El Gavilan (22 page)

“How long will you keep him?”

“At least several weeks, I’m guessing.”

“When I can see him?”

“Leave a number with the nurses at the desk. We’ll call you when we bring him back around.”

Able stood and offered Patricia a hand. She accepted it and he steadied her as she stood. “You going to be okay, Ms. Maldonado?”

“I’ll be fine, Sheriff. It’s Shawn who is suffering. Just find who did this and make them pay.”

“That’s my job,” Able said.

THEN

Sofia Gómez and daughter Thalia drifted from the party room out onto a balcony overlooking a shaded lagoon. They were both a little tipsy.

Sophia’s friend’s daughter had married a white … one with
prospects.
The wedding reception was held at the clubhouse of a very exclusive golf club—one at which Sofia doubted she could even get a cleaning job. Sophia hated to think what Thalia must be thinking; the jealousy she must feel for this other young Latina’s new life.

Neither Sofia nor Thalia had ever had much champagne and now both had sampled too much. Tongues were loosened, inhibitions lowered. Better judgment was dulled.

Searching her mother’s face, Thalia said, “Was it worth it, mother? Do you still find it all was worth it? Coming here, I mean. All those we lost crossing … ?”

Thalia’s dark eyes were smoldering, accusing. Sofia actually flinched at the edge in her daughter’s voice. Thalia pressed harder. “Mother,
answer
. Is this life truly better? We barely make rent. Evelia’s grades are suffering because of all the illegals coming in. My job—all that I can get—is terrible. Mother,
was
it worth it?” She reached over and squeezed Sophia’s arm.
“Is it
?
”

Sofia kept staring at her hands, into her drink with its rising column of bubbles.

“Mother …”

She shrugged, still unable to meet her daughter’s eyes. “You can’t remember how it was back there, Thalia. They was no money there, either.”

“But was it worse? Truly worse?” Thalia sighed at her mother’s silence. “Mother, stop staring at your hands. Was it worse? Is this
truly
better?”

Despite her daughter’s pleas, Sofia never answered her questions.

Putting words to it, admitting all those deaths were for nothing? For Sofia, that was unthinkable.

THIRTY FOUR

He was holding Trent Paris in the cell recently vacated by Shawn. Tell hadn’t yet allowed his prisoner to make a phone call, but he had offered to contact an attorney for Trent if the young man had one in mind.

Tell had been given a report of Shawn’s beating and condition when he reached Billy Davis at the hospital. He’d called to order Billy back to sit as guard so Tell could go back out and find this partner of Trent’s, Amos Sharp.

Julie walked back to the holding cell area and said, “Chief Lyon, you have a couple of visitors. Mrs. Sofia Gómez and Evelia Ruiz.”

Tell said, “‘Ruiz’? Related to Thalia?”

“Her daughter, yes, Chief Lyon. Sofia Gómez is Thalia Ruiz’s mother.”

“Billy here yet, Julie?”

“Just radioed that he’s two minutes out.”

“Great. Send him straight back here to watch our prisoner,” Tell said. “And go ahead and escort our visitors to my desk, would you, Julie?”

* * *

The only picture that Tell had seen of Thalia Ruiz was an unremarkable, poorly lit driver’s license photo that he’d called up from the DMV computer system. Thalia was unsmiling in that impromptu portrait. It was hard to make any judgments regarding her looks. Yet the older woman seated beside Tell’s desk was unmistakably Thalia’s mother. And the little girl—black hair and black eyes—was beautiful. She unsettled Tell, suggesting his dead daughter’s unspoiled features just enough to hurt.

“Would you care for coffee,
señora
?”

Sofia shook her head. “I’ve come for a report of your progress finding the man who violated and murdered my daughter. I see you on TV talking about Thalia’s murder, and making statements to the newspapers, but you’ve never spoken with me. Why is that?”

Her eyes came to rest on the photos of Marita and Claudia that Tell had had copied from the ones at home and had recently placed on his desk. She said, “Your family?”

“Yes.”

“They are very beautiful.”

“So is your granddaughter, Mrs. Gómez.”

She nodded. “About this inquiry, Officer. Why have you not come to me?”

“My department is working closely with the county sheriff’s department to solve this crime—combining resources so we can do more than either of our departments might working alone. I know that Able Hawk has—”

“Have you a suspect,
Jefe
?”

