Sworn to Protect (12 page)

Chapter 20

What wholly takes possession of the mind is said to fill it.

Joseph Thayer

Alex whistled his own version of “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah” through his morning shower, the makings of his cheese omelet deluxe, his truck ride to the hospital, and on to pick up the charts on his patients. “My, oh my, what a wonderful date.”

Dr. Sanderson, a bald pediatrician, peered up from his bifocals and his own patients’ charts. “What’s got you in such a great mood on a Wednesday morning?”

Alex grinned. “I had a fabulous evening.”

Sanderson moaned. “Must be a woman. Take a word of advice from a man who’s been down that road three times and hit all the potholes. Don’t.”

“I’m not thinking marriage after one date.” Actually, the thought had crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“Doctors keep crazy hours, and women want all that attention stuff. Oh, they like the money, which helps them deal with the pain of divorce and the settlement.”

The cynical pediatrician. Alex hoped he had more optimism when dealing with his pint-size patients. “Her job is as busy as mine.”

Sanderson offered a grim smile. “You might have a fighting chance. Two ships passing in the night have less opportunity to collide.” He wagged a finger at Alex. “I’ve been through enough women and lawyers to know I’m never going to tie that noose around my neck again.”

Alex sorted through his files to keep his mirth in check. “I’ll keep your advice in mind.” His failed marriage corroded last night’s memories.

“From the look on your face, it’s probably too late. Good luck, old man. Consider yourself warned. Experience has spoken.”

As much as Alex was afraid to admit it, Sanderson was right. It was too late. Danika had made a huge dent in his heart. He liked her wit, her gorgeous blue-gray eyes, her guts, her laughter that was almost a giggle. Oh, he liked everything about her. She even liked stuffed jalapeños. Wow, they could share heartburn together.

Strange, though. Her housekeeper and nanny was an undocumented immigrant. He recognized Sandra as a woman Toby had brought into the hospital for treatment not long before his friend had been killed, and Toby only brought undocumented people for medical care. Alex was also aware of her connection with Cira Ramos. He was certain Danika would lose her job if the Border Patrol learned the truth about Sandra’s status.

Alex glanced through his files, noting how each patient had spent the night and their response to hospital care and scheduled treatment. Another cup of coffee would be nice. He headed to the cafeteria and allowed his mind to drift back to last night. . . .

Driving Danika home, he hadn’t been quite ready to let go of the evening.

“I’d like to see you again,” he’d said. Bluntness had always been one of his headline characteristics. She’d admitted to the same when she’d brought in Rita.

“Before I respond, let me tell you about my schedule.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Alex had an idea from Toby, but he wanted to hear it from Danika. She’d mentioned it before, and it obviously was a concern to her. Besides, he hadn’t decided when would be the opportune moment to tell her about how he knew Toby.

“You told me about your friendship with Chief Jimenez, but let me remind you I work ten-hour shifts five days a week. When I’m on days, it’s not so bad. I’m home around six. But I’m a devoted mother. Tiana requires so much attention, not only because of her physical challenges but also because I’m the only parent.”

“I understand the demands of your job and raising a daughter by yourself. I may not have a child to rear, but I can be called to the hospital at any time.”

She nodded. “Weekends are not an option for me. Sometimes I get a Saturday or Sunday off, but rarely. Then every four to six months, my shift changes to either four to midnight or nights. During those months, what little time I have is filled with work, sleep, and being a mommy. Without Sandra, I’m lost.”

“Ed’s relayed the problems of crazy hours and the shift changes.”

“I want you to understand I don’t have a normal job.”

“And neither do I.” He stopped at a red light. “So is your answer a yes?”

She paused, and Alex counted the seconds. “I’d like to see you again too. I guess as long as we understand the demands of each other’s careers and my love for Tiana, then we can arrange our schedules the best we can.”

“Deal.”

“One more thing. My neighbors don’t know I’m a Border Patrol agent. I change into my uniform at the station and change back at the end of my shift. It’s simply not smart, and those who have illegals in their families and friends would not appreciate what I do. Tiana or Sandra could be a target for their aversion toward the BP.”

“I’ll keep it to myself.”

“Thanks.” Again she paused, and again he counted the seconds. “I have a serious question. You’re a doctor at a hospital that treats anyone and everyone, no questions asked. Are you a pro-immigration activist?”

Alex expected this, but not on the first date. “I’m committed to healing every person who is in need of medical attention. I am also a U.S. citizen and believe our laws are in place for a purpose—to be obeyed.” He started to add he and Toby had been friends, and they had shared genuine sympathy and compassion for the hardworking undocumented immigrants, but they didn’t always agree on the manner in which to help them. Alex opened his mouth to speak, then changed his mind. His and Toby’s relationship could be discussed at another time. The discussion would take some time, especially the parts about his and Toby’s differences.

