Authors: Sylvia Sarno
Ann searched her husband’s face trying to make sense of what he had just said. When she finally spoke, her words came out in starts. “How could…? Kika’s the one… She took Travis. Even the police… How could she help when… What
happened
?”
“Before I tell you anything else,” Richard said, “I want you to admit you acted like an idiot. Admit you didn’t think. I want to hear you say it, Ann!”
She hung her head. “I admit I didn’t think.” Looking up, her voice took on a pleading tone. “I just want Travis to come home. What did Kika do?”
Richard’s voice was calmer. “Kika didn’t take Travis. She was in Mexico at a funeral. Her phone was turned off. When she connected again and learned the police were looking for her she turned herself in. They have nothing on her. Her actions since, have proven—to me at least—that she’s innocent.”
If Kika didn’t take Travis then who did?
“It was Max Ruiz’s cousin, Julio, who saved you.”
“But why would they want to help me?”
“Apparently ten days ago, Max’s brother, Pablo, was killed by the most powerful cartel in Tijuana. They’re the ones who owned the tunnel. Max got his cousin, Julio, whose father was also killed, to go in and blow the tunnel up. Julio wanted to make restitution to Max for getting Pablo into the drug business. It was Kika’s idea. She found out from Martina Ramirez that you went to the warehouse. After going there and seeing the place herself, she realized what had happened. She asked Max to use his family connections to go in and find you. Max wanted to deprive the cartel of their tunnel and he wanted to avenge his brother’s killing. I guess helping Kika make amends to us was part of it too.”
“Do the police know about this?” Ann asked.
“They know the tunnel was destroyed,” Richard said. “There was a pretty big fire above ground.”
“Do they know who did it?”
“No,” her husband said. “And we can’t tell them. It would mean exposing the Ruiz family.”
“Who did the police think saved me?”
“They’re trying to figure it out. One of Julio Ruiz’s men dropped you off near a hospital in Bonita. Then they called an ambulance to pick you up. No one knows anything.”
“If Kika didn’t take Travis, then who did?”
Her husband looked discouraged. “I don’t know.”
“What’re Tom and Julian saying?” Ann said.
“Nothing much. But I get the feeling they know more than they’re telling.”
The thought of her son at the mercy of strangers brought renewed terror to Ann’s heart. Richard was right. She had to stop this craziness. Searching for Travis required a razor-sharp focus unfettered by hunches and wishes and crazy escapades. When she admitted as much to her husband he seemed relieved.
“What about Mrs. Ramirez?” Ann asked. “Didn’t she tell the police about the tunnel?”
Richard hung his head.
“What’s wrong?”
“Marty Ramirez overdosed on sleeping pills. I guess she couldn’t take it any more.”
Ann remembered Marty’s passivity. At the time, she couldn’t understand how a mother whose child had disappeared could cut herself off from her emotions and her ability to act to find her child. She understood now. She understood how tragedy could change a person. How the strength you thought you had before your life was upended by grief could turn out to be an illusion.
C
HAPTER
14
Sunday, October 14
1:30 P.M
.
T
wo days after she was rescued, Ann was released from the hospital. Kika would not have recognized her old enemy if she had passed her in the street. Ann’s eyes were swollen-red; the skin of her neck sagged over a dull, green turtleneck. Her raw fingers looked as if they had been steeped in bleach. Thick bandages covered her wrists. Sitting in their living room next to his wife, Richard had purple circles under his eyes and dark stubble on his lower face and neck. He looked restless.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Ann said. “I believed the worst of you. And you saved my life.”
“You were convinced I kidnapped your son,” Kika shrugged. “Given the situation, I would have thought the same.”
Richard stood up. “I’m going to make myself a drink. You want anything?”
Both Ann and Kika declined.
“Like I told your husband,” Kika said, when they were alone, “we have to keep the fact that you were in the tunnel a secret.” She knew she was asking Ann to break the law, but concealment was the price they
both had to pay to secure Ann’s freedom. Richard could have taken his chances with the DEA, but in all likelihood, at the first sign of them, El Martillo would have torched the tunnel, with Ann in it.
Ann’s voice was solemn. “You have our word.”
