Long Range (Joe Pickett Book 20)(92)

“Hurry, please,” he said to her. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re dressed.”

*

LIV LOOKED AT her reflection in the bathroom mirror. He’d let her fill a bag at a local Walgreens with makeup and other items while he waited for her out in the car with Kestrel. While inside, she’d eyed other customers who were in their own worlds and none of them paid much attention to her. Not that she would have told them her baby was outside next to a cartel killer, but she wished she could have communicated something. That she couldn’t made her feel complicit in her own kidnapping.

Liv knew they were close to the border. Once they got there, she had no idea what would happen. But she couldn’t think of any way to distract him, grab Kestrel, and run away without risking the life of her baby and herself. Orlando was careful and calm. He had no vices to exploit.

Liv opened the latch and shoved up on the bathroom window frame. For a second, she envisioned a scenario where she would claim that she needed to change Kestrel’s diaper out of his view, then she’d slip through the window with her baby and run.

Unfortunately, the window opened only three inches before it hit a barrier.

She leaned down and looked out. Dust from the sill blew in her eyes from the wind. But she’d caught a glimpse of something she hoped was real and not wish fulfillment, like her previous scenario.

Then she saw it again: a battered Jeep looking much like Nate’s passing through the opening between two motel units.

Liv held her breath and stood motionless. She didn’t hear a car door slam.

A moment later, there he was. He moved from unit to unit with his elbow bent and his pistol pointed up near the side of his face. She didn’t dare shout, but she implored him with her eyes to look her way.

He did. Their eyes locked. He didn’t seem anxious in the least.

Nate mimed a knocking gesture with his free hand and followed it by holding his arm straight out, palm down, and lowering it to the ground.

She understood and she nodded that she did.

Liv quickly closed the window, threw her clothes on, and opened the bathroom door.

*

PANFILE WATCHED HER come out. She was naturally beautiful, but he was a little disappointed she hadn’t made herself up into something more glamorous since he’d intentionally given her the time and opportunity.

She smiled nervously at him and went straight toward Kestrel on the bed. The baby’s head had listed to the side while she slept and Liv gently tucked in her blankets and set her right.

The knock on the outside door was firm and insistent.

“Housekeeping.”

Panfile recognized the voice of the motel desk clerk. He quickly checked to confirm that the bolt and the door chain were in place, that the hotel staffer couldn’t just walk in on them. “We’re fine,” he called. “We don’t require anything now.”

The knock again. “Housekeeping.”

As he stood up, Panfile saw that Liv had gone around the foot of the bed and was still tending to Kestrel in her car seat. He approached the door.

“We don’t need anything,” he said.

Another series of sharp raps. “Housekeeping.”

Could the man not hear? Panfile asked himself.

*

ON THE THRESHOLD of unit number seven, Nate stood to the side and thumbed back the hammer of his .454. He intently watched the peephole.

To Youngberg, whom Nate had asked to come from the lobby with him, he chinned toward the office and mouthed, “Go.” Youngberg scrambled away. There was no need to talk further, he thought. No reason for a dramatic confrontation. He had no interest in Orlando Panfile or in why, how, or what could have happened. All he cared about was that his wife and daughter were inside. His plan driving south had been simple: to go to Sinaloa and pile up bodies until the cartel released Liv and Kestrel. Youngberg’s call had made it even simpler.

When the peephole darkened, Nate raised his revolver and fitted the entire muzzle around it with one motion and squeezed the trigger.

BOOM.

Nate squared himself in front of the door and kicked it open. The doorjamb gave way and the chain snapped, but the door would only open a foot because Panfile’s body blocked it. Nate put his shoulder to the door and shoved and the body slid along the cheap linoleum flooring leaving a swath of blood.

The wall opposite the doorway was spattered with blood and brain matter. Nate glanced down as he stepped over the body to make sure his job was complete. It was. Orlando Panfile had no head from the nose up.

Liv looked up from where she’d gone to ground behind the bed. Her grateful smile beamed. Kestrel was in her arms wailing from the sound of the shot.

“Don’t look,” Nate warned her. “And don’t let Kestrel see anything.”

He had an irrational fear that his baby would retain the image of the gore in the room for the rest of her life. In response, Liv draped Kestrel’s blanket over the baby’s head.

“Are you okay?” he asked Liv.

“We’re fine,” she replied. “He was a surprisingly kind man, actually. But we’re ready to go home.”

“Let’s go now.”

He stood to the side to let Liv and Kestrel step over the body of Orlando Panfile and pass through the door into the gritty wind.

“Don’t forget the car seat,” Liv called to him over her shoulder.