Sworn to Protect (20 page)

Chapter 37

In a dark time, the eye begins to see.

Theodore Roethke

Alex watched his mom poke carrots and celery and then an apple into a juicer. The machine buzzed like a chain saw. If she thought he was going to drink that muddy mess, she was wrong. So much for allowing her to drop him off at the hospital and leave her with idle time to shop.

“You’ll love this,” she called from the kitchen. “And it’s so good for you.”

“Wonderful, Mom.”

“Do I denote sarcasm?”

“Absolutely. I’m a doctor, and I know all about proper nutrition. But I’m a firm believer that food is supposed to taste good.”

“Which is why I purchased you this magnificent juicer.”

Before he could think of another remark, his cell phone rang. Danika. Did he dare hope she wanted to talk to him?

“Hi, Alex. How are you feeling?”

“Actually, pretty good. Working helps.”

“Is your mother spoiling you?”

When he considered the disgusting brew in the juicer,
spoiled
rang true. “Guess you could say that.” He wanted to talk to her about Cira and his suspicions about Toby’s murderer, but not over the phone. “Have you made a decision about Tiana and my mother teaming up?”

“I have. Is Karen around?”

“She is. Hold on; I have to grab my crutches and take her the phone.” He hesitated. “It’s been good talking to you.”

She laughed softly as though she detected his nervousness. “Thank you.”

Alex hobbled into the kitchen and handed his mother the phone.

“Must be Danika,” she mouthed and smiled—that mom thing that a grown man never outgrew.

Mom took the phone and walked outside. He glanced at the counter where she’d poured her health drink into a glass. The nondescript, rather greenish, thick mess reminded him of gummy bears after a whirl in the food processor. Or the mess he’d made of his and Danika’s relationship.

Oh, Danika, you’ve tormented my heart. I can’t undo the damage, and I can’t seem to shake what I feel.

His thoughts turned to a few of his patients. With his limited mobility and the time taken off for his leg to heal, he had to rely on other trusted doctors to help him. Those arrangements bothered him. His patients deserved their own doctor, and he was finished with making excuses for himself.

* * *

Danika chatted to Karen about McAllen and listened to how the woman enjoyed the city. She’d shopped and taken note of all the new construction since she’d last visited Alex three years prior. All the while Danika’s pulse raced with what she was about to do. She barely knew this woman, and in less than thirty-six hours, she’d have Danika’s most precious treasure. Granted, Sandra would be with Tiana, but a nanny was not a mommy.

“I’ve made a decision,” Danika said. “If you’re still willing to keep my daughter for a little while, I . . . I’ll have her ready on Wednesday morning.”

“Oh, honey, I know this has been a tough few days while you contemplated handing over your Tiana to a stranger.”

The angst was only beginning. “A lot of prayers and tears have gone into this, but it’s the best solution. I’ll have my attorney draw up the papers in the morning giving you temporary guardianship. I’ll bring them to you in the afternoon.”

“Does she know yet?”

“I’m telling her in a little bit. But I need your word—and Alex’s—that no one learns about this. I’ll let Chief Jimenez know.”

“I promise. Alex had mentioned the same thing. Would you like for me to stop by later?”

Relief helped ease the lump in Danika’s throat. “Yes. Very much.”

“Is about an hour and a half okay?”

Karen wanted to help keep Tiana safe, and now Danika must continue—or she’d fall apart. “I want to say how very much I appreciate what you’re doing.”

“Children have to be protected. It’s our role as women to nurture. It’s how God wired us.”

Danika whisked away the tears. “You are an angel.”

“Tell that to Alex.”

She laughed. “As long as he’s not at the hospital, Tiana would like to see him.”

“I’ll have him tag along.”

She disconnected the call. The insufferable task before her swirled with the feeling of loss. But she had no choice. Let whoever despised her come. Tiana would be safe, and Danika was not afraid to fight.

