Whitewater (Rachel Hatch #6)(36)

A tear cleared a path down the girl's dirty face as she locked her arms around Hatch's neck and hugged tightly. Hatch held Letty until she released her grip. It felt good. Although much older, holding the small girl's frame in hers reminded Hatch of her niece, Daphne.

"Thank you," Letty whispered before she walked to the bathroom.

Hatch watched the waif of a girl slip inside the bathroom and close the door before turning her attention back to her hosts. "I can't thank you two enough for your hospitality." Hatch took her empty plate over to Josefina, who’d already finished rinsing the two heavy cast iron pans and was toweling off one of them. "And for the amazing food."

"I hate to eat and run, old friend," Ayala said. "But it looks as though Daphne and I have somewhere to be.

"Just make sure you don't take so long in between your next visit. We miss seeing your face."

"I think you miss my wife's cornbread."

The two old friends embraced in a goodbye hug. Hatch, more prepared this time, accepted hers as Cruz pulled her in, and after getting to know the man, accepted it far less awkwardly than she had when first arriving.

Josefina had packed a couple water bottles and some fruit into a paper sack and handed it to them. As they said their final goodbyes and turned toward the door, headlights penetrated through the curtains. The light was accompanied by the crunching of tires over the unfinished roadway leading to the front of Ernesto's house was followed by the sound of brakes.

"Ms. Nighthawk, you're too pretty a lady to be out here causing this kind of trouble." The voice of Nogales Police Lieutenant Eduardo Munoz broke the silence of the heavy night air.





Twenty-Three





Hatch had peered through a slit in the curtains and saw that the light coming through was generated by two vehicles. Both of the older model Crown Victoria Interceptors fanned out in front of the Cruz residence bore the emblem of the Nogales Municipal Police.

"Is there a safe space we could shelter, aside from the bedroom and bathroom in the back?" Hatch looked across the table at Ernesto.

Letty changed into the better-fitting clothing that Josefina had provided, bypassing the shower, and was now standing in the hallway. Josefina ushered the girl to their version of a safe room, a trapdoor in the floor of the hallway covered by a musty throw rug. Wood stairs led down to a poured concrete basement with canned goods lining the walls. It was a food pantry, but in a pinch, it would have to do.

"I'll let you know when it's safe to come out." Hatch offered a hand to Ernesto who began his descent into the cooler space below.

"You're not getting in?" Ernesto asked. Josefina and Letty were nestling themselves into the far corner. Josefina offering a motherly embrace to the terrified teen.

"Somebody's got to put the rug back over." Hatch winked.

"I can do it," Ayala stopped with one foot in the steps going down into the cellar.

"And then what?" Hatch said. "Wait for them to enter? So they can torture you until they get what they want?"

"What's your plan, then?"

"One that doesn't involve any of the things I just said."

"That wasn't an answer." Ayala, the wordsmith, countered.

"I can tell you this, you're a lot more valuable to me down there. You're going to be the last line of defense."

Ayala accepted his new role and descended the wobbly steps to the uneven basement floor below.

"Any other way out? Windows, doors, anything besides what I can see?" Hatch called down.

Cruz rubbed the scruff at the bottom of his chin. "If you're talking about them getting in, then the front door is the only way. If you're talking about getting out, then that bathroom window might work. It's going to be tight, but I think you'll fit. But I beg of you to stay with us, down here, where it's safe."

"Nothing's safe unless I can stop those men outside from entering." Hatch lifted the hinged door in the floor and prepared to close it.

"Be careful when you get out the window. My bicycle is beneath. It's a broken heap that I've been meaning to fix. Just be careful to avoid it. Otherwise, you're likely to make a lot of noise."

No further protest was made. Hatch closed the door to the cellar and covered it with the rug, ensuring that the dirt line on the floor matched the carpet. If she was compromised, she wanted to give them the best chance of survival.

Hatch moved quickly using the toilet seat to access the small window and Ernesto was right. It was a very tight fit. So tight in fact that she had to take both pistols out of the small of her back and then Superman her way out of the window holding both guns in front of her.

She wriggled herself forward to her midline using her back and core muscles to hold herself as erect as possible before lowering herself. Hatch folded down, bringing the guns in her hands closer to the ground so she could drop them while minimizing the noise.

After momentarily freeing herself of the weapons, Hatch pressed the palms of her hands against the burgundy wall, which upon touching it, she realized it was paint the color of rust and not rust itself. A second later, Hatch propelled herself out of the window like she'd been fired by a cannon, sailing over the broken bike. She turned her shoulder in before hitting the hard dirt, using the momentum from her launch to tuck into a roll just as she passed over the handlebars. Hatch righted herself and immediately grabbed both guns, scanning her surroundings for any potential threat. Finding none, she moved to the left and found cover by a tree.