Sworn to Protect (8 page)

Chapter 11

Whoever gives to the poor will lack nothing, but those who close their eyes to poverty will be cursed.

Proverbs 28:27

Alex squeezed his truck into the elementary school parking lot’s last available slot labeled Visitors. This morning he’d be a part of a community project offering free medical checkups and vaccinations to all those elementary-age kids entering school in approximately one month. A number of free clinics in the city offered the same services, but his understanding was that here some of the teachers would be on hand to meet the kids and talk to parents. Other professionals had volunteered their time to administer dental exams and free hearing and vision screenings, and a local TV station was giving away backpacks filled with school supplies. Already the school’s entrance swarmed with kids and parents. The white Channel 5 TV van sat next to the curb, its microwave antenna raised high in the clear sky and pointed toward the station.

He smiled at the gray-haired woman sitting beside him in his truck, a retired nurse who worked harder as a volunteer than she had done for a paycheck. With her hair brushed back into a ponytail and tied with a red scarf, she looked like a picture of nostalgia, complete with a white blouse and turned-up pant legs on her jeans.

“We’ll work our tails off today, Nancy.”

“It’s not work when you’re helping families stay healthy.” She opened the passenger door and stepped down. “Get your stuff, Doc. We have a schedule to follow.”

He laughed and exited his side of the truck. “Have you thought about hitting the road with a motivational speaking tour?”

“Couldn’t pay me enough.” Nancy hoisted a shoulder bag and reached into the rear seat of the truck. She grabbed a plastic container that held the required forms, a blood pressure cuff, an otoscope, tongue depressors, a stethoscope, plenty of sharpened pencils, and a good supply of yellow smiley-face stickers. “I hope you have more balloons than the last time,” she said, then took off down the sidewalk at a fast clip without him, her typical pace.

He lifted an insulated refrigeration chest filled with vaccinations from the other side of the seat. Supporting that in one hand, he wrapped his fingers around the plastic box containing the all-in-one needles and syringes, prepackaged alcohol swabs, a red plastic container to hold used syringes,
and
additional balloons to please Nurse Nancy.

Balancing his supplies with both arms, Alex made his way up the sidewalk to the entrance. He focused on a woman and a little dark-haired girl who waited with the others to enter the school. She turned his way, and he saw it was Danika Morales—Agent Danika Morales, as Jacob had so pointedly corrected. Dare he try again to be friendly? Her rejection early Sunday morning had burst his balloon. Yet he wasn’t a quitter; he simply failed a lot when he approached women. Perhaps this time his devilish good looks and irresistible charm would persuade her to ask
him
out.

She waved, and he returned the gesture. That was a good sign. The closer he walked toward her, the bigger her smile. At least he thought so. She wore a light blue knit top and earrings to match. He had no clue why Danika Morales held him captive with just one look, but everything he’d seen in the way she handled herself and treated others spoke of integrity. When he and Toby used to talk, he bragged about his gorgeous wife and all the things she did for their family. Toby used to worry about the danger, especially when she worked nights. He should have worried about himself.

“Good morning,” she said. “Are you our resident doctor?”

“Sure am. I’m armed with disposable shots and little vials of medicine.” He glanced down at the little girl. “Oops, I shouldn’t have mentioned those.”

Danika placed an arm around the little girl’s shoulder. “She’s hearing-impaired and doesn’t read lips yet, so you’re safe.”

Odd. Toby had never mentioned this. He set the boxes on the pavement and bent to the little girl’s level. After taking a moment to give himself a refresher in sign language, he signed, “Hello. What is your name?”

She raised her gaze to her mother.

“It’s all right,” Danika signed.

The little girl signed, “Tiana.”

“Beautiful child.” Beautiful mommy too. Alex met Danika’s gaze. He saw a spark of something that didn’t look like rejection to him. “The lines should go fairly fast.”

“She’s up-to-date on her shots. I’m volunteering for the morning.”

Alex stood. “What area?”

“Assisting moms to complete the school forms. Tiana is going to help me.”

“Have her come by my section when she’s finished being your assistant, and I’ll make sure she gets a balloon and a sticker.”

Danika smiled, and he felt his knees weaken. “Go ahead and tell her yourself. Looks like your signing is pretty good.”

He bent again to Tiana’s side and told her about seeing him later. The little girl’s fingers rapidly conveyed her enthusiasm.

As much as he’d have liked to stay and talk, he needed to set up inside. Standing to face Danika one more time, he reached for a handful of courage. “I’d like to get to know you, but I understand your hesitation.” He handed her a business card. “My personal cell number is on the back. When you’re ready, let me know. All of us need a friend.”