“Possibly.” Tell said, “Listen, I’ll tell you all I can, but would you mind if I asked Julie, who let you in, to distract your granddaughter? Evelia shouldn’t hear this.”

“That is very thoughtful of you. Yes, please.”

Tell called to Julie. She turned from the radio desk. “Yes, Chief Lyon?”

Tell fished out his wallet and pulled out a ten-dollar bill.

“Julie, I need about fifteen or twenty minutes with Mrs. Gómez alone. I’ll cover the radios and phone. Could you please take Evelia here next door to Graeters and buy her an ice cream cone or sundae? And treat yourself.”

“Sure, Chief Lyon.” Julie held out a hand and Evelia slid off her grandmother’s knee and took the dispatcher’s hand and waved once to her grandmother, unsmiling.

“You behave, Eve,” Sofia Gómez said. She turned back to Tell and said, “I’m concerned that time has passed but there has been no word of progress, Chief Lyon. I’m worried that nothing is really being done. Perhaps this is because Thalia was Mexican.”

Tell raised a hand. “No. Don’t even think that, please. Your daughter was a citizen of the United States and under my protection. I’m committed to finding the ones who did this and seeing that they pay for your daughter’s death.”

“And what of Sheriff Hawk who you and the papers say you’re working with—the one they call
El Gavilan
? He came to tell me of my daughter’s death. He came to make me look at a photo of a tattoo to confirm it was Thalia who was dead. I’ve not seen or heard from that man since.”

“Able Hawk considered Thalia to be his good friend,” Tell said. “He told me he spoke to her each day before lunch. He went to the diner where she worked to visit with her. Able Hawk looked forward to seeing Thalia each morning.”

“Thalia spoke of him too,” Sofia said. “And yet, days have passed and I’ve not heard a word from this friend of my daughter’s about his attempts to find her killer.”

“Sheriff Hawk is taking this
very
personally,” Tell said. “I can see he’s sincere about that. We both mean to find who did this and make them pay.”

“The reporter who was in custody—the one Thalia spent her last night with—it’s been on the radio that he was beaten nearly to death. Did that have something to do with my daughter?”

“Only in so far as the ones who attacked the reporter were male Latinos. My officers report that before they beat him, his attackers told Mr. O’Hara he was going to be punished for sleeping with your daughter and then sneaking out on her the next morning. For leaving her vulnerable to what came next.”

Mrs. Gómez seemed to consider that. Then she said, “I hope I’m wrong in my belief that you will devote more time—achieve faster results—in finding those that hurt that reporter than the man who killed my daughter.”

“Your daughter’s murder is my number one priority,” Tell said. “I know it is Able Hawk’s, as well.”

The older woman looked again at the pictures on Tell’s desk. “I’m sorry, Chief Lyon. Sorry for implying some racism on your part. Clearly that would not be so in your case. Your wife and daughter are beautiful. Where is your wife from?”

Tell smiled. “San Diego. Marita’s family was originally from Veracruz.”

Sofia Gómez smiled back. “So were we.” Sofia told Tell the story of her family’s crossing. Told him of the loss of Thalia’s grandmother and the others. When she finished the tale of their ill-fated border crossing, Sofia said, “But I’m told you were Border Patrol before coming here to be
jefe
. I’m sure that story of what happened to mine is nothing particularly striking to you. I’m sure you’ve seen the same, perhaps worse, there in the desert doing your other job.”

“It never stops affecting you,” Tell said. “Not unless you are truly dead inside.”

“How old is your daughter, Chief Lyon?”

“She was three when that picture was taken,” Tell said. He looked at the pictures. “My family was murdered last year. Both are unsolved killings. So I take what happened to your daughter very personally. I won’t let your daughter’s death be like those of my family—unsolved. We
will
get these people, I promise you that.”

“What happened to your family, Chief? If that is not too personal a question?”

“After the story you shared with me? No, I owe you a hard story of my own.” So Tell told Sofia of the killing of his wife and daughter.

She shook her head sadly afterward. “And they were never caught—their killers?”

“No,” Tell said. “It was impossible to make a case against them. They were very careful in their planning and execution to see to that. They were paid killers. Very professional.”

“But you knew who they were?”

“No, not for certain.”

That was a lie.

