CHAPTER 30

CAL AND KELLY REACHED THE BOTTOM of the ravine in time to see their car explode against the clear afternoon sky. They were supposed to be in that car, probably dead long before it went up in flames. And if they wanted to live, they hoped other people would believe they were inside it. But they weren’t. The game wasn’t over. People’s lives were still at stake. There was no time to mull over the danger they had just escaped.

They both looked at each other with knowing glances. Somehow they were still alive.

“It gets worse before it gets better, right, Cal?” Kelly said.

“Remind me to enroll for photography classes when I get back, OK?”

Kelly smiled, breaking a half hour of tension.

They began walking along the dusty road, waiting for their mystery chauffeur to appear.

“Look, I know you feel bad about this and that you’re to blame for dragging me into all this, but I’m here because I want to be,” Kelly said.

Cal didn’t look up.

“I never should have brought you here.”

“You didn’t, Cal. You asked me to come because you needed help. And I came because I wanted to help you and help a little boy get back to his parents. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

“I can’t help it. Back there …” Cal paused. Tears welled up in his eyes. “Back there, I don’t know what I would have done if he tried to kill you first. I felt helpless.”

“Cal, you acted on your instincts. You protected me. I won’t forget that.”

“But I didn’t do anything. If he wanted to kill us, I couldn’t have protected you.”

“Well, maybe you should enroll in some karate classes and leave the photography to me.”

Cal cracked his first smile since earlier that morning. He adored Kelly’s witty one-liners.

She turned serious again. “I know I freaked out back there, but we’re going to do this. We’re going to get that boy back with his parents where he belongs. We have to.”

Cal was still processing everything when a banged-up Ford Festiva pulled up next to them.

“Cal? Kelly?” the driver asked.

“Yeah. That’s us,” Cal said.

“My cousin, Carlos, told me you would be waiting for me here. Please get inside the car.”

They both got in the back seat as requested.

“My name is Josuel. It’s nice to meet you.”

Josuel’s English was sufficient though Cal could tell any prolonged conversation would likely be a struggle.

“Where are we going, Josuel?” Cal asked.

“I have a friend who is going to let you stay with him for a few days. He will be… how do you say… discreet?”

“Discreet?”

“Ah, yes, discreet.”

And that was the end of the small talk. Josuel pulled back onto the two-lane road that Cal and Kelly had used to access Mr. Hernandez’s compound.

“You might want to hide under the blanket I put in the back,” Josuel said.

“Why is that?” Cal asked.

“This is a very watched road. It would not be good for either of us if we are seen together.”

Cal and Kelly didn’t say another word as they slipped beneath the blanket.

* * *

AFTER 20 MINUTES, the car came to a stop.

“It’s safe to come out now,” Josuel said.

Cal and Kelly climbed from beneath the blanket and sat up. They were inside what looked like an auto repair shop. Two cars were up on makeshift blocks, while another car rested on the ground with no wheels.

“What is this place?” Cal asked.

“It’s where I work. There is a couch and a chair in the office where you can stay tonight.”

“Is this safe?” Kelly asked.

“For tonight. We are closed on the weekends. No one will look for you here.”

“Where are we exactly?” Cal questioned.

“We are two blocks northeast from the square where your hotel was located.”

Josuel proceeded to give them instructions on how to get out, how to lock up, and what to do if anyone came around.

“Do you need anything else?”

“I guess not,” Cal said.

He lied. He needed a fresh change of clothes and a hot shower. He needed to be out of Juarez and back in Houston writing about the Super Bowl. He needed this nightmare to be over.

Josuel lingered waiting for an official dismissal.

“We’ll be fine,” Kelly said, giving Josuel permission to leave. “Thank you again.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said before opening the garage door and pulling out.

