Later that morning, Cait suffered through a phone call with Tucson police detective Marv Walsh, as blunt and contrary as his colleague, Larry Bison. “You’re not related to Julius Gallegos, so you’re not entitled to any information about that case,” Walsh said.
Evidently the investigators pegged Cait and Jack as liars.
“Julius is my fiancé’s brother,” she said evenly. “He was probably kidnapped as retribution because Jack had worked on a case involving a New Mexico gang.”
“I heard something about that. That’s why Bison and I have trouble with that story about how you two just happened to be hanging around a vacant house that was shot to smithereens. Where is Jack, by the way?”
Cait bit her tongue. She didn’t want to get into it with Walsh about whether she and Jack were hiding something. They were. But Jack had his reasons for not revealing that he and Cait had been followed from Albuquerque and around Tucson.
For one thing, he was on leave, not officially working any cases. He didn’t know who the Sandario Road gunmen were, although he had his suspicions. When he found the tracking device under Cait’s jeep, it occurred to him someone in law enforcement could have been involved in keeping tabs on them. After all, Jason Gonzalez said he’d been followed from Albuquerque to LA, and from LA through the California desert. Whoever was behind the surveillance was using sophisticated equipment. Jack was wary enough to decide there was no benefit to sharing his suspicions with Tucson police. “Call me paranoid, but they don’t need to know everything.” he’d said.
Now Cait skirted the issue. “I’ll have Jack call you,” she told Walsh.
“My dear, that won’t be necessary. If your future brother in law survives, I’d advise him to choose his friends more carefully. I’m not going to share with you what we find out about his case. After all, you and your par amour are keeping us in the dark. How weird to have a cop and a gang member in the same family.” Marv Walsh snorted.
Don’t dear me. Cait held back a retort. “You’ll have someone guarding Julius’ room in the med center?”
“We can’t spare officers to watch over riffraff in the hospital. He’s not what you’d call an upstanding citizen.”
“Doing your job includes ensuring Julius Gallegos’ safety. If he’s assaulted or attacked in his hospital room after our conversation, I guarantee you will have legal and career problems. Have a nice day.” Cait disconnected before her mouth got her deeper in hot water.
She cupped her hands and blew a few breathes between her fingers. If Julius didn’t merit police protection, she would have to make her own arrangements.
Hospital visiting hours wouldn’t start until later, so she sat at her brother’s kitchen table and browsed the internet with her phone. The house where Julius had been held captive—2689 Cloudburst Terrace—was owned by a family trust in Seattle, Washington and listed as a rental property, according to county tax records.
On a whim, Cait called the Sunrise Drive office of Casa de Oro, a real estate company specializing in luxury properties. The receptionist transferred her to Jerry Manos, a realtor who handled a number of upmarket listings.
“I understand you’re looking to rent a nice home in the foothills?” Manos’ tone was solicitous.
“I’m interested in a specific house.” Cait gave him the Cloudburst Terrace address. “What I really want is to get hold of the rental agent.”
The realtor snapped to attention. “Isn’t that the place in the news this morning? Where a kidnap victim was held?”
“It is. I’m trying to find out who lived there.” Cait identified herself as a reporter from Albuquerque, and added that she had a personal interest in the story. “My soon-to-be brother in law was the man held prisoner there, and Tucson police won’t talk to me.”
“Not nice of them.” Manos clacked away on a keyboard. “You really are a reporter.” He was quick to double-check her story.
“The cops here have given me one too many tickets,” he said. “Just keep my name and my company’s name out of your story. I’ll try to get back to you soon.”
“Thank you so much.” Cait hung up and got ready to visit Julius.
The realtor called back as she headed through the lobby of the Tucson Medical Center.
“That house on Cloudburst Terrace was rented for a week through Airbnb. The renter prepaid $3,500 in cash.” Manos had gotten hold of the out-of-town owners, who referred him to a realtor who had handled the transaction. “I’m sure the name and driver’s license on the application are phony.”
Cait agreed, although she wrote down the renter’s name—Robert Silva of Los Angeles.
She thanked the realtor and headed for Julius’ room on an upper floor. As she feared, there was no guard stationed outside.
“Hey there. Thank you so much for saving my ass.” Julius sounded raspy, his face a mass of red and purple bruising.