Watching Ann roll and unroll the edge of her sweater, Kika realized that her presence unnerved her. Kika didn’t blame Ann. They had despised each other for so long.
“If possible,” Ann said, her eyes seeking Kika’s. “I want to thank Max and his cousin in person.”
Ann’s naiveté was endearing in a way. As if Max and Julio would drop everything and sail into La Jolla just because Ann Olson willed it. After Kika explained, the art dealer seemed to accept that Max and Julio were too busy to come to San Diego. Ann looked as if she wanted to say more, but wasn’t quite sure how to start.
“You’re still wondering why I helped, aren’t you?” Kika said.
Ann let out a sigh, apparently relieved the social worker had read her thoughts. “You didn’t have to do anything. No one would’ve known. There was so much bad blood between us….” She looked at Kika with timid curiosity. “Forgive for me asking, but does your helping me have something to do with your personal history?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nora told me you had a difficult childhood,” Ann ventured. “Something about your wanting to find your father. I thought maybe that’s why you’re sympathetic to us, because you know what it’s like to lose your family.” Her voice turned up at these last words as if she were posing a question. “I don’t know. I just thought that…”
“It’s okay,” Kika said, spreading her hands as if she were laying the whole matter on the table for discussion. “It’s funny. For some reason, I don’t mind talking about it with you. You see, after my mother Antonia passed away, I learned I was adopted. Apparently my birth mother had died. So I tried to find my father.”
Kika told Ann about Mesa Grande and the old people who remembered her family. “When I ran out of leads,” she added, “I hired
a detective to search for my father. The detective gave me a long list of American men bearing the same name as my father. Fallon was his name. When the detective demanded more money, I dismissed him. He hadn’t done much to earn what I’d already paid him. I wasn’t about to throw good money after bad.”
“So you never found out about your father?” Ann said in sympathy.
Kika felt miserable. “Over the years, I would research the names the detective had given me on the Internet. I would think I had found him only to realize…” She sighed deeply. “I couldn’t handle the constant disappointment. I wasn’t getting anywhere with my search. As time passed, I focused on other things.” After an uncomfortable silence she added, “They said my mother died shortly after giving birth to me. It was strange. The detective couldn’t find proof of my birth or my mother’s death. The people in Mesa Grande thought I’d been kidnapped. I guess it was just a rumor.”
Ann’s voice softened. “You feel a sort of kinship with Travis, don’t you?”
Kika lowered her eyes. “I keep thinking of what those kids must be going through not knowing if they’ll ever see their mommies and daddies again.”
Ann bit down on her lip.
“It’s a comfort to talk to you,” Kika said, realizing her words had upset Ann. “I always thought you weren’t…”
Ann was looking at her again. “
Reasonable?
”
Kika’s smile was rueful. “I guess that’s the right word.”
“You’re not the only one who’s thought that of me. My husband for one.”
“Please keep the rescue a secret, Ann. I know it’s asking a lot. Until we find your son…”
“I promise we won’t say a word,” Ann said.
A few minutes later, Kika stood up to leave.
Tom Long entered the room, followed by Agent Fox.
Her pulse quickening, Kika glanced back at Ann. Ann looked frightened. Standing between Long and Fox, Richard had a helpless look on his face.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Ms. Garcia,” Julian said, his sharp eyes taking in the room.
Ann’s voice was a little too high. “Kika was just leaving. Richard, uh. Uh, please see her out.”
Julian put his arms up, barring Kika’s way. “Ms. Garcia! What’s the rush? Stay a while.”
Kika appealed to the detective, with her eyes, to help her out of this mess. Tom raised his shoulders in a questioning gesture, as if to say:
The Fox is running the show today
.
Her hand on her Madonna medallion, Kika let the agent guide her back to the sofa.
“Here, take a load off.” Fox pushed Kika down. Before she could protest, he sat beside her. Their knees touched.
Richard joined his wife on the opposite sofa.
Tom Long seated himself a little apart from the group, in an overstuffed armchair.
His eyebrows arching, Julian Fox smiled at Ann. “We came to see how you’re doing after your ordeal. Imagine, the second in less than two weeks.”
When the agent turned to Kika, she swallowed hard. “You look worried, Ms. Garcia. Anything the matter?”
