In a Broken Dream (The Broken Series Book 4) (31 page)

Cenia
translated for me. “Dante’s at the service station. There’s a few people
milling around, looking for other people. No one who looks like Roger or Kadyn.
He thinks it’s safe for us to head back.” We started walking, following the
trees Cenia had notched, while Isabel continued talking on the phone.

Isabel
frowned at her phone. “We were disconnected. The reception is very spotty here.
Maybe we’ll get better service when we get closer to the highway.” She tucked
the phone back inside her purse.

We
quietly picked our way through the trees that would lead us back the direction
we had come. I kept scouring the woods. I was hoping we’d find Kadyn and Roger,
but I was afraid we might intercept someone else. We huddled inside the tree
line when we finally spotted the service station.

“Do
you see Dante?” Cenia asked.

“I
think that’s him, over by the bus,” Isabel replied. She was digging the phone
out of her purse. She glanced at the phone before attempting another call. One
of the men standing near the bus lifted a cell phone to his ear. Isabel spoke
briefly, then ended the call. “He’ll meet us by the van.”

My
heart sank when I saw the van. The windshield was shattered… bullet holes marred
the hood and the grill… and the front passenger side tire was completely flat. It
appeared as if someone had been purposely trying to disable the van… or shoot
them. My eyes raked over the ground as I walked around the van a second time. I
breathed a small sigh of relief when I didn’t see any blood.

“Do
you have the keys?” Cenia asked, staring tearfully at the van.

“I
left the keys in the ignition,” Isabel replied. She felt along the steering
wheel as she poked her head inside the van. “The keys are gone.”

A
man, who appeared to be in his mid-thirties, approached the van. His dark hair
was cropped short. His skin was a little darker than Cenia’s, and he appeared
to be the same height as Roger, who was a couple inches taller than me. He was
wearing blue jeans and a green and gray plaid shirt with long sleeves that were
rolled up until they rested just below his elbow.

He
kissed Isabel on the cheek before speaking to her in Spanish. He glanced
questioningly at Cenia and me.

Isabel
switched to English when she introduced us. “Dante, this is your cousin, Cenia,
and her friend, Kri.”

“I
haven’t seen Dante since I was a child,” Cenia explained, anticipating my
question. She stepped forward and gave him a hug.

“You
were the flower girl at Alicia’s wedding,” he recalled with a smile.

“And
you carried the rings,” Cenia added softly.

My
cheeks heated when I shook his hand. I was painfully aware of the thin layer of
mud coating my rain soaked dress. “Thank you for coming, Dante.”

He
smiled politely before he stepped back to examine the van. “We’re going to have
to replace that tire. Do you think it will start?”

Cenia
climbed into the front passenger seat. “We need to find the keys. Roger
wouldn’t have taken them. He’s probably just hidden them somewhere.” She opened
the glove box and checked under the mats as she began searching for the keys.

I
climbed into the back. “The portrait is still here. The protective wrap is
still in place so I think your picture is okay.” I examined the garment bag,
carefully unzipped it, and peeked inside. “You’re dress looks fine.” Something
hard brushed against my foot when I tugged the zipper back into place. I
unzipped the garment bag all the way down and peered into the bottom. I didn’t
want to reach inside. I was afraid I’d get mud on Cenia’s dress.

Cenia
joined me in the back of the van. She carefully felt along the bottom of the
bag, squeezing it from the outside. “That’s where he hid them! I knew Roger
wouldn’t take the keys.” She carefully reached inside the bag. “Wait. Is this…”

“Kadyn’s
cell phone,” I confirmed, thoroughly perplexed.

Cenia
handed me the cell phone so she could dig the keys out of the garment bag. “Why
would Kadyn leave his cell phone?” she asked. She handed the keys to Isabel before
zipping the bag.

