Chapter Nineteen
MIGUEL
By the time we finished with the meeting, I had hope that this case may be coming to a head. Though I still had no idea whether John was working with Cassanova and her companion, at least I knew I had good men in my corner who’d help me find out for sure. But that thought brought up another one which I’d been avoiding completely ever since spotting Sutter at the restaurant in Calabasas. We’d been neglecting the office although Raven had dutifully been keeping Judy updated as to what was happening. I thought I should probably drop Raven off at the office to fill her in because the other matter could no longer wait.
As soon as we got into the truck, I clutched my keys and turned to him. “I need to go talk to Vonne.”
His eyes widened for a second before he slowly nodded. “You want to tell him about John?”
“I think I have to. He doesn’t know anything about what’s been happening and it’s not like I can call him to fill him in on it. Plus…I think not telling him face to face would be wrong.”
“Okay then. Let’s go talk to him.”
I broke eye contact and looked straight out the windshield, curling my hand around the keys until they dug into my hand. “It’s something I have to do alone, Sunshine.” I glanced over at him. “I don’t know how he’s going to react to John being alive, and when I tell him he might be involved with a rogue CIA faction who could be hunting us, he’s going to flip out.”
I looked around, realizing what I’d just said out here in the parking lot. If there was a parabolic mic aimed our way, they would have picked up on what I just said. I couldn’t see anyone in the vicinity, but I realized I hadn’t given anything away except for possibly painting a target on Vonne’s back. In either case, it was too late to do anything about it now. John and the others would know we were trying to figure it all out anyway. It’s natural that I’d go to Vonne.
Raven frowned just the tiniest bit. I was pretty sure I spotted hurt in his eyes, but I knew I was right. If Vonne reacted badly, it was going to take everything in me to hold it together. I’d reacted badly myself, and Vonne’s reaction was going to be off the charts. I watched Raven school his features and lift his chin as he nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed.
“I completely understand, baby.” He reached for my hand, and I took it. “Did you think I was going to be upset?”
“You’re not?”
His gaze was so compassionate, I felt my throat close up. He shook his head. “Of course not.” He squeezed my hand. “You two are best friends, have been for many years. I don’t feel bad about that. I only feel bad that you’re going to have to deal with the fallout of Sutter’s disappearance once again. It’s not fair, Miguel. That’s what I’m upset about. It’s not you. It’s this whole fucking situation.”
I nodded, hearing the frustration in his voice. I felt like I was letting Raven down and that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I almost wish John hadn’t come back at all. It would have saved the man I loved so much grief, not to mention the fact that he’s still in danger. Though I didn’t think John would hurt Raven, the truth was, I didn’t even know the man anymore. The time we served together seemed like a million years ago. The man in front of me was everything.
“I’m glad you understand.” I paused. “Do you want to grab an early lunch before I drop you at the office or I can take you home so you can get the Dodge. Whatever you want, Sunshine.”
He smiled at me. “Do you know how I feel every time you call me Sunshine?” I shook my head. “You make me feel like you cherish me…that I’m special.” I noticed the way his lower lip quivered just a little.
“I do. I hope you know I do.” I let go of his hand and started the engine. Completely dreading Vonne’s reaction.
Shortly after dropping Raven at home so he could drive himself to the office, I pulled into Vonne’s apartment building complex and parked in a shady spot in the parking lot. I steeled myself for what I was going to tell him, trying to figure out how to do it. He would be worried about my safety, but the prospect of that filled me with no joy. I wanted him to be happy that John was still alive, but he’d always been able to read my expression and tell what mood I was in, almost as well as Raven. Knowing I was concerned about what John might do to all of us, would show right through.
I’d been putting up a brave front, feeling like I should defend what Sutter had done by not coming to us sooner, trusting that whatever he’d done or whoever he’d gotten involved with, we would understand. He hadn’t believed in us and that made me sadder than I could put words or even much thought to. After leaving Raven, I’d called Vonne to ask him what time he got off work and he’d told me he was at home sleeping, having worked the night shift. I ran up to the second floor where his apartment was located as soon as he buzzed me through and knocked on his door.
