Caught in the Act (25 page)

Maria had relayed a terse message from Chuy: same time, same place. Kari would return to the tile manufacturer for the pickup.

Adam’s manner was brusque and businesslike, no friendlier than she expected. She left the house and ran like the devil was at her heels, studying every passing car with trepidation. The occupants could be undercover officers or a drug kingpin’s spies.

At the corner of her block, she hit an uneven section of sidewalk and went sprawling into a brick flower planter.

Crying out in pain and shock, she rolled to a sitting position in her neighbor’s hydrangeas. Both of her elbows were scraped and one knee was skinned badly. “Shit,” she muttered, glancing around. There was no concerned citizen in her immediate vicinity, no secret agent rushing to help her.

Good.

Brushing away crushed petals and loose dirt, she got
up and limped home. By the time she arrived at the front door, a trickle of blood had snaked down her shin, staining her ankle-high athletic sock.

“
Pobrecita,”
Maria exclaimed, turning off the stove. “What happened?”

“I fell.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m just going to shower off.”

Maria looked doubtful but didn’t argue. It occurred to Kari that she was more like a mother than a wife. Which was odd, considering their respective ages and Kari’s tendency to take care of everything. Shaking her head, she walked straight to the bathroom and turned on the shower, stripping off her dirty clothes.

Her elbows were fine but the knee looked ugly.

Groaning, she stepped into the shower and closed her eyes. Although she felt a strong urge to cry, she didn’t give in to it. This was not the time to break down. Tears could come later, when she held Sasha in her arms.

She toweled herself dry, moving the terry cloth gingerly over her raw knee. After applying four bandage strips from the medicine cabinet, she wrapped the towel around her body and walked to her room. The outfit she’d described to Adam was laid out on the bed: loose-fitting jeans, a red tank top, and white tennis shoes. Sex appeal wasn’t getting her across the border today. She put on the comfortable clothes and fashioned a quick ponytail before checking her appearance in the vanity mirror.

She had dark circles under her eyes, her pupils were huge, and her face was pale. “I’m a drug smuggler,” she said out loud, staring at her reflection. “I’m a crazy drug smuggler who talks to herself.”

In the kitchen, Kari sat down to a healthy breakfast she couldn’t eat. Her stomach roiled with tension, rebelling at the smell of food.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Maria asked, taking the seat across from her. She sipped coffee, her face full of concern.

“What choice do I have?”

“We can run away.”

She smiled at the idea. “To where?”

Maria thought about it for a minute. “Canada!”

Kari was afraid to laugh. She couldn’t show any emotion, high or low. The only way to survive this day was with an even, pervasive numbness. After choking down a few bites of toast, she left the table to finish getting ready. It was just shy of ten o’clock when she dropped off Maria at the Hotel del Oro.

Chuy had insisted that Maria work today.

“Are
you
sure you want to do this?” Kari asked.

“Of course.”

Kari studied her pretty face, wondering if she had a few screws loose. “You don’t owe me anything, Maria.”

“Now you make insult,” she said. “I have other reasons.”

“Like what?”

“You brought me to this country, but God brought me to you. He sent Agent Foster to save me when I was in the desert. I am here by His grace. When the choice is to help or not help, I always know what to do.”

Kari’s chest tightened at the words, and she wasn’t even religious. She envied Maria’s straightforward outlook, but she couldn’t imagine choosing right from wrong with such certainty. Much less acting on it.

What Kari could imagine, far more easily, was losing
Maria. She’d lost her sister to drugs, her mother to cancer, and her father to a heart attack. This not-so-simple girl from Mexico had filled an empty place in Kari’s heart. She was struck by the crippling fear that she’d never see Maria again.

“Be careful,” she said, clearing her throat. “And I—I love you.”

Maria chuckled, hitching her purse on her shoulder. “
Ay, amor
. Now you are really scaring me.”

“I mean it.”

“I know,” she said, kissing Kari’s cheek.

Kari watched Maria walk across the courtyard, her dark hair shining in the sun. If—
when
—they got through this, she was going to help Maria apply for citizenship and offer her a job at Zócalo.

