Chapter 20
20
C amila hadn’t been to Mexico in several years, but when she walked out of the terminal with Alejandro, the familiar sights and sounds of her mother’s home country washed over her like an old friend.
Because of her appearance, people who didn’t know her only saw a Black woman, but identifying only as Black meant ignoring half her DNA. The part that recognized the scent of warm tortillas and roasted chilies from the food stands nearby, which transported her to her childhood and working in the kitchen with her mommy and her abuela .
The bustling traffic, lively conversations in Spanish, and the distant sound of music put a smile on her face. Her heart swelled with a mixture of nostalgia and pride, confirming she had stayed away too long.
At the sound of a honking horn, Alejandro tapped her shoulder. He wore his cowboy hat and sunglasses. “There he is,” he said, angling his chin in the direction of a taxicab.
The man who descended didn’t look at all the way she had expected. She assumed he’d be Mexican. Instead, he looked like a walking ad for the California beach life. He was the same height as Alejandro with a similar build and handsome, with blond hair and stubble on his jaw that was a couple of shades darker. The grim set to his face softened as he approached.
“Good to see you, Sanchez,” he said to Alejandro.
“Likewise.” Both men shook hands and clapped each other on the back. “Buck, this is Camila Hughes. Camila, meet Buck Swanson, an old friend.”
“Nice to meet you.” Camila extended her hand, and his big palm swallowed hers in a firm handshake.
“The pleasure is all mine.” He took their bags and started toward his white cab with Taxi Libre written in bright orange on the side. “First time in Tijuana, Camila?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yes, if you can believe that,” she replied.
“Sanchez, you’ve been here before, haven’t you?”
“Once. For work.”
Buck popped the trunk and placed their bags inside. “I’ll tell you all the good places to eat.”
“How long have you lived here?” Camila asked.
“Only two weeks, but I’ve visited before. Still haven’t decided if I’ll stay for good. Maybe I will if the money works out.”
“Where are you from originally?” Camila asked.
“Texas. A little town called Dripping Springs. Ever heard of it?”
“No,” she admitted.
“No one has,” he said with a laugh. “It’s near Austin.”
They climbed into the taxi, Alejandro in the back seat and Camila in the passenger seat. On the way to their destination, they passed by beautiful murals on the walls of buildings, designed with bright colors depicting local history and social themes. The roads were filled with vehicles, and vendors sold street food and fresh fruit on the sidewalks. There was definitely an energy to the place as locals and visitors mingled in the early evening.
There were lots of billboards promoting medical tourism, offering quality healthcare at affordable prices for a variety of procedures such as dental care and cosmetic surgery. The most popular areas to have work done were Zona Río, Playas de Tijuana, and Zona Centro. Each offered a different setting. Zona Río, for example, was a commercial district with modern infrastructure and upscale shops. Playas de Tijuana, on the other hand, offered a more relaxing experience near the ocean.
Buck pulled up to a light-blue, nondescript building with small restaurants and cafes all around. He waited in the small lobby while they checked in and went upstairs.
Their room was small but neat. Nothing fancy, but they had a view of the street below and a small iron balcony with two metal chairs and a metal table.
Camila rested her hands on her hips as she looked around. “One bed?” She arched an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”
Alejandro chuckled and walked over to where she stood. “What do you think I have in mind?” he whispered against her neck.
A thrill rippled through her, and she slipped her arms around his waist and gazed up at him.
“A little more of what we did last night?” she suggested.
“You want more, eh?”
“A little bit,” she admitted.
“That can be arranged,” he said.
His kiss was warm, his lips tugging on hers and causing her body to tingle all over. Was this real life? Was she really allowed to touch and kiss him at will?
She ground her hips against his, and he pulled back regretfully. “Buck is waiting downstairs. We’re going to dinner with him.”
Camila watched him closely. “Is he really a taxi driver?”
“Why do you ask?”
Interesting. He didn’t answer the question—not that answering would help. The problem with Alejandro was, she couldn’t tell when he was lying. She could tell when he was upset, but he had a poker face when it came to telling untruths.
“He doesn’t look like a cab driver,” she said, picking up her purse from where she’d placed it on the bed.
“What does a cab driver look like?” he asked, amusement in his eyes.
“Not him, for sure. He looks like a bodyguard, like you.”
“Less chance of people trying to take advantage of him, I suppose. Come on,” he said.
Alejandro took her hand, which felt like the most natural move in the world. They met Buck downstairs and walked across the street to a bar, where the enticing scent of roasting meat and other delicacies filled their nostrils as they entered.
They sat at a table, Alejandro and Camila next to each other, with Buck across from them. The waitress placed a bowl of red salsa and a bowl of green salsa on the table with chips. She brought both men Tecate beers and coconut water for Camila. With their beverages in front of them, Buck gave an update while they waited for the food to arrive.
