Jesse had been acting odd all morning. He didn’t want to play video games; he swam for a while but got bored quickly, then sat on his phone doing something Sean wasn’t sure about. He could ask—or covertly find out—but he didn’t want to break Jesse’s trust.
“What do you want to do for lunch?” Sean asked, sitting next to Jesse in the sunroom.
He shrugged. “Where’d Kane go?”
“To check out something for me.”
That morning, Sean had received a call from Jimenez at the US Marshals’ office. He wouldn’t send Sean the photo he’d obtained through the red-light camera, but he did give Sean enough information about the driver Manuel Domingo—including a long and colorful criminal history—that Sean wanted to check him out. The criminal history was mostly work-for-hire, not human trafficking or drug running. He’d done five years for robbery—a warehouse where he and his team stole more than ten million dollars in microprocessors. Because most had been recovered, he’d been granted a reduced sentence.
Sean wanted to go himself, but Kane convinced him to let him and Nate check it out. Nate had gone through his psych eval that morning and was cleared to go back to work Monday—but he was bored, and Sean understood how that felt.
“You’re lying to me,” Jesse said.
“No—why would you say that?”
“You promised you would always tell me the truth.”
“I have.”
“Then tell me exactly what Kane is doing. It’s about those guys who followed us on Wednesday, isn’t it? You think they work for the Flores cartel.”
“Yes, it is about those guys, and no, I don’t think they’re working for the cartels.” Jesse was thirteen—how much should Sean tell him? He’d already seen violence in his young life, and Sean didn’t want to coddle him, but at the same time, did he have to know everything?
It was harder, Sean suspected, because he hadn’t been around for most of Jesse’s life. Sure, he was his biological father, but he hadn’t raised him, and things they did together were what friends—what brothers—might do. Play video games. Go to baseball games. Swim. Watch movies. They played together. Sean wasn’t going to be around every night to tell him to do his homework or help him with his math. He probably wouldn’t even see him on his first date, or drive him to the prom.
That realization—that he hadn’t been around for the important moments in Jesse’s life, and likely wouldn’t be in the future—upset him.
And now Jesse was expecting him to lie. Sean could see it on his face.
“I don’t want to scare you, but I don’t want you to think everything is just fine,” Sean said cautiously. “My life, Kane’s life, even Lucy—well, none of us have taken the safe and easy road. Growing up, I was around guns every day. Both my parents had been in the military, and then two of my brothers. Security was like second nature to us. I learned personal safety because my dad wouldn’t have it any other way, and working with Kane I had the best on-the-job training out there. You’ll learn to protect yourself, to see potential threats, but it doesn’t happen overnight, so yes, I’m worried about you.”
“Why can’t you train me?”
“I already am, in a way. But it’s a long process. You can’t just expect to pick up everything in a couple weeks. And you’re a kid. I want you to be a kid for as long as you can.”
“A kid.” Jesse grunted. “I haven’t felt like a kid in a year.”
His voice cracked, and Sean wondered if there was more here that he wasn’t seeing—that he didn’t know how to see because he was new to parenthood.
“I was forced to grow up fast, too,” Sean said. “It’s not fun, and you feel like you’ve been cheated.”
“Are you going to tell me why you’re babysitting me? And why you sent Kane out? Why couldn’t we do it together?”
“First, I don’t know what these thugs are up to, so I’m not going to bring you on some reconnaissance mission when I don’t have enough information to ensure your safety. Second, I’m not babysitting you.”
“You aren’t working.”
“I chose not to work while you’re here. I only get you for six weeks. I finished up a big job before I picked you up in Sacramento, and I have another job lined up after you go back. You don’t have to worry about that. Unless you’re bored with me.”
“No, but it’s just weird.”
“I guess it is. To answer your question, I trust Kane to get to the bottom of whatever those guys are up to. That’s why he’s looking into it.” Sean paused. “Are you bored? We can have another barbecue this weekend. Or—” He stopped and considered what he could do. He’d been thinking about taking Jesse over to St. Catherine’s since Michael texted him the other day. Why was he worried about it? It would be good for Jesse to meet the boys. He was feeling sorry for himself and Sean didn’t know how to quell that except to show him that there were other boys, his age, who were far less fortunate. He didn’t want to diminish what Jesse had suffered, but he wanted Jesse to put it in perspective.
