In Desperation

46

Mesa Mirage, Phoenix, Arizona

“T here’s been a troubling break in the case.”

That’s what Isabel Luna’s last text to Jack Gannon said. Luna gave him no other details, saying only that she would call later.

That was over an hour ago.

Gannon was hammering on his laptop and burning up cell phone minutes in Cora’s living room, going full tilt at everything and getting nowhere. He’d struck out on tracing the phone number tied to the woman who’d hired the private investigation agency to find Cora’s home.

He got nothing.

He called his best source, Adell Clark. She’d struck out. “I suspect it’s a cartel number, Jack. Could be a prepaid phone. Or a case of phone companies being paid to act as if these numbers do not exist.”

Confusion and anger welled in his chest as he reexamined the allegations by Peck, the man Cora said was Tilly’s father, and Lomax, Cora’s pimp. “Your sister got into trouble with a cartel a long time ago-the worst kind.” What happened? And who was Donnie Cargo? Why had Cora refused to talk about him?

Was this linked to Tilly?

Increasingly, the FBI was looking harder at Cora. The mistrust swirling about the case was deepening.

Gannon looked at the photo of Tilly, the niece he didn’t know, and tried to make sense of it all, tried to make sense of Cora. At one point, she had been the most important person in his life. Now she was alien to him.

How had their lives changed so much?

He had always figured the critical moment was that night at their home. He was eleven years old, Cora was sixteen. She was flitting between the bathroom and her room getting ready for her first official date, carefully applying makeup, spritzing perfume, putting on jewelry, dressing up.

Looking different.

That’s when he knew that Cora was no longer the older kid who knew how things worked in the family, how things worked in life. She was no longer his big sistermentor. She had been transformed into someone else. She had other priorities. In taking her first steps to becoming a young woman, she had started her journey away from him.

Leaving him behind.

Leaving him alone.

Then came the night of Cora’s Armageddon with Mom and Dad-the night she left and never came back.

That was that.

And now after all these years, Cora needed him. Needed him. The ghostly reminders of their mother and father were surreal-in her face, her voice, every little thing; the way she moved, even the way she’d arranged her kitchen. Canisters this way, pot holders here, the kettle there, all the same way Mom set up her kitchen.

It haunted him.

As for what was happening, he stared blankly. He had no control anymore, no control over who he was, over the situation, the story, over anything.

All he knew was that a clock was ticking down on Tilly’s life.

Cora woke and in that millisecond of torpor before the nerve cells in her brain connected, everything was right in her life.

Tilly is home. Safe. Happy.

But the instant everything registered, the terrible reality crashed on her.

Tilly is gone. It’s my fault because of the life I’ve lived.

The sedative had enabled Cora to rest, but it was useless against her anguish. How could she live, how could she go on with her daughter stolen from her life?

How?

She couldn’t make sense out of what went wrong with Lyle. She ached to talk to him.

If only she could wind back time, go all the way back to every mistake she’d made that had led to this horrible point. There would be no drugs, no leaving home, no leaving her parents, Jack, no addiction, no pain and no shame. Only Tilly and the good life they’d built together, just mother and daughter. They’d been doing fine.

Until this.

Cora groaned and thrust her face in her hands.

She had to keep going.

You have to be strong for Tilly. Tilly was a fighter.

Tilly is a fighter.

Cora sobbed into her pillow for several minutes before she found the will to shower and get into some clean clothes. No one seemed to notice when she padded to the kitchen to make tea. While she had no appetite, she ate some saltine crackers.

All the detectives, including Jack, were watching a TV news report. Through the forest of bodies, Cora saw it was a “Live Breaking News” report on one of the all-news networks. She glimpsed Tilly’s face on the screen and nudged her way to the set.

Seth Bruller was at a podium making a public appeal for help locating Tilly. Then he said the FBI was also seeking the “public’s help locating the following individuals, who are persons of interest in connection with Tilly Martin’s kidnapping.”

Once more, they showed Lyle’s picture. Then three more photos appeared-the faces of Ruiz Limon-Rocha, Alfredo Hector Tecaza and Carlos Manolo Sanchez.

Cora stared into the eyes of the two men who had invaded her home- the bastards who stood in this very space -bound her, stole Tilly.

She gasped and steadied herself against the back of a chair.

How did the FBI get their photos? Why did they identify them without telling her? Before Cora could react, the TV footage cut to a shaky live aerial angle from a news chopper.

