Cold River Resurrection (13 page)

C
hapter
28

Near Hermosillo

Sonora, Mexico

Enrico Alvarez drove his Hummer on the paved driveway past an army of groundskeepers, the main house coming in and out of view on the hill above. He waved at the  guards at the gate and continued on. He would have one more set of guards to go through, but it was more or less automatic, since he had picked the guards himself.

The Boss, the Patron. Even the people in the city who didn’t directly work for the Boss, called him that. Out of
respecto
. Out of
temer
. The Boss once told him that people would either respect him or fear him, and he didn’t care which.

“If I can’t get people to respect me,” the Boss said, “then I know I can get them to fear me, and fear is more reliable. I think I would rather they fear me.”

Enrico had taken the words to heart. He didn’t even bother with respect. He drove up to the main house, a long, beige three story structure, with a red tile roof and an inner courtyard that held two swimming pools, a tennis court, and a bowling alley. The Boss loved to bowl. Enrico parked at the gate to the courtyard, and walked past the guards as they came to attention.

The Boss was sitting at a table under a palm tree, watching across the grass at some children bowling at an outdoor lane. Having the childhood of privilege we never had, Enrico thought. The Boss waved him to sit, and raised his hand slightly for a waiter. Two waiters were standing at attention behind the palm, like pets waiting to be praised.

“Coffee,” Enrico said, settling into his chair.

“I don’t see how you can drink that stuff in the afternoon, in the heat,” El Patron said. The Boss was getting old, or older, in his eighties, and had been at this game a long time. He had started with
marihuana
, and had been a coke dealer, and now major meth manufacturer. He knew all about treachery and what money could do for and against you. He wore what he always did, a navy blue suit, with a white shirt and no tie. He reminded Enrico of the old movie Mexican moguls, the land barons of old Mexico, the Boss having grown up watching those old movies. A full head of white hair, large white goatee.

“I want you to send someone back to the United States, see to the problems the Jihadists have created in their rush to get some of our money.”

Enrico nodded. It was not time for him to speak yet.

“In many ways they are like children, having little patience, wanting one thing and seeing one way to get it.

“Deadly children,” he added, “but children just the same.” He sat back.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” Enrico said, and took a sip of his coffee.

“The middle eastern people we have been dealing with have no method of learning of our operation. They can take off a dealer or two if they find out who they are, but we don’t publish our troop movements like the United States government and media do. We don’t advertise our every move. They don’t know us.

“We can move at will in the U.S. because we have fifty million people there who look like us, came from Mexico, speak the language, and work there. We are a part of the economy now.”

“We are already at war with the Gulf Cartel and the Sinaloa Cartel. We don’t need another one.”

“We are at war with everyone who isn’t at this table,” Enrico said softly.

The Boss smiled, and nodded his head. “You learn well.”

“You taught me, Patron. But we are at war with the government of the United States, and that will cost us over time. We can use them, with their new-found fear of the Islamic fascists, and we can be a useful ally to them. Look at how well the heroin dealers in Afghanistan have done. The DEA, the U.S. troops, they leave them alone. All to fight the fascists.

“We will help them find the Jihadists, a few at a time. If a few Indians on reservations up there get in the way, so what? We’ll treat them like we treat the peasants here.

“So you see, Patron, I can’t send anyone to the United States. This is something I have to do myself. I will
leak information to the F.B.I. and the D.E.A. and get them to lay off of our major routes for a while, and also give them the information I have about how the fascists are getting into the U.S.

“I will even give them a shipment or two, just to keep our people on their toes.” Enrico laughed.

“First, clean up the mess in the woods up there, get the woman,” Patron said, serious now. “I don’t want the other cartels to use this information against us, to hurt us, and it could.” He waved his arms at his immense house, toward the guards in the front.

“Take what and who you need, Enrico. Just get it done.”

