The Chase (19 page)

Tigo’s phone went straight to voice mail, which meant he was in a meeting or a tight situation. “This is Kariss. I have some information about Delores Olvera. Could be a good lead. Call me when you can.”

She rubbed her arms to stop the chills in the ninety-five-plus-degree temperatures. Xavier’s persistence may have paid off. Her phone rang, and she snatched it from her purse.

“What do you have?” Tigo said, his voice formal as though agitated.

“We have a lead on Delores.” Kariss relayed the conversation with the nursing home director. “She was here yesterday.”

“I’ll get agents stationed there immediately. We need to see the nursing home’s records too. Good job, Agent Walker. You might have to change your profession.”

She laughed, releasing the stress of the day. “Xavier is the persistent one. I’m afraid the child he’s looking for doesn’t exist, but he refuses to give up.”

“Sad, but realistic. Have you gone through newspaper archives yet?”

“That’s on the schedule for tomorrow. If the search deadends, then there’s nothing else I can do. I’ll not be back to the office until afterward. Will you miss me?”

“Do you really want to know?” He chuckled. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I feel better when you’re here. Which reminds me, your presence on the southeast side of town is not smart.”

She glanced around at the peaceful surroundings. “Yes, sir. I admit I prefer to write about crimes than live them. The blood is pumping, and I’m having a hard time not thinking about being shot at.”

“ ‘Caution is the beginning of wisdom.’ “

Her father would have had another version of that from the Bible. “I’m taking Xavier back to his car, or rather Gilberto’s car, in a few minutes.”

“Call me when you’re heading home.”

How sweet. He did have a few admirable qualities about him. “Are you playing bodyguard?”

“Somebody needs to. You have a knack for being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Unfortunately, he was right.

A
fter leaving the nursing home, Kariss drove Xavier back to McDonald’s. They needed to talk about what they’d learned, and she needed to tell him about her experience at Catholic Charities. But the information learned at the nursing home buffered the discouraging news.

Teens still lingered outside the restaurant, and a few of them looked like they could be trouble. She pointed to a strip mall across the street. “We could talk there. I’ll drive through and get us something to drink.”

After grabbing two iced teas and maneuvering the traffic, she parked the car and kept the engine running for the air-conditioning.

“I’m ready to hear what you’ve found out,” Xavier said. “I didn’t ask when we left the nursing home, because you looked like you were thinking.” He laughed. “You are sometimes funny. So serious. Do you ever have fun?”

She hadn’t considered entertainment lately. Xavier’s comment was unusual considering his plight. “I have five brothers and sisters. When we get together, we all have a good time.”

“Gilberto and I have six brothers. Our poor mother said the rosary a lot. My father had a furniture store, and he insisted we have some education.”

“I’m glad you have family. Are your other brothers in Mexico?”

“Yes. Only Gilberto was wise enough to apply for entrance into the U.S. I’ve already completed my paperwork for the same. No matter how long it takes, this is where my little girl is buried.”

He shrugged. “If I have another child, I’m not so sure I’d want to take him or her back with me. I know many of my people got here without following the law, and Delores and I did the same. But I want to do things the right way.”

Kariss could only smile a response. She had no idea what it was like to live in Mexico or raise a family there. Media reported horrendous living conditions.

“
Dios
has the answers,” he whispered.

“By the look on your face, I see you have hope.” She’d once had that same faith. “I have a lead on Delores. The director at the nursing home said she has been paying her grandmother’s bill in cash. She also visits there frequently.”

He smiled and nodded. “At last we have something to go on. Have you contacted your friends at the FBI?”

“Tigo is sending agents to the nursing home now. The director will tell Delores about my questioning.”

“Once we’re finished talking, I’m going to return Gilberto’s car and walk to the nursing home. I’ll stay close enough to watch the parking lot.”

“No need to walk. I’ll drive you there. But you won’t have to stand vigil with the FBI sending agents there.”

“I can’t wait at Gilberto’s and do nothing. What if she arrives and has the child? It’s too big of a risk.”

“What will you do if you see her?”

He stiffened. “You shouldn’t ask. My first thought would be the child. If Delores was alone …”

Kariss nodded. The image of Benita’s autopsy picture flashed through her mind.

