Chapter Fourteen
W hen Rio got back to the cabin, he found Becca sitting on the edge of the bed braiding her hair. On top of the cooler was food she’d prepared in a simple meal. Granola bars, grapes, and dry salami slices were arranged on napkins. She smiled at him.
He was struck anew by her natural beauty, her dark eyes, her long hair and slim figure.
The homey scene put him in mind of a sweet little wife waiting for her husband to come home from a long day at work. The image was fleeting and for him, fanciful. He would never have a wife. His lifestyle wasn’t conducive to marital happiness or longevity. His temperament was too independent, too restless. He wasn’t the committing kind.
In seconds, the fantasy evaporated into the ether.
“We have to talk,” he said, in a tone rougher than he intended. “Those guys waiting for you last night killed the team that was supposed to get you.”
Becca’s hands fell to her lap and her eyes grew huge. “Oh, my God. They—they were murdered?”
He took off his coat and sat beside her on the bed. “My boss said something about this being political. Know anything about that?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Political? I-I-”
“What?”
“My dad is currently running for a political position—for a senate seat. He’s always been active in the party.”
“A senator is a powerful position. What type of business does your dad run? You said you work for him.”
“I do. Like I told you, it’s a hubcap distributorship. We sell vintage wheel covers as well as original equipment like manufactured items, alloy and aluminum. They can be bought individually, like to a collector looking for a single product, and also in bulk to car dealerships. I oversee work orders and the shipping department and I make sure the books are balanced. My two brothers are in sales. In recent years, my father has ceded a lot of the day-to-day responsibilities to my brothers and me. He’s been spending more time traveling.”
“So it’s the three of you running the warehouse?”
“Pretty much. We have about two dozen valued employees. We all know what we’re doing. Every once in a while, Uncle Tim stops by.”
“Uncle Tim?”
“He’s not really an uncle, we just call him that. He’s my dad’s good friend and business partner. A silent partner, mostly. He comes in every few weeks, actually a lot more lately, has coffee, sits around with the guys and asks how things are going. He doesn’t really have anything to do with running the company.”
“But he invested in it?”
“Originally, when dad started the company, Uncle Tim put up funds. A payment is made to him every month. In another year our debt to him will be paid in full.”
“You like him? Uncle Tim?”
“Sure! I love him. He really is like our uncle. When we were young he’d bring us birthday gifts, small toys, ask how we were doing. Like I said, we’ve been seeing more of him lately. He’s so friendly and interested in everything, sometimes he distracts me from my work.” She gave a short laugh.
Rio studied her for a long moment. “Which part of your work?”
“What?”
“Which part of your work does Uncle Tim distract you from?”
“Rio, Tim isn’t a villain. He’s not a criminal or anything, if that’s what you’re—”
“I’m sure he’s an angel. Just answer my question.”
“Shipping,” she said. “Each afternoon around three it’s my habit to see that the orders are filled correctly. Of course I can’t look into every container. The men in that department do that and we have pretty good quality control protocols. But I do like—”
“How big are the shipping containers?”
“Different sizes,” she answered with confidence. “For smaller orders, we use cardboard boxes. For larger ones, wooden crates. Our big crates measure sixty inches, by twenty-four, by fifteen.”
He rubbed his jaw. “A lot of things could fit into boxes of that size.”
“Like what? What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know.”
“Look, my father’s business is on the up-and-up.” She sounded defensive. “Nothing nefarious is going on there. My brothers are honest, hard-working young men. And my Uncle Tim is harmless.”
“Until we get to the bottom of who’s so interested in you, nobody is harmless. Everyone is suspect. Everyone .”
Becca didn’t respond.
“It’s clear that some people, bad guys, want you dead. Other people, maybe also bad guys, want you alive. Why?” He gave her his hard-eyed stare.
Becca let her gaze fall to her hands, tightly clasped in her lap. He could see that the idea of militias and armed killers wanting to murder her was messing with her mind.
He didn’t have time for that.
“Tell me about your home life,” Rio demanded.
“I—I did. I work, go home, go jogging, watch TV. Sometimes I go out with friends.”
“What else?”
“My life isn’t exciting,” she replied. “I don’t do illegal drugs. I don’t break laws. My one hobby is frogs. I have an aquarium filled with them.”