As soon as Maria was out of sight, Kari drove away from the hotel and crossed the border into Tijuana. The sleepless night and constant anxiety wore her down, leaving her frayed nerves on edge. Her eyes felt grainy; the sun was too bright. The entire situation seemed surreal, like a bad acid trip. She’d tried mushrooms once with Sasha and spent the night in the bathroom, her head swimming with vertigo.

She needed a vacation. She’d planned to take some time off to get Sasha settled at an affordable rehab. A few of those days could be spent at the beach, recuperating. Kari visualized pounding surf and clean saltwater, washing away her troubles.

She turned down the gravel road that led to the tile manufacturer, her hands clenched around the steering wheel. Just before she pulled into the parking lot, a man standing next to a dark blue SUV gestured for her to slow.

Heart hammering against her chest, she pressed on the brakes.

“Park there and get out,” he said, pointing at the side of the road.

She followed his orders, handing him her car keys when he held out his palm. He was a short man with small hands. Not friendly, but not menacing. She crossed her arms over her chest, watching him drive away.

She didn’t dare call Adam to tell him of the slight change in plans. What did it matter where the drugs had been stashed? Maybe the tile store wasn’t one of Moreno’s Tijuana-based strongholds.

For a few bleak minutes she stared down the dusty road, half hoping the man wouldn’t come back.

But he did return, slowing to a stop and hopping out. “It’s ready.”

Kari murmured a thank-you, as if he’d done her some great favor by filling her van with illegal substances. Shaking her head, she climbed behind the wheel and turned around, heading north, toward the border.

She hadn’t thought her tension level could increase, but it did. Her last trip had rated a ten out of ten, anxiety-wise. This one was off the charts. As she entered the traffic gridlock, her heartbeat surged erratically and black dots danced before her eyes.

She pinched her hand, terrified she would pass out.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Kari tried to think good thoughts. Images from her last night with Adam danced in her head, but they failed to calm her. When the metallic tang of blood filled her mouth, she realized she’d bitten her lower lip.

Her empty stomach lurched in protest. She grabbed a plastic trash bag and heaved into it quietly, her back
bowed toward the passenger side, vision blurring with tears. Finally, the nausea passed. She found a tissue in her purse to wipe the blood and bile from her mouth. Shuddering with distaste, she tied a knot in the trash bag and tossed it on the floor on the passenger side. Then she drank a small amount of bottled water, spitting the first sip out the window.

Yuck.

The lines moved fast today, which was both a blessing and a curse. She pulled into the shade at the inspection booth before she felt composed, her wary eyes darting toward a CBP officer who wasn’t Adam.

“Citizenship?”

“U.S.,” she murmured, handing him her passport.

“Anything to declare?”

Her heart kicked against her ribs. She pictured it exploding like a firecracker, obliterating her chest cavity. “No,” she said. “Nothing.”

“What’s the reason for your visit?”

Although the question was standard, Kari wasn’t prepared for it. She’d thought she was picking up tile crates. Instead, there were a couple of large shipping boxes in the cargo space, the same kind she’d smuggled Maria in. What should she say was back there, television sets? Did it matter what she said?

As long as Adam had kept his word, she should pass inspection.

“Shopping,” she said quickly. “I was shopping.”

Dark sunglasses covered the officer’s eyes, but she sensed his scrutiny. “Just a moment, ma’am.” Taking her passport with him, he stepped inside his cubicle at the inspection booth, touching the radio at his shoulder.

Had something gone wrong?

She moistened her lips, tasting blood again. Shit! Pulse racing, she glanced around for Adam. He wasn’t there.

The officer reappeared at her window. “Move forward to the secondary inspection area,” he said, pointing to the right.

Kari’s stomach dropped with the realization that Adam had betrayed her.

It was a quiet morning at the Hotel del Oro.

Although there were few guests and fewer rooms to clean, the air crackled with energy. Maria felt certain that the shipment Kari was smuggling over the border would end up here. Maybe it was a bigger haul than usual, or a more lucrative deal. Chuy paced the courtyard, his ear stuck to a cell phone.

Armando whittled away at a piece of wood, unconcerned.