Enrico nodded, got up and embraced the Patron, and walked to his Hummer. He dialed a number on his cell phone, and said, “Get the plane ready. One hour.”

Now I go
to the United States on a business trip. To take care of some business that should have already been taken care of.

The woman.

Jennifer Kruger.

And whoever was with her.

C
hapter
29

Cold River Indian Reservation

Sidwalter

Jennifer stretched and slowly opened her eyes. Laurel
sat on the floor beside the couch. The girl’s eyes were closed, her head on Jennifer’s blanket.

“She didn’t want to miss you when you woke up,” Smokey said, bending down and touching Laurel’s hair.

Jennifer sat up, leaving Laurel on the blanket. After Smokey had gone to “sweat,” whatever that was, his mother Cat had given her a blanket and pointed to the couch. “I’ll get a bedroom ready for you today,” she had said, “but for now, I hope the couch is okay.”

Jennifer had not realized how tired she was. Now that the adrenalin was wearing off, she had been ready to sleep. She had fallen asleep as soon as she pulled the blanket up. She thought she must have been asleep several hours.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Almost noon,” Smokey said. “How about some lunch and then we will talk, you and I, and try to figure out why these people want to kill you. After that, I will meet with the F.B.I. and my chief.”

The way he said ‘F.B.I.’ made Jennifer think that he didn’t want to do it, but that it was a necessity.

“I don’t know what we’ll find out that I haven’t already told you,” Jennifer said, “but I’ll do whatever you want.”

What I want is a shower.

“Can I take a shower first?”

“Of course.”

Laurel sat up and rubbed her eyes. She looked up at her
dad and grinned.

“Wow, Dad, you sure got some of those dudes who jacked Jennifer.”

Jennifer looked on as Smokey stared at his daughter.

“Laurel, how’d you . . .” he asked.

Laurel held up a pink cell phone. “It’s all over the rez, Dad, and Daddy, do you think they will come after Jennifer again?”

“No!”

As Jennifer listened to father and daughter, she didn’t think that Smokey said ‘no’ with much conviction. Then she had a thought that would become reality in a short time.

They’re coming after me again.

Here.

Jennifer let hot water run over her back. The heat felt so good that she didn’t want to stop. She worried that she might be using too much, since there had been several children watching television when she left the living room. Okay, time to get out. She turned the faucet off and stood in the steam. She opened the shower door and felt for a towel.

Laurel held a towel up in the doorway.

“Thanks.” Jennifer wrapped herself in the towel and stepped out. Laurel stepped back and stood there, looking up at Jennifer.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

Jennifer thought it strange she didn’t feel self-conscious around this kid, this stranger, and shrugged at her comfort. She usually didn’t like to share her bathroom with anyone.

“My daddy said you are one tough girl,” Laurel said.

“He did, did he?” Jennifer laughed.

“Yep. Know what else?”

“What?”

“I think he likes you, my d
ad, I mean.”

Jennifer felt herself blushing. She wrapped the towel tighter. Laurel snatched another towel from the rack and held it out. “For your hair.”

As Jennifer wrapped her hair, she thought about what Laurel just said.

It shouldn’t matter, Jen. You just met these people.

And then she had another thought.

But you know you feel good, and welcome here.

She smiled and walked into the adjoining bedroom where she had her clothes laid out. Someone had placed socks and panties on the bed next to her borrowed jeans. Laurel trailed her out of the bathroom and stood as Jennifer toweled herself dry. She looked at Smokey’s daughter and could see the dad there. And the dad’s attitude. Laurel didn’t appear to be afraid of anything.

Jennifer sat on a bench and patted the space beside her
. Laurel plopped down.

“You’re very pretty,” Laurel said, a smug look curling her mouth.

“Thanks, you’re very pretty yourself.” She stood and pulled the jeans up. “Tell me, Laurel, tell me something about your daddy.”

“Do you like him back?”

“How could I not? He saved my life, didn’t he?”

