Chapter Fifteen
Early the next morning, Rose drove under the red and green porte cochere of the medical center in Alpine, then parked the cruiser in the closest lot. Her starched and pressed uniform felt foreign after the soft leather chaps and wind-blown T-shirt she’d worn in Mexico. She wasn’t really sure what that meant—her uniform had always been a part of who and what she was. Confusion accompanied her as she wove her way between the sun-baked cars. Her feelings about Santos were just as chaotic—especially after seeing him cuff her mother. Despite her words to the contrary the night they’d made love, Rose had secretly wondered if their relationship could be rekindled. The time they’d spent in the big white bed had made her realize what she’d been missing in her life. The touch of his hands, the warm, loving words, his lips on her skin—these were important things, especially when they came from a man with whom she’d shared so much of her life.
She tried to convince herself that he wasn’t interested in anything except putting the criminals away. He’d used, and then arrested her mother. Extenuating circumstances meant nothing. He could break the law to enforce the law, but everyone else was fair game. She told herself nothing had changed. And then his words would echo inside her head once again. Aren’t second chances what you’re all about?
Finding the hospital door with her mother’s name on it, she pushed it open and walked inside. From the bed across the room where she was flipping through a magazine, her mother raised her head and smiled. Rose smiled back, then she saw Jessie Delacourt sitting in a chair beside the bed, and her expression faded.
The ACES agent stood. “I think I need some coffee,” she announced. “Can I get you two something?”
The officer didn’t have to leave—in fact, she shouldn’t leave—but she clearly wanted to give Rose and Gloria some privacy. Rose mouthed her thanks with a grateful look, and Jessie let the door close behind her.
Gloria motioned for her to come nearer. Her mother looked as if she hadn’t aged at all since they’d parted. Up close, Rose could see the evidence she’d missed the day before. A network of lines wrinkled in the corner of her eyes and a few strands of silver hair were scattered throughout the blond. Those signs notwithstanding, it was still easy to see why she’d caught the eye of the missing cartel leader.
They hugged without speaking, Rose’s throat closing as tightly as she imagined her mother’s was. She finally pulled back and spoke huskily. “How are you feeling?”
“Perfectly fine. It’s not nearly as serious as it looked at first. The doctor cleaned out the wound, gave me some antibiotics, and said I shouldn’t do anything too strenuous for a few days. I might even be released tomorrow morning. I think they’re only keeping me so I won’t come back and sue them if I fall over and croak.” Her brown eyes crinkled in amusement as Rose took the chair Jessie had abandoned. “How about you? I think you were more upset yesterday than I was.”
“No matter how glad I was to see you, you’ll have to admit, we had a pretty dramatic reunion,” Rose said. “It’s been a rough few days.”
Gloria made a sympathetic sound. “And I bet you haven’t been eating right, either.”
Rose had to laugh. Once a mother, always a mother. “Probably not,” she answered, “but that hardly seems to matter right now.”
“It matters to me. You need to take care of yourself.”
“You just cheated death, mom. I don’t think you have much room to give advice.
“Probably not. There’s one thing I do have some experience with though, good and bad, and that’s men.” She lifted a finger and pointed it at Rose. It was a gesture she’d used when Rose was a child, and she knew exactly what it meant; she had better pay attention or consequences would follow. “Timothy Santos is very much in love with you, Rose.”
“After all that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, that’s what you want to talk about?”
“It’s as good a place to start as anywhere. Seeing you together, I know now there’s no room left for any reservations in that department. You’re a lucky woman to have someone like him.”
Rose’s spine stiffened, and the rest of her body followed. Even her voice turned hard. “I don’t know how you, of all people, can say that.”
“Think what you like. His love for you is written all over his face. A man can’t hide something that important, no matter how good an actor he might be.”
“Acting has become his forte.”
“Maybe so, but I can recognize a man in love. I’ve seen that expression before. Once or twice it’s even been directed toward me.”
“You don’t know him like I do.”
“You’re right,” Gloria conceded. “I know him better, because I know who he isn’t.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say but—”
“He isn’t a man who disrespects people, even when they make mistakes,” Gloria said. “He isn’t a man who looks the other way when that’s the easy thing to do.” Her voice thickened. “He isn’t a man who will run out the door when things get tough. He’ll stick by you, regardless, and fight like hell for you when he has to.”
