Land of Entrapment (32 page)

“Not until twelve,” she said softly. “Go sit down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I refilled my coffee cup and went to the dining room. Breakfast was delicious. Green chile, avocado, and havarti cheese omelets. Papas fritas with a little bit of ranchera sauce on each rounded breakfast out.

“So what’s your schedule today?” she asked.

“Nothing. Waiting. I’ve done about all I can do.

Chris will let me know what’s happening.”

“If you want to do some laundry, go ahead. We’ve got stuff here or Megan has detergent and dryer stuff at her place. I think it’s in her closet. She does her laundry here.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that. You need me to do anything else around here? Anything need fixing?”

She laughed, a delightful sound in the morning.

“No, but I’ll keep you in mind. Jeff’ll probably be around to shower. He has to work tonight and he might actually sleep a bit.”

I finished eating about the same time Sage did. I stood first. “Go shower. I’ve got this.” She looked up at me, an odd expression on her face that dissolved into a grin. I smiled back. “We sure do that a lot, don’t we?” I said as I collected her plate.

“What?”

“Smile. But I just can’t help myself around you.” I retreated to the kitchen and began cleaning up. The faint sound of water running in the bathroom floated through my consciousness. Twenty minutes later, I finished the dishes and Sage appeared in the doorway, dressed in a cute pair of baggy shorts and a loose sleeveless shirt. She wore her sport sandals, as usual. Her hair was still damp and she smelled like lavender and cloves.

“Will I see you later?”

“Absolutely. And if I’m not around, call.”

“Cool.” She lowered her gaze, shy all of a sudden.

“I’ll see you. Have a good day.” And then she zipped to the front door. I went onto the front porch with my coffee and waved as she pulled away from the curb.

It’s like I’ve known her those two years she waited. Or longer. I went inside, shut things down, and locked up so I could go shower my own self. And then I would definitely do some laundry.

I SPENT THE rest of the morning and part of the afternoon organizing around Megan’s. I washed the blankets and sheets on the bed and then started in on my own clothes. By two, the first hint of a real monsoon rain had started rolling in. I watched clouds the color of slate gather to the west. A few of them darkened and by two-thirty rain fell over the western flatlands, where a few long-extinct volcanoes jutted from the desert floor. The Hopis believe that kachina spirits bring the rains every year. If the rains don’t come, the spirits are angry or sad somehow about the way the earth has been treated.

The monsoon season here comes like clockwork.

Clouds gather in the late July afternoons and then massive thunderstorms pound the city for a few minutes or maybe an hour. Then they stop and catch the next wind east, dissipating like thoughts. The streets steam briefly in the New Mexico sun as they dry, but I knew that by evening rush hour, most evidence of the afternoon’s rain would be completely gone. An expectant stillness clung to the afternoon heat and I knew it was time. The kachinas had finally come.

By three the clouds rolled over the city, bringing cooler air. I smelled ozone and thought I heard a distant rumbling. A few raindrops splatted onto the hard-packed earth of the back yard and I decided to watch the impending storm from the front porch of the main house. I settled into a chair with a glass of iced tea just as my Austin phone rang. The number looked vaguely familiar. I answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Mark Aragon. I was just calling to let you know that I got your message and I’ve talked to Chris.

She should be giving you a buzz shortly. Hey, I appreciate all the work you’ve done and I sure hope you think about maybe consulting with us in the future.” When he stopped to breathe, I jumped in.

“Well, thanks. I’ll think about it. I guess now I’ll just wait to hear from Chris. I know you’re busy.”

“I mean it. Think about it. Keep my number.

Later.”

“Bye.” I hung up. Consulting, huh? It sounded interesting, but I had things to do in Texas yet. I filed the thought away for later. The thunder rumbled closer, muttering ancient incantations around the edges of the clouds. I felt the city hold its breath and I dialed nine, which I had programmed as Sage’s number. It rang four times and her voice-mail picked up. “Welcome to my—that would be Sage Crandall’s—phone! I wish I wasn’t doing something either completely inane or utterly compelling because I would so take your call. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you ASAP. Oh, wait for the beep.

Thanks.”