“Frogs,” he said curtly, as though they could be the culprits in the whole scenario.
She frowned. “I hope my roommate is feeding them.”
“Roommate? I didn’t know you had one.”
“She’s a flight attendant. Almost never there. But when she is, she’s good about throwing the frogs some frozen bloodworms or fish flakes.” She bit her lip. “I hope they’re okay.”
Rio gazed at her thoughtfully. “Of all the things you’ve told me, your work still sticks out. Maybe something is going on at your father’s warehouse.”
“It’s hard to believe ... but I need to get in there, look around.” A new urgency appeared to seize her. “I need to see for myself what’s going on.”
“Right, but not during daylight hours. When we get across the border, nobody can know you’re back in the States.”
“But my dad, my brothers will be—”
He was already shaking his head. “Do you want to get to the bottom of this or not?”
“Yes, of course. But I’m not a detective. I don’t know how—”
“I’ll help you. I do know how.”
She stared at him. “Why?” she whispered. “You owe me nothing. Even after...” She gestured awkwardly at the bed. “Why would you help me?”
He gazed at her coolly. “Don’t forget, those assholes shot at me, too. Twice. I don’t like that. I’ll get you back home, Becca, that’s my job. But along the way, we’ll also find out why your life is hanging in the balance.”
She felt her throat close, both in fear and in gratitude. Of one thing she was certain, her resolve hardened. She must get into the shipping department of the plant. If something was amiss, she’d discover it. If not, they would be able to dismiss any nefarious activity, or anything going awry in her father’s warehouse. Alarmed now, she felt a desperate need to uncover the truth.
“One thing’s for sure,” he told her, “you’re safer across the border in the United States. By late tonight we’ll be in Nuevo Laredo. Tomorrow, we’ll cross into the U.S.”
“We don’t have passports. How will we do that?” She spread her hands wide.
He winked. “Leave that to me.”
****
A t dusk, Rio announced it was time to go and Becca bundled up as best she could. She put on her blouse, Rio’s t-shirt, and the sweatshirt over that. On her head, she pulled the cap low. Taking the large zip top baggie which had held the grapes, she placed inside slices of salami, crackers, the remaining granola bars, and two water bottles. She didn’t imagine they’d be flying first class and served filet mignon and champagne.
He pulled on a sweatshirt, then drew the strap of his oilskin pouch over his shoulder. They were ready.
After a good hour on the Vespa, Rio turned down a dirt lane and motored along until they found a short airstrip. A single engine plane sat parked on the side.
“It’s a Cessna 206,” he told her. “With high wings ideal for landing on dirt roads, it’s also modified so it can take off from short strips like this one.” He gestured at the makeshift runway.
Becca gazed at the plane curiously. “What’s that metal plate attached to the front?”
“It’s another modification hung under the nose. It protects the engine from gravel.”
The pilot, a Mexican national with a dark mustache, merely grunted a hello. Rio introduced him as Julio. Julio turned to Rio, and in Spanish he said, “You won’t want to go to Nuevo Laredo. Some of the city’s police force across the border in Laredo, Texas have been arrested for passing information about military movements to the drug cartels. People are in the streets protesting.”
“That’s actually perfect,” Rio answered. “We can use the crowds and distraction to cross the border and get into the U.S.”
When the pilot shrugged, they climbed aboard, and before Becca could orient herself, they were rolling and bumping along the lane and taking off.
They flew through the night sky, leaving the Chihuahua foothills and its mountain range behind. If Becca hadn’t been so apprehensive, she would have breathed a sigh of relief.
But they weren’t out of Mexico yet, and not yet out of danger. Rio’s questions about her father’s business made her concentrate. She didn’t like the direction of her thoughts, but she must be honest. Uncle Tim had been around a lot lately, far more often than he had ever been before. And it always seemed that his visits were timed at two or three in the afternoon. Exactly when she normally inspected the day’s shipping. Did these new visits have any significance?
Uncle Tim always seemed interested in having her attention during those visits, but he never had anything important to say. Why? Were the visits coincidental, or was something happening in shipping?
She wracked her brain to remember if anything else had been different lately and could think of nothing.
What was going on?