Shaken by her mother’s exclamation, she fell quiet. But only for a second. “Until the law gets in the way and he has to arrest you,” she countered abruptly. “But I didn’t come here to argue about Santos. I came because I want to know what you thought you were doing going undercover. You could have been killed!”
Gloria gave her a speculative look, and she lowered her gaze, trying to divert Gloria’s attention. Unfortunately, Gloria knew it. Because that had been her exact reaction to her mother’s finger-shaking as a child. Apparently acquiescing, Gloria reached toward a cup of water that sat beside her bed. “That wasn’t the plan.”
“Why did you do it?”
Gloria set the cup down carefully. “I had a choice, Rose. I could have gone back to jail, or I could have tried to do something right for a change. Going undercover was my best chance at doing that and putting Pablo Ortega away at the same time. In the end, it really wasn’t a difficult decision. As long as I knew you’d be safe, I wanted to see if I could make a difference.”
“I love you dearly, but I’m trained to deal with people like Ortega, Mother. I don’t need that kind of protecting. Especially from you.”
“You’re wrong.” Her mother’s words were flat. “Everyone needs protection from men like him. You don’t know what he’s capable of doing.”
She thought of Concepción’s body. “I have a pretty good idea. Plus, Santos told me about the murder by the river. But surely you’re not the only one who’s seen Ortega kill someone.”
“No, but I’m the only one who was having an affair with the man he killed.”
“What? Santos told me the victim was a man Ortega caught crossing the border illegally. He said you told him the man was a stranger.”
“I lied.”
Rose sat back in the chair and stared at her mother.
“The man whose throat I—he—sliced was one of his lieutenants. I was the reason El Brujo killed him, and I knew sooner or later, I was going to be next. To El Brujo’s way of thinking, we’d both disrespected him, and death was the only revenge that fit the crime.”
“Why didn’t you tell Santos the truth?”
“Our relationship isn’t one I think you can ever understand. I’m not even sure I do. Let’s just say I didn’t want him to think even less of me than I already deserved.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I respect him. I wanted his approval.”
“But he arrested you. Even after you helped him.”
“I knew that might happen.” Her mother stared at her stoically, and Rose knew she’d say nothing else. So she switched subjects. “Why hook up with Ortega in the first place?”
“That’s something else I don’t think you could ever understand.”
“Try me.”
“He’s not the kind of man you think that he is. He’s brutal and violent without a doubt. This may sound like a cliché, but he has another side, a side no one sees very often. That was the man I met and fell in love with—not the man he is today.” She drew in a long breath. “Don’t get me wrong. Nothing I can say about him can redeem what he does. There is no excuse for that.”
“You’re right on that point,” Rose answered. “He sells misery and death.”
“All I can say is, before I knew what he was, I knew who he was. After I came to realize the truth, I was in too deep to get out.” When she spoke it was almost to herself. “I seem to have that problem a lot with men.”
No kidding, Rose thought. Her brief amusement fled as quickly as it’d arrived. She stood and stepped over to the window to look above the streets near the hospital. The midday heat rose in wavy lines with glints of blindingly bright reflections. Shadows cut out pockets of light here and there, leaving shady spots along the sidewalk. Gripping the windowsill, she spoke with her back toward her mother. “I understand you wanted to protect me, but that still doesn’t make it right.” She turned. “I shouldn’t have let you do it the last time, either.”
“Oh, sweetheart. You couldn’t have stopped me.”
…
Santos froze just outside the hospital room’s door as Gloria spoke. He knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. He knew he should announce himself, open the door, and walk inside to formally arrest Gloria as he’d come there to do. But he couldn’t make himself move as agony filled Rose’s answer.
“I was only sixteen. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.”
If Rose hadn’t already told him about Mike Slider’s death, he could only imagine how he would have felt hearing this now. Listening, he knew it was a thousand-fold more painful for them.
“Which made it even more important that I do what I did.” The hospital bed creaked. “I couldn’t let you go to prison for the rest of your life.”
“They wouldn’t have given me that kind of sentence—”
“You say that in hindsight, Rose. But there were no guarantees you’d stay out of jail. I wasn’t going to make that bet with the rest of your life in the balance. I brought him into our lives. I was responsible.”
“But look what it cost you.”