They both laughed, and to Jen, it was the best feeling she had had in a long time.

They were still laughing ten minutes later when then entered the living room, Jennifer with her arm resting easily on Laurel’s shoulder. Smokey gave her a look of surprise, and Jennifer grinned at him.

After a lunch of soup and bread, Jennifer followed Smokey out the back door and onto the deck. The view was tremendous – a mountain meadow with a barn and corrals to her left, and at the end, a forest of Ponderosa Pine trees, and above the forest off to the left, the white glacier-covered slopes of Mt. Jefferson. Mt. Wilson, a smaller mountain was off to the right.

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of this,” she said.

“I never have.” Smokey stood beside her. “What was that all about, you and Laurel, laughing?”

“Girl stuff,” Jennifer said, and then added, “she’s a great kid.”

“Yeah, I know,” Smokey said, turning toward her, “but with Laurel, she hasn’t warmed up to a new person since . . . well, for a long time.” He shook his head.

“How many
new
friends do you bring around her?”

“None! I mean,-
.”

“I would never have believed you could be at a loss for words,” Jennifer said.

“Not usually.” He pointed to a table on the deck. “Let’s go take a look at a map. I’m going to ask you to remember what happened to you, what you saw, and try to put it in perspective on a map.” He moved to the table. “It may not be easy,” he added.

Jennifer pulled a chair over next to Smokey
. A map of the reservation, with adjoining Mt. Jefferson Wilderness area, was spread out on the table.

“Did you and Carl have maps of the area?” Smokey asked.

“Yeah, we did, and I looked at them occasionally so I was pretty familiar with where we were, what the maps looked like.”

“From talking with Carl, you entered the rez here, at the ‘Hole
-in- the-Wall Park.’”

“Yeah, and it sure looks different on the map than on foot. See here,” Jennifer said, pointing, “that switchback trail, dropping into the canyon of Jefferson Creek, is a steep one. Then we had to climb out the other side on the reservation. In the trees mostly, at the base of Mt. Jefferson. Carl, you know Carl?”

Smokey nodded. “We had him at the Search and Rescue base camp.”

“Just so you know, Carl is an idiot. We are done as a couple. I can’t believe that I settled for that guy.” She looked closer at the map.

You’re saying too much Jennifer.

“Okay, here,” she pointed, “after we left Jefferson Creek, I don’t know exactly where we camped, but it took us a half day or so to hike in. Had to be quiet, which is not how I like to hike, I like to sing, talk with my companions, remark on the rocks, trees, flora and fauna, and all that. Carl, that jerk, said we had to be quiet, so we could sneak up on Bigfoot, freaking Sasquatch.”

Jennifer looked up as Laurel sat in a chair next to her.

“Laurel.” Smokey jerked his head in the direction of the house, his
braids flying.

“Daddy, can’t I stay?  Pleeeze?” She scooted her chair closer to Jennifer. “I want to hear what Jen has to say as much as you do.”

Jennifer turned to Smokey. “It’s okay with me.”

Jennifer smiled at Laurel, who immediately grinned back. Jennifer saw Smokey looking first at his daughter, then at her. He shook his head, slowly, defeated.

“Okay, I can’t win with both of you. And since when did Jennifer change to Jen?”

“It’s what I like to be called,” Jennifer said. She pointed at the map. “You know how to read a map, Laurel?”

“Of course. Daddy taught me a long time ago.”

“I’ll get some coffee,” Smokey said. Jennifer watched as he walked inside, shaking his head.

Laurel laughed.

I could get to like this kid, Jennifer thought. She walked to the edge of the deck and looked out over the tree-lined slope. Laurel stood behind her. The back yard area was not lawn, as she would have expected, but the undergrowth of a forest, with juniper trees and a large Ponderosa Pine just off the deck. The ground was covered with pine cones and dead branches.

Her attention was drawn to one of the sticks on the ground.

It moved!