“What?” Jesse asked.
“Last year Kane, Lucy, and I rescued a group of boys who’d been used by the drug cartel to serve as mules. That means they brought drugs across the border. They were beaten, starved, threatened, many were killed. One of the boys escaped and through a series of events, we found him and he led us to the rest of those held captive. These kids have had a rough life—their parents are dead or in prison. They don’t have any support from family. I usually go over there once a week to help them with their homework, talk, whatever. School’s out, so I didn’t think it was a problem, but one of the boys—Michael, the kid who escaped—texted me the other day and wanted to know if I was around.”
“Go ahead. I’m okay here, I really am. Bandit and I will just hang out.”
“I know you are—my security is the best. But why don’t you come with me?”
“Really? You don’t mind me coming?”
Sean put his arm over Jesse’s shoulders. “I like having you around. You’ll like the boys. They don’t trust easily. They might be wary around you at first, but they’ll warm up. Just be yourself.”
* * *
Kane trusted Sean’s instincts about security, but after he checked with his sources and was confident the Flores cartel was completely disbanded and no one had put a hit out on the Spades or his brother, he thought maybe Sean had become marginally paranoid. With good reason—the Rogans had made a lot of enemies in the drug trade, and with Jesse just coming out of WITSEC and Carson Spade helping the feds as part of his plea deal, someone could be biding their time.
Still, Kane trusted his contacts, and he had pulled in favors to ensure that both Sean and Jesse were safe—as safe as anyone could be in their line of work.
Nate was driving—he knew San Antonio better than Kane. Once they had Domingo’s name it was easy to track him. They located him at a gym in a sketchy warehouse district southeast of downtown.
“He’s a gun for hire,” Kane said. “We’ll find out who hired him—if anyone.”
Nate glanced over as he parked. “You think Sean is overreacting.”
“I’ll flush him out,” Kane said in lieu of an answer. “There’s an exit back and front but if he rabbits, he’ll go to his vehicle.”
“I got it.”
Kane walked into the gym while Nate staked out the black Lincoln. It was hot and humid, the swamp cooler doing little to cool the sweltering gym. A dozen men and a few women worked with weights, but most of them stood around sweating.
Manuel Domingo was working with hand weights. He glanced at Kane but didn’t look twice.
A short, muscular guy approached him. “Ten dollars a day, or twenty-five a week.”
“I’m looking for Domingo,” Kane said.
He shrugged. “Can I tell him why?”
“Friend of mine says he does odd jobs. I have an odd job.”
He said it in a low voice, but Domingo was close enough to hear him. The manager glanced over at Domingo, who nodded.
The manager pointed to Domingo, and Kane approached. “You need a job?” Kane asked.
“Depends what.”
“All you need to know is it pays two large to make a delivery.”
“Not just any delivery.”
“Special cargo.”
“Who you get my name from?”
Jimenez had given Kane a list of known associates, and most were in prison. “Garcia. From McClelland.”
“You were in the joint?”
“Short stint.”
Domingo was suspicious. Kane held his ground.
“You want the job or not?”
“I need to make some calls.”
“Or not,” Kane said and walked away. Domingo hesitated, then followed.
Sometimes, it was just too fucking easy.
As soon as they stepped outside, Kane turned, elbowed Domingo in the gut, and flipped him to the ground. The guy was big but slow and Kane had a gun on the back of his head before he knew what happened.
Kane saw Nate approach out of the corner of his eye and he waved him off. Nate slipped back between the cars and watched.
Kane hauled Domingo to his feet and pushed him against the side of the gym. “So you wanted to do this the fun way,” Kane said.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Who hired you to follow the black Wrangler on Wednesday?” Kane asked. He didn’t know how much Domingo knew about Sean—he might not even know his name, and Kane didn’t want to give him any information he didn’t already have.
“What?”
Kane punched him in the kidney. He knew from experience how much it hurt.
Domingo slammed his fist against the wall in pain. “Fuck!”
“Black Wrangler. Wednesday. The Rib House. Who hired you?”
“That? Oh, that was nothing.”
Sean was right. Damn, Kane shouldn’t doubt his brother.
“Why did you follow him?”
“No reason.”