He came to the door looking sleepy but smiling as always. “Come on in,” he said, blinking and yawning as soon as he opened the door. “Want some coffee?”
“Thanks.” I shut the door. “I’m so sorry, man,” I said, following him into the small apartment and heading back to the kitchen after him. It was already after twelve but he was dressed in a pair of sleeping shorts and a white tank top, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. He probably had. When we’d been on active duty together, our whole unit had been endlessly fascinated by how Vonne could fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow and wake up with a huge grin on his face at four in the morning, ready for the day. His inner alarm clock was the only one we’d ever needed out in the field.
He turned to look at me as I stepped into the kitchen. It was neat and clean but then again, so was Vonne’s girlfriend. They’d been living together for almost eleven years, sharing an apartment ever since we’d come home from Afghanistan. I glanced around, noticing the full crockpot which was cooking something that made the whole house smell heavenly. “How you doin’, Trigg?” he asked, handing me a full cup of black coffee.
“Not so good, which is why I kind of insisted on darkening your door when I know you just got off work.”
He frowned at me, then reached out, squeezing my bicep. “It’s okay, Trigg. I figured it was important which is why I told you to come over. Come on. Sit down. Candy’s at work and we have the house all to ourselves.”
“Thanks.” I followed him into the living room with my cup in hand and sat on my favorite sofa. It had fluffy cushions in a bold tropical print of orange and white hibiscus flowers. The couch itself was made of curving, beige bamboo which matched the table and end tables with gleaming glass tops. A single rolltop desk of light oak sat in the corner. The rest of the room was decorated in the same bright tones with a Hawaiian theme, making it look happy. I got choked up which wasn’t normal for me but telling him something he’d probably be confused and upset about at the same time, broke any barriers of dismay I’d ever felt before.
“Something’s happened.” I was looking at my mug as he settled into the padded club chair across from me.
He leaned forward. “What?”
When I said nothing, he prodded.
“Trigg. What happened, brother?”
“John’s not dead.” I stared at him, and he looked back, confused.
“John who?”
“John Sutter. He’s alive.”
Confusion passed over his features as he shook his head. “That’s not possible,” he said, frowning deeply. “He can’t be alive. If he was, he would’ve found us. Reached out. Hell, he would have told the whole team he’s still alive.”
“I’ve seen him.”
Vonne sat back, eyes as wide as saucers. “What are you talkin’ about? When?”
“A few days ago. Raven and I have a new case, and he turned up at the restaurant where we were meeting with our new client for the first time.”
“So, you’re tellin’ me that he just waltzed into this restaurant, come on over to you, clapped ya on the back and said ‘hey’? Is that what you expect me to believe?”
“He didn’t expect me to be there, and he didn’t say anything to me. He turned and ran, and I chased him.”
“You’re tellin’ me that John Sutter ran away rather than talk to you? John Sutter?”
“I don’t think he expected to see me.” I hedged, twisting my hands together. “Look, it’s kind of a long story, Vonne.”
He glanced down at my coffee cup and then stood up abruptly, reaching for it. “Well, I guess you’re gonna need a refill.” With that, he walked back to the kitchen as I sat on the couch and waited.
It took the better part of an hour to describe everything that had happened to Raven and I over the last few days. I told him about the man from McNulty’s building and the woman who’d approached us at the Getty. I also told him how she claimed it was John who’d pointed a gun at me. I even said I’d met with Mark Evans, explaining who he was and how I knew him, his son, and the other men who’d helped Raven and I on another case. I didn’t leave anything out, including how I was dreading coming to him after his last interaction with John the day he’d died.
“Do you remember Damon Thorne? He used to be CIA but he’s retired now. Apparently, the other men know him. He was there when we met with Mark Evans this morning,” I said.
Vonne nodded. “Yeah, I remember Thorne. Nice guy. He’s retired but—” He sat back rubbing two hands over his face. “I can’t believe you met Mark Evans. I mean I know he’s retired now, and probably knew Thorne from the CIA, but he was the Associate Director of the CIA, man. It’s just wild that he’s been helpin’ you on this. I guess it’s good to know men in high places, Trigg.”