“Did you ask the director if she brings a child?”

“She didn’t even know Delores had children.”

He glanced out the car window, his face a mass of battle scars. “You had something else to tell me.”

“Catholic Charities can’t help us. Not enough information.”

He looked at her. A muscle twitched below his right eye.

“Remember my friend, the man who grew up near me in Mexico and lived in Pine Grove Apartments?”

“The man who’d been to jail?”

“Yes. He claims he can help me find Delores.”

“Xavier, we talked about him before. He could get you into trouble. Today gives us a better lead.”

“I’m a smart man, Kariss. I know some very bad men in Mexico. Cartels that do terrible things to people. I’ve lived among killers for a long time, and I know how to be safe.”

“Just be careful. We learned more about Delores today, and the FBI is moving in to apprehend her. What if your involvement with a criminal ruined your chance at citizenship?”

“Sometimes I think I could meet my own death easier than learning Delores killed this child too. I want something to live for.”

His last statement brought back her longing to see Xavier’s effort reap him happiness. “Would you give me your friend’s name so Agent Harris can check him out?”

“What would that prove? If he’s wanted, then I lose my source of information.”

“Just think about it. See if it makes sense to you. This man—” Someone banged on her car door. She whirled around. A Hispanic man pressed a gun to the window, a man she’d never seen before.

“Get out of the car,” he said in English.

She looked into his face, memorizing every hardened feature.

“I said, get out. Just you. Turn the car off.”

“What did he say?” The sound of Xavier’s voice shook Kariss to her senses.

“He said for me to get out of the car.” She reached for the door handle, fearful he’d pull the trigger and shoot both of them if she didn’t.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No.” The door opened. “His business is with me.”

Kariss never took her eyes off the shooter’s face. She exited the car into the heat, and the man stepped back. “What do you want?”

“I think you already know.”

He didn’t have gang markings, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t one of those who wanted her dead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He aimed his gun at her chest.

Think, Kariss. Do something.

A siren filled the air, snapping the shooter’s attention and giving her enough time to slam her palm into his wrist. He dropped the gun and it fired, creasing her left shoulder with what felt like a mosquito bite.

The man cursed, and the siren sounded closer. She kicked his gun, and he took off running. A police car raced into the shopping strip, sirens blaring, and stopped in front of her car. One police officer took off after the shooter on foot, while the driver hurried to her side. Kariss watched the shooter race across the street and jump into a car near the McDonald’s before speeding away.

Only when the first police officer backtracked to her side did she notice her ragged breathing and the stinging in her shoulder. Xavier had removed his shirt and dabbed at her shoulder. Odd, she hadn’t noticed him get out of the car.

“Ma’am, are you all right?” a young police officer said.

She blinked. He’d asked the same question three times. She reached to touch her shoulder and saw the blood on her fingers. “I might need a doctor.” Xavier handed her his shirt for her to press against her shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve called 9-1-1. An ambulance will be here shortly. Do you know who assaulted you?”

“I have no idea.” But she could guess.

“Can you describe him?”

“My mind’s hazy.” She’d give the shooter’s description to Tigo and him only.

“What about the gentleman beside you?”

“He doesn’t speak English.”

“My partner speaks Spanish.”

“I’m sure he didn’t see the man.”

The police officer studied her. Doubt crested his eyes, then he glanced at her Prius. “Looks like a carjacking. You were lucky. Quick thinking.”

“Yes … I suppose I am.”

“You must have taken a self-defense course.”

She nodded. “Never thought I’d use it.”

“It saved your life.”

Her shoulder throbbed. “How did you get here so quickly?”

“We’d just finished responding to a call at Fiesta’s when we saw the crime in progress.”

She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Did you say you called an ambulance?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“No thanks. I’ll drive myself.” Her last experience at a hospital nearly got her killed.

“That’s not advisable. You could be in shock.” He looked at Xavier. “Can your friend drive you?”

“No, thank you,” Kariss said again. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead, then realized the same hand had blood covering it.

“Is this gentleman a part of the problem?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Are you sure, ma’am? We’re here to protect you.”

“He is a good man. Innocent of what just happened. I assure you.”

