Sworn to Protect (19 page)

Chapter 35

Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.

Leo Tolstoy

Sunday morning, Alex swung his crutches down the hospital corridor. He was well aware the patients could hear the dull thuds of his approach.

No word existed in human language that touched how Alex felt about his mother’s intrusion into his private life.
Mortified
was a good beginning. He tried to tell himself his mom meant well, and yes, her plan provided a safe place for Tiana. But he felt like a junior high kid whose mommy had marched to school to defend him against the bullies. Except Danika was far from a bully. She had every right to be furious after his failure to be honest with her. But he was a man, and he had his pride, and he sensed there would never be reconciliation with her. He’d rather she envision him as a caveman protector who’d fight to his death defending her. Nothing in medical school prepared him for a mother who took life’s problems head-on or a Border Patrol agent who had stolen his heart or a pint-size angel who had him in the palm of her hand.

Women.
This went far beyond textbook bedside manner.

Still dressed in a shirt and tie from church, Alex continued to hobble through his patient visits with a determination to nix his frustrations. He enjoyed checking on his patients after worship. High on Jesus and high on the gift of healing, why not reach out to see if he could make a difference in someone’s life?

Cira’s little boy, Mickey, had responded to the treatment and medication for the pneumonia, but not as quickly as Alex desired. He’d explained to Cira that her son was very ill. She’d delayed seeking medical care and sacrificed the strength he needed to fight the fever and illness. Alex had little tolerance for parents who allowed children to suffer, especially when the care at McAllen Medical Center was free.

Alex stepped into the pediatric section to find Mickey sleeping and Cira’s face pinched with concern.

“Shouldn’t he be better by now?” She adjusted the light coverlet around his body.

“He
is
better.” Alex studied the chart one more time, then the IV level. “Remember, Cira, we talked about this. Your son will be fine, but it’ll take a little while.”

“I understand.” She looked pale, thin, and exhausted.

“Are you working, taking care of your grandfather, and attempting to spend every possible moment at the hospital?”

She nodded and fingered a small cross around her neck. “He is my life, my heart. I wonder if I’m not praying right.”

Alex leaned his crutches against the back of Mickey’s bed and eased into a chair next to her. “You’re carrying far too many burdens. God hears your prayers. Be sure of that.” He gestured toward Mickey. “And your son is making progress. In a few days, he’ll be scrambling to get out of that bed and play.”

She smiled through damp lashes. “I pray so.”

“Me too.” Alex took a breath. Another matter needed to be discussed. “Cira, the police are looking for the woman who fronted your money to cross the border. They have enough evidence to bring her in for questioning, specifically for running an illegal operation and abusing other women.”

“I can’t risk being sent back. Someone might take my son since he’s a citizen.”

An anchor child . . . at the heart of the problem for so many undocumented immigrants. “If you were escorted back across the border, Mickey would go with you. He’d still retain his citizenship so that when he was old enough, he could return to the U.S.”

“I want to raise him here.” She set her lips, but Alex refused to give up.

“I’ve treated young women who’ve been beaten and then dropped off here at the hospital. One had lost a finger. None will name their abuser. They hadn’t been raped, and there were no signs of drugs in their system. Is this a part of the same operation?”

Cira sighed. “Possibly. But that’s all I can tell you. She’s a mean woman, a devil. I don’t care about myself, but she’d hurt my son.”

Mickey stirred, and she glanced his way. Love filled her face with a special light that only a mother possessed. “You see, when we agreed to have her front half of our money, we were told that if we got pregnant, the baby would be aborted. No argument. I’ve seen what she has done to other women who didn’t obey her.”

“Don’t you want it stopped so she can go to jail?”

“What is worse, Dr. Alex? Running from her or being deported? As far as the other women trapped here, they have to stay put until their debt is paid. Here we have a chance to provide a better life for our families. They know one day it will be over. No one wants to risk being caught by the Border Patrol.”

“I think one young woman died because of her,” he finally said. “But she’d been raped.”

Her face paled. “I’m not surprised. Before Toby was killed, he . . . ”

“What? Did Toby know this woman you won’t identify?”

“I’m not saying anything else. It’s too dangerous.”

Alex reluctantly stood to examine Mickey. Later he’d process what little information Cira had given him. A name, if only she’d give him a name. For the first time, Alex realized that Toby might have met the woman Cira feared. But the murder hadn’t been solved, and Cira might be the one to supply the missing link. She may already know who murdered Toby.

But first Alex had to convince her to trust him. Like another female he knew.

