THE hospital released Mona on June 29, nine days after she had flipped her car. They gave her a pair of crutches and a script for OxyContin. Finn drove her home on the interstate. They passed the spot where she had flipped her car. The wreck was gone.
“The insurance company took care of it,” Finn explained.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to see it,” said Mona.
After a minute, Finn said, “What are you most looking forward to when you get home?”
“Washing my hair.”
Finn’s phone beeped. It was Wilkins, his contact at Fish and Wildlife, sending him a text: Have lead on mamba. When they stopped for gas, Finn texted Wilkins back, setting up a meeting.
Four hours later, they arrived home in Redondo. Mona got out of the rental car, hoisted herself up on her crutches, and filled her lungs with ocean air.
“Gosh, it’s good to smell the sea again,” she said.
Someone had left a bouquet on the front steps. While Mona leaned on her crutches, Finn opened the little envelope and pulled out the card.
“‘From all of us at Wolfeson, White, wishing you a speedy recovery,’” he read.
“Bless their hearts,” said Mona.
Wolfeson, White weren’t the only ones to send flowers. At ten the following morning, the doorbell rang. Finn opened it and saw Chinchilla, Gomez, and Klein. Klein was holding a huge, expensive-looking bouquet.
Finn waved them all in. Mona was sitting on the couch in the living room, her broken leg up on a cushion. Her face lit up at the sight of the visitors. Finn handed her the card. She read it out loud.
“‘To Mona Jimenez. Get well soon. From your friends at CBP Air and Marine, Long Beach.’”
Mona smiled. “Thank you. First time I got flowers from the Customs and Border Protection.”
Finn took the bouquet to the kitchen, searched for a vase, found none, so he put the flowers in a jug, which he carried back into the living room and set on the sideboard.
Everybody was sitting around the coffee table. Finn asked if anyone wanted tea or coffee, but they all declined. There followed an awkward silence, then some equally awkward attempts at humor. The conversation veered to movies featuring snakes.
“My wife loves horror,” said Chinchilla. “She made me watch Anaconda. I get shivers just thinking about it.”
“The original?” said Gomez.
“There’s another?”
“You’re too young to have seen it, Mona, but in the first Indiana Jones movie, he gets thrown into a pit of snakes,” said Klein.
“Now I’ll never see it,” said Mona.
“No one’s mentioned the greatest snake film of all time,” said Gomez. “Snakes on a Plane.”
“Ella made me watch that one, too,” said Chinchilla, shaking her head.
“Did you know it’s based on a true story?” said Gomez.
“Stop it,” said Chinchilla.
While Chinchilla and Gomez argued, Klein turned to Finn and said he’d take him up on his offer of coffee after all. He followed Finn into the kitchen. Finn filled the filter machine with ground coffee and switched it on. The machine started hissing.
In a low voice, Klein said, “What happened?”
“She was on the highway. A snake came out from under her seat. She veered, hit the bank, and the car flipped.”
Klein shook his head. “How’d the snake get in the car?”
“Someone put it there.”
If Klein was dubious, he didn’t show it. “Who?” he said.
“Mona’s suing the BSCA. Someone wants her to drop the suit. It was a message. Not the first.”
Klein absorbed this. “Some message,” he said. “She must’ve gotten the fright of her life.”
Finn nodded. The coffee was ready. He poured Klein a cup. “You want cream?”
“Sure.”
Finn fetched the half-and-half from the fridge.
“I’m putting you on compassionate leave,” said Klein. “Two weeks, full pay, not counting the time you’ve already taken. You need more time, you let me know.”
“Thanks,” said Finn. He handed Klein the cream.
“Not a problem. We need you, but she needs you more.”
Klein poured cream into his coffee. He glanced quickly back into the living room, then turned to Finn and, in a near-whisper, said, “I’ve been speaking to the commissioner. He says the FBI think they have him. The mole.”
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know. But he told me that they’re going to make an arrest soon. Maybe as soon as next week.”
“That’s good news,” said Finn.
“That’s not all. I started putting Interceptors in the corridor. We’ve busted two drug boats so far.”
“Even better,” said Finn.
Finn glanced over Klein’s shoulder. From where he was standing, he could see Mona sitting on the sofa in the living room. She was laughing at something Chinchilla had said. Finn quietly closed the door and turned to Klein.