I
scrolled through Kadyn’s messages while Dante made multiple attempts to start
the van. I didn’t see any text messages or notes on his ColorNote app relevant
to the gunfight. “His last text message was dated yesterday,” I informed Cenia,
who was studying me intently. She was still clinging to the garment bag.

I
stared at the phone.
Think, Kri. Why would Kadyn leave his phone!
My
thumb hovered uncertainly over the screen. I tapped on the camera icon and
switched over to his photo gallery. “Holy crap!”

“What?”
Cenia exclaimed. She tossed the garment bag aside.

I
handed her the cell phone.

She
swallowed nervously before studying the picture. “He’s trying to tell us
something,” she whispered. Her eyes met mine.

Dante
poked his head between the front seats. “What’s going on?”

“Kadyn
took a picture of the man and the truck that pulled up shortly before they sent
us into the woods,” I explained.

Cenia
held the cell phone up so Dante could see the picture. “Do you know who this
is? People ran when he climbed out of his truck, like they knew who he was.”

Dante
shook his head. “No, but I would have run too. Look at all those weapons.”

Isabel
asked him something in Spanish.

Dante
shook his head. “No one fitting Roger and Kadyn’s descriptions. I’ve already
asked.”

“What’s
that?” Cenia asked. Dante had pulled a small glittering object from his pocket.

His
eyes bounced between Cenia, her wedding dress, and the object in his hand. “I
found this lying in a pile of bullet casings.” He handed Cenia the object.

“That’s
my ring!” Cenia exclaimed. “You found this lying on the ground?”

Isabel
sucked in a breath. “Cenia! How could you lose your ring? Were you having
trouble keeping it on your finger?”

Cenia
studied the ring. “No. Roger asked for the engagement ring last week, so he
could have the rings soldered before the wedding.”

I
was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Dante had found the ring.
“Do you think Roger dropped it?” That didn’t sound like Roger, but if he’d been
carrying it in his pocket...

“He
was burying it, so he could come back and get it later,” Dante surmised.

“But
why would he do that?” Isabel demanded.

Dante
looked reluctant to explain. “If he thought he was going to be shot or forced
away at gunpoint, he wouldn’t want the cartel stealing the ring. Cenia would
never see it again.”

Cenia
slipped the ring onto her finger as a single tear slid silently down her cheek.

I
shook my head. “God, the phone… the ring… the keys. How could they even think
straight with all those people and bullets flying around?”

Dante
glanced at Isabel. “Look, I don’t know how much longer we should be sitting
here. This van isn’t going to start. Why don’t we transfer your things over to my
truck? I’ll take you back to the farmhouse so you can get cleaned up. Then
we’ll start making phone calls.”

“We
should leave some sort of note,” I insisted. “What if they come back here?”

Isabel
pulled a pen and a piece of paper from her purse. “I’ll leave my cell phone
number, since my phone is the only one working right now.” She scribbled her
phone number on the slip of paper and handed it to Cenia. “Set it in the back
where they left the wedding dress. Even if Roger’s cell phone doesn’t work,
they’ll find someone who will let them use his phone.”

“They
may not let him make an international call,” Dante interjected. “Maybe you
should add my phone number.”

Isabel
shook her head. “If the wrong people got a hold of that number…” She didn’t
need to finish her sentence.

Cenia
wrote
we are safe
above the phone number before placing the note on the
third row seat.

We
gathered her portrait, the dress, accessories, and the items Isabel had
purchased for the rehearsal dinner and set them inside Dante’s truck. He was
driving a white four door Ford F-150 pickup truck. Cenia and I climbed into the
back seat. Isabel sat in the front.

Dante
turned to face us after starting the truck. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to
drive through a war zone in order to get to the farmhouse. I don’t know how
much the soldiers have cleaned up. They were pulling bodies into the back of
their trucks when I drove through earlier.”

I
closed my eyes against the images he provoked. “Did you stop to talk to
anyone?”

“Yes,”
he replied solemnly. “There were no
gringos
or
negros
among the
bodies found up the road.”

