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When Todd’s call finally came, Brandon didn’t bother with the niceties.
“Did you find her?”
“Did,” Todd said. “Sorry it took so long, I had to jump through several extra hoops, but the phone seems to be stationary in the 5800 block of a street named Calle de Justicia. Do you know where that is?”
“No idea,” Brandon said, “but I’ll find it.”
“The trouble is,” Todd continued, “I have the block number but not the actual address.”
“Don’t worry,” Brandon said. “If my daughter’s there, I’ll find her. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”
Brandon was already heading for the garage when he thought better of it. Turning around, he sprinted back into the house. In the laundry room, he pawed through the collection of bathing suits that stayed there year round. It took a moment to find the tiny thonglike thing that passed for Lani’s bathing suit.
Diana was right. Going there by himself was dangerous. Going there without backup was even worse, but it turned out Brandon had just realized he did have backup—backup guaranteed to arrive on the scene at the same time he did.
Bozo was on his bed, eyes closed. “Hey, Bozo,” Brandon said. “Do you want to go to work?”
The dog’s transformation was instantaneous. One moment he was dozing on his posh heated bed. The next moment the dog was on his feet at full attention, looking quizzically at Brandon as if making sure he had heard right. When Brandon nodded, the dog sprinted for the garage and the Escalade with no sign of the aging animal’s game shoulder or crippling limp. Brandon Walker had said the magic go-to-work words, and Bozo was already locked, loaded, and back on the job.
As Brandon fumbled with the GPS, keying in the address, Bozo sat in the backseat, panting over Brandon’s shoulder. Once they were under way, Brandon hooked up his Bluetooth and dialed Dan.
“Someone has just located Lani’s phone. It’s currently pinging in the 5800 block of a street called Calle de Justicia.”
“Calle de Justicia?” Dan repeated. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s not far off I-10 at Craycroft.”
“Have you called the cops?”
“Not yet. I’m going there now to check it out visually. It may be the phone’s there and Lani isn’t. The GPS says it’ll take us twenty-eight minutes.”
“Who’s us?” Dan asked.
“I invited Bozo to come along for the ride—for backup.”
“Good call,” Dan said. “I’ve got Hulk with me, too. But don’t do anything stupid, Brandon. If you don’t call the cops, I will. If anything were to happen to you, Diana would kill me.”
His voice came to a strangled halt, and Brandon heard the silent words Dan Pardee couldn’t utter. “And so will Lani.”
“Really,” Dan resumed after a pause. “You can’t expect the two of us to go after him on our own.”
“I know all about Tombstone courage,” Brandon said, acknowledging Dan’s warning, “but if Henry is holding Lani hostage, do you want cars with sirens blaring and cops with guns ru
“I stopped at Three Points. If Henry’s headed to Mexico, Sasabe would be the nearest border crossing. If he’s headed north, he might have cut across to I-10 at Cortaro Road. Okay. I’ve got the Calle de Justicia address in my GPS. It’ll take me forty-five minutes at least. If you want it to be four to one, you’ll have to wait until Hulk and I get there.”
“Got it,” Brandon said. “And for God’s sake, do not speed. None of us can afford a speeding ticket right now, most especially Lani.”
A FURIOUS AVA MARCHED ACROSS the room to the front door, banging her walker on the tile. Henry had parked out on the driveway instead of in the garage? What in the world was the matter with the man? What was he thinking?
At the door she paused for a moment and got herself back under control. A steaming-mad Ava Richland would never pass for an ailing Jane Dobson. Only when she had herself fully in hand did she turn the key in the dead bolt.
Henry stood on her doorstep, holding up a gym bag and looking sheepish.
“Did you get the shipment?” she demanded.
He nodded.
“And Tim’s taken care of?”
He nodded again.
“Well, come in then,” she said, standing aside. “Why didn’t you use the garage?”
“I left the clicker in the other car,” he said.
Ava hadn’t turned on the porch light. She peered out the door. In the dim light, she caught sight of a strange car parked in the middle of her driveway. She sighed. She’d have to move it into the garage as soon as possible, but for right now, she supposed it was fine to leave it where it was. She didn’t want Henry to think she was overly anxious or that anything was amiss.
“That’s all to the good, then,” she said, trying to sound relieved. “Come have a seat. I know for a fact that you’ve had a tough couple of days.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Henry muttered.
Ava smiled her most reassuring smile. “I think this calls for a bit of a celebration, don’t you?” she asked. “If you’re hungry, I’ve got a tray of cold cuts out in the kitchen.”
“No,” he said. “I’m fine.”
“Well, at least have a drink with me. I’m drinking wine this evening, but let’s have a toast together. What do you say?”
Henry crossed the room ahead of her and took a seat at the end of the sofa that was farthest away from her chair and the side table with her wineglass on it. He set the gym bag down on the floor. Opening it, he dragged the peanut butter jar out of the bag and set it on the coffee table.
“It wasn’t easy, but here it is. What about Max?”
“Don’t worry about him,” Ava said. “Max José is no longer an issue.”
She studied Henry. She had met him on any number of occasions over the years. There was something slightly off about him tonight. By her count, he’d done away with four people in the last twenty-four hours, so maybe he had a right to be slightly jittery. After all, Ava herself hadn’t been ready to dance the light fandango after she took out Amos and Ke
She lifted her glass. “A toast,” she said, “to you and to a difficult job well done.”
With immense satisfaction she watched Henry pour a healthy shot of tequila into the glass and pick up a piece of lime. “A job well done,” he agreed.
Ava held the wineglass to her lips, but she didn’t swallow so much as a drop.
“Is that a new car out there?” she asked. “I don’t believe I’ve seen that one before.”
Her mention of the car was intended as nothing more than an icebreaker. She hoped that if Henry was upset, a little light conversation along with the booze might relieve some of the tension without his necessarily noticing how much liquor was going down the hatch. She was pleasantly surprised to learn that settling on the car as a topic must have been a good idea. Henry quickly poured another slug of tequila into his glass and downed it in a single gulp, following it with a long suck on a wedge of lime. She had worried earlier that even in tequila the barbiturates she’d added might be discernible. Now she could relax. If it tasted strange, Henry Rojas wasn’t a sophisticated enough imbiber to notice.
“I know I promised you a bonus,” Ava continued, reaching for the purse that was parked beside her chair. “I took the liberty of counting it out in advance. Forty thousand dollars should cover it, don’t you think?”
The tension she had noticed in Henry before seemed to evaporate. She didn’t know why, exactly. Maybe the tequila was already doing its job. He leaned back on the sofa, looking relaxed, and actually smiled at her. “That should just about do it,” he said.