Chapter 36

Too long a sacrifice

Can make a stone of the heart.

O when may it suffice?

William Butler Yeats

Sandra watched Tiana splash in a small, blue plastic pool under a covered area in the backyard. Danika had thought of everything when she hired a landscaper to turn the oversize yard into a play area that shielded the little girl from the sun. Every piece of equipment was in the shade or under a constructed overhang. Hanging plants, flowering shrubbery, and trees also invited adults to relax. This was what Sandra needed today.

She never imagined leaving Danika and Tiana, but Lucy’s continual demands for Border Patrol information had not given her much choice. The guilt of how she’d lied to Danika seemed to mount daily. In the wee hours of the morning, she realized that even her friendship and love for Danika and Tiana were based on lies. The fact made her a user, as though she were hooked on cocaine.

No, I’m a better person than that. Love is what God calls us to do, and I love this country and my adopted family.
If only her documents were legitimate.

“I have information for you,” Lucy had said. “Something that will persuade you to do what I ask. My messenger will arrive in about thirty minutes.”

Sandra wanted to take Tiana and leave the house, but what good would that do? Lucy had spies, and she always learned things. In times like these, Sandra wished someone would find a way to rid them all of Lucy.

The moments ticked by while she rocked back and forth on the glider. Tiana’s laughter usually calmed Sandra’s troubled spirit, but not today. Uneasiness slithered up her spine with a chill at her nape that scoffed at her apprehension. She guessed Danika would agree to Karen Price’s offer, which meant Sandra would accompany Tiana to San Antonio on Wednesday morning. Oh, time played the advocate in balancing her devotion to Danika and Tiana with Lucy’s demands.

A black Ford pickup pulled into the driveway, a new truck. Each wheel probably cost the same as what she earned in a month. A young Hispanic man exited the vehicle and looked around.

She gasped. Jose was her messenger? He must have sold his soul to Lucy for that truck. Surely not. She swallowed hard. Maybe he agreed to do whatever she asked without knowing what Lucy would expect of him. Her messengers did all of her dirty work, whatever it took to keep Lucy’s girls in line . . . whatever it took to get the job done.

Tiana squealed, capturing Jose’s attention. He walked toward the gate and spotted Sandra. When she failed to move his way, he let himself in and joined her on the glider. Tiana appeared oblivious to him as she continued pouring water over a small paddleboat.

“You weren’t expecting me.” Not a trace of a smile laced his words.

“Is this how you’re getting your documentation papers?” Sandra hoped he couldn’t hear her heart hammer against her chest.

“It’s my chance to have everything I want.”

“At what price?”

“Whatever it takes.”

Sandra rubbed her arms and remembered, the truth making her ill. “You were working for Lucy when you came to see me the first time.”

“Did you think I’d really want you? I can have any woman I want.”

She tried to ignore the knife twisting in her heart. No, her very soul. “You were looking for information when I found you in Danika’s room.”

“Right, and I couldn’t find a thing. Lucy has a couple of messages for you.” His whisper came out more like a hiss.

“So I heard. Why don’t you say what you came for and leave?”

He clutched her arm. “If you weren’t living here, you’d get a beating.”

“And I suppose that’s your job now?”

He chuckled. The lure of Jose turned to disgust—his dimpled grin and handsome face meant she’d been a fool. “Whatever it takes.”

“So you enjoy licking Lucy’s feet?”

He pulled a knife from his jean pocket. “I’d like nothing better than to cut your face into bite-size pieces, but Lucy needs what only you can provide. The moment she’s finished with you, I’ll track you down.”

She trembled, and his grasp on her arm tightened. “Get it over with,” she said, her words sounding more courageous than she felt.

Jose’s smile twisted into a sneer. “Don’t tempt me. I came on an errand, remember? Have you heard the latest news from near Barranquillas?”

Blood drained from Sandra’s face, and horror captured her.

“A fire destroyed the home of an elderly couple,” he said. “Perhaps you know them, Estella and Pedro Rodriguez? Unfortunately they died in the blaze. I hear the church can’t find a thing but charred bones to bury.” He flipped open the cover to his cell phone and showed her a picture of the charred remains of her parents and their home.

Acid rose to her throat, and her stomach churned. She knew every inch of her parents’ home, a shack to some, but it was where laughter and love had lived. Jose had captured it all on his phone—in ashes.

“Oh, and here’s another one so you don’t think I’m lying.” He displayed a second picture, showing the neighbor’s house.