Jennifer looked closer, knowing that she had imagined it. There. Again.

The stick moved again, an undulating motion. A snake!

“Laurel, did you see that?” Jennifer pointed to the stick and turned to look back at Laurel. The little girl was at her side, staring out at the branches on the ground.

“Yeah, the stick moved.”

“But how?”

“I did it,
but don’t tell, Daddy doesn’t like for me . . .”

“Laurel!”

Smokey stood behind them. He held a tray with coffee and cocoa.

“Laurel, I told you, no
Twati
!” He set the tray on the table and glared at his daughter.  Laurel shrugged. “Sorry, Dad,” she said, but Jennifer didn’t think she sounded too sorry.

Jennifer turned to Smokey, and decided to remain quiet.

What did I just see? Whatever it was, Smokey is pissed at his daughter.

Jennifer looked at the sticks again as Smokey waved her over. She didn’t think that this was the time to ask about that illusion she saw, but if she continued to hang with the Indians, she was going to find out. She would make a point of it. She joined Smokey at the table and looked at the map.

“When we got out of the Jefferson Creek canyon, I don’t really know how far we went to the camp,” Jennifer said.

“Here, this is where you camped with Carl,” Smokey said, making a circle with a green marker. “Here, on Parker Creek.” He traced their trail from where they entered the reservation to their camp. Jennifer and Laurel leaned over the map. Jennifer thought of the first night and day at the camp.

I was so bored. Carl fiddling with his gadgets, the camera, the listening devices he was sure would work. I had packed some of the stuff in for him. Good thing I brought a paperback. By day two at the camp, sitting around waiting for night so Carl could look around for Sasquatch, I was ready to go. But no, he had to stay. Our argument did get a little out of hand, me calling him a little jerk off, loading up my pack with just my stuff and stomping off in a huff.

Not very smart, Jen. Look what happened then.

“I was bored,”
Jennifer said, and shrugged. “I couldn’t take another day of not talking, just sitting around waiting for dark. So I left.”

She looked at the map.

“I’m not sure where I went from there, but I thought I was backtracking. I thought I had a pretty good handle on what our trails looked like. But I don’t know where I took a wrong turn.”

“We found the bodies here, by trailing you,” Smokey said.

“But that’s way over on Parker Creek. I don’t think I walked that far the first day. I left camp after breakfast, say eight o’clock, and I think it was about three or four in the afternoon when I found the bodies. So I could have walked, how far?”

“You went four to five miles, as the crow flies, but hiking on animal trails and tracks, you walked at least ten miles. That’s the best Nathan and I can come up with.

“Take your time,” Smokey continued. “Think about that first day, maybe you will remember where you went, what you saw. You and I both know that it’s important to somebody. Important enough to kill a lot of people.”

Jennifer traced the map with her fingers. Laurel grabbed her left hand and squeezed. Jen smiled, lost in the thought of that day she left Carl at the camp.

I had a good day, that first day after leaving, I was good in the woods alone. I was pretty content, thinking that I could get most of the way back to the Bigfoot Expedition base camp, then read and talk and wait for Carl to come out.

But I didn’t count on finding a body, some body parts, did I? Thought I was pretty tough, going it alone out there. The trail petered out, and then I just walked on animal trails. I knew I was lost. Lost my little ass in the woods, took a wrong turn, went the wrong way, trying to prove something to Carl. And when I knew I was lost, I saw an opening in the trees, and

“I found a clearing, thought I would make a fire.” Jen blurted the words, excited now, remembering how and why she came to the place where she found the body of the man.

The body. The man, what did Smokey say his name was? Kal-leed something. A narco-terro
rist, Smokey called him. Someone trying to kill us with drug money. Glad he’s dead.

I remember looking at the leg of the man, of the shoe, a hiker, no, not a hiker, dress shoes, slacks, missing parts, ah God,  he’s missing parts. And the skull. I remember the skull, and then it was night.