* * *

Sandra had overheard enough of Danika and Karen Price’s conversation to confirm that she would be accompanying Tiana to San Antonio. Relief flooded her, but with it came a mixture of fear and guilt for all she knew and kept secret. The most important thing was Tiana, and she would be safe. The little girl had been Sandra’s baby, the child she’d never had. Might never have. She breathed a prayer of thanks, more for Tiana than for herself. But she’d taken another step deeper in betraying Danika.

Danika walked into the kitchen. Her listless eyes gave away the burden shadowing her soul. “If you would consider going to San Antonio with Tiana and Karen Price, I will continue to pay Lucy for your services as though you were here.”

The official request was like manna from heaven, a solution she’d only dreamed about. “Of course I’ll go.”

“Thank you so much. If you are with Tiana, I know she’ll be happy.”

“She’ll miss her mother, but I’ll do my best.”

“I have another favor,” Danika said. “Please don’t tell anyone where you’re going. I have no idea who is after me.”

Not even a consideration on Sandra’s part. “I understand.”

“The only people in McAllen who will know your and Tiana’s whereabouts are Alex and the station’s chief.”

Sandra relaxed slightly. She’d be safe with her
niña preciosa
—precious little girl. Neither Lucy nor Jose would find them in San Antonio. “I know this will be very hard for you.”

“It’s hard already. I’m not sure I can risk driving to San Antonio to see you.”

“I think you’re right.”

Danika nodded, and for a moment Sandra feared both of them might cry. Guilt continued to assault her. She could put an end to Danika’s misery by confessing the truth about Lucy and the role the woman may have played in Toby’s murder. Lucy had no conscience and was capable of anything.

Sandra still couldn’t believe Lucy had ordered the deaths of her parents as though they were nothing. But she’d seen the pictures, and she knew how far Lucy had gone before. Sandra had slept fitfully last night with the memory of her parents haunting her. In one dream, her father accused her of lighting a match to their home. In essence, she had. The grief felt raw, as though her heart had been severed from her body. She hated Lucy for condemning her parents to such a merciless death. The woman should pay, but whom would Sandra tell? Going to the authorities meant facing deportation. She must bear the tragedy alone, mask her feelings so Danika wouldn’t question her. Someday Lucy would pay for those she’d beaten and killed.

What am I to do?
The idea of searching through Danika’s backpack for sensor locations had made her feel dirty, the same low caliber as Lucy. But now she didn’t have to. She wouldn’t be anywhere near McAllen.

For a moment, terror seemed to swallow her up. Sandra realized she’d be spending the entire time in San Antonio looking over her shoulder. Where could she find peace and safety?

Chapter 38

Walk softly and carry a big faith.

Anonymous

Alex grabbed his crutches from the bed of his truck and swung his way up Danika’s driveway behind Mom. He muffled a groan, determined to portray the cowboy role. But with each step came a needlelike sensation that pierced his leg. This might officially end his rodeo days.

Gazing at the flowers and neatly kept yard that belonged to Danika Morales, he recalled another time he’d been there. The evening had ended like a nightmare: lost his potential girlfriend and gained two bullets in his leg. Both had added some character.

What a surprise to learn she’d invited him this evening—for Tiana’s sake, of course. That made little sense since she’d been concerned about Tiana forming an attachment to him and then the relationship going sour. Danika didn’t present herself as a woman who made rash decisions or tossed out invitations at a whim. He’d rather believe Danika was taking the first step toward mending their differences. Or she might have found a soft spot in her heart to forgive him, since he’d arranged a safe place for her daughter and Sandra. His musings sounded selfish and full of self-pity, and they were. If only they could take sandpaper to the past and start all over.

“Don’t you two get into an argument,” Mom said when they reached the door.

Alex bit his tongue. He loved his mother, but his patience had become a stretched rubber band. “This is an emotional time for her, and I’m not about to make things unpleasant.”

Sandra answered the door, and as usual she avoided eye contact with him. He had weighed whether or not to tell Mom about Sandra’s undocumented status, but he couldn’t very well tell her and not Danika. The secrets needed to stop. He’d never been a man of pretense, but lately he considered carrying a pocket recorder so he’d remember what he’d told whom. No better time than the present to rectify his mistakes.