“Don’t make it sound like I’m some kind of saint, Rose, because I’m not. Far from it. In fact, if I were the woman you think I am, I would have contacted Santos before I did anything, and turned in Pablo on my own.”
Rose said something he couldn’t catch, but Gloria’s answer came out loud and clear. “It was worth it, and given the choice, I’d do the very same thing all over again.” She paused, and a quiet rage laced her words. “Slider didn’t deserve to live, and neither does Pablo Ortega. I fell in love with both of them, but that’s my burden when the roll is called, not yours. They’re both men this world is better off without.” A quiet second passed before she spoke again. “Let’s be honest with each other, Rose, even if we’re not honest with anyone else. I would have shot Slider myself if you hadn’t done it first. You just beat me to it. Given half a chance, I’m going to do the same thing to Pablo Ortega, despite what I said about him. I don’t care what it costs—all I care about is keeping you safe.”
Her pronouncement echoed in Santos’s heart, and he suddenly knew he felt the very same way. He would have given anything, including his life, to keep Rose safe. He was no different than Gloria. He would move the moon to protect Rose, even if it meant they could never be together.
Instead of being inflexible and blind to the consequences, he’d spent his time trying to bring bad guys to justice. All this time. He’d never taken his eyes from the ball, never let himself be distracted. If only he’d thought about Gloria and how much she loved Rose, if he’d realized he was just the same way; if he’d only understood…
The woman he loved most in the world had left him because all he could see was black and white. There had been no gradients in his life, except when it came to accomplishing his own goals. To that purpose, he had allowed himself to justify almost anything, as long as it helped achieve his purpose.
He hadn’t been fair to Rose. He’d loved her, yes. Still loved her and always would, but he hadn’t been fair to her.
He let his hand fall away from the door, and he stepped back, briefly closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall. He opened them to see a passing nurse give him a curious look. She seemed about to speak, then their gazes connected, and she hurried down the hall instead.
The sounds of the hospital echoed against the polished linoleum where he stood. The rattle of a gurney, the footfalls of a doctor, the ringing of a telephone. Down the corridor, the muted noise of a television joined the fray.
He stood motionless a moment longer, but more contemplation wasn’t necessary. In his heart, he knew that if he had questioned himself before this point, he would have done what he was about to do much sooner. And now there was no other option, because he loved Rose too much to consider any other decision.
He called Jessie and told her what he wanted her to do. Then he turned around and walked away.
…
Rose had gone to the station feeling completely wrung out. She had no idea what to do next. Seeing her mother again had been bittersweet, to say the least. She wasn’t sure either of them even knew how to give words to the feelings, the love, the secrets that they shared. Gloria’s pronouncement that Santos still loved her was as ridiculous as Silas’s had been. And Rose was still shaking her head over the convoluted relationships Gloria shared with both Santos and Ortega. She wondered all at once if she was as complicated as her mother.
Her car was still at Santos’s barn, so King took her home after work. It felt like the day had actually taken a year to pass. They pulled into the driveway of her house, and King looked across the seat at her in the dark. “You need some company? I can come in if you want.” He held up his hands in mock innocence and grinned. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Promise I won’t try anything funny no matter how much you want me.”
She knew he was trying to make her laugh, and she appreciated the effort—it was so much like him—even though she’d come to suspect he had his own dark secrets. “That’s nice of you, King. But I’m okay.”
He turned serious. “You don’t look okay.”
“I’ll be fine. I just need a hot bath and something to eat, then I’m going to crash.”
She opened the truck’s door, climbed out, and patted the fender as she went by. As King’s taillights rounded the corner, she walked toward her porch, every step an effort. She wasn’t sure which was worse—her state of mind or her physical exhaustion.
Her throat began to sting, and she cursed the chaos that had entered her life. Santos’s kisses had brought back all the good memories, and in spite of her very best intentions, they’d made torturous new one as well. In the days to come, she’d have to deal with that.
In the years to come, she’d have to deal with that.
The charges Santos would level against her mother would be stiff ones. Accessory to murder was bad enough, but she was a convicted felon, so if she was found guilty, her sentence would be even worse. Her status as his C.I. would help, of course, but not enough. Rose told herself that with a good attorney, maybe things wouldn’t end up as they had the last time Gloria had protected her. Maybe it’d be different this time.