Her voice seeped into my skull and ran its hands along the neurons in my brain. God help me. I dutifully waited for the beep. “Hey, Sage’s phone. I really hope what you’re doing is utterly compelling rather than completely inane. I’m watching the rain move in and I wish you were here to share the moment. I’ve been thinking about you and I really enjoy doing that. See you later. Hope your day’s good. Oh, it’s K.C. That would be K period C period. Bye.”

I hung up just as the clouds opened overhead.

Within minutes the streets ran like rivers and the gutter overflowed with water, lawn scraps, and bits of urban remains like paper cups and stray aluminum cans. Cars had to slow, wipers working furiously to no avail. The rain thickened to hail and I fervently hoped my Subaru could withstand a true monsoon hailstorm. It looked like a winter wonderland, an inch of pea-sized hail coating sidewalks and lawns. The breeze chilled and goosebumps erupted on my calves.

Jeff’s little Honda CR-X pulled up in front. He got out and sprinted toward the porch. “Woo-wee!

Damn!” He laughed when he got to the top of the steps. He was drenched. “Don’t need that shower after all. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Hope you don’t mind—Sage said I could do laundry.”

“No problem. Shit! I’ll shower after all. I’m freezing!” He ran inside. Out here, the temperature dropped during a storm. My theory was that in humid climates, the moisture already in the air was warm when it rained, so it helped keep the temperature relatively stable even during a thunderstorm. Which is why the rain feels warm when it falls. Out here, because there was no layer of warm moisture in the air, the rain was cold when it fell and it stayed cold until it hit the pavement. The heat from the asphalt warmed it the longer it lingered, though, which is why some of the puddles felt warm when you splashed around in them. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, delighting in the smell and feel of the rain as it lessened somewhat. My phone rang again and I checked the ID.

“Hey, Detective Incredible,” I answered.

“Hiya, chica. I love calling you. How are you?”

“Doing better. How are you?”

“Same. Okay, here’s the deal. I’m going to swing by after work and tell you what I know. That’ll be around seven or so.”

“I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Bueno. I’m in the mood for Il Vicino.”

“Sounds good.”

“I have to go. Stay dry. Later.”

“Bye.”

I hung up and continued to watch the rain.

Twenty minutes later, it stopped and the sun tore the clouds apart. I went in to check my laundry.

“WE’RE GOING TO bring Ray and Cody in.”

Chris finished up her side salad and took a drink from her beer. Il Vicino brewed its own. She was drinking their pale ale, called “Pigtail Blond.”

I didn’t say anything.

“And I think the best way to do that is, frankly, to use Megan to do it.”

I clenched my jaw, then relaxed. “That might work for Cody but not necessarily for Ray.”

“Hold on. Here’s what we’re thinking. You’re Megan’s lifeline. She has your number and she’s been calling you every chance she’s gotten since she found out you’re in town. So the next chance she has, she’ll most likely call you. The odds say that.”

The server took Chris’s empty plate.

“Tell Megan that she needs to plan to get to the Allsup’s before the meeting starts. Preferably around seven forty-five. Chances are, they’re going to start coming early and some will probably hang out there most of the day. She can offer to go buy cigarettes for the meeting. That’s something these guys want their women to do, right? Run errands. Make coffee. Lie down.” She grimaced.

“Okay.” I didn’t want to think about Megan lying down for Cody. Or any of those slimy bastards, for that matter.

“Mark will be there in his personal vehicle. It’s a brown Chevy Blazer, older model. Give Megan that description. I gave him a picture of Megan.”

I didn’t like where this was going. “Chris, I need to be there with Mark. Megan might freak.”

“You will be. But a couple of these guys know what you look like, and what if they might decide to follow Megan?” She stopped and looked at me, on the way to cop mode. “Understand, Kase. I did not want you to be part of this. Especially after what happened yesterday.” She leaned forward. “But you’re right. I think you need to be there for Megan. You have a rapport with her—one that I think is better than the one with Melissa. At least for right now. So you’ll be on the floor or the seat in the back. If Mark needs you to check something, he’ll tell you. Okay? But you will listen to him and you will not give him any shit or argue any damn logic with him. Do you understand?”

