The Choice (55 page)

They reached Rosalita's trailer. Her car was parked out front. There was no sign of activity outside.

“I think Maria was in the other trailer and didn't want to answer the door,” Jeremy said.

“Maybe, but she spends a lot of time with her cousin.”

“I'll check.”

“I should come,” Sandy said. “Rosalita knows me.”

Sandy glanced over at Dusty, who opened his door when he saw them both get out of Sandy's car. He joined them. There was barely room for the three of them on the rickety wooden landing in front of the door. Sandy knocked and waited. There was no response. She knocked louder.

“Rosalita!” she called out. “It's Ms. Lincoln from the school!”

A window near the door was covered with a flimsy curtain. Sandy thought she saw movement as the curtain was quickly moved back, then closed.

“Someone is there,” she said. “Rosalita has several children.”

“Try again,” Jeremy said.

Sandy banged on the door.

“Rosalita! Maria!”

Jeremy put his ear to the metal door.

“There's someone inside,” he said. “I can hear a voice speaking in Spanish.”

“But if they don't want to open the door, there's nothing we can do to make them—” Jeremy reached for the door handle.

“No!” Sandy said. “Stop!”

Ignoring her, Jeremy turned the handle and pulled the door open a few inches. Before Sandy could see inside the trailer, the door was shoved violently into them, knocking Sandy off the landing onto the ground. Dazed, she looked up as a stocky young Hispanic man with closely cut hair appeared in the doorframe. He had a pistol in his hand. Jeremy stepped back. Dusty inched toward the edge of the landing.

“What are you doing here?” the man demanded in Spanish, pushing the revolver into Dusty's chest.

Dusty raised his hands and gave him a blank look.

“Looking for Maria Alverez,” Sandy replied in Spanish, her voice trembling. “If she's not here, we'll leave.”

The man glanced over his shoulder and swore. He pointed the gun at Jeremy, then Sandy.

“Get inside. All of you. Now!”

“He wants us to go inside the trailer,” Sandy said.

“What do you want?” Dusty asked.

“Shut up!” the man shouted in English. “No talking!”

Sandy gingerly got up from the ground. She'd landed on her tailbone.

“Are you hurt?” Dusty asked from the porch.

Before Sandy could answer, the man with the gun shoved it into Dusty's stomach so hard the lawyer doubled over. He grabbed Dusty by the arm and dragged him into the trailer.

“Lie down!” he commanded in Spanish.

Dusty, still stooped over, hesitated, and the man sharply kicked the back of Dusty's legs, causing his knees to buckle.

“Stay on the floor!” Sandy said to Dusty in English, then repeated the phrase in Spanish.

The man looked at Sandy and nodded. Holding on to the thin wooden railing, Sandy climbed the steps. Jeremy took her arm to steady her. As soon as they were inside the trailer, the man jerked Jeremy to his knees and pointed at the floor. Jeremy lay down on his stomach beside Dusty. They were in a small living area with the kitchen to the right. A tattered rug partially covered the floor. There was no sign of anyone else inside the trailer. Sandy started to lie down too, but the man held his arm in front of her and shook his head.

“Don't move!” he said to Jeremy and Dusty.

Sandy translated. The man was wearing a dirty gray T-shirt, ragged jeans, and cowboy boots. His pants were held up by a belt with a large shiny buckle. He'd not shaved for days. Sandy heard a muffled sound down a hallway to her left but saw no one.

“What do you want with Maria?” he asked.

“To talk to her,” Sandy said, unsuccessfully trying to keep her voice from shaking. “But we can leave and come back another time.”

“And call the police?” the man sneered. “I am not a fool. Tell the men to give me their cell phones.”

“He wants your cell phones,” Sandy said.

Jeremy slipped his phone from the front pocket of his shirt and slid it across the floor, faceup. The wallpaper picture was Jeremy with his arms around Chloe and Zach.

“Mine is in the car,” Dusty said.

Sandy translated. The man kicked Dusty in the side of the face. Dusty cried out in pain. The man then leaned over and quickly ran his hands along Dusty's body while the lawyer moaned. He took out Dusty's wallet and car keys and placed them on a small table near the door.

“Where is your cell phone?” the man asked Sandy.