“I didn’t know he was Jarrett Evans’ father until I told them what was happening. You know they helped me out on that job when Raven and I first met.”
Vonne nodded. “Yeah, and for what it’s worth, I feel real bad that you had to ask for the help of other folks before comin’ to me, Trigg.” He looked sad and I felt terrible for not trusting him the moment John turned up. He was my brother, and I’d let him down. I felt like total shit about it.
“I never should have done that, buddy. After everything you did to help Raven and all the times you patched me up over there, I should have trusted you before anyone else.” I sighed. “I fucked up.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “No…well, yeah. You should have come to me, asshole.”
The small smile on his face made me nod. “You’re right. I honestly feared your reaction to hearing that John is alive. I know you and he didn’t part on the best of terms but I should have trusted you to do the right thing.”
“Trigg…you’ve been carryin’ a heavy burden on your shoulders about all this.” He reached up and scrubbed over his face again, then stared at the carpet. “You know I carried a lot of guilt over how I reacted back then. But he had a bullet hole in his thigh and to this day, I don’t think he should have been cleared for duty. Still don’t know how he got the doc to sign off on it.” He sighed. “But I ain’t gonna let that stop me from findin’ out how he survived out there or help you with these CIA folks.”
“Thanks, Vonne. I just don’t know where to go from here, though. If Mark Evans can’t come up with anything on that woman, I don’t know how we’ll ever find John.”
“You can’t think he’s really workin’ with them, right?” he asked.
I shook my head. “If he’s a willing participant in evil shit, it has to be for some oddball reason. I’ve done nothing but ask myself that ever since spotting him. I just can’t imagine why he’d do that. Do you think he saw something?”
Vonne shook his head slowly. “Can’t imagine what unless you’re right about there bein’ a rogue CIA faction which was smugglin’ shit out of the country. You said they had some kind of outpost. I just can’t figure how no one in camp found out about it.”
“Someone might have.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
I reminded him about the scouting party who’d been ambushed and killed. “They might have found out.”
He frowned. “If’n they did, that’s downright pure murder, Trigg. Still don’t explain how Sutter was left alive if he also found out.”
I nodded. “Trust me, I’ve been racking my brain about it. Nothing makes sense. And I tried to think of anyone he could have been involved with in the camp that he may have told. I always figured if he stumbled on them and saw them moving looted goods, he would have come to us first. The only thing that makes sense is that maybe they’re holding something over his head. I’m open to suggestions because I can’t think of what it could be.”
He stared at me, seeming to think about it for a while. “Hang on,” Vonne said. “Maybe there’s somethin’.” He stood and walked over to the rolltop desk, unlocking it and rolling the door up, rifling inside while I waited. “About a year ago, I got a letter from someone,” he muttered. He looked in one of the drawers before pulling out an envelope and walking over to me. He held it out.
“Who’s it from?” I took the letter.
“That’s the problem. I don’t know.” He nodded at it. “I mean he says he knows me because his daddy told him about me, but I have no idea who his daddy is.”
I opened the envelope. The letter inside didn’t appear to have been manufactured in the United States, nor the envelope. It reminded me of stationery I’d seen in Europe, thinner and more fragile when opened. The style of the writing wasn’t exactly childlike but there was a simplicity to it that made it feel like the person writing wasn’t a native English speaker. My belly filled with butterflies the more I read.
“My name is Daniel Mendez. I live in Paris, with my mother, Niloufar. I was born in Afghanistan during the war, but my mother immigrated to Pakistan with my auntie and uncle. I went to school in Karachi and when my mother, my aunt, and uncle got a visa to France, we all immigrated there where I met my father. His name was John Mendez, but he died after we got to Paris. My uncle told me you were his good friend working together in the Middle East. He gave me your address and told me I should come to see you if I ever go to the United States, California. I don’t know if that can happen because I’m still in school, but if I do, I will come to see you, if you’re still in California. I’m sending a picture of me and my mother so you will know me when I come.”