Once he entered the Morales home, Tiana ran to him. He hugged her, but he couldn’t bend to her level.

“Is your leg better?”

At least she didn’t ask him how he’d hurt it. “Yes, thank you.”

“What happened?”

Oops.
“I had surgery.”

Alex saw Danika had a game in her hand. He smiled at her, and she returned the expression. That was headway.

“Would you like to join us?” Danika lifted the box to show it was Candy Land.

Tempting, very tempting. “I would, but first I’d like to talk to Sandra.”

The woman’s round face paled, and he noted the dark circles under her eyes. “I have a pie in the oven.”

“Five minutes.” He did his best to convey friendship without frightening her. Urging Sandra to tell the truth had to be presented as a way of her showing love for Danika and Tiana and not an opportunity for the woman to do something irrational—like run off, leaving Danika wondering what happened.

In glum resignation, Sandra opened the front door. He followed her outside and closed it behind him.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said barely above a whisper.

“No reason to be. I’m not the enemy. I simply want to look out for the welfare of Danika and Tiana.”

“You’re not Tiana’s father. Why should you care?” Hostility dripped from Sandra’s words. “Danika doesn’t even like you.”

Alex sighed. Although his past actions deserved some animosity, he’d protected this woman from deportation. “Unless your situation has changed in the past two years, you’re keeping vital information from Danika.”

She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Are you planning to tell her?”

“Not tonight.”

“So this is a threat? What do you want me to do, Dr. Price, persuade her to give you another chance?”

Anger took root, but he refused to let it surface. This woman lived in fear of being discovered. “My point in this conversation is that Danika has enough problems right now without learning from someone else that an undocumented worker lives under her roof. So I’m urging you to tell her before you leave for San Antonio.”

“You think about this, Dr. Alex: I make it possible for Danika to work. I love Tiana and take care of her as if she were my own daughter. No one wins if I tell her the truth. Unless you think you’ll look honorable.”

“Do you think the Border Patrol would keep an agent who houses someone who is undocumented? Danika’s a smart woman. I don’t care how you managed to falsify papers in order to work for a legitimate business. It doesn’t really matter. Danika cares for you, and I can see you care for her and Tiana. But one day she
will
learn the truth, and it had better be before Wednesday morning.”

Sandra moistened her lips. “I thought you had sympathy for hardworking people who’d do anything for a better life.”

“I haven’t changed.”

“Yes, you have. Because of how you feel about Danika, you no longer want to help us.”

“Don’t give me your helpless and defenseless attitude. You knew what you were doing when you crossed the border illegally. You took a chance, and you’re still taking it. My help has always been to administer medical aid. Nothing more.”

“But you were Toby’s friend.”

He had no intention of explaining his observations about the U.S. immigration policy. “Not all of our views were the same. In my opinion, it’s Mexico’s fault for encouraging illegal entry. They distribute brochures showing how and where to cross the border. They even tell you what to bring. The money the undocumented immigrants send back to Mexico aids their economy—substantially.”

“You’re an American. Fix it.”

“Sandra, sarcasm is not going to remedy the situation.” Alex had one more question. What did he have to lose? “Do you know who killed Toby? Because I think you do. I think the woman who fronted your money is responsible.”

“I don’t know who could have done such evil.” Sandra glanced at her watch. “My pie is done.”

Just as he had thought. “Again, I’m not the enemy. I’m simply warning you that working for a Border Patrol agent when you have a fake ID is playing with fire. You need to come clean with her.”

“And be deported? I need this job. I’m not hurting anyone. I pay my taxes like any good American.”

“Wednesday morning, Sandra. It’s either you or me.”

Sandra whirled around and entered the house without another word, and he followed her inside. He hadn’t accomplished a thing. Or had he? He’d heard the arguments before, and he did have sympathy for the immigrants who simply wanted to work.

His cell phone rang, alerting him to a call from the hospital. He snatched it up, welcoming a reprieve.

“Dr. Price, one of your patients, Jimmy Padilla, has a fever of 104 and has had what looks to be a febrile seizure.”