“In my purse in the car.”

The man eyed her for a moment, then raised his foot in the air and smashed Jeremy's phone with the heel of his boot. The plastic cracked at the impact, and the picture disappeared. Sandy glanced into the kitchen and saw the refrigerator.

“Move apart,” the man said to Jeremy and Dusty. “About three feet.”

Sandy translated, and the two men moved away from each other. The man with the gun stopped Jeremy by putting his foot on top of Jeremy's head. He pushed down for a moment but didn't kick him. Sandy racked her brain for something to say.

“You can tie us up and take my car,” she said. “I have over two hundred dollars in my purse.”

The man grabbed her face and pointed the gun at a spot between her eyes.

“And how far do you think I would get?” he asked.

The tight grip the man had on her cheeks kept Sandy from answering. She looked in his eyes. They were cold and dark. He released his grip and roughly shoved her head to the side.

“Go into that room,” he said, pointing down a short hallway. “And bring me the roll of gray tape that's on the table beside the bed.”

Sandy moved slowly down the hall. Her tailbone was aching. When she neared the door, she glanced back at the man, who motioned for her to go forward. The door to the room was open. When she looked inside, she saw two of Rosalita's girls, their wrists wrapped in duct tape and their mouths taped shut, lying on their backs on a small bed. Their eyes were red and filled with fear. Sitting on the floor beside the bed was Rosalita. Her hands and feet were wrapped in tape and her mouth covered. Across the room from Rosalita, Maria was similarly bound. She looked at Sandy and sadly shook her head.

“Is that Emilio?” Sandy asked in a whisper.

Both Maria and Rosalita nodded. There was a large roll of duct tape on a nightstand beside the bed where the two girls were lying. Sandy picked it up.

“Hurry up!” Emilio shouted.

“Is your gun still on top of the refrigerator?” Sandy asked Rosalita as she leaned over to get the tape.

Rosalita nodded.

“Is it loaded?”

Rosalita nodded, then shook her head.

“Are there bullets in the gun?” Sandy repeated.

Her eyes wide, Rosalita grunted. Sandy reached for the tape to pull it back from her mouth.

“Get out here now!” Emilio shouted.

Sandy left the room and hobbled down the hallway with the tape in her hand.

“Come on, come on,” Emilio said impatiently.

When Sandy reached Emilio, he grabbed the tape and pushed her against the wall. A sharp pain went through her lower back.

“Stay there,” he ordered. “Keep your hands by your sides and don't move.”

Emilio grabbed Dusty's wrists and taped them together behind his back. He then bound Dusty's feet together, rolled him over, and slapped a piece of tape across his mouth. For a moment Emilio had his back to Jeremy. Sandy saw Jeremy reach out toward a stool in front of the small table. He got his hand around the leg of the stool, all the time keeping his eyes on Emilio.

“Don't!” she called out.

Emilio swung around, saw Jeremy's extended hand, and stomped it with his boot. Jeremy cried out in pain and grabbed his wrist. Emilio threw the stool across the room and then kicked Jeremy in the stomach. He put the gun to Jeremy's head and threw the tape onto the floor.

“Get over here,” he said to Sandy. “Put the tape around his hands and feet.”

Sandy picked up the tape and knelt on the floor.

“Feet first,” Emilio ordered.

Sandy wrapped the tape around Jeremy's ankles several times while Emilio watched.

“Now his hands,” Emilio said. “Behind his back.”

When Sandy picked up Jeremy's right wrist, he cried out. It was tilted oddly to the left. Tears rushed into Sandy's eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

“Shut up,” Emilio said.

Sandy gently held Jeremy's wrist in her hand and brought his other hand closer. She wrapped the tape once around his wrists, trying not to put too much pressure on the bones. As soon as she brought the tape around once, Emilio pushed her away. He made two more quick rounds with the tape, each one causing Jeremy to cry out in pain. Emilio stood up, leaving Jeremy lying on his stomach with his face pressed against the floor. Emilio didn't put any tape over Jeremy's mouth.

“Get Maria and Rosalita and bring them here,” Emilio said.

“Can I take the tape off their feet?”

“Yes.”

