Whitewater (Rachel Hatch #6)(32)

Angela heard the tension in the man's voice. Pencil's matched his look. He spoke in a choked squeak. Bigfoot, on the other hand, sounded like the low rumble of a diesel truck, but it was Pencil who spoke first. His panic-babbled Spanish was difficult at first for Angela to pick up, but she honed in on keywords and phrases and was able to make out most of what he said.

"I don't know how she did it," Pencil's voice was frantic. He was unhinged. He always had a nervous edge to him, but something was different, Angela could tell.

"One woman burned down the club and took five of our girls?" Bigfoot's voice rumbled. "I know one thing, if I was there, she'd be in a room with the red head there."

Pencil squeaked a laugh. "Maybe so. Doesn't matter. Not our job."

"I know, I know," Bigfoot said. "The orders just came in. Somebody paid a good price, and we've got to get our package in there cleaned up and ready to go."

Keys rattled against the lock. The shadows of her two captors crept inside as the door opened. Angela Rothman looked up into the light silhouetting their faces, and for the first time since crossing over into Mexico, she had her first glimmer of hope.





Twenty-One





Miguel Ayala pulled up in an older model Nissan Sentra missing three of its four hubcaps. When Hatch placed the call to Ayala, the newspaper man answered immediately and had then given her directions of where to go.

Ayala had told Hatch to go to the San Antonio Nogales Road until it dead ended in a T intersection with Highway 2. He then instructed her to take a right and travel southwest on the two-lane highway for several miles until she came across the Mission of Guadalupe, a Christian mission devoted to caring for the people of the Rancho San Rafael region.

Hatch waited in the parking lot with Letty for over an hour before Ayala arrived. Hatch figured the van she'd stolen had some type of GPS transponder or way of tracking it. Even though she didn't locate one when she pulled to the side of the road after fleeing the nightclub, it didn't mean it didn't have one. Better safe than sorry. Plus, even without a transponder pinging their location, it wouldn't be long until the many eyes of the cartel spotted their blacked-out van.

Hatch was relieved to now be sitting safely inside of the Nissan while Letty slept curled in the backseat. Ayala must have been thinking along the same lines as Hatch because he’d picked a location in the opposite direction, where they headed now. They’d passed the T intersection on the left a few miles ago and proceeded in a north by northwesterly direction on Highway 2. They were a little over an hour into a four-hour drive before they reached Janos, a small town only a few hours east of Juarez. Ayala had a contact there who could help Letty get back to her family.

Hatch also figured it was a good place to regroup away from Nogales so she could figure out her next move and hopefully get word on Angela’s location. They’d driven silently since leaving the mission's lot. Miguel realized both Letty and Hatch needed some time to recover both mentally and physically from the ordeal at the nightclub.

With three hours left in the drive, Ayala broke the silence. He leaned closer and in a low whisper said, "I drove by the nightclub on my way to meet you. When you said you were going to burn it down, I didn't know you meant literally."

"Truth be known, neither did I," Hatch gave a soft chuckle.

"Sorry about that information I gave you." Ayala's solemn tone was reflected in the man's face.

"The information you provided is the reason that young girl is sleeping soundly in back rather than tied to a bed. And you were right about the info." Hatch thumbed toward the girl in the back of the Nissan wearing Hatch's old clothes given to the kind-hearted Azul and now handed down to the girl. "She does have red hair—well reddish. And she's just as deserving of being saved as Angela. I just wish I could have gotten all of those girls to come with me, but…" Hatch let the rest go unsaid.

"Sometimes we can't save them all." Ayala guided the Nissan through a rough patch of road.

Ayala brought the shaking vehicle under control. A gold watch with an emerald green face jingled loosely at Ayala's left wrist. He caught Hatch eyeing it and turned it to her, bringing it closer to her face so she could better see it. "It was my father's," he said, happy to shift subjects, as was Hatch. "He was a good man, an honest man. He chose the path of peace and I, one of war. After I hung up my guns, I saw the value in his path and started wearing it as a reminder. Sadly, my father never got to see me change course. I wear it to honor him. It's like having him with me. Silly, I guess."

"Not at all." Hatch thought about her own father and how she honored him by living the code that he had taught her, help good people and punish those who hurt them. Easy to remember, harder to follow. Hatch's life's journey had proven that at least that much was true.

"I'm sure your father would be proud," Hatch said, bringing a smile to Ayala's face, "And I, for one, think the girl in the back would agree."

Ayala flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror at the girl on his backseat. "Ernesto and his wife will get her safely home. What you did back there was very brave."

"I couldn't have done it without you,” Hatch replied.

“I'm hoping that Ernesto may have more information about the girl you're looking for. Just as the cartel has eyes and ears everywhere, so does Ernesto. And maybe one of them can point us in the right direction."