Kane applied pressure on Domingo’s neck. “That’s not an answer.”
“Stop! I don’t know, really—just a guy who paid me a thousand to follow this Rogan guy. That’s it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why. I swear to God, I don’t know!”
“What did you tell this guy?”
“That Rogan made the tail. I asked if he wanted me to tag-team, and no, the gig was over, I got my money, end of story.”
“Who?”
“I. Don’t. Know. A friend of a friend of a friend. Really, it was a handshake deal and I didn’t even meet him!”
Domingo might be a big, burly guy but he was a wimp.
“How did you get him the information?”
“Message. The number’s burned, buddy, you’re not going to trace it or anything.”
“How did you know where to pick him up?”
“Huh?”
Dear Lord, this guy was an idiot. “How did you know Rogan would be at the Rib House?”
“They sent me a text with an address.”
How the hell did anyone know Sean would be at that restaurant at that time? Had to be a tracker of some sort.
“Stay away from Rogan,” Kane said.
“Job’s over. I swear.”
“If you’re lying, I will kill you.”
Kane pushed him down and walked away. By the time he and Nate were in Nate’s truck, Domingo had scurried back into the gym.
“What now?” Nate said.
“We wait and follow him. He was telling part truth, part lie.”
“How can you tell?”
Kane just smiled. “I just know.” He called Sean. “You were right, he was tailing you.”
“I told you.”
“I hate it when you do that.”
“Don’t doubt me.”
“I didn’t.”
Sean snorted.
“We need to follow him, he might make Nate’s truck.”
“I’m at the boys’ home with Jesse.”
“Bring him. Good lesson.”
“No. Lucy’s leaving headquarters soon, I’ll have her pick him up. Where are you?”
Kane told him. “But I don’t know for how long.”
“I’m ten, fifteen minutes away. I’ll head there, let me know if you move.”
* * *
When they first arrived at the boys’ home a few hours ago, Jesse was more than a little nervous. He didn’t know what to expect. When they walked in, several boys ran up to Sean and gave him a hug. They wanted to know where he’d been, if he’d been out of town on business, why he didn’t come to Sunday dinner. Jesse felt both out of place and guilty. Apparently, his dad came here all the time to hang out with the boys, but he hadn’t in weeks—because Jesse was here.
“So,” Sean said to the gathering, “I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is my son, Jesse. He lives in California with his mother, but is staying with me for a few weeks this summer. Hey, Tito, why don’t you and Brian show him around?”
Tito was the smallest kid in the group and walked with a limp. He had a big grin on his thin face. “Hi, Jesse! I’m Tito. Want to see the pool Sean built for us?”
“I didn’t build it,” Sean said.
Tito took Jesse’s hand and pulled him outside. Brian was less friendly but followed them.
Tito continued talking. The kid looked really young, but Jesse learned he was eleven. He’d never gone to school until last year because his mother had been a drug addict and never enrolled him. When he was seven, she OD’d and he went to foster care, where he learned that his dad was in prison. When he was nine, he was sent to work in Mexico for friends of his father’s. “But Michael came back like he promised and brought help.”
“Shush, Tito,” Brian said.
“Oh, you probably already know,” Tito said.
“Know what?” Jesse asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Brian said.
Jesse really wanted to know, but he said, “It’s okay, the pool is really neat. Thanks for the tour.”
“Do you play video games?”
“Sure.”
Tito lit up. “Come to the game room! Sean got us some really cool games.”
For an hour, Jesse played video games with Tito and Brian, then they had a snack in the kitchen and he met Sister Ruth, who took care of the boys and the house. A couple other boys came in and asked Jesse questions, and then it wasn’t weird anymore. Jesse still wanted to know exactly what his dad had done, and why he’d bought a house for these kids, but Sean had gone off with an older kid named Michael. Probably the Michael he’d talked about earlier.
After snacks, they all went swimming—Brian found an extra pair of trunks for Jesse—and that’s when Jesse saw the scars.
There were scars on all the boys. Even little Tito. His leg was really messed up—probably why he limped—but there was a big round, puckered scar that looked like it was from a gunshot.
“Were you shot?” Jesse asked without thinking.
Tito nodded. “I almost died but Sean saved me. I couldn’t walk and he carried me really far instead of leaving me behind.”