I
sent up a small prayer of thanksgiving.

Dante
eased onto the highway. He turned in the same direction we’d been driving when
we saw the plume of smoke.

Cenia
reached for my hand when we saw all the cars stranded in the center of the
road. The cars were riddled with bullets. Nearly every vehicle was facing
south, as if trying to flee whatever atrocity had befallen them. All of their
flashers were on.

I
took a deep breath and blew it out. Clothes were strewn all over the highway. Dark
stains marred the faded asphalt, despite the rain we’d experienced earlier. It
wasn’t difficult to discern where the bodies had been.

“The
soldiers turn the flashers on so people won’t drive into the cars when the sun
goes down,” Dante explained. He was driving on the shoulder of the road, navigating
around mounds of gravel that had been dumped there for some road construction
project. We were nearing the last vehicle. A Ford Excursion, charred and still smoldering,
was sitting perpendicular to the road. I suspected this was where the plume of
smoke had come from.

“Why
don’t they just move the vehicles to the side of the road?” Cenia asked before pinching
her nose closed. The smells emanating from the charred vehicle were nauseating.

Dante
grimaced as he glanced at us in the rearview mirror. “They’re too busy picking
up dead bodies.”

He
pulled over as I began to retch.

I
was sitting on the stone hearth in front of the fireplace, inside Dante’s farmhouse.
Cenia was sitting on a worn wingback chair next to the window. An untouched
plate of food sat next to me, mirroring the untouched plate of food next to
Cenia. Neither of us could eat.

I
blew tendrils of steam from the cup of tea Dante’s wife, Maria, had given me. I
sipped the tea cautiously, then set it aside to cool. I was grateful for the
tea, the warm fire, and the shower.

I
tightened the belt on my bathrobe. Maria had insisted we take a warm shower the
second we arrived. She loaned Cenia and Isabel her bathrobes and lent me one of
Dante’s bathrobes so she could wash our clothes. I was painfully aware of the
fact that I was completely naked underneath. I wondered how much longer it
would be before our clothes were dry.

I
stared at my feet. Maria had rubbed a salve into our feet, treating the cuts
and scrapes before bundling us all in fluffy socks. Large bandages graced both
of my knees, but I’d drawn the line at the cuts and scrapes on my arms and
face. They were shallow and small and would be gone in a few days, hopefully in
time for the wedding. If there was a wedding.

Tears
pooled in my eyes as I watched Cenia. She was staring out the window. I doubted
she could see anything more than her reflection since it was dark outside. Her
father was due to arrive any minute. Rafael was on his way as well, but he had
an entire ocean to climb over. He was facing thirteen hours of flight time, a
short layover, and a two hour drive.

Cenia
lifted her head from the back of the chair when Dante walked through the front
door. “Any luck?” she asked.

He
shook his head dejectedly as he set Kadyn’s cell phone on the coffee table. “No
one seems to know who that man is. If they do, they’re not willing to admit it.”

Maria
walked in from the kitchen. “Dante, please tell me you were careful about who
you asked. You know what could happen if we discuss this with the wrong
person.”

Dante
pulled Maria into his arms. “I didn’t ask any strangers. I only spoke to people
we know.” They walked into the kitchen, where Isabel was sitting.

I
swiped my thumb across my cell phone screen and stared at it for the hundredth
time, willing it to ring. I wasn’t getting any service. I had an international
calling plan, but I didn’t have a SIM card for Mexico. I sifted through the
pictures on my phone until I found the picture of Kadyn from the sleepover the
other night. “
Where are you?
”
I asked.

I
turned the phone over in my hand while I turned the day’s events in my head.
Why didn’t Kadyn and Roger run into the woods with us? Why would they stay
behind? Were they trying to prevent the van from being stolen? Were they hoping
to save the people on the bus? There were no bodies, no blood, when we returned
to the service station. One of the buses was still there, but it had been shot
up pretty badly. The bus was probably disabled, like our van.