The Chase (29 page)

K
ariss walked through Tigo’s living room, large and tastefully decorated in rich shades of brown and tan, with a cocoa-colored leather sofa and dark woods. Accents of coral and gold caught her eye. A vase looked like it came from the Middle East. Perhaps his mother had traveled there. A wall of windows opened up to a magnificently landscaped yard.

She wandered into a huge kitchen, where the enticing aroma of coffee filled the air. Copper pans hung over the stove, complemented by rich cabinetry, brown and black granite countertops, and a coffee bar. A priest stood with an attractive blonde woman, and Kariss approached them to introduce herself.

“I’m Kariss Walker, Tigo’s friend.”

The woman reached out her hand and smiled, a genuine gesture. “I’m Natalie, Mrs. Harris’s hospice nurse.”

The priest extended his hand, a middle-aged man with lots of gray. “I’m Father Upchurch.” His grasp was firm and his response kind. “I know the name sorta gives me away.”

She liked him instantly.

“Would you like coffee?” Natalie said. “We were just about to have a cup. It’s fresh. I knew Tigo would want some once he got home.”

“I smelled it the moment I walked in. That would be lovely.”

Natalie turned to the coffee bar. She reached for two cups, filled them, and handed them to Kariss and Father Upchurch. “All the fixings are right here.” She gestured to the bar, where every manner of creamer and means of sweetening the coffee were available. “Thank you for being here. Tigo doesn’t have much family.”

In an instant, Kariss’s large family swept across her mind’s eye. She couldn’t imagine being alone. “Is there anything I can do?” She picked up a small pitcher of creamer and dribbled a generous amount into the dark, rich brew. She stepped away to allow Natalie and Father Upchurch access.

“Consolation is the only thing I can think of,” Natalie said.

“What happens with Mrs. Harris now?”

“She’s been bathed, and we’re waiting for the funeral home to arrive.” Natalie glanced at Father Upchurch, and he took a sip of his coffee.

“Are you Catholic, Miss Walker?” he said.

“No. I’ve attended a wake but not a funeral service.”

“The wake will be at the funeral home. The Mass will be at the church where Mrs. Harris holds her membership. From there, the procession will move to the cemetery for a graveside service.”

Kariss nodded at the priest as though she knew the procedures for a Roman Catholic burial. She wondered if friends brought in food. Her mother would probably have the answer. “I haven’t known Tigo very long, but it appears he’s devoted to his mother.”

“He’s a good man. A good son,” Father Upchurch said. “I’ve been called here before to administer last rites, and he’s always been attentive. You’re blessed to have him as a friend.”

She was blessed in many ways. “Yes, I am. He … saved my life. Without his wisdom, I’d be dead.” She shivered. “I’m sorry. The happening is still raw, and I’ve been thankful for every breath of life since then.” Offering a smile, she then stared at her coffee. “Today is about Tigo and his mother, not me. I apologize for making it seem so.”

“Talking about God’s deliverance is always appropriate.”

Kariss lifted her gaze to meet his. The priest knew God. More than that — he walked with Him. They had a kinship, and the thought filled her with peace. She turned to Natalie. “He speaks highly of you and the others who have given care to his mother.”

“Thank you,” Natalie said. “I work the afternoon and evening shift. Every night he sat by his mother’s side. Ate his supper there. Worked until way up into the night. Talked to Mrs. Harris as if she were cognizant.”

“How very caring.” Another characteristic of Tigo that surprised her. She’d seen his gentle side during the times she’d been frightened. Again she considered the complexity of this man.

“And the roses.”

Kariss tilted her head.

“Mrs. Harris loved red roses, and Tigo made sure she had a fresh bouquet every five days.”

Kariss remembered the way he’d examined Vicki’s roses and the compliments. Now she understood his interest. She vowed to be more attentive to her own parents. “This home and neighborhood is beautiful.”

“I agree. Tigo purchased it new when he returned from Saudi Arabia about seven years ago to take care of his mother. The size and layout were perfect, and you can see he keeps it in immaculate condition.”

He’d been in Saudi Arabia? That explained some of the accent pieces in his living room. “How long have you been involved with Mrs. Harris’s care?”

“Nearly a year. She’s been a fighter.”

“Are you an agent too?” Father Upchurch took a sip of coffee.

“No, sir. I’m a writer. Tigo has been helping me with research for a novel. I was at the FBI office when he received the call and I asked if I could accompany him.”

“He never talks about his work,” Natalie said. “Our conversations have been about the care of his mother — and when to expect his arrival.”

The new information about Tigo touched her. She’d judged him by his professional mannerisms, his attention to detail and bringing criminals to justice. Later, when this was behind him, she’d ask about his time in Saudi. How commendable for him to return to take care of his ailing mother. A mystery man for sure. At that moment, standing in the kitchen of Tigo’s home with his mother’s hospice nurse and a priest, Kariss couldn’t think of a single trait that didn’t fall under the category of an honorable man.

Early Friday morning, Kariss exited the church after the Mass for Tigo’s mother. The ceremony had been meaningful, respectful. The attendees were solemn, and there was no music. That aspect surprised her. She expected more of a celebration.

She’d come alone and sat midway in the church. Linc and Ryan had arrived ahead of her and sat closer to the front. The crowded church indicated the number of people Mrs. Harris had impacted positively during her life. Although she’d lived the past two years as an invalid, she’d contributed to many worthwhile projects within her church and community.