Cira’s son, the assumed name given to the boy to ease his mother’s fears. “Go ahead and administer an acetaminophen suppository, 120 milligrams stat. I’m on my way. If he seizes again, give him ten milligrams of diazepam gel rectally.” Alex could only imagine Cira’s panic. Seizures were scary but usually benign. His history with the woman had shown her to be strong but fearful of strangers. He’d treated her when someone had beaten and raped her. He’d been the one to tell her she was pregnant from the rape, and he’d delivered her son into this world. Alex’s stake in Cira’s and her son’s lives took priority over any personal problems.

“Please tell the mother that I’ll be right there.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket and glanced about the room. Mom, Danika, and Tiana were sitting on the floor. “Hey, ladies, I’m sorry. You’ll have to continue your game without me. I have an emergency at the hospital.”

“Would you like for me to take you?” Mom offered. “Oh, of course I need to take you.”

“I can do it,” Danika said—but not with much enthusiasm.

“Both of you have business here, and I can drive just as well with my left foot as my right. I’ll call when I leave the hospital.” Without giving either woman an opportunity to oppose his plans, he exited the house. Dumb move. He should have asked one of them to drive him.

Once at the hospital, he’d run some tests to see why Mickey’s fever had spiked. Maybe a urinary tract infection. Perhaps an infection around an IV line. He’d order a urine culture, change the IV site, culture the needle that was removed, and change the antibiotic.

Someday soon he and Danika would have to talk. No more secrets on his part. For now he’d keep his silence about Sandra and hope the woman confessed the truth—soon.

* * *

“There’s no room for God to work in a family where the husband insists upon control.”

Father Cornell’s words repeated in Jacob’s mind and would not let him go. He continued to sand the tabletop without protecting his nose and mouth. Let the sawdust settle in his lungs; he didn’t care. The counseling session earlier in the day had left him confused, frustrated.

“The Bible says a man is the head of the household.” Jacob had sensed his blood pressure escalating.

“Scripture also says a man is to love his wife as Christ loved the church.” Father Cornell spoke as if he had a clue about what it was like to live with a woman who had turned his children against him and caused his daughter to run away.

“I’d give my life for my family. Haven’t I worked hard all these years to provide for them?”

“Providing and loving are two different topics.”

“Have you been talking to Barbara?”

“No. She has sought the counsel of another priest.”

Jacob hated the man’s calmness while his own pulse increased. “Our differences can never be resolved. She’s betrayed me and not allowed me to lead my family.”

“How do you lead, Jacob?”

“The way Scripture says. I know what is best for them, and I tell them. I expect them to obey.”

“Is this the way you’ve always led your family or just since Toby’s death?”

Jacob leaned forward, and his throat seemed to squeeze shut. “My brother died because the Border Patrol failed to stop those who enter our country illegally. I vowed then to protect my family at all costs. Criminals seek out Border Patrol families and prey on them like rabid animals.”

Father Cornell nodded. “I know you love your family. I know you feel responsible for Toby’s death. I also think if you’d give yourself a moment to face the truth, you’d realize you blame yourself for Nadine’s disappearance. You cannot shield the world or even your family from evil. It’s there. It can’t be avoided. We all do our best to keep our loved ones safe, but those people cannot be smothered, because then they begin to despise us. We lead by example in love—and prayer.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jacob fought the hot tears threatening to spill. “I do all those things.”

“There’s no room for God to work in a family where the husband insists upon control.”

Five hours later, Jacob still ached with those words. And why did he feel such physical agony? Shouldn’t he instead feel the winds of anger toward the priest who didn’t even have a family? Instead he wanted to run and hide, pretend the last two years didn’t exist. Perhaps he could empathize with Nadine after all. It had been four and a half weeks since he’d seen his baby girl. The authorities claimed they were still looking, but Jacob believed otherwise. They’d written his daughter off like a lost puppy until they found her hiding or her decomposed body.

He closed his eyes and waited for the weight bearing on his chest to subside.