Authors: Andrew Peterson
Estefan peered around the tree but saw no sign of the girl. He ought to be able to see her by now.
Something felt wrong.
The crickets behind him had gone quiet, which could mean only one thing.
He slowly pivoted to his left.
Incredible!
The girl was standing a mere thirty feet away with her arms crossed. She’d managed to maneuver down the bank and get behind him undetected. If she’d been armed
. . .
He couldn’t see a lot of detail, but she was beautiful, that much was clear. Long black hair accented strong cheekbones, and her shorts and tank top were tight in all the right places.
Estefan spoke in Spanish. It was unlikely this girl knew English. “That’s a good trick, sneaking up on me, but it’s also a good way to get yourself killed.”
“I knew you’d hide down here.”
“How’s that?”
“On your way over here, you weren’t looking over your shoulder to clear your six. You knew I was behind you. You’re Tobias’s son, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
“And if I am?”
“He talked about you, said you were a soldier.”
Estefan brought his gun up. “Do I need this?”
“Hardly, I’m not here for a fight.”
“What’s your name?”
“Antonia.”
“Well, Antonia, ‘clearing six’ is a military term.”
She raised her chin slightly. “I know. I have a friend who’s teaching me.”
“And
. . .
?”
“I saw you give my father some cash.”
“I see
. . .
What are you offering?”
She sucked her teeth. “Not that.”
“It’s past your bedtime, sweetheart. I’m over twice your age and not interested. Let’s try again. What’re you offering?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Nice meeting you, Antonia.” He turned to leave.
“I know stuff.”
“You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Something’s happening tomorrow.”
“Such as
. . .
?”
Again, she didn’t respond.
Estefan nodded toward the road. “The money’s in my truck. I trust twenty-five hundred córdobas will do?”
“It’s a good start.”
“So tell me about your friend.”
She cocked her head impatiently.
“Right
. . .
I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Estefan picked up his pack, climbed the bank, and walked at a good clip toward the road. He could make better time along the rim of the bank. He knew Nathan couldn’t see him because of his proximity to the trees lining the river. Nathan had to be wondering what was going on. When he reached a safe distance from Antonia, he pulled the radio.
“I’m heading back to my truck. The girl wants cash for information.”
“What kind of information?”
“She’s tight-lipped until she sees some green.”
“I guess the entrepreneurial spirit is alive and well in Santavilla.”
“I’m heading over to my pickup to get it.”
“We’ll keep eyes on the area and make sure no one else approaches her position.”
“I’d appreciate it. I’m reluctant to admit this, but she got behind me.”
“How close did she get before you heard her?”
“That’s just it—I didn’t hear her at all. But to answer your question, ten yards. She said she has a friend who’s been teaching her. She knows what ‘clear your six’ means.”
“Interesting.”
“Tell me about it. She must know someone who’s a cop or in the military.”
“Your father’s letters spoke of her desire to leave Santavilla. Maybe this guy’s her ticket out of there. He must be the white shirt your father mentioned. How much money does she want?”
“I offered twenty-five hundred córdobas, and she told me it was good start.”
“Her friend could be Raven,”
Harv added.
“Harv’s right. She could be the break we’re looking for. Tell her there’s more if she keeps the info flowing. What’s your take on her?”
“She’s confident but hard to read. If I had to bet, I’d say she knows a lot.”
“Play up to her ego, then. Keep her talking.”
“That shouldn’t be difficult.”
Eight minutes later, Estefan descended the creek’s bank and found Antonia in the same place, finishing a cigarette. She flicked the butt into the water.
He handed her a wad of bills. “We’ll start with this and see how far it goes. If I like what I’m hearing, there will be more.”
She tucked the money into her waist.
“A helicopter’s going to land at the lumber mill tomorrow. Everyone knows why.”
“Enlighten me.”
“It takes the gold out of here.”
“How do you know that?”
“The man who’s teaching me stuff is one of El Jefe’s white shirts. All the other white shirts report to him.”
Estefan knew about the white-shirt reference from his dad’s letters. El Jefe’s lieutenants wore white buttoned shirts to distinguish themselves from the other men. “Did he tell you that?”
She nodded.
“How many white shirts are there?”
“Five, I think.”
“How many men does El Jefe have?”
“Maybe twenty, but only a few stay in town.”
“At the lumber mill?”
She nodded.
“How many?”
“Usually five.”
“Do any of his white shirts stay in town?”
She made a
pshh
sound. “Hardly, they might get their shoes dirty.”
“The white shirt who’s teaching you stuff, what’s his name?”
“Franco.”
“Last name?”
“I don’t know it—he never told me.”
“What happened to your father’s ear? I didn’t ask him.”
“Franco came into town with a bunch of his men the night before Tobias was killed. They cut my dad’s ear off, because he was hoarding gold to pay for my mom’s medicine. Tobias tried to stop them, but they beat him up.”
Estefan took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. None of this was in the letters.
“What does Franco look like?”
“I don’t know. He just looks like a guy.”
“How old is he?”
“Maybe forties. I’m not really sure.”
“Is he tall and thin, short and fat, what?”
“He kinda looks like you. You know, the same build. He has really dark eyes. He thinks they make him look tough.”
Estefan felt his skin tighten. “Does this guy have a small round scar above his left eye?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
Raven.
Her eyes had changed, confidence giving way to fear. “He’ll kill me if he finds out I’m talking to you.”
“He won’t find out from me.”