It was signed Daniel. I looked at the envelope again. It was addressed in the same cursive handwriting. I glanced at Vonne. “Do you know someone named John Mendez?”
He shook his head. “No. I have no idea who the guy is and even though he said there was a picture enclosed, there was nothin’ else in the envelope.”
I frowned, examining the glue on the envelope to see if it had been tampered with. Other than a little buckling, it appeared normal to me. “There was no photo?” When Vonne shook his head, I had to agree that it was the strangest thing. I reread the letter. “I don’t know anyone named John Mendez either. Do you think John Sutter could be this kid’s father?”
“No. I think we would have known if Sutter had a kid, Trigg. You were the closest person to him in the unit, so if he did, I think he’d have told you before me or the others. And now that you’ve got a contact in Mark Evans, you can ask him to follow the lead.”
I nodded. “It’s worth a shot if nothing else.” I took a photo of the letter and handed it back to him. “Daniel said his father worked with you, but you don’t remember anyone named John Mendez? And who’s the uncle?”
Vonne shrugged. “I don’t know. I may have met someone in the camp, but you know it was huge. I definitely didn’t have a friend by that name. It could have been a patient, but I don’t recall.”
“I think if John had a kid and somehow got a visa for his wife, baby, and in-laws to immigrate to Europe, it might be the first step in getting them into the U.S. I’ll ask Evans to check into it. If these CIA douchebags knew about John having a kid and used that knowledge to threaten their lives, working with them might make sense.”
“How the hell did he have a kid with some Afghani woman? We were with him all the time,” Vonne asked.
“Maybe Daniel’s not a blood relation,” I said. “We all took the villagers under our wing when we got the chance. You know that.”
Vonne nodded. “Yeah. I made sure they had medications when they needed them.”
We’d all done whatever we could for the locals. We’d built their schools, shared our rations, and we played with their kids. I just couldn’t imagine John slipping off and screwing some Afghani woman, risking her life if her family found out about it. There were plenty of warm places in camp for him to sink his dick. It didn’t make sense. But if he was helping a family, that would make sense.
“I’ll find out if there was a John Mendez on base when we were assigned there,” I said. I examined my hands before glancing up at him. “I’m really sorry, Vonne.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it, Trigg.” He stood, and I did as well. He walked around the coffee table and pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly. I hugged him back hoping he would eventually forgive me for not having told him about John right away. Losing Sutter was bad enough, but I couldn’t stand the possibility of losing Vonne on top of it.
He clapped me on the back as we separated and walked to the front door. “Make sure to give John Mendez’ name to Mark Evans so he can run it down and from now on, please keep me in the loop.” He smiled at me as we stopped at the door. “And the next time you’re facin’ a loaded gun, give me a holler, Trigg. I want to help.”
“Thanks, Vonne.” I reached out and gave his cheek a pat before walking out the door. I ran down the stairs and stopped to take a deep breath before pushing through the door into the bright sunlight. It was nearly three, having spent hours discussing everything we’d talked about. I pulled out my phone when I got to my truck. I was glad for the shade I’d parked in. It was February, but it was a warm day, and my air conditioning wasn’t that great in the old truck. As I looked down at the phone, keys in hand, I suddenly felt all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
A second before I could react to pull my gun, I was body slammed front first into the driver’s side door. My keys dropped to the pavement. Steely arms closed around my midsection, but I reacted without thinking, slamming my head back as my training kicked in. I heard a sickening crunch as the back of my head caught my attacker in the face. The pain in my skull was jarring and I shook my head as I heard the curse.
“Trigg! Motherfucker! Stop!”
I stilled instantly, hearing the voice I hadn’t heard in eleven years. I pushed back, feeling the person separate from my body, and turned. Standing a few feet away from me, looking stunned in a tattered ballcap, blood dripping from his broken nose, stood John Sutter, watery green eyes streaming, as he tried to stem the blood sliding down his face.
“God damn you, Trigg,” he gasped. “That fuckin’ hurt.”