She was now completely in cop mode and entirely serious. The server showed up and delivered two individual pizzas. I ordered another beer. Chris looked at me. “The operation is in conjunction with the Santa Fe County Sheriff’s Office. I’m not going to be the arresting officer, but because of my familiarity with this case, I’m coming along.” She regarded me, still deadly serious. “And I want to make sure that nothing happens to you or Megan. If you start pulling anything stupid, I will personally drag you into my vehicle and handcuff you in the backseat.”

I didn’t make the crack about handcuffs that popped into my head. “What time should I hook up with Mark?”

“That depends on Cody. When he text-messages you the time and location, let Mark know so he can confirm with everyone or make sure that people know what the new time and location are. At this point, we’re assuming it’s at eight at the Partridge Lane address. Once you have that information, ask Mark what he thinks.” She took a bite of her pizza and the server delivered my beer, the “Slow Down Brown.”

“Okay. Can I call you if I need to?”

Her expression softened. “You can always call me.

You just need to understand that these are real people who have real weapons. These aren’t just Web sites and flyers. As much as you know about them, you haven’t really dealt with them.”

She was right. Yesterday proved that. I nodded and ate in silence. I didn’t feel so self-assured anymore. “I’m not going to the meeting, right?”

“Right. We didn’t think that was necessary or a good idea. Besides, we were worried that if you showed up and Megan saw you, she might not be able to hide her recognition. And Watkins might actually recognize you from the night he tried to get in.”

I took a sip of my beer. The gravity of the situation was sinking in. “What about Melissa?”

“I called her. She’ll be waiting for us. She felt, as I did, that it was better for you to be there than for her.

She did ask what I thought, which was interesting.”

Chris shrugged and took a sip of beer. “I don’t think she’s ever liked me much.” She flashed a quick smile at me.

“She’s never been sure what to make of our friendship,” I said. “She trusted both of us, though.

On a funny note, Megan always liked you. She once told me if she wasn’t straight, she’d totally go for you.” I made kissing noises.

Chris laughed, slightly embarrassed. “Great. So it was either me or the neo-Nazi. Not sure that says much about Megan’s tastes.”

I laughed as well. “Hey, anybody who makes a play for you has great taste.”

She took another swallow of beer and set her glass down. “Anyway,” she said, “Megan will need to make an initial statement and hopefully, we’ll be able to track a few more of these fuckheads down.”

Something scary occurred to me. “She’ll be in danger if she does that.”

“And it’s up to Megan, ultimately, what she wants to do. We’ve got Cody and Roy on other charges. But if Megan doesn’t want to follow up with them or anybody else, there’s nothing anyone can do. If she does, then she’ll have to think about living on somebody’s shit list and changing her identity.”

“They don’t teach you this crap in school,” I muttered.

Chris reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “You did a good thing. Your work busted up a white supremacist group that might be planning something really dangerous. And you’re getting Megan out. Hopefully she’ll steer clear of groups like this in the future.” She let go of my hand and went back to her pizza. “Just do everything Mark says and you and Megan will be fine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“This is scary and I don’t want anybody to get hurt.”

“Hey.” She looked at me. “It’s our job. You provided the information. That’s your job. Now it’s our turn. And we’re good at what we do.” She picked up another piece of her pizza. “So how’s Sage?”

“Amazing.”

Chris lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“No, not like that. I don’t know about that yet.”

“Please. From the looks of her, you’ve got nothing to worry about in the biblical sense.”

“I’m not really thinking about that. I’m worried about when I have to leave.”

Chris chewed her pizza. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” she said after she swallowed.

I looked at her like she had suddenly started dancing on the table.

“Esa, she is so into you that if you had to go to Antarctica for a year, she’d either follow you or tell you to call her when you got back. Provided, of course, that you reciprocated.” Chris looked at me over the rim of her glass.

“What are you saying?”

She put her glass down. “So you’re in Texas. So she’s in New Mexico. So what? If you like each other, distance can be done. And because I love you, I’m telling you that you’d be quite possibly the biggest pendeja on the planet if you didn’t give her a chance.”