Chapter Eighteen

After a speedy drive back to Santa Fe, Jack and Oscar went to breakfast at Pasqual's on Don Gaspar Avenue. Jack had a cheese omelet with black bean sauce and Oscar had a breakfast burrito with cheese, chicken, and green sauce. The food was terrific but Jack was too frustrated to enjoy it.

As he finished up his summary of his morning with Mary Jo at Blue Wolf, he shook his head.

“It doesn't add up,” he said.

But Oscar interrupted him.

“I don't know,” he speculated, “maybe that old senorita up there, Mary Jo, had it right. They sell capital-letter Youth and Vitality and maybe this girl knew it was all a bunch of jive. So they got rid of her.”

“No, no, no,” Jack said. “Look, resorts like Blue Wolf are all hype and everyone knows it. People come here to play at restoring their old batteries and everyone agrees not to mention that nothing works for very long. No one really believes they're going to get young again. They just come here to pretend and get pampered.”

“Wait a minute,” Oscar said. “This Mary Jo believed it. You just said so.”

Jack shook his head again.

“Nah. I don't think even she did. She's one of these rich older women who like to go someplace and find a mystery. She's playing at being Miss Marple. She doesn't really believe that they would kill girls to prevent them from telling the world that they hadn't discovered the fountain of youth.”

Oscar finished his breakfast burrito with gusto and took a gulp of his black coffee.

“I know the kind of woman you're talking about. My aunt Sharon is like that. She gets on a ship and two seconds later she thinks she's in some kind of Agatha Christie novel. She loves doing that. Makes the whole trip seem exciting.”

“Exactly,” Jack said. “She liked getting me involved in it, too.”

“But wait a minute,” Oscar said. “There's something she said that bothers me. She felt really, really good. From some shots they gave her. Too good, if all she had was B-12 or a few yoga classes. And they didn't want to admit that the girl's clothes were left in the closet.”

“If they even were,” Jack said.

“Si. She could have imagined it,” Oscar said. “But that part of the story . . . I mean the way you told it to me . . . it sounded like not only she believed it but you also believed her, amigo.”

Jack couldn't suppress a smile.

“You got me there, Osc. I did believe it.”

“So maybe her conclusion—that they're trying to hide the fact that they don't really do much for people—is off, but what she noticed, maybe that is for real. Maybe, for example, they're using speed to make people feel better, or shooting them full of some other kind of dangerous illegal drug. Maybe Jennifer and the other girl, Rachel, were going to report them, so they sold them off to the guys at the Jackalope to keep them from talking.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “But there was no sign of them out there. And I checked every room. Did you get anywhere with your phone calls and e-mails to Juarez?”

“Nada. No sight of any Chinese girl. And I talked to some people who would know.”

“And then there's this other thing. How do the fat boy, Zollie, and his hog fit in?” Jack wondered.

But before Oscar could answer him, Jack's cell phone rang.

“This Jack Harper?” a tense voice asked.

“Yeah,” Jack said.

“It's me, Tommy. From Lucky's. I gotta talk to you.”

“Sure, kid,” Jack said. “What's up?”

“Can't talk long now. I think I know what happened to that girl you're hunting for.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. But they'll be walking in here any minute. You know the Red Sombrero? I can meet you near there. If Lucky don't catch me first. There's a big butte near the Sombrero. You take Dark Moon Road. I'll be back along there. Can't go in the restaurant. They'd find me.”

“I don't know the area.”

“Pull off at Dark Moon and drive north on the dirt road. When you get to the high rocks, wait. I'll signal you. Don't bring a bunch of cops, though, Harper, or I'm a dead man, and maybe you, too. Shit, they're coming. I gotta go.”

The phone clicked dead, and Jack turned and looked at Oscar.

“Man, this is getting weirder by the minute. That was Tommy, the kid from Lucky's gang. Says he knows where Jennifer is.”

“You believe him?”

“I don't know. But he sounded for real. And scared shitless.”

“Which makes him the perfect person to send us right into an ambush.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“We could use some backup,” Oscar said.

“Kid says we bring in backup, he dies.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” Oscar sighed. “Guess we play it down and dirty then, hey, amigo?”

“Guess so. I mean, why should this time be any different?”

He pulled out his wallet, laid down some bills, and they took off.