Dawn outlined the Manzanos with a pink glow by the time a taxi arrived at the convenience store. Cait fell asleep en route, lulled by the warmth of a heater and the security of Jack’s shoulder.
The cab dropped them off at his parents’ house. They stumbled through the gate and knocked on the side door. A mortified Eloy Gallegos let them in. “We were so worried when you never returned. All our calls went to voice mail.”
Lorena gathered them in her arms, insisting the two should be rushed to an emergency room.
“I need to use your phone first,” Jack said. “Then we’ll see.”
He alerted the Valencia County Sheriff’s Department, Los Lunas police and other agencies about what he’d seen at the Para ranch, and what had happened to him. He figured Albuquerque police would get wind of any law enforcement activity at the compound. He wouldn’t bother calling Mac Spitzer or others in his chain of command. It was pretty clear where Spitzer’s loyalties lay.
Cait didn’t remember falling into bed. When she opened her eyes that afternoon, Jack was waking up too. They wobbled to the kitchen, where they sipped coffee with his parents.
While Jack’s parents grilled him about what had happened, Cait took her phone into the living room.
Her brother had left several messages, each one more distressed.
Now Chris answered right away. “What’s going on? What didn’t you call me?”
“Things got crazy last night. Sorry I didn’t get back to you.” She gave him a short version of events at the Para ranch.
Chris interrupted. “Thank God you two are ok. You know what? Now I’m having jaguar dreams. Last night I dreamed men were hunting you and a spotted cat. ”
“First Estrella and now you. After we escaped, we heard roaring from up in the hills above the ranch. That cat got away. But it might be injured.”
“I’m off the next few days. I’ll drive to Albuquerque and you can take me out there. You didn’t happen to get any photos of it?”
“No. And I’m not going near that compound. Anyway, that jaguar could be anywhere by now. It’s probably way up in the Manzanos where no one can find it. If it survived.”
“We’ll stay away from the ranch. I know someone who can help look for it. I’m so thankful you and Jack are ok. See you soon.”
“Drive safely.” Cait ended the call, thinking her brother was guilty of wishful thinking. The jaguar might be seriously hurt. And it would be almost impossible to track down.
She looked up as Jack entered the room. “I’ve got to get some answers. I’m going to walk into Spitzer’s office and see how he reacts.”
“What if he’s a good poker player?” She asked.
“Then we stop by internal affairs. He can’t explain away what happened after you called him.”
“You’re not going there alone.”
“It’s best I handle this myself.” Jack made a move toward the door.
“No way, Jose. I’ll be a witness. I want to see what he says. That loser tried to have both of us killed.” Purse slung on her shoulder, Cait followed him outside.
“Okay. But I’ll do the talking. He’s my boss.”
***
Albuquerque sparkled under bright sunshine and clear blue skies. Jack drove to APD headquarters while Cait rode shotgun, taking in the urban skyline and the dramatic uplift of the Sandias in the east. The mountains looked indistinct, distance obscuring soaring cliffs and granite towers topped by fir and pine.
She craved the solace of wilderness, if only for a short time. The night before she’d been pushed to the breaking point. Lack of sleep, physical strain, and mental trauma had left her loopy and disoriented, too much for even strong coffee to fix.
Then there was the sense they were running headlong into a catastrophe.
Jack could damage his career by accusing Mac Spitzer, a seasoned police captain, of being in Sonny Para’s pocket. It all depended on what internal affairs concluded.
If Spitzer was able to weasel his way out of allegations, Jack would face tough times at work. He’d never be able to trust his boss again, and would wind up leaving the Albuquerque PD.
Now he turned into a lot next to police headquarters and parked the jeep in a secured area reserved for law enforcement.
The couple walked side by side up the front steps of the station’s main entrance and stopped at the glassed-in reception counter. Cait showed her ID and signed for a visitor’s pass.
“Why not talk to internal affairs first?” she asked during an elevator ride to the second floor.
“I want to confront him first. See what the asshole does.” Jack was ready for battle.
As they entered the investigative section, his battered face caught more than a few stares. Cait felt like yelling to release stress hormones roiling around her system. Jack remained unruffled. Good thing I’m not the cop here, she thought.