Jesse waited until Brian jumped into the pool. Tito seemed to be the most talkative and forthcoming, and Jesse thought he’d answer anything. “Everyone here has scars. Were you—did someone hurt you?”
Tito nodded. “We were all locked up in a jail in Mexico, except when we were working.” He paused, then lowered his voice. “I don’t mind talking about it, Father Mateo says that it’s good to talk because then the bad stuff doesn’t stay inside. But it’s hard for Brian and some to talk about it, even though we got out a long time ago.”
“How long?”
“Over a year.”
“Got out of where?”
“The jail. Where the general kept us when we weren’t working. He was really bad and now he’s dead.”
Someone locked up little kids in a prison? In Mexico? Jesse didn’t want to believe it … but he did. He’d seen some pretty awful things when Carson took him to Mexico when he worked for the Flores cartel. Jesse hadn’t known it at the time, but then he learned the truth. And these boys were forced to work for a cartel? They were all about his age. Was it the Flores cartel? How could his stepfather have been party to anything like that? Maybe it wasn’t the same criminals, but it was the same type of people—they were violent and they didn’t care who they hurt.
“Hey, Tito!” one of the boys called from the opposite side of the pool. “Watch this!”
He jumped off the diving board and made a huge cannonball splash, soaking everyone within a foot of the pool. When he surfaced, Tito yelled, “Frisco! Do it again!”
Sean came out then. He was with the same boy he’d gone off with more than an hour ago.
“Hold it, Frisco,” Sean said, “wait until I get out of here.”
Sean walked over to them. “You show Jesse everything?” he asked Tito.
“We played video games, we ate, we swam, can you stay for dinner? Please?”
Sean squatted. “I can’t. I have to go. But Jesse can stay for a while. Can I talk to him for a sec?”
“Sure.” Tito limped off.
Sean stood and said, “Jess, this is Michael Rodriguez, a good friend of mine. We were just catching up, I didn’t realize how much time passed.”
“It’s okay, we were having fun out here.”
“Good. I have to go and help Kane with that project we talked about earlier. I called Lucy, and she’ll pick you up on her way home. Can you hang here for another hour or so?”
Jesse looked at Michael. The kid was the oldest in the house, at least fifteen, and he looked like he’d seen everything and didn’t like any of it.
“That’s okay, Michael, right?” Sean continued.
“Sure,” Michael said.
Jesse didn’t believe it. Sean didn’t, either, but he put his arm around Michael’s shoulders and said, “I’m counting on you, okay?”
Michael nodded. “I have meal prep this week. You can help,” he said to Jesse and motioned for him to follow.
Jesse glanced at Sean, who was watching closely. What was he supposed to do? Stay? Beg to go with Sean? He didn’t know if he wanted to stay here, but if he made a scene, Sean would think he was immature.
He followed Michael inside, and changed back into his clothes in the bathroom. Sean was standing outside the door when he was finished.
“Jess, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot outside, but Michael doesn’t trust many people. He’ll come around.”
“What’s his story?” Jesse asked.
“I’ll tell you later. I promise, okay? For now, just cut him a little slack. But not too much. Don’t let him bully you, but realize that he’s protective of the others, and even though you’re my son, he’s cautious.”
“How did Tito get shot?”
His dad’s face hardened. He’d seen this expression before—when they were escaping the Flores compound in Guadalajara. Hard and angry. Like his uncle Kane.
“A bastard shot him and left him. It got infected. He nearly died.”
“He said you saved him.”
“It was a group effort.” Sean put his arm around Jesse and gave him a hug. “You’re a good kid, Jess. So’s Tito. Neither of you should have had to go through any of that bullshit down in Mexico. But it’s over.”
“I know.”
But sometimes Jesse thought it would never be truly over. Just because Sean and Kane stopped the Flores cartel didn’t mean that another group hadn’t started up. It was like a never-ending cycle.
“You’re okay that I’m going, right?”
“Is it about the guy who followed us?”
“Kane found him. We’re going to track him, see what happens. Lucy will be here by six thirty. And Sister Ruth will insist you stay for dinner. But trust me—the food is always great. I’ll be home before you go to bed, okay?”
Jesse was nervous, but he didn’t want his dad to know he was worried. “Okay.”