Presumably sensing Lock’s tension, Ty straightened up in the passenger seat, his head on a swivel, his gun in his hand. They passed a side road. A car pulled out in front of them. Lock swerved around it, careful to keep his hand off the horn. He checked it out in the rear-view. The driver, a middle-aged woman, was the sole occupant. It had been bad driving, nothing more. When he looked up again, the Escalade was out of sight.
Ty pointed at a crossroads. ‘He took a left up there.’
Lock accelerated a little, trying not to get over-anxious, but aware that if they lost the Escalade they might also lose the girl. Ty’s cell phone rang.
Lock spotted the car again as Ty took a call from Rafaela.
‘You’re sure?’ he heard Ty ask. ‘Okay.’
He gave Rafaela their current location and killed the call. ‘Looks like the girl and Charlie Mendez were there but they’re not now.’
‘Did she see any other vehicles exit the property after this one?’
Ty shook his head. ‘Better than evens they’re both inside, so what you want to do, Ryan?’
Lock took a moment. The Escalade’s movements were deliberate. It wasn’t as if the driver was idly circling the town. He had a destination in mind where, it was safe to assume, there would be reinforcements. The Escalade could hold maybe seven individuals. Not great odds, but better than they would be at another narco-mansion where they would have the same problems of entry.
‘I think we roll the dice,’ Lock said, burying the gas pedal and going hard after the fleeing Escalade.
Forty-nine
Hector had spotted the Toyota RAV 4 dropping in behind them a few blocks from the house. When you lived your entire life with one eye open at all times, it became second nature to pick out a car that was following you.
The white splash of headlights in his rear-view prevented him seeing exactly who was inside, but it hardly mattered. No doubt it was connected to whoever had set the fire at the side of the house as they were leaving — to which he’d been alerted by one of the guards as he’d pulled out of the driveway.
As he drove he had made a phone call, bringing his boss up to speed on what was going on. Zapatero had been freaked that he hadn’t travelled with additional security but Hector had assured him that he was fine: he had precautions in place. But if they were being followed it left a question mark over the girl. What did his boss want him to do now?
The original plan had been to bring her out to the ranch for a special party before she was disposed of. But with all four men set to be there, delivering her might mean delivering trouble too. It wasn’t Hector’s job to offer opinions so he simply asked whether or not he should continue as ordered, or whether the plan should change. Zapatero had told him he would call him back.
At the end of the call, Charlie asked, ‘Everything okay?’
Hector smiled. ‘Sure. Everything’s fine.’
He glanced into the rear-view mirror to see the girl sitting awkwardly in the back. His cell phone rang.
‘Her attendance is no longer needed,’ Zapatero said, and hung up.
Over the years Hector had received many such calls. The language was always oblique. Not once had anyone ever told him to kill or maim someone. Instead they had told him to ‘deal with the situation’ or that a particular person was ‘no longer required’. The words were corporate, and unemotional. It left no doubt about what was expected and Hector had never been troubled by the task, but as the horrors had stacked up, his ability to block them out with alcohol or drugs had diminished.
He snuck another glance at Charlie and an idea took hold in his head. What was that phrase about two birds and one stone? Perhaps it was time Charlie Mendez was forced to confront the consequences of his actions and clean up his own mess for once.
Fifty
In the back seat, Julia knew she had to escape before they reached their destination or she was dead. Since her kidnapping, when anyone had spoken Spanish to or around her, she had played dumb and pretended not to understand what was being said. The truth was different. Though she was far from fluent, she could broadly follow a conversation. And she could certainly pick out enough words to work out that Hector had just discussed whether she should live or die.
Sitting alone in the back seat, she had already tried the door. It was centrally locked, with no way of overriding it from where she was. Her only chance, she figured, was to cause some kind of distraction, and find a way to make them pull over. But it couldn’t be obvious, like pretending she had to pee. It had to be something from left field that would throw them off balance. Her mind flashed back to her childhood and road trips with her parents.
Leaning slightly forward in her seat, so that neither Charlie nor Hector could see her, she jammed the index and middle fingers of her right hand into her mouth, forcing them down her throat until she began to gag.
Fifty-one
Startled by the sound of retching, Hector twisted in the driver’s seat, just in time to catch the vomit as it arced from back seat to front. It splashed on the side of his face. His foot tapped at the brake as he piloted the Escalade to the side of the road. Next to him, Charlie must have caught some too because he exclaimed, ‘Jesus Christ,’ as Julia retched again.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled.
Hector brought the Escalade to a complete stop and turned to assess the damage. The Escalade would have to be cleaned. He could do it when they got to the ranch.
Charlie swiped at the vomit on his jacket. ‘Jesus, that’s disgusting,’ he said, opening the passenger door before Hector could stop him.
‘Where are you going?’ Hector asked.
Charlie shot him a you’re-only-the-help look and kept going. ‘To get some air. It freakin’ reeks in here.’
‘Can I get some air too?’ Julia asked, eyes pleading.
‘No,’ said Hector, firmly. In the seconds of confusion he had forgotten about the vehicle that had been following them. Now, as he checked the mirrors, he couldn’t see it anywhere. Something told him it had kept going, driving past when he had stopped, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe it hadn’t been following them after all. If it was someone who intended doing them harm surely they would have taken this opportunity.
‘Stay where you are,’ he said, and clambered out to retrieve Charlie. He slammed the door behind him and clicked the key fob to lock it. Let Julia suffer the stench.
A chill desert breeze caught him off guard. Charlie was standing a few feet at the back of the Escalade, hands cupped protectively around the red tip of a cigarette as the wind bit at the tobacco. Hector took a moment to study their surroundings. There was traffic, but not much. Maybe one car passing in either direction every forty seconds or so. He could see the city lights in the far distance. There was a metal crash barrier, and beyond that scrub desert. He glanced up into the night sky. A full moon hung high overhead.
He peered down the road for the RAV 4 or any other vehicle that might have stopped but there was nothing and no one. He walked to the back of the Escalade and repeated the procedure as a bus whizzed by on its way home from a maquiladora.
No one would stop. Hector knew that much. If someone broke down here it was their hard luck. It wasn’t only men such as him who were paranoid. It was the defining feeling on this side of the border. Good Samaritans had long since been snuffed out. A car at the side of the road would only be approached by someone looking for trouble.
This was his opportunity. The girl’s sickness had been a signal. He turned to Charlie. ‘Finish your cigarette.’
Charlie took a long final drag and crushed the butt under his heel. He started back towards the front passenger seat but Hector blocked his path with a meaty arm. Beyond the crash barrier the ground sloped down for about seven feet before levelling off and extending into the distance.