“You have an appointment with Dr. Lima at eleven, but you’ll actually meet with Rosa. She’s a doctor’s assistant at the clinic and is the reason you were able to get squeezed in on such short notice. I told her you were journalists who want to expose the illegal trafficking of organs. When you arrive, make sure you mention her name as the person who referred you.”
“How far are we from the clinic?” Alejandro asked, taking a drag on his bottle.
“Only a few miles. Because it’s on the outskirts of the city, if you drive a little ways beyond the clinic, you’ll hit dirt roads and houses farther apart.”
Dr. Shapiro’s clinic was called Oasis de Vida. Clinics on the edge of town were smaller and performed niche services such as stem cell therapy and bariatric surgery. According to their website, Oasis de Vida offered the same therapy in Tijuana as he did in Las Vegas, but she and Alejandro were certain he had chosen the area because it was less policed than the established medical zones. Which meant it was easier for him to get away with his illegal activity, assuming they were correct.
Buck leaned closer. “Listen, if you’re right, this thing is bigger than a clinic. For a business like this to flourish, there has to be other people in the network.”
“I thought about that. Medical examiner, police officers, crematoriums,” Alejandro said.
“Exactly.”
Camila shivered. She hadn’t considered the other people necessary to make the illegal buying and selling of organs into a successful enterprise.
“I appreciate you finding her and setting the appointment for us,” Alejandro said.
“Not a problem. I’ve made a few friends and connections since I’ve been here. Oh, before I forget, here are the keys to my car. It’s a white Honda HR-V parked in the lot behind the hotel.”
Alejandro took the keys. “Thank you.”
“For the rest of the night, relax, eat some good food, and then go to your appointment in the morning.”
“I like that plan.” Alejandro tapped his bottle to Buck’s and took another swig of his beer.
Their food arrived shortly thereafter, and for the rest of the night, their conversation remained lighthearted, with Buck sharing tales of his escapades as a young boy growing up in the small Texas town. He was clearly a handful for his parents.
They told him stories about the town in Jalisco where they met. Before long, a couple of hours had passed, and it was time for them to go their separate ways.
Outside the restaurant, Buck and Alejandro shook hands. “Good luck.”
“You’re certain she’ll be there?” Alejandro asked.
“Positive,” Buck said with a nod.
“ Gracias, güey .”
Buck walked away, and they went up to the room.
Alejandro took a shower first and Camila went in after him. When she came out of the bathroom, she found him on the balcony, wearing only his jeans and his sunglasses. No shirt or shoes and smoking a cigar.
She wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. “Are you coming to bed anytime soon?”
“In a little bit.”
He offered her a smoke, and she took the cigar, taking several puffs before handing it back to him.
She put her back to the iron railing and looked down at the street below, where cars cruised by and people idled near the doorways of the retail establishments, chatting with friends.
“If Se?ora Carrizosa saw you smoking with me, she would say I’m a bad influence,” Alejandro said.
Her eyes returned to him. “She wouldn’t be wrong. You’re the reason I started smoking cigars.” She noted the thoughtful expression on his face. “What are you thinking about?”
He slowly removed his sunglasses and placed them on the table. “Tomorrow. I don’t think you should come.”
Camila sighed heavily. “We had this conversation on the plane. I’m coming. I want to come.”
“This could get dangerous.”
“You think I don’t know that? It’s already dangerous, but we can’t stop now.”
“I don’t plan to stop, but I think you should stay at the hotel while I?—”
“No. I didn’t get on a six-hour flight and come all the way down here to sit in the hotel room while you go check out the facility. Four eyes are better than two, and we’re a team now.”
He watched her in silence.
“Jandro, we’re here to gather information, but more importantly, I want to stop Dr. Shapiro and Javier Reyes. Whatever we learn tomorrow could help shut down their operation, and I want to be a part of making that happen. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I’m pissed off they killed my friend and might get away with his murder. I’m pissed off they’ve hurt other people and might get away with it. I want to stop them.”
“Reyes already tried to take you out once. If we destroy his business, he is not going to be happy.”
Watching the white smoke snake its way upward into the night, Camila knew he was right, but if they were correct about what he was doing, she wanted to be a part of stopping him “Whatever happens, it’s worth the risk,” she said.
Alejandro leaned forward. “Tomorrow, if the situation goes south, you do exactly what I say. ? Comprendes ?”
“ Sí, está bien .”
“This time, you will follow my lead?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He spoke with feeling and a fierceness that gave her comfort.
“I’ll be fine, and I promise to do whatever you tell me. Besides, I know whatever happens, I’m safe with you.”
Alejandro sat back. Their conversation had allayed his concerns. For now.