“Listen. There’s something I didn’t tell you. I think I know who put the snake in Mona’s car,” he said, lowering his voice even further. Klein leaned in.
“Who?”
“A Caballeros enforcer named Soto. The woman Mona was representing, the one who died in Paradise?”
“The one you rescued from the sinking panga?”
“Yeah. Carmen Vega. She was mixed up with the Caballeros in Tijuana and ran with Soto for a while. But she left him, and he didn’t like that. When he found her, he burned her with acid. She got away again. That’s when I found her. Mona says she saw him.”
Klein looked shocked. “Here in the United States?” he whispered.
“Yes. In the parking lot of a bar in Paradise. The day she crashed.”
“She tell this to the cops?”
Finn nodded. “Yeah. I don’t think they believe her.”
Klein looked thoughtful. “What’s this cartel guy got to do with Mona’s lawsuit against the BSCA?” he said.
“I don’t know,” said Finn, thinking but not saying that he intended to find out. He liked Klein and trusted him, but he intended to kill Soto, and he didn’t want to put his friend in an awkward situation. Still, his expression must’ve given him away, because after a moment, Klein put his hand on Finn’s shoulder, fixed him with his intelligent eyes, and said, “I know sometimes Mona doesn’t get what we do, Finn, but right now that doesn’t matter. Today, she’s one of us. You understand? You need help, anything at all, finding this son of a bitch, you let me know. Not just my help. I mean the whole of Customs and Border Protection. You’ve got sixty thousand CBP agents backing you up.”
Emotion welled up in Finn.
“Thanks,” he said. He used the pretext of putting the cream back in the fridge to turn away.
Later, after everyone had left, Finn went to the bathroom and ran a bath. While the tub filled, he foraged through Mona’s clutter in the cabinet under the sink until he found the fancy bath salts he’d seen her use, then poured them into the steaming water. He fetched a broom from the kitchen closet, taped a towel around its handle, and put it across the tub. He went back to the kitchen, got a large, extra-strong trash bag and some masking tape, and went to Mona.
“Ready?” he said. She nodded. He helped her out of her clothes, wrapped the trash bag around her cast, then taped it shut to her thigh. He helped her into the bath, making sure to keep her broken leg out of the water.
She pointed at her cast resting on the broom handle.
“Clever,” she said.
“Put your head back,” he said.
He used a saucepan to pour water over her hair. He massaged shampoo into her scalp.
Mona closed her eyes. “This is nice.”
Finn washed his wife’s hair. The day after Mona had been threatened over the phone, Finn had cleaned the Glock 19 semiautomatic he had given her but which she had refused to take. Now, kneeling on the hard bathroom tiles and looking at the bruises on Mona’s naked body, he decided he would keep the gun loaded and on him. It was no use in the gun safe. Klein had given him compassionate leave. He would stay close to Mona, and he would carry a weapon. Not that she could go far on crutches and with no car, but Finn wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Not until he had found Soto.
“What are you thinking about?” she said.
“Who said I was thinking?”
“I can tell. Your fingers don’t lie. Something’s on your mind.”
He rinsed out the shampoo. “I want to get this guy,” he said.
She opened her eyes and met his gaze.
“I may have a lead,” he said.
She reached out and held his forearm. “Give it to the police. That’s their job.”
He shook his head. Mona looked uneasy. Like something was bothering her, but she wasn’t sure how to articulate it.
“Nick,” she said.
“Yes?”
“I need some conditioner.”
While she waited for the conditioner to work, she said, “Soto is a killer. I mean, that’s his job. The thought of you coming face-to-face with him terrifies me, Nick. I want you to know that.”
Finn had been so scared for Mona, it hadn’t occurred to him that she might be scared for him.
“Don’t worry. I’ll have backup.”
“Who?”
“You remember my Fish and Wildlife buddy? Wilkins?”
“Can’t you ask your colleagues? Chinchilla, Gomez, Klein?”
Finn considered this. “I thought about asking them. They’d help if I asked.”
“So why didn’t you?”
Finn chose his words carefully. “It might go a certain way that would mean the end of their careers.”
“Nick. Please don’t say things like that.”
“I’ll speak to Klein. He’s retiring anyway.”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “Joaquin called. The trial’s been rescheduled to next week.”
“So soon? Isn’t it too early?”
Mona lay back in the tub. “Don’t worry, I’ll have backup,” she said.