Unfathomable grief attached its claws to her body. Lucy had threatened her parents, but murder? Paralyzed, she struggled to respond to him. “Both of you are animals.”

He lifted a brow. “Are we? Lucy thinks they won’t be needing medicine any longer. She thought this might persuade you to get what she needs.”

The sensors’ locations.
Sandra shivered. “I’ll do what I can and have it for you on Thursday morning. She’s off on Tuesday and Wednesday, but I don’t know if she carries the information with her.”

“You better hope she does.” He slipped the knife back into his pocket and released her arm. “Don’t be putting us off, or I’ll let you personally witness what we plan to do next.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Jose stood from the glider and watched Tiana, who had yet to be interrupted in her water play. “I’ve been thinking. The kid can’t hear, so she doesn’t need one of those ears.” He left Sandra sitting on the glider and Tiana playing in the water.

The little girl watched him leave and waved as though he were a friend.

Emotion bubbled in Sandra’s throat and unleashed in grief she didn’t know existed. Memories of a little girl who adored her father and cherished her mother surfaced and faded one after another. Her parents hadn’t done anything to deserve this horrible death but wish her a good life and pray for her.

Sandra glanced at her precious Tiana. She’d persuade Danika to send Tiana with Karen Price on Wednesday—away from this madness. And if that didn’t work, she’d tell Danika the truth . . . all of it. Even what she knew about Toby’s death. Then she’d run to where Lucy or Jose or the Border Patrol would never find her.

She couldn’t even attend her own parents’ funeral.

* * *

Danika pulled into the parking lot at the Hidalgo station for her quarterly weapons qualification. Today she’d recertify the use of her assigned HK handgun, a shotgun, and an M4 assault rifle, and she’d need to pass all three. As usual, she was nervous, and she’d been an agent for over eight years. The latest news report along the border told of Mexican police seizing a machine gun that had the ability to pierce steel up to a mile away—U.S.–made, of course. Citizens and undocumented immigrants alike worried about the cartel marching into border states with their limitless supply of money and weaponry.

Positioning earplugs in her ears, she stepped up to the target with the handgun. Fortunately she’d never killed a man. Came close a few times with drug smugglers. They didn’t have much to lose by gunning down a Border Patrol agent, and gang leaders scored extra points for killing agents.

Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind of everything but the task before her. Concentration and determination took precedence. Her senses numbed except for focusing on the target, Danika took aim and squeezed the trigger.

Several minutes later, she removed the earplugs, satisfied with the results in all three weapons.

With the pressure gone, she relaxed and headed to her assigned truck. A huge decision needled her, and she needed to call Karen Price one way or the other. If Tiana and Sandra left on Wednesday with Karen, then her little girl deserved to know the changes about to occur in her life. Another meeting should be arranged with Karen so Tiana would feel comfortable. She’d always been a sociable child, but this was a stretch. And what about Sandra? Danika chose not to think of her refusing to go. The mere thought of coming home to an empty house each day was overwhelming.

Oh, God, Tiana is my light. Tell me what to do. I want her safe, but sending her to San Antonio frightens me.

Danika wanted to know what God advised now, and the drive home would offer a bit of quiet for His response.

“Hey, Crack Shot, you did good out there.”

Danika recognized Felipe’s voice behind her. What a great guy, and just what she needed today. Grinning, she stopped until he caught up. “Did it scare you enough to stop teasing me about my softball finesse?”

“For sure. I’m writing my apology tonight.”

“Sign it in blood. I want to post it for the rest of the guys who are still laughing.”

“I’ll think about it.” He sobered. “Are you okay?”

Did she wear her anxiety like a shoulder patch? “Most of the time.”

“That’s a good, honest answer. I mean, with Jacob gone and the shooting and the wondering if the chief is finished with his investigation.”

Danika didn’t believe in signs—except for footprints and empty Red Bull cans—but the dilemma with Tiana was making her crazy. She desperately craved advice. Karen had checked out to be everything she claimed. “You’re my friend, right?”

“For the five years I’ve been here. And you introduced me to Becca.”

She hesitated, then drew in a breath. “I’m thinking about sending Tiana and Sandra away for a little while. The shooting scared me.”

He nodded. “Do it.”

Could she trust him? “No questions or an advantage and disadvantage list?”

“Nope. Someone tried to kill you. Your husband was murdered two years ago. Jacob’s been fired, and he’s mad at the world. His daughter’s missing. I don’t know what’s going on in your life, but I’d have already hidden Tiana someplace far away from this mess.”

She had her answer.