Kariss had heard wonderful stories at the wake about how she’d taken care of the poor and the elderly. A good woman who lived her faith. Someday Kariss would ask Tigo more about her. Maybe that would be a good conversation for later, since he’d asked her to stay after the meal at his home. She’d be there for him because it was the right thing to do. Considering he’d saved her from being killed and made sure the Arroyos believed he’d disposed of her body, she’d do just about anything for him. But her presence was more than an obligation or a responsibility. Her fragile faith encouraged her to reach out. She’d always been giving, especially to children. But that came from what happened at the day care. This new devotion came from what Jesus had done for her.

At Tigo’s home, the hours inched by until the last person paid their respects and left. The caterer and his servers packaged up the leftovers. Tigo paced the floor like a caged cat, clearly stressed from the day.

“I didn’t eat, and I’m starved,” he said to Kariss. “The food here had death oozing from it.”

“I understand.” She’d been too preoccupied assisting the servers to eat. “I haven’t either.”

“I appreciate how you jumped in and took care of people. Thanks. I owe you.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a mannerism she hadn’t observed in the past.

“You don’t owe me anything. Glad to help.”

“I’ve instructed the servers to take the leftovers. The food would just sit in the fridge and spoil.”

“What do you suggest? I’d offer to cook, but it wouldn’t be edible.”

He gave her a half smile. “We could go somewhere.”

“You’re worn out, Tigo. Why don’t I go pick us up something?”

He looked around as though lost. “Sounds like a good idea. Can’t believe how late it is. Anyway, there’s an Italian restaurant about five minutes from here. I could call in an order.” He picked up a book on grief that someone had left for him. He leafed through the pages then set it aside. “Sure you don’t mind?”

“No problem. Just point me in the right direction.”

Tigo appeared to labor over the menu, but Kariss recognized the signs of mourning and his need for a time to be alone. She’d linger a bit in picking up the food.

Outside in the starless night, the hot Houston air seemed to wrap a blanket around her. She’d never minded heat and humidity, and her travels across the country to colder and dryer areas made her uncomfortable. Tonight, the heaviness nearly stole her breath away. Perhaps it was the funeral.

She walked down the driveway to her car, which was parked at the curb. Glancing up, she admired the neighborhood. Lights in the windows of well-kept homes and the quiet sounds gave her a sense of peace.

“Do not turn around or scream.” A sharp object pressed against the small of her back. The Hispanic male voice with a lisp caused her head to spin. Although he spoke English, she knew without hesitation who’d come for her.

“Takes guts to accost a woman in this area,” she whispered.

“Only takes a few seconds to send this knife through you. Walk across the street to the parked car.” He nudged her forward.

The car was a Lexus, fitting for the neighborhood but not the man behind the knife.

“Why should I? You’re going to kill me anyway.”

“This way you keep Tigo alive. He can’t save your neck this time.”

How did they find out? He’d been so carefully disguised that she hadn’t recognized him. Someone had sold them out.

But who?

T
igo checked the time. Kariss should have been back with dinner over twenty minutes ago. Wouldn’t she have called if she had been delayed? He pressed her number into his cell. After the fourth ring, it went to voice mail.

“Kariss, it’s Tigo. Seems strange you’d be this late. Give me a call.”

Ten minutes later, he phoned the restaurant. She’d not picked up the food order.

Snatching his keys and wallet, he headed to the garage and raised the door. She must have had car problems. But why hadn’t she called for help? A trace of alarm inched through him. He’d planted all the right seeds for the Arroyos to believe she was dead. Even had a bogus article placed in the paper about finding a dead woman that fit the time and description of the gun deal.

His attention turned to the curb. Kariss’s car sat right where she’d parked it after the funeral. He jogged to the vehicle. It was unlocked. No sign of a struggle. But how could he tell much in the dark? He hurried back to the garage for a flashlight.

Moments later, he aimed the light over the area. The grass next to her car had been beaten down, indicating multiple people had stood in the area.

His cell rang. “Tigo here.”

“I suggest you listen up,” a man said in Spanish. “
Tenemos a tu amiga.
If you want to make sure she stays alive, then do exactly what I tell you.”

Tigo scrutinized the vehicles parked around him. All looked like they belonged. A couple of teens played basketball. They might have seen something. “What do you want?”

“We’re willing to make an exchange.”

“What kind?” Tigo continued to scan the darkness. The Arroyos had spent too much time looking for Kariss and then letting her slip through their fingers to bargain with her life now. “Name your price.”

“You for her.”

“I’m ready.”

“We’ll stay in touch.”

Fear, such a formidable enemy.

Duct tape sealed her mouth. She tasted the rising nausea and prayed her stomach would stop its incessant churning. If she vomited, she’d surely choke to death. That would solve it all for the Arroyos.

Her arms were pinned behind her back, and rope dug into her wrists like needles searching for blood. Roaches skittered across the concrete floor, and other quickening clicks hinted at mice … or rats.

About twenty feet away, three Arroyos played cards and drank can after can of beer, the ping of each finished container echoing around her as if in time to the strum of a Spanish guitar. They talked about what they planned to do to her … Sickening revulsion twisted in her gut.

But the smell attacked her most — dank, musty, and filled with the heaviness of death.

She strained to study where they held her. But her eye was nearly swollen shut. Moving proved painful, and she surmised her right rib must be broken. Piled several feet beyond her were rows of pipe manufactured by Cardinal Ventures.

Even if she were able to free herself, she had no idea where they’d taken her. Some type of warehouse. She’d been shoved to the floorboard of the Lexus — so unlike a few days ago when Tigo and Ryan had ordered her to do the same.

How long before they were drunk enough to act upon their bravado? Or had they already been given their orders?