“All right. I can’t let you drive, and you need medical attention.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“Is there anyone we can call?”

“Yes, sir. Special Agent Tigo Harris of the FBI.” She closed her eyes as emotion and pain threatened to overtake her. “I have his number.”

T
igo drove to the address where Kariss waited with an HPD officer. The police called the incident an attempted carjacking. But Tigo knew better. The Arroyos were not giving up. Getting rid of the Jaguar hadn’t made a difference. Could this be about Xavier? He’d have to think about that angle … Xavier, Delores, and Kariss.

He pulled into the strip mall where the crime had taken place and exited his truck. Crime-scene tape roped off the area around Kariss’s Prius while media vans hovered like vultures. Tigo’s attention flew to the dark-haired woman sitting on the curb beside the police car, holding a cloth to her shoulder. Blood stained the left side of her white blouse. An ambulance was parked there, too, but none of the paramedics were working on her. Odd, since she obviously needed medical attention. Xavier stood next to her.

Tigo wanted to find out what the two were doing at that location when she was supposed to be driving back home. He saw a reporter push his way past the crime-scene tape to Kariss, and Tigo hurried after him. She didn’t need the media obtaining a statement and flashing her name and face across Houston. Tigo recognized the reporter as the man who claimed to have history with her. Mike McDougal. What had she ever seen in him?

Tigo flashed his badge at those hovering over Kariss. “FBI, move aside, please. This is a crime scene, and you can be arrested for interfering with an investigation.”

McDougal refused to budge.

“Sir, I asked you once to step away.”

The reporter had a cocky look about him, and he still needed a haircut. “I’m talking to Miss Walker.”

“Looks to me like she needs medical attention, not an interview.”

The sight of blood staining her shirt made Tigo furious. This wasn’t Kariss’s fault. He’d allowed her to accompany him and Ryan to the hospital to question Jo-Jack, and now the Arroyos were after her. This jerk McDougal knew her name and would splash it across the front page.

“Sir, I’m Special Agent Tigo Harris.” He shoved his ID in McDougal’s face. “I’m asking you one last time to step aside.”

The reporter stepped back and aimed his camera.

“No pictures or I’ll have to confiscate your equipment.”

The police officer cleared his throat. “You heard the agent. Or would you like me to arrest you?”

McDougal backed away, then frowned at Tigo. “Hey, I saw you with Kariss at the hospital. What’s going on?”

“None of your business, and I suggest you leave her alone. I’ve had enough.” Tigo bit his tongue to keep from saying anything that could put Kariss in danger. Neither she nor the FBI was in the market for unneeded publicity.

“Looks like you have more than a professional interest in her,” McDougal said. “But I’ll honor the FBI.” McDougal took several steps back from the crime scene.

Tigo turned to the police officer. “Thanks for what you’ve done. What happened here?”

“An apparent carjacking. We spotted the crime taking place. Unfortunately the man responsible fled the scene. Miss Walker refused the paramedics’ help.”

Tigo stared into Kariss’s pale face. “Are you okay?”

“Just my shoulder.”

“Why not let these people patch you up?”

She shook her head. “I … I just want to get away from here.”

He understood. He wanted her safe and out of view too. “I’ll take you to get it looked at.”

“I don’t want a hospital. Someone could follow us.”

Fear had wrapped its clutches around her. “We’ll talk about it along the way.” He turned to Xavier and greeted him in Spanish. “Are you all right?”

Xavier nodded. “Miss Walker did a brave thing. She knocked the man’s gun from his hand.”

Kariss handed Tigo a bloodstained shirt.

“Use this until you have a bandage,” he said, handing it back. Later he’d find out more about Kariss’s heroism, after her shoulder was bandaged. His heart had taken a dip with her, and he wanted her free from pain. “Where can I take you?” he asked Xavier.

“I’ll drive myself. My brother’s house is not far from here. Miss Walker needs to see a doctor.”

“Great. I’m going to get Kariss medical attention immediately then.”

“I saw the man who assaulted her, but I’ve never seen him before.”

“I’d like to talk about the events leading up to the attempted carjacking. Possibly have you help us identify him. Can I reach you on Gilberto’s phone?”

“