“Now stay with us,” the news anchor said. “We have just learned…have we got it? There it is. Our affiliate in Tucson is reporting out of Willcox, Arizona, east of Tucson, that a bus traveling from El Paso, Texas to Phoenix was believed to have been carrying one of these men as a passenger and was stopped earlier. Sources tell us the FBI, or rather the DPS, did not locate him but is still processing the bus for evidence. That would indicate he was on the bus and somehow eluded police.”

Cora couldn’t stand it.

“Did you find Tilly?”

One of the task force investigators shook his head.

“Ma’am, we just have more information on the people we’re looking for.”

Cora went to her brother but his cell phone rang.

Gannon answered.

“Jack, its Henrietta.” Her voice was low. “I’m at the FBI news conference. New York is asking what you know about the bus and the other suspects.”

“Zero. I know what’s being reported.”

“That’s it?”

“No one’s told us a damn thing.”

“Okay, I’ll tell them, but they’re getting impatient.”

“I don’t care.”

Upon ending Henrietta’s call, Gannon had another one.

“This is Isabel Luna in Juarez. Can you talk now?”

“Hang on.” Gannon raised a give-me-a-moment finger to Cora and excused himself to a quiet corner of the house. “Isabel, do you know about the bus in Willcox?”

“Yes. The suspect, Sanchez, is using an alias. The face is a true picture. It’s The Tarantula.” Gannon listened as Luna continued. “He is the Norte Cartel’s top sicario, the top assassin. Based on the crime scene and their sources, Esteban and his team believe he killed the two Americans in the desert south of Juarez, the men associated with Lyle Galviera.”

Gannon’s breathing quickened; a picture began emerging as Luna continued. “The sicario entered the U.S. at El Paso and took a bus to Phoenix. American police were advised and they stopped the bus but he got away, as the networks are reporting. Jack, we believe he was dispatched to kill Lyle Galviera.”

“Jesus.”

“And Tilly.”

“Oh Christ.”

Gannon’s eyes swept the room until he found Cora and swallowed.

Could he tell her? An assassin’s coming to kill your daughter. Maybe this was the time to push Cora to answer Lomax’s allegation.

Luna continued, “The FBI and Arizona authorities are obviously taking matters seriously, with a dragnet, while gathering all the information they can. But sicarios at this level are impossible to find. They blend in like chameleons.”

During his conversation Gannon noticed that Hackett, Larson and other people had entered the house through the back door, approached Cora and took her aside. They looked grave.

This could be it, Gannon thought.

“Isabel, thank you. I have to go. Please contact me the moment you have any new information.”

“Of course.”

Gannon joined Cora and the others.

“Sorry,” Hackett said to Gannon, “we need to speak to Cora alone.”

She shook her head, trying to read the faces confronting her for what was to come.

“Whatever you have to say, I want Jack with me.”

“Very well,” Hackett said. He turned and introduced a slender man in a well-cut suit. “This is Oren Krendler, our division’s polygraph examiner.”

“Polygraph examiner?” Gannon said.

“We’re requesting Cora submit to a polygraph examination as soon as possible.”

“A lie detector? Now?” She half turned to the TV. “I don’t understand. Shouldn’t you be concentrating fully on finding Tilly? I mean-”

“We talked about this earlier with you, Cora. We have some uncertainties in the case that we need you to help us clarify, so we can concentrate fully in the proper areas. This is just a tool we use to be sure our investigation is thorough. Now, it is strictly voluntary. You can refuse, but it would be helpful in our investigation of your daughter’s kidnapping. It could lead to her safe return. You want to do all you can to help us return Tilly, don’t you, Cora?”

Cora glanced at Jack, immediately irritating Hackett.

“I don’t understand,” Hackett said. “Why do you need to get direction from your brother on this, Cora?”

“Because we know what this means,” Gannon said.

“Oh? And what’s that, Jack?”

“You consider her a suspect.”

“I didn’t say that. What I said was that this is a tool. We need to clarify things so we can focus our investigation effectively.”

“Do it, Cora,” Jack said. “But get a lawyer first.”

“A lawyer?” Hackett repeated.

“Come on,” Gannon said. “You all know that if you’re going to do this right, you should Mirandize her. So she should have a lawyer, and not feel pressured, since it’s strictly voluntary.”

“Fine,” Hackett said, “but we need to get moving. So get your lawyer ASAP.” Hackett’s phone started to ring and he turned to answer.

“Jack,” Cora seized his wrist hard and whispered, “I don’t have a lawyer.”

“I’m going to help you, Cora.”

As Gannon started to make a call himself, he overheard Hackett say into his cell phone, “Say that again. Who’s here from San Francisco?”