She tilted her head, the highlights in her hair picking up the morning sunlight. “Thanks, Alex. I’ll think about it.”

Hope. What more could a man ask for?

* * *

Danika entered the two-story professional building where Dr. Shannon Perry met with her patients. The marquee read Christian Counselor, but Danika referred to her as “counselor extraordinaire.” No sarcasm entered her thoughts. Shannon had dug deep into Danika’s heart and pulled up emotional trash that should have been deposited into the dump years ago. Returning nightmares and the old feelings of poor self-worth indicated the separation from counseling had been premature.

The tall, thin woman, who wore a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and designer jeans like a runway model, greeted her with a hug. “Missed you. I’m looking forward to catching up.”

Once seated, Danika took a deep breath. She began with Tiana’s behavior problems and moved on to Jacob and Barbara’s relationship and Nadine’s disappearance, then ended with her attraction to Dr. Alex Price.

“What about your job at the Border Patrol?” Shannon’s smile was meant to relax Danika, but nervousness had caused her stomach to roll.

“It’s what keeps me sane. It’s my purpose, my call of duty. I believe I’m good at what I do.” Thoughts about Felipe and his family’s immigration troubles had bothered her all day. Commitment to keeping the borders safe didn’t come with ifs, but that didn’t mean she lacked sympathy for the miserable lot of too many would-be immigrants.

Shannon smiled. “I’m breaking open a can of Diet Coke with that one.” She slipped from her chair and opened a small refrigerator. Handing Danika a can, she studied her for a moment. “Counseling is not just for those who are having problems managing the stress in their lives. It’s for the healthy too, a validation of how we can praise God through the good and challenging times.”

“I’m journaling and keeping a list of God’s blessings.” Danika flipped the tab on the can. “However, my relationship with Him is not what it used to be.”

“Still angry?”

Danika nodded. “Guess I need to get over it and move on.” For over a year she’d attempted to put aside the many times she asked why He had to take Toby from her and Tiana. By the time she stood face-to-face with God, why Toby had betrayed her and been murdered wouldn’t matter. At least that is what she kept telling herself.

Shannon leaned toward Danika. “Talk to me about your anger and grief. That’s the only way you’ll find the peace you so desperately crave.”

Danika agreed, but it was so painful to discuss the feelings she’d shoved to a remote corner of her heart.

“I understand the difficulty in talking about these issues, and I want to help. The nightmares will continue to haunt you until you are able to let it go.”

“And that’s why I’m here.” Danika heard the resolve in her own words and knew she must be transparent in order to heal. “I want to move on with my life.” She shivered. “I’m ready to take the next step.”

Chapter 12

There is nothing—no circumstances, no trouble, no testing—that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has come past God and Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with a great purpose.

Alan Redpath

Jacob had to get back to work. The flu had kicked his rear, and the drain on him physically and mentally only served to depress him even more. By Thursday afternoon he decided dying couldn’t be any worse than sitting on the toilet and throwing up in a trash can. He forced himself out of bed and drove to see the doctor. A prescription to stop the vomiting and a sleep aid helped, but it didn’t change what he had to face at the station or the problems at home. As he lay in bed and watched the late afternoon shadows creep across his walls, the situations crashing against his brain started his stomach to rumble again. He didn’t feel like talking to his kids, and he dreaded Barbara coming home from work.

Where is Nadine?

The whole discipline process at the station triggered paralyzing anxiety. Jacob refused to admit to fear. That was beneath him. But a veteran of the Border Patrol shouldn’t have to go through such humiliation for a minor infraction. The illegal man he’d punched had been interviewed, and the two agents who witnessed the incident had given their testimony. So Jacob had made a mistake. Write him up, stick it in the file, and let him get back to work. Except his supes viewed the day’s happenings according to the rule book. Before Jacob was dismissed for the day, he’d been given a report that stated the Office of Inspector General, the Border Patrol Internal Affairs, and the Office of Professional Responsibility would receive immediate notice of the incident. The ultimatum at the station came from Chief Patrol Agent Ed Jimenez—mandatory counseling and administrative work until his supes decided his future with the Border Patrol. This was his second offense, according to them. It could be the end of his career and certainly the end to any hope of a supervisor position.

Jacob had been an agent for twenty years, and he’d seen a lot of changes. Some he liked, and some he despised. All the new blood exiting the academy as a result of the former presidential administration’s request for more agents consisted of some kids filling a man’s shoes. The Border Patrol was a paramilitary organization, not a place for little boys to play army. The mentoring program with seasoned agents was a start, but Jacob hadn’t signed up to babysit. To keep the job he was so dissatisfied with meant going through a company counselor who wanted him to discuss his feelings. “Anger management” is what Jimenez called it. Jacob planned to fight it for as long as possible. He needed his spare hours to make extra money that would put Nadine through college, if she ever decided to come home.

