough place to raise HIV babies, but when scavengers were casing her garden, Sarah went into protective mode. Her shack was made from cardboard and mud with a sheet of corrugated tin acting as a roof, but it was home to over fifty abandoned children who needed her support.
On the side of the orphanage was a garden surrounded by a plastic sheet to keep the rodents and thieves out. There was spinach and spring onions among others, but her prized possessions were the sweet potatoes which were just about to be harvested.
One of the boys was checking out for onlookers, while the other came up closer to the garden. They didn’t notice Susan on her knees, tilling the dirt with a hand trowel. She took her largest sweet potato and came to her feet.
The boy heading toward the garden froze.
Susan held out the sweet potato and nodded. The boy looked back at his friend who gave him a look of approval.
As the boy approached Susan, she handed him the prime catch and said, “I see you rummaging through my garbage at night. I don’t have much, but next time, come to me and I’ll help as best I can. Okay?”
The boy looked astonished to hear such an offer. He snatched the potato from her outstretched hand and walked backwards, as if Susan might turn on him. After a few steps, the boys ran silently on their bare feet down the dirt path like jewel thieves being chased by the law.
Susan sighed. She had so many needs, but the slums of Nairobi had no middle class. The adults in the area knew of her quandary and tried to protect the orphanage from scavengers, but the young kids with their hungry stomachs only knew survival and hadn’t yet discovered the etiquette of the slums.