Spitzer’s door was closed. Jack rapped on the wood. Chair springs squealed as someone moved about. Spitzer opened the door and did a double take upon seeing Jack.
“I hope the other guy looks worse.”
“Do you really?” Jack moved inside quickly, Cait right behind, the two forcing Spitzer to back up.
Cait froze up. Jack was primed for a face off.
“I can see you’re upset. Talk to me. What happened?” Spitzer retreated to his chair behind the desk.
“You know damn well what happened. Cait called you last night asking for help at Para’s ranch. You let him know he had company. You know how long ex-cops last in prison.” Jack’s eyes blazed.
“Jack.” Cait telegraphed him a warning look. He was treading on quicksand.
“Now I’m starting to get offended.” Spitzer crossed his arms. “First of all, you never called me. I think I would know if I talked to you. Obviously you have a right to be pissed, but not at me.”
“That your phone?” Cait poked her chin at Spitzer’s desk. “Let’s review the incoming calls around midnight.”
Spitzer reddened. He snatched up the cell and tapped at it, bringing up a list of calls received. Cait stepped next to him and peered at the screen. “There it is. My number. You answered and told me to stay put.”
“No way. I never talked to you. I think I would remember.” The captain raised his voice, glancing from Cait to Jack.
“Oh yeah? Where were you?” Jack balled his fists, his glare white hot.
“Right here. Stuck here late because we had a spate of drive-by shootings. Three kids shot, all critical. One of our units thought they’d traced the shooters to a house near the fairgrounds.” Spitzer looked hard at Jack and Cait. “Wait a minute.”
“Got all day,” Jack said.
“I had people in and out of my office late last night. There was a lot going on.” His expression soured. “You’re not going to believe me, are you?”
“There are cameras on all floors, covering the doors and halls. Internal affairs can look into that. Who all was in here?” Jack asked.
“Ron Peppler. Cory Marsdon and Tony Archuleta from the drug and gang task force. Not all together but at different times. Of course, there’s no camera in here.”
“Did you leave anyone alone in your office at any time?” Cait interrupted.
The captain tapped his chin with a finger. “Not for long. I did run out for coffee and the restroom.”
“What did he say when you called?” Jack asked Cait.
She looked at Spitzer. “You were short with me. Rude, dismissive.”
“What do you mean?”
“All you said was ‘yeah’ when you answered. You didn’t identify yourself.”
Spitzer seemed fixated by a spot on his desk. “What did you call about?”
“Surely you remember. I told you Jack was in danger.” Cait wanted to grab him by his collar and smack him.
“And what was my response?”
“ ‘Stay put’ was all you said. Then you hung up.”
“I know you don’t believe me, but I never talked to you. Are you positive it was my number you called?”
“I’m not an idiot.” Cait gave him a black look. “That’s my number on your call log.”
“If you didn’t answer your phone, someone else did. And you know who. Or you can figure it out.” Jack took a step forward.
“Look, I’m on your side. But I don’t think you believe me. If I’m guilty of anything, it’s negligence for leaving my phone unattended on my desk. I tend to trust the men, the people I work with.” Mac glanced at Cait. “Too much, it seems.”
Jack considered this. “No offense, I’m still talking to internal affairs. They can chase down Para’s stooge, sift through bank accounts, phone records, the works.”
“I need to talk to them too. I don’t blame you for blaming me. Is there anything I can do?” Spitzer gave a slight shrug.
“I’ll let you know.” Jack backed away. Cait followed him out and closed the door behind them. Jack put his ear to it, hoping to catch Spitzer making a call. But it was quiet inside. If his boss was rotten, it wouldn’t be easy to prove. If he had warned Para, he would have used an untraceable burner phone, not his own device.
What if I’m wrong? Jack thought. What if someone else really had picked up Spitzer’s phone, as he claimed? The odds seemed unlikely, but then again . . . He remembered Ron Peppler’s abrasiveness in Mac Spitzer’s office days ago. Maybe I’ve had blinders on. Enemies sometimes hide in plain sight.