The counseling aspect infuriated him the most. His wife needed counseling, not him. It was her fault his family and his job were falling apart. How ironic that his wife who had pledged her love to him nineteen years ago had forgotten her vows. She’d set out to destroy him ever since Toby had been killed, and now it looked like she was succeeding.

Jacob glanced at the time. Barbara would be home soon. Strange how he could once love a woman and now wish she was out of his life. He needed to get back to work—face the repercussions of his actions and get on with his life. But the doctor had given him written orders to stay home until Saturday. One more day stuck at home in bed and he’d need intense anger management.

Chapter 13

I have known sorrow and learned to aid the wretched.

Virgil

By Friday, Danika had serious concerns about Jacob, and Barbara hadn’t called during the week. News about his abusing an illegal spread like a twenty-four-hour virus. He faced disciplinary action, and it wasn’t the first time. Danika would not have been surprised if he’d been dismissed on the spot. She heard the murmurings, but she’d witnessed his slow progression into a bitter man. He’d alienated his old friends and hadn’t attempted to make new ones. She realized the shock of learning about Nadine’s drug problem could have pushed him over the edge, but it didn’t justify beating a man. She wished she had free time during her shift to visit Barbara at the accounting firm, but that luxury was not for Border Patrol agents.

She punched in Barbara’s cell phone number. “I’m worried sick about Jacob and Nadine,” Danika said. “Not just them, but all of you.”

“I should have called you Sunday, and here it is Friday. The problems keep escalating.”

Solutions for Nadine must not have been found. Now they also faced Jacob’s problems at work. Home life for Barbara must tug on all her emotion strings.

“What can I do to help? The last time we talked, you were going to try to find someone for Nadine to talk with.”

“That’s minor compared to what has happened.” Barbara’s tone was flat, almost scary. Normally she bubbled with enthusiasm about life and all the happenings going on with her family—even while she lived in denial of Jacob’s bullying.

“I’m confused. Maybe you could explain.”

“Naddie ran away.”

Fear seized Danika. Not since Toby’s death had she sensed her world falling apart like this. “When? What do the police say?”

“Sometime Sunday night. The police haven’t turned up a thing. It’s as though she’s disappeared.”

“Oh, honey, you should have called. I’d have been right there.”

“I wanted to tell you, wanted to every day, but Jacob . . .”

“I understand. No wonder he cracked at work.”

Barbara gasped. “What do you mean? What happened at the station?” Hysteria crept into her voice. “He’s been home since Tuesday afternoon. Said he was sick, and he’s been vomiting. Hasn’t been to the doctor that I know of, but we aren’t really communicating.”

“I’m not the one to tell you about the incident. Maybe you should call the station.”

Sobs broke through the phone, and Danika blinked back her tears. This precious family had more burdens than they could bear. Her thoughts focused on the other children. Were they grieving and confused like Nadine? Children ultimately suffered the most in family turmoil. They needed sane outlets, just like adults.

“Have you or Jacob contacted a priest?”

“Jacob said he was too embarrassed, but I’ve talked to our priest twice this week.”

Embarrassed? Full of pride more accurately described him. “So he’s still blaming you?”

“I know it’s not my fault she ran away, just like I know he’s hurting. Both my Jacob and my little Naddie are in so much pain.”

“Is there any place I can look for her?”

“Oh, Danika, you are so sweet.” Barbara’s voice broke with a sob. “I’ve talked to her friends and their parents, and no one has heard from her.”

“What about the other children?”

“Scared. Upset tummies. Kaitlyn sleeps to avoid what is going on, while Jake isn’t sleeping. Amber refuses to eat.”

“I’m here for all of you,” Danika said. “Oh, that sounds so lame. I want to do something.”

“I know I can always depend on you, and I’ll do better to keep you posted. Right now I need your prayers. One more thing. Jacob said not to tell you about Naddie’s disappearance because your prayers didn’t count—because you’re not Catholic. I don’t believe that, never have. And I should have spoken up for you at the time. He never got over Toby’s . . . leaving the Catholic church.” Barbara continued to ramble. The dear woman craved peace.

“Barbara,” Danika interrupted. “It’s all right. We can discuss our faith when your family settles down a bit. Let it be enough to say God hears the prayers of the believer, and He doesn’t ask which church we attend.” How long had it been since she’d practiced words of encouragement to a Christian sister?

“Thank you. I’ll call tomorrow. Maybe Nadine will be home or call me by then.” Barbara hung up, leaving Danika lost in a whirlwind of near panic and love for her family.