Cait rested a hand on his arm. “No problem. I’m sorry what you went through.”
“Not your fault.” Pain contorted his expression as he shifted around.
“Lita brought me to that house. We staked it out and saw you.”
“She’s a good person. Tell her I . . . “ Julius struggled with what to say. “Tell her thank you.”
“Who were those guys?” Cait felt guilty grilling him in his condition.
“They had it in for Jack. I was convenient . . .”
“Sonny Para’s people?” He wouldn’t meet her eyes, so she knew the answer.
“That’s right.”
“What did they say about Jack?”
“One guy said it was my bad luck my brother was a cop. They asked me a bunch of questions about my parents, you, and your family.”
“What about my family?” Cait felt guilty for being impatient. Julius was recovering from a terrible ordeal.
“Where they live, how many there are. I told them they lived on a reservation outside of Albuquerque.”
“In Zuni?” A frisson of dread zapped her like an electric shock. She hoped he hadn’t been specific. Besides Zuni, the Laguna and Acoma Pueblos and the Tohajilee and Ramah Navajo reservations lay west of Albuquerque.
“I said they were from Isleta. Didn’t want to put them on to you.” The Isleta Pueblo sprawled south of Albuquerque.
“Thank you.” Cait knew her family‘s whereabouts could be traced through the internet. The articles she’d written last year for the Albuquerque Star mentioned her dad as one of several well-known Native jewelers whose work had been copied by an overseas factory, the imitations wholesaled to New Mexico retailers by con artist Jerry Fleming.
“What about my brother?” Her worries turned to Chris.
“I said he was at school back east.”
“That should confuse them for a while.” Cait wondered how soon Para’s people would figure out Chris was now a law enforcement park ranger at Saguaro National Park in Tucson.
“Call me or Jack if you need anything.” She set a new cell phone and charger on his bedside table. “You’ve got unlimited voice and data.”
“Thank you. I’ve been a jerk.” Julius sounded remorseful, either from guilt or the effects of medication.
“Está bien. Call your brother. He’s worried about you.” On her way out, she stopped by the nursing station again. “Julius Gallegos may be a target,” she said to a stout, gruff-looking woman in scrubs.
“Care to elaborate?” The nurse cocked an eyebrow.
Cait told her Julius had been kidnapped and beaten up by a gang. “Besides the police, no one knows he’s here except me, his family and a girlfriend. The police have refused to put a guard by his room. That could be a problem. You might want to alert security here about his situation.”
“Thanks for telling us. I can’t believe the cops would risk an incident here and endanger our patients and staff.” The nurse pulled up Julius’ chart, jotted a note inside and circled it with red ink. “I’ll talk to my supervisor and our security people. We sure don’t want any trouble.”
Cait hurried back to the parking garage. Jack was in Albuquerque beefing up security for his parents. She needed to do the same in Zuni.
What if Julius’ captors went after her folks next? She’d never forgive herself if something happened to them.
If she left now, she’d be at the pueblo in a little over six hours. Her main reason for staying in Tucson was to help Fern and Clark Bush recover from the financial and emotional damage inflicted by Rod Stone, aka Jerry Fleming. The scammer was in lockup facing a host of charges, including murder and aggravated assault. The Bushes now had a social worker checking in with them at their new apartment, so Cait felt better about leaving town for a while.
Another worry nagged at her. Chris could be in danger if the gang members who’d tracked her and Jack to Tucson knew about his isolated residence in Saguaro National Park East.
He answered her call right away. “What’s up?”
“We’ve got a situation.” She told him that Julius’ assailants had asked about the Gallegos and Zapata families. “I’m worried about you. You know about that tracking device we found under my Jeep. Whoever put it there could show up at your place.”
Chris shrugged off her concern. “If I need to, I can call Arthur and Estrella Reynolds. They offered to put me up at their home when I told them about Julius being abducted. If things don’t get resolved soon, I’ll stay elsewhere. Although I really like living out here.”
“Please take them up on their offer.” She told him she was heading back to New Mexico that afternoon. “I want to look in on our parents.”
“Let tribal police know what’s going on.” Chris said. “One good thing is that our parents’ place is tricky for outsiders to find. There aren’t any street signs or house numbers. I’m more worried about Jack and his folks. They’re right in the middle of gang central.”