Cal yanked on the chain to close the garage door. Through two small windows near the top of the 20-foot ceiling, the afternoon sun dimly lit the interior. Cal searched for lights inside the cramped office as he thought about their instructions for the next day. A small lamp sat on the corner of the worn wooden desk, awash in a sea of paperwork. Cal clicked it on and the uncovered bulb flickered to life.

“What do we do now?” Kelly asked.

“I think we ought to let our FBI handler know we’re alive,” Cal answered.

“But we don’t have a cell phone.”

“Well, there is a phone here. I memorized the emergency number.”

“Look at you, Boy Scout. Always prepared.”

“I didn’t take this assignment lightly—and I’m sure glad I didn’t now.”

Cal picked up the phone on the desk and dialed the number.

“Please enter your security password,” came the automated response on the other end.

Cal punched in the numbers on the keypad and waited. A series of clicks and whirls passed the seconds while Cal awaited the voice of a real human being.

“Is this Mr. Murphy?” asked the voice on the other end.

“Yes, it is. I’d like to speak to Agent Solterbeck.”

“Hold on a minute.”

He looked at Kelly, who stared at him anxiously awaiting any crumb of news he might toss her way. A few more clicks and then another voice.

“Cal Murphy? Is that you?”

“Sure is. I just wanted to let you know that we’re still alive and working on rescuing Jake.”

“Oh, thank God you’re alive. One of my operatives called in to report that you had been killed in a fiery explosion off a road near Hernandez’s compound.”

“Well, that’s what we were hoping everyone would think.”

“What happened?”

“Well, Hernandez was on to us. I knew we were in trouble when I saw that tattoo I told you about on the arms of one of his bodyguards. We were able to identify where they are holding Jake.”

“Oh, that’s great. We need to get that information from you as soon as possible so we can act on it.”

“Unfortunately, it’s worthless now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, after we left, we were run off the road by one of Hernandez’s men. He told us he would help us save Jake but he had to make it look like we were dead.”

“He must have done a pretty good job. They found bodies on the scene with your identification cards.”

“I don’t know what he did, but he sent us down a ravine to meet with someone who picked us up and brought us to this auto repair shop.”

“Do you know where you’re at? We can come get you right now.”

“We do know where we’re at, but we still want to help. This guy who helped us today—his name was Carlos Rivera—gave us instructions on how we can meet up with some people tomorrow who will give us the information we need to safely get Jake back.”

“So you want to play this thing out?”

“Yeah, if that’s OK with you. Kelly and I both know the risks involved. We figure if we’ve come this far, we should go all the way to make sure Jake gets home safe.”

“It’s up to you. We can have a team there in ten minutes to take you back home.”

“No, I think we’d rather stay and get that information for you. We do need our personal belongings from our room and a new cell phone. Do you think you can put them in a backpack and leave them at San Augustín Chapel for us tomorrow morning?”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

“Thanks.”

“Good luck, Cal. We’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

Cal hung up and relayed the conversation to Kelly. They were worn out from running for their lives and masquerading around the home of a cartel boss. At least he thought they were dead. At least they could sleep in peace for a night.

* * *

MORALES USED A NEW BURNER PHONE to take another picture of Jake. He sent the photo to Noah Larson along with another message:

we know you told … your son will pay

It was not a pretty picture. Jake had a few scratches and cuts on him. He didn’t look emaciated, but it certainly looked like someone had been bullying him.

Morales then kicked Jake, shoving him toward the door. Jake whimpered. “Stop it,” he whined. It was obvious Jake was getting tired of being pushed around. But Morales didn’t care. He hated babysitting the kid and had no qualms about expressing his displeasure.

“I want my mommy and daddy,” Jake said.

“Shut up, kid, and get in the van,” Morales snapped.

Jake stumbled forward, falling down and hitting his head on one of the cobblestones protruding out of the road. A small stream of blood trickled down his face. He began crying.

“Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough,” Morales grumbled.

Morales yanked the kid off the ground with one hand, being careful not to spill the liquor bottle in his other. He slammed the door shut and sped off toward the city.