“Of course not,” Kika said. “Well, I mean everything is wrong, obviously. But you came to talk to Ann. Pretend I’m not even here.”
Julian Fox’s smile was indulgent as he turned to Ann. “So you wanna tell us what happened?
This time
.”
Turning away from the agent, Ann focused her attention on Tom Long. Lying, she explained that Marty Ramirez had mentioned that she knew a San Diego man with connections to the Mexican underground. This man, Marty had said, knew Tijuana well and might know where to find Travis. While searching for him a gang of young men ambushed her, just like before. The men drove Ann to an unknown location where she was held prisoner. Having lived the part about being tied up and held prisoner, Ann provided law enforcement with ample details.
Kika breathed easier. Ann was keeping her promise about the tunnel.
“What was the guy’s name?” Julian asked. “And what address did Martina Ramirez give you?”
Ann glanced at the agent and then lowered her eyes. “Uh, Miguel something or other. Uh, Marty didn’t know his last name or address. She just knew that he hung out in the neighborhood. She said he was medium height and had a mustache.”
Fox nodded his head slowly. “And how’d you get shot?”
Beads of perspiration had appeared on Ann’s forehead and her upper lip. She swallowed hard. “The kids who took me prisoner... They uh started to fight over me…”
Fox’s eyebrows arched. “They fought over you?”
Ann nodded her head vigorously, her eyes still avoiding the agent. “Yeah. And one of them pulled out a gun. You see I was in the way… And I uh...”
Tom called out from his corner, “And you took a few bullets.”
Her head down, Ann nodded.
Fox’s persistent gaze was still on Ann. “What a strange coincidence. Ten minutes after that drug tunnel was blown up… You know the one. In San Ysidro.” His blue eyes bored into Ann. “An ambulance was called to pick you up.”
The agent elbowed Kika hard in the ribs. “What do you make of
that
?”
Kika coughed. “I have no idea.”
Fox turned to Richard. “And who do you think called the ambulance to pick up your dear wife?”
Looking down at his hands, Richard shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“My prayers were answered,” Ann said when Julian Fox turned his watchful eyes back to her.
“I didn’t know you were religious,” the agent said.
“I didn’t either,” Ann whispered.
Kika noticed that Ann avoided her husband’s stare.
C
HAPTER
15
Tuesday, October 16
10:00 A.M
.
F
ourteen days since Travis disappeared and four days since Ann was rescued from the tunnel, Kika called on Ann at her home. They sat at the kitchen table, nursing cups of hot tea.
“I can’t believe El Martillo escaped the fire,” Ann said, shaking her head.
Kika nodded. “They say he’s a shrewd man.”
“I’m afraid of what he’ll do to me,” Ann confessed, her eyes wide, remembering the tunnel.
“He’s probably too busy scheming to destroy Julio Ruiz to bother with you, Ann. Besides, you lied about your whereabouts to the police. Why would he risk his business to come after you, when you represent no real danger to him? Especially since you’re now a public figure under the close watch of the police and the media.”
Ann’s return from the warehouse was an event. Reporters from all over southern California came to La Jolla. Calling, emailing, texting,
camping out on her lawn, talking to neighbors—they had tried everything they could to get her to talk about the “warehouse.”
Waves of fear washed over Ann every time she thought of the drug dealer. She had an enemy in Travis’s kidnappers. She couldn’t afford another one, especially one as vicious as El Martillo.
2:30 P.M
.
C
het March had called earlier asking permission to visit. Since the church vigil ten days ago, Ann’s suspicion of the pastor had given way to a feeling of fellowship.
Ann faced Chet across the coffee table in the family room. When she finished telling him her fabricated story about the “warehouse” he said a few appropriate words regarding what she had endured. Then he said, “I wanted to invite you to come hear me preach.”
The abrupt change in subject caught Ann by surprise.
“It’ll be a comfort to you knowing there’s a higher power looking out for you and your boy,” Chet said. “Even if you don’t believe in Him, yet.”
The
yet
was barely audible.
“It’s in times like these that one needs support,” the pastor continued. “My sermon this week is on God’s Love for all His children. Please, Ann. Just hear Him out.”