The phone was ringing as she entered her front door. When she picked it up and heard the voice of her mother’s doctor, her heart skipped a beat. Her mother had seemed fine when Rose left her bedside. Had she taken a turn for the worse? “Is everything okay, Dr. Donaldson?”
“You tell me,” he said. “Your mother has left the hospital. One of our nurses saw her in the parking lot, and she didn’t check out. Do you know anything about this?”
Panic washed over her. “Was she alone? Was there anyone with her?”
“If you’re asking me whether or not someone took her by force, the answer is no. She was moving carefully, but other than that, she was quite all right, considering she’s been shot. I was told she was walking away as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Actually I think the nurse’s exact words were, ‘She looked as happy as someone who just escaped prison.’”
Oh, God. Rose exhaled, her initial fear replaced with the realization that, in all likelihood, that was exactly what her mother had just done.
“But there was a guard posted in her room,” she said. “Where was she?”
“I have no idea.”
“Did you check the cafeteria? Or maybe the lounge?”
His voice turned weary. He obviously had enough on his plate without tracking down runaway patients. “Yes, Sheriff. We checked the entire facility before phoning you. This is only a courtesy call. People are allowed to leave hospitals without a doctor’s permission. There may be consequences for them down the road, but we can’t control that. I just wanted to let you know.”
Rose hung up the phone and wondered what to do about this new development, her speculation growing. Obviously her mother had been telling the truth when she’d told Rose she was fine. And clearly she hadn’t been forced to leave.
She knew she should phone someone, put out an APB, call in the cavalry, but she was so exhausted, so thrown by her realization, that she couldn’t think straight. And thinking straight was what she needed right now. She decided to clean up, and then get something to eat. She’d know how to best proceed after that.
She took a quick shower and changed into a worn pair of jeans and a sweater, her wet hair hanging around her face as she made her way to the kitchen. Scrounging up a salad, she sank down onto the couch and began to eat mechanically.
The next thing she knew, she was waking up, the television blaring. The hands on the clock on the wall above the flat screen pointed to two. Was it a.m. or p.m.? She drew a complete blank until she pushed away her sleepiness and turned toward the window. A ribbon of black parted the drapes, and she had her answer. Two a.m.
She stumbled to her bedroom in a panic, intending to change into her uniform and deal with her mother’s disappearance. Then the phone rang again.
“This is Jake McBolton with the crime lab in Austin,” a deep voice said to her tentative hello. “Is this Sheriff Renwick?”
“Yes, it is.” She’d expected her mother to be at the other end of the line. Again with the confusion versus relief. Would she feel this way forever if Gloria wasn’t found? “What can I help you with, Officer?”
“I hope I’m going to help you,” he said. “We have a report ready on something that was submitted by Agent Timothy Santos. I was told if his name was attached to any request that came to the lab, I was supposed to get it done yesterday, so as soon as I received the…um…specimen by courier, I went to work. He put your name on the form and said to get hold of you if I couldn’t get through to him, which I can’t. I know it’s late. Or maybe I should say early, but—”
“What’s the problem?” she asked impatiently. “Spit it out.”
She heard the rustle of papers. “Could you please tell Agent Santos I don’t know whose body parts he sent up here, but I do know for sure they don’t belong to anyone named Juan Enrique—”
McBolton’s words entered her brain at the exact moment she heard the sound of breaking glass. Exhausted and fuzzy, she still had the phone in her hand when two masked men ran into her bedroom, their guns thrust before them.
Dropping the phone, she screamed and launched herself for the nightstand and the pistol lying on top of it. One of the men tackled her just as her fingers brushed over the metal grip, and they went down in a heap, the table crashing into the wall, the lamp falling over and hitting the man with a glancing blow that did nothing except shatter the lamp and send a shard of glass slicing across her forehead. In the second it took for her to blink away the blood, he grabbed her, pinning her arms behind her. She moved to break his hold, but he anticipated the maneuver and blocked it. He did the same with her second attempt, wrestling her to the floor and holding her down with his hips.
“I’m the sheriff,” she cried. “Let me go, dammit.” She bucked him off and got one arm free, but he grabbed it again and wrenched it up behind her back. Pain exploded down her shoulder as he used the leverage to jerk her to her feet. “Turn me loose,” she screamed. You’re assaulting a law enforcement officer—”
The second man leapt over the bed to slap a rag around her face. She coughed, then gagged. Her last thought was of Santos before everything went dark and silent.