Her session with Shannon had proved how desperately she needed to work through the demons in her own life. The situation looked like God had deserted all of them. But then again who else was there to turn to?

* * *

Sandra pushed her cart through the grocery store. She loved her job and her adoptive family. Cooking for Danika and Tiana and keeping their home clean—her home—filled her with satisfaction. She no longer looked for a husband, and she’d wait for her own family until Danika no longer needed her. The troubles circling her life two years ago had faded into manageable chunks. Even Lucy was handled since she believed Danika’s lawyer held the evidence implicating her traffic in illegal workers.

Danika had purchased a beautiful home right after Sandra had taken the job as Tiana’s nanny. It was a split floor plan that allowed Sandra and Danika to have their own privacy within the same house. What more could she ask for?

Tiana pushed a small cart beside her. Inside were a bunch of bananas and a box of graham crackers. The little girl tugged on Sandra’s shirt. “Cookie,” she signed, and Sandra nodded her consent.

At the end of the next aisle, the bakery offered free cookies to children. And Tiana loved the sugared treats.

The delicious aroma of hot bread teased Sandra’s nostrils, reminding her the hour moved quickly to noon. As a child, she’d often gone to bed hungry, and she made certain Tiana ate a balanced diet that ensured a healthy little girl. Sandra had pored over many books on nutrition especially for her Tiana. She did think of the little girl as her own. After all, she spent more waking hours with her than Danika. Sandra remembered how hard she’d labored to learn to read and write before accepting this job. Everything had paid off. Even Lucy’s abuse.

She picked up a loaf of marble rye bread and tortillas and helped Tiana pick out a sugar cookie. Stopping at the fresh produce, she selected four red bell peppers. She’d roast them and make a cream soup for dinner with a huge spinach salad. Danika encouraged her to watch the Food Network and prepare other dishes besides traditional Mexican foods. Right from the start, Danika had made it clear that trust was the most important factor in their relationship, and she didn’t question the food bill. So Sandra budgeted her spending and tried new recipes, and Danika was pleased.

Then Sandra remembered the morning’s call from Lucy, as if spiders were crawling inside her stomach and threatening to destroy her. The woman’s demands had increased, and although Sandra refused to comply with any of them, the threats continued. Lucy had hardened over the years, grown greedier and bolder. She despised Danika, and Sandra thought she knew why, but she didn’t want to speculate. The nagging suspicions about Lucy’s depraved mind cropped up at unexpected times, suspicions Sandra dreaded to face. Even if true, even if Lucy were involved in other things besides an illegal maid and nanny service, Sandra didn’t want to know. Lucy had means of securing falsified U.S. documents, which kept ICE off the woman’s back.

“Do you know where Cira is?” Lucy had asked.

“Cira Ramos? She’s been gone from McAllen for two years.” Sandra hoped the young woman and her baby never returned to the area.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I have no idea.” Cira had fled to Houston, where she planned to raise her child without fear of Lucy forcing her to work for free.

“If you value your life, you’ll do what I tell you,” Lucy said. “I need to find Cira. And I need Border Patrol information.”

“Forget it. As many threats as you toss my way, I have more. I’d get shipped back to Mexico, but you’d be sentenced to jail for a long time.” Her words sounded brave, and they packed enough punch to stop Lucy from sending someone to change her mind, but Sandra understood how evil Lucy could be.

Sandra no longer needed to talk with the women who worked for Lucy to know the rumors—how many illegals worked seven days a week for nothing to pay back their indebtedness for bringing them to the United States. Sandra never understood why Lucy didn’t want to let Cira go. The pretty young woman had been cornered repeatedly by Lucy’s men until she turned up pregnant. That’s when she ran.

During the time of her indebtedness, Sandra lived under Lucy’s rules. The woman supplied toast and coffee for breakfast and beans and tortillas for dinner. The illegal workers alternated between a bed and a floor, often four to a room. The years became a monotonous blur in her memory. She’d been freer in Mexico, until Danika came to Lucy with a need for a live-in nanny. The position gradually developed into a cook and maid, not because Danika asked any more of her but because Sandra had quickly grown fond of the mother and daughter and wanted to do everything possible to help the widow and her deaf child. Everything but tell her the truth about her status within the U.S.

No matter what Lucy claimed she could do, Sandra would never change her mind and betray Danika unless . . . She didn’t want to think about the letter she’d received yesterday about her aging parents needing urgent medical care. Sandra already sent them all she could spare from the last paycheck, but her mother insisted it wasn’t enough. Next week, she’d send more. Her parents would receive what they needed, and Sandra’s comfortable life would continue.