Sandy returned to the bedroom. She knelt in front of Maria and was about to ask another question about the gun when she saw Emilio out of the corner of her eye watching from the doorway. Sandy's hands shook as she ripped the tape away from Maria's ankles. Maria stood up. Her hands were bound behind her. Sandy moved to Rosalita and freed her feet.

“Do you know who I am?” Emilio asked while Sandy was still kneeling in front of Rosalita.

“You're Emilio.”

They returned to the front room.

“Lie down on your stomachs,” he commanded Maria and Rosalita.

The two women lay with their faces to the floor.

“Tape their feet,” Emilio said to Sandy. “Make sure it's tight.”

Emilio watched as Sandy bound the women.

“We have a big problem here,” Emilio said as Sandy finished with Rosalita. “I came back to town to get my money and found out that people were asking bad questions about me and Maria. Is that your fault?”

Sandy remembered her conversation with Mimi Randolph.

“Yes,” she said, then pointed at Jeremy and Dusty. “They had nothing to do with it.”

“You brought them here, didn't you?”

“But they don't know what you did to Maria.”

Emilio hit Sandy in the face with the back of his hand. She staggered sideways. Emilio then glared down at Maria, who turned her face away from him toward the wall.

The blow stung, but Sandy felt strangely calm. Emilio stared at her for a moment, then gestured toward Jeremy.

“I can hit you, but it will hurt you more if I do something to this one, right?” he asked.

Sandy didn't respond.

“What about this one?” Emilio stepped over and nudged Dusty with his toe but kept his eyes on Sandy's face.

Dusty's face was turned away from them. There was a nasty red welt forming on the side of his face where he'd been kicked.

“I care about both of them,” Sandy said. “But they can't help with your big problem. I can.”

Startled, Emilio looked at her. “What can you do for me?”

“I don't want Rosalita or Maria to hear. Can we go into the kitchen and talk?”

Emilio eyed her suspiciously.

“You can still see them from there,” Sandy said.

Emilio waved his gun across the bodies on the floor.

“Nobody move. I'll be watching.”

Sandy moved slowly into the kitchen. The refrigerator was on the left. It was decorated with school artwork by Rosalita's daughters. Sandy moved past the refrigerator and stopped. It wasn't a large unit, but Emilio was directly in front of her, and she couldn't sneak a look on top.

“I can help you get what you want and then get away without getting caught by the police,” Sandy said. “Are you here for the money Rosalita's husband owes you?”

“Yes,” Emilio answered in a low voice. “Rosalita has hidden it. I'm going to the bedroom where her children are. When they scream, she'll tell me where it is. And I'm not going to leave Maria here. She's coming with me. I told her I would take care of her, but Rosalita filled her head with lies.”

“Let me talk to Rosalita about the money. And Maria can go with you, but she and Rosalita can't know what you're going to do or where you're going to go. Here is my idea—”

Sandy stopped and glanced past Emilio into the area where Jeremy and Dusty lay on the floor.

“Don't move!” she called out in English.

Emilio spun around. When he did, Sandy ran her hand across the top of the refrigerator. She felt the cool metal of a gun and grabbed it. She pulled back the hammer and held the weapon out in front of her with both hands.

“It's okay,” Emilio said as he turned back toward Sandy. “They're still tied up—”

He saw the gun in Sandy's hands, and his jaw dropped open. Sandy closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. She didn't know if she would hear a dull click of the hammer hitting an empty magazine or the roar of exploding gunpowder from a bullet. The sound of the gun discharging in the enclosed area was deafening. When Sandy opened her eyes, Emilio had stepped back and was leaning against the kitchen counter. Sandy rushed past him toward the door. If she could make it outside, she could run for help.

“Stop!” Emilio commanded.

Sandy tripped over Dusty's legs and fell to the floor. The gun slid out of her hand and down the hallway toward the bedroom.

“Go,” Jeremy said through clenched teeth. “Get out.”

Sandy scrambled to her feet and faced Emilio, who was standing at the edge of the kitchen with his gun pointed directly at her. The calm Sandy felt earlier returned. Instead of running, she waited for Emilio to pull the trigger. Then she watched in horror as Emilio's hand moved away from her and downward toward Dusty's upper body.

“No!” she cried out in English. “He's my son!”