“Are you going to kill him?”
“And if I am?”
“That’s going to be difficult by yourself. He has lots of men.”
“I’m used to working alone.”
She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. “You mind?”
“They’re your lungs . . .”
She seemed to sense his next question. “Franco gives them to me.” She cupped the match with both hands, took a deep drag, and blew the flame out with her exhale.
Estefan recognized the technique. “Did he teach you that?”
“What?”
“Shielding the flare of the match.”
“He’s always paranoid someone’s watching him. When we’re together, he’s always looking around, even when
. . .
you know.”
“For what it’s worth, my advice is to steer clear of him. Whatever he’s told you is a lie. Let me guess, he said he’s going to take you out of here someday.”
She nodded.
“Do you honestly believe that?”
“He’s never lied to me.”
“Trust me, he doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Look, all I can do is warn you. You have to decide what to do. How do I get ahold of you later?”
“If you call the house at ten in the morning, my dad’s up at the mines. My mom’s in the gold mill. There’s nobody there but me, but I have to go to work at noon.”
“Where do you work?”
“At the Perezes’ store. I work the late shift until eight at night.” She went quiet for a moment.
“Does he give you money?”
“I’m not a whore!”
“Hey, calm down. I didn’t say you were.”
“I’m a mistress.”
Estefan nearly laughed.
Is that what you are?
“He gives me nice clothes and stuff. We have a flat TV and a satellite dish. We even have a dishwasher. He’s teaching me how to shoot guns. I can hit a beer can at fifty meters.”
“You’re using a scoped rifle?”
“He says it’s his favorite gun of all time. A ‘remilard,’ or something.”
“Remington?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Another piece of the puzzle.
“You said a helicopter’s coming tomorrow. Franco told you that?”
“He flies it himself. He said he’d give me a ride someday. I’ve never been in one.”
“Do you know when he’s coming?”
“He always comes before I go to work.”
“So sometime before noon?”
She nodded.
“How do you contact each other?”
“He calls the house twice, but he only lets it ring once each time. It’s our secret code. I’m supposed to call him back from the pay phone.”
Estefan waited.
“No way. I’m not giving you his number.”
“When does he call?”
“We usually talk really late when everyone’s asleep but not always.”
“Aren’t you worried people will find out? You know, that you’re his mistress?”
“I’m not the only one. All of the white shirts have girls here. It’s not really a secret.”
“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean to suggest you were a prostitute.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Nearly all the girls my age are selling themselves to the miners. Younger ones too. They trade sex for gold and turn it in on free Sunday.”
“What’s free Sunday?”
She took another hit. “It’s why my dad got in trouble. El Jefe lets the miners pan gold on Sundays, but they have to trade it in for cash at the end of the day. Some of the miners don’t turn all of it in. El Jefe calls it hoarding.”
“How much gold can they pan in one day?”
“I don’t really know, but Franco told me most of them get around two or three hundred córdobas for it.”
Estefan took a step forward. “Antonia, why did you come out here? Was it just for the money?”
She looked down. “I liked your father—everyone did. He was a really nice man. I was there when he got shot.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
For the first time, she showed some emotion and wiped a tear. “I was at the church meeting just before it happened. He went out to the work bus to greet the miners like he always does, and he handed something to my father. It looked like money. That’s when I heard it. There was a loud sound, like a whip. I didn’t know what the sound was.”
“It’s a supersonic bullet. It makes a small sonic boom. How long was it between that sound and report of the rifle?”
“What do you mean?”
“You should’ve heard a thud sound right after the crack.”
“I did hear it. I remember because it echoed like thunder.”
“Was it about one second?”
“I think so, but I’m not sure.”
“But the two sounds weren’t really close together, right? There was a delay?”
“Yes, I remember it. Mrs. Perez ran over to your father and held his hand. Everyone else was too scared. I think he died pretty fast. She held his head and said a prayer. I felt really bad for him. It took the police forever to get here, and nobody would talk to them.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m glad he didn’t die alone.”
“Mrs. Perez really liked him. She’s been really sad lately. She hardly comes into the store anymore.”
Estefan needed to up the stakes. “You’re in a dangerous relationship. The man who considers you his mistress is the sniper who killed my father.”
“Because he knows about rifles?”
“Other things too. He also shot the manager at the lumber mill a few months ago.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Look, Antonia, you seem like a smart girl. I don’t know what you’ve got going with him. It’s none of my business, but I don’t want you to become his next victim. I’m serious. He’s not what he appears to be. Don’t trust him at all; he’s just using you until he doesn’t need you anymore.”
“Maybe I’m using him.”
“Then you’re playing a very dangerous game. Think about what I told you, okay?”
She didn’t react.
“I have to go. The nice stuff Franco’s buying for you? The money and clothes? His promise to take you out of here? It’s not worth selling your soul. Deep down, I think you know that.”
He couldn’t see her face, but her body language suggested she was about to cry again.
With that, Estefan walked away. When he looked back a few seconds later, she was gone. She must’ve climbed the bank, but he needed to be certain she wouldn’t follow him. Estefan pulled his radio and turned the volume up a little.
“You guys copy?”
“We’re here.”
“Do you have eyes on the girl?”
“Affirm. She’s heading for the church.”
“I’m ninety-nine percent sure her boyfriend, who goes by Franco, is Raven.” He told Nathan and Harv about the scar—the scar he had given Raven during a fistfight when they’d both been drunk right after the war.