“I respect your views.”

“So, we can do this again?”

She lifted her chin and slowly nodded. “I believe we can.”

And he’d been like a frog on a lily pad ever since.

* * *

Jacob shoved the trash can aside. Tears poured from his eyes while the vomit soaked the contents of the trash. His pulse pounded in his head and heat rose to his face. He wanted to wrap his hands around the neck of whoever had done this atrocity to his little girl. He’d kill them and enjoy every minute of it.

“What’s in the box?” Herrera’s voice echoed around him.

Jacob couldn’t respond. Curses and vows took root, but the words rose and died in his throat, while the world around him spun in an eerie gyration.

“Oh no,” Herrera whispered. “Morales, what do you know about this?”

Again, Jacob attempted to speak. He covered his face, willing the image of Nadine’s finger to vanish. And for the first time in months, he wished Barbara were there to help him.
No, I wouldn’t want to put her through this.
Yet he needed her. He couldn’t bear facing this alone.

“It’s my daughter.”

Herrera slammed the door shut and scraped a chair close to Jacob. “Are you sure? Let’s call her.”

Jacob shook his head. “She’s been missing for ten days.”

“Have you received a ransom note?”

“No. She ran off. Police can’t find her.”

“I’m going after Jimenez.”

Jacob’s chest ached as though his heart would burst. He peered at Herrera. “Why?”

“You don’t need to go through this alone, Morales. Not this.” Herrera stood. “Stay right here.” He glanced at the shoe box. “Let me take that.”

“No!” Jacob’s voice bounced off the walls of the small room. “It belongs to my little girl.” For a moment, he thought he’d be sick again. A grown man was supposed to be in control. But the grounds for his demotion to filing papers were that he couldn’t control himself.

Herrera leaned toward Jacob. “I’d want to kill someone too.” He picked up the desk phone and punched in four digits, an interoffice number. “Sir, got a critical situation with Jacob Morales. Need you here.”

“I’ll kill whoever has done this,” Jacob said. “I’ll not rest until he’s dead.”

Chapter 21

A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies.

Oscar Wilde

“Are you doing better now?” Jimenez sat across from Jacob.

“I think so.” The box sat between them with the lid firmly affixed. He couldn’t let it out of his sight. Rationality seemed to have left him. “I . . . apologize for—”

Jimenez waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Your kids are fingerprinted, right?”

“You’re thinking of tapping into the database for a positive ID?”

“You need to know for sure about this. What if this isn’t your daughter?”

Numb with grief, Jacob grasped on to a lifeline of hope. “I don’t know how it could not be hers. The ring is the one I gave her.” He hadn’t considered this as someone’s revolting joke.

“Desperate people have desperate means to scare us. Let’s walk this to the operations intelligence area and check it out.”

Jacob listened, but he physically hurt. “You’re right.” He took a deep breath so he could stand. Cradling the box in his hand, he fought the dizziness to clear his head. “How will I ever tell Barbara?”

“Maybe you won’t have to. We’ll have the results in a matter of minutes. Are you sure you want to watch me do this?”

“I have to.”

The minutes ticked by in Jimenez’s office, slow and painful. Jacob couldn’t see how the finger could not belong to Nadine. Even though Jimenez was discreet in running the fingerprint, the nightmare of opening the box repeated and clawed at his heart.

“Praise God,” Jimenez whispered. He released the mouse and clenched his fist. He turned the computer screen for Jacob to see the results. “It’s not your daughter, Jacob. There isn’t a match for this fingerprint.”

He ached with relief. But it was true. That horrible appendage did not belong to his Naddie. So whose daughter was minus a finger? And how did these people get his daughter’s ring? A notion so evil, so horrible, swept through him. What kind of people held his Nadine? . . . Or who had she gotten mixed up with?

* * *

Thursday night Danika walked through her quiet house. Tiana and Sandra were asleep, and she had her home all to herself. Soft classical music played in the background, and she flitted here and there putting nondescript things in place: a book turned to look more appealing on the coffee table, a flipped sofa pillow. She inhaled the roses Alex had sent and admired the balloon and cookie bouquet delivered to Tiana . . . and she continued to think about all that had happened to her and her family.

She’d have a full agenda to discuss with Shannon.

Danika believed God was in control. Her rededication had cemented that, but the trials plaguing her and those she loved seemed insurmountable. In the days following his death, she’d been obsessed with the investigation. Then she realized being Tiana’s mommy had to take precedence.