Tell had known well enough. His cousin, Chris, left his own family in Ohio and came to California alone—or
nearly
alone—for Marita’s and Claudia’s funerals. Chris had brought along a “special friend” … some dead-eyed Scots mercenary. He was another of Chris’s myriad, mysterious acquaintances collected during the years that Chris and Tell had drifted apart.

The three of them, accompanied by two of Tell’s Border Patrol confreres and a retired Texas Ranger, had gone out in the desert and sought out Tell’s family’s killers. They left the bodies of the Coyotes for the real coyotes; for the ants and big, ragged-winged desert birds.

“I’m sorry for your sake you didn’t know, that you couldn’t avenge your family,” Sofia Gómez said, looking Tell hard in the eye. “I want my baby’s killers to pay. I want them to die for what they’ve done.”

“Able Hawk has already told me he wishes to seek the death penalty for them.”

“You said something, Chief. You were speaking of my daughter’s murder and you said, ‘the ones’ who did it. You talked as though you’re sure that there is more than one who killed my Thalia. And later you vowed to me, ‘We will get
these
people
.’”

Tell smiled. “You’re a close listener. And you’re a clever woman, Mrs. Gómez.”

“Do you have someone you suspect?”

“In a manner of speaking. First tell me, do you know if your daughter knew anybody who drives a big red pickup truck? A Dodge Ram, perhaps?”

“I don’t. I know nobody who drives one, either.” She sat forward. “Why do you ask about that car?”

“I can’t speak in detail about this, even to you, Mrs. Gómez. Not until I know more. All I will say is that it’s possible there were some camera images that captured the dropping of your daughter’s body in that field where she was found. Two men in a big red pickup truck.”

“Mexican men?”

“No. It’s impossible to say for certain right now, but I think whites.”

“Please tell me more.”

“I can’t yet. I’m sorry. I have to have the film looked at by specialists and then I may know more. And I need to talk to Sheriff Hawk. He’s not aware of this development yet; I haven’t had time to fill him in. But we are working closely together. We mean to bring the killers to justice, Mrs. Gómez. I swear to you we will do everything in our power to do that.”

“Within the law?”

“Within the law.”

“Thank you for seeing me. I’m grateful for this talk,
Jefe
.”

“I wish we had more time to talk,” Tell said. “But I have something else I need to be doing now.”

Sofia squeezed his arm—surprising strength in that old hand of hers. “Thank you for sharing the story of your family. You’re a strong man to come through and continue doing what you do. You’re a good man. I’m glad you’re the one working for my Thalia.”

Tell offered her his arm and she slipped her arm through his. He said, “I’ll walk you next door to collect your granddaughter.”

“The other sheriff, Walter Pierce? I do not like him, Chief Lyon. He came to my house and searched Thalia’s room. He took her sheets, her unwashed clothes.”

“He was looking for DNA then.” Tell wanted to kick himself. He should have taken a more active hand in terms of going over to the Gómez house the night of the murder instead of interrogating all those baseball players and fans who saw nothing. As simple procedure, he might have thought to have had Thalia’s bed clothes bagged. Now more possible trace evidence was denied him and Able.

Sofia Gómez stopped and took her arm from Tell’s. “My daughter did not bring men in my house. She wasn’t like that. There was never a man with her in that room. But perhaps if she had done that, she’d be alive still.”

“You can’t think like that, Mrs. Gómez.”

“I can’t control my own thoughts anymore. I can’t
believe
anymore. You must know what it is like. Remember when we still had God? What do we have when we no longer have Him?”

“The ones we love. The ones who matter to us.”

“And the ones who killed my daughter?”

Tell took her arm again, slipped it through his own and closed his other hand over her arm. “You have that little girl to care for. You have to protect her. Let me see to finding and punishing those men.”

“Better than I did my own, one hopes. Evelia, and my niece, who might as well be a child,” Sofia said. “She’s twenty-two and already many months pregnant without me knowing for certain the man responsible.”

“If, in the days ahead, there’s anything I might do … ?”

“Thank you, Chief. Thank you,
Jefe
. We’ll make it. But I’m not young, and Evelia is.”

“And your niece? You said there is no man there to take responsibility for her condition?”

“Maybe a man,” Sofia said. “A young man. Hardly more than a boy himself, really, if my suspicions are correct.”