Sonia, the receptionist, called Maria into the lobby at noon. One of the guests had dropped a six-pack of beer near the front desk, leaving foam and broken glass all over the tile. Maria swept up the glass and mopped the floor, placing a yellow caution sign at the entrance. Before she left, Sonia snapped her fingers. “Take care of that, too,” she said in Spanish, pointing out an orange stain behind the potted plant in the corner.

Maria nodded, grabbing a spray bottle from her supply cart. The lobby was Sonia’s responsibility, but she was too much of a princess to empty trash cans or scrub floors.

Maria didn’t mind. She felt sorry for Sonia, who seemed desperately unhappy. The pretty receptionist could do a lot better than Chuy Pena. He wasn’t rich or
handsome or even that powerful. And he certainly didn’t treat her well.

Sonia was probably aware that Chuy had dragged Maria into his room last week. She seemed to know everything that went on at the hotel, despite her ambivalence toward the lesser employees. She’d given Maria several warning glares, letting her know that she wouldn’t tolerate any poaching on her man.

As if Maria wanted that
cochino
.

Wrinkling her nose, she knelt behind the potted plant and sprayed the tiles with cleaning solution. It looked like melted candy, thick and sticky. She sat back on her heels, giving it a chance to soak. She was thinking about getting Irma’s gum scraper when Chuy walked into the lobby. He didn’t notice her, which wasn’t unusual.

Good maids were invisible.

If Sonia remembered Maria’s presence, she didn’t care. When Chuy sat down in a chair behind the reception desk, Sonia started massaging his shoulders and pressing her cleavage against his arm. “You’re so tense,” she murmured. “Want me to relax you?”

“I don’t have time,” he said, but his voice sounded rough. Tempted.

“When is the delivery?”

“Soon.”

Sonia must have taken that as an invitation to proceed. She walked around the front of his chair and sank down, out of sight.

Maria stayed behind the potted plant, shocked into silence. It was a poor hiding place. Although Chuy had his back to her, he could turn his head and catch sight of her at any moment. If she got caught eavesdropping
again, he’d be furious. She held her breath, waiting for the opportunity to sneak away.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me be the decoy,” Sonia murmured. Maria detected the faint rasp of a lowering zipper.

“You don’t want that job, baby.”

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t pay.”

“What’s she going to get?”

“Exactly what she deserves.”

“You’re so clever,” she cooed.

“Shut up,” he said, ever the suave gentleman. There was a slight choking sound that Maria supposed meant Sonia had gotten down to business.

Time to go. She crawled out from behind the potted plant and crept toward the open front doors, keeping her body low. Moving carefully around the caution sign, she slipped through the entrance.

When he didn’t chase after her, she figured she’d made a clean escape. Racing to the laundry room, she found Irma. “Can I use your phone?”

“What for?”

“It’s an emergency.”

Irma’s expression was doubtful, but she rummaged through her purse, handing Maria a battered-looking cell phone.

“Thanks,” Maria said, running out the back door to make the call. She punched Ian’s number with shaking fingers, listening to the abbreviated trill. Maybe she should have tried Kari first.
Chingado!

He answered on the second ring. “Who is this?”

“Maria,” she said, glancing around the mostly empty
parking lot. “I just heard Chuy say that Kari is a decoy. I think she’s in trouble. You have to help her.”

“Slow down—”

“I can’t! They’re coming across the border right now.”

“Where are you?”

“At the hotel.”

“Be more specific.”

“Outside the laundry room.”

“Shit,” he said, his voice rising. “I can see you from my apartment window.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You need to get the fuck out of there! Go toward the parking lot. Take the phone with you and run, right now.”

Although Maria understood his warning, she didn’t follow his orders. She couldn’t steal Irma’s cell phone. Besides, fleeing the hotel suddenly might make Chuy suspicious and put Kari in danger. Then she heard the click of a safety release behind her and realized that the short hesitation might have cost her her life.

This operation was about to go down in the clusterfuck hall of fame.

Making arrangements for today had been complicated, to say the least. Adam couldn’t waltz up to his superior and tell him that he’d organized a sting with a civilian. After Kari left his house the other night, he’d called Ian to brainstorm some ideas.