The problem with Jacob had only grown worse. His very career might soon disappear along with his wife and children. A buzz was astir at the station, and she wondered how long before the investigation for the rogue agent would be completed. She heard the murmurings; many suspected Jacob. The mere thought seemed incomprehensible. The other agents didn’t know about Nadine, and she wasn’t the one to tell them. Then again, would it make a difference?

Nadine. Where are you, honey?
The girl needed to come home or, at the very minimum, contact her mother.

Danika’s cell phone rang. She looked for the caller, but it read as a private ID. Odd, because she guarded her cell phone number and cautiously gave it to only a few people whom she could trust. Perhaps it was a random sales call. When it rang the third time, she answered it.

“Evening, Danika. Looks like it’s quiet at your house. Everyone in bed?”

“Who is this?”

“A messenger. Do you want to know who the rogue agent is at the station?”

“Only a coward refuses to give his name.”

He chuckled. “You play a good game.”

“If you can’t tell me who you are, I’m not interested.”

“Sure you are. You’re a curious woman.”

“How did you get this number?” She paced the living room.

“I have my means.”

“Forget it—”

“Ah, I wouldn’t hang up if I were you. Your job’s on the line, and you know it. So listen up. Jacob is selling you out. He’s making big money working for the drug cartels and smuggling guns on both sides of the border.”

“You’re a liar.” Danika searched through the archives of her mind to name the accuser, but the database was blank.

“Oh, am I? There’s more. Jacob killed Toby. Your husband discovered what Jacob was doing and tried to stop him. Took a bullet to Toby’s head to silence him. And it worked. Don’t you agree?”

“You’re sick, and I intend to report you.”

“And what would you say? Who do you think is next on Jacob’s list? He’s furious with his demotion, and guess what? He can’t give my people sensor numbers any longer. He blames you. He thinks you went to the supes with your suspicions about who may have killed Toby. He also thinks you’re feeding information to Barbara—and that’s why his marriage and family are falling apart. Maybe next time I’ll tell you what happened to Naddie. You’re next, Danika Kathleen Morales.”

Danika disconnected the call. Trembling and trying to remember how to breathe, she stared at her cell phone. Where had the caller gotten his information? He sounded . . . as though he knew her intimately. As though he’d read her mind and knew her heart. Who could it be? No one had been privileged to her innermost fears, that Jacob could have sold out the Border Patrol. Barbara had mentioned he’d been depositing extra money into their savings account. He refused to tell her where it had come from, and Danika had no idea how much money was involved.

Jacob would not have killed Toby. Never. That was a lie, something she’d never contemplated. Jacob and Toby loved each other. They may have disagreed about politics, religion, and Border Patrol policies, but not enough to instigate murder. And what did happen to Nadine?

She attempted to swallow the lump in her throat. Threats on her life had happened before, but not by anyone who had access to her cell phone number or knew her middle name. Fear rippled through her with an icy chill. If this person had gone to the trouble of obtaining personal information, then he had her home address. Dare she phone Jimenez and relay the phone call? It meant implicating Jacob, and his career already teetered on extinction.

She allowed the germ of Jacob’s involvement with Toby’s death to take root in her again. Could Jacob have feigned being the caring brother-in-law out of guilt after Toby died? For the first time in her career, Danika wondered if resigning was the best solution.

Burying her face in her hands, she prayed for guidance. Sensing the presence of someone else, she glanced up at Tiana.

“I can’t sleep, Mommy,” she signed.

Danika opened her arms to the one human being she cherished the most. Tiana had lost her daddy, and Danika owed her child a future with a mommy. The little girl crawled up onto her lap.

“Mommy shaking?” Tiana did not experience the often-obtrusive sounds of the hearing world, but she could pick up on emotions and touch.

“Mommy is fine. Why don’t you sit here on my lap until you can go back to sleep?”

Tiana lay her head on Danika’s chest and closed her eyes. Holding her daughter tightly, she realized what must be done. She owed her daughter and the Border Patrol the knowledge of what had transpired, and with that realization, she punched in Jimenez’s number. He answered on the second ring.

“This is Danika Morales. I just received a threatening phone call on my private cell phone, and I thought you should be told.”

“I’m listening.”

When she finished, she waited for his response.

“Have you talked to Jacob or his wife?”

“No, sir.”

“I ask you to keep this information to yourself. Today, Jacob received a shoe box containing a human finger. He thought it was his daughter’s finger because of a ring he’d given her.”

Danika forced herself to breathe. Criminals did base things, but this went beyond sick. “You said ‘thought.’”

“We did a fingerprint check and learned it was not Nadine Morales. But the fact remains she’s missing, and someone obtained her ring.”

She attempted to control her quivering body for the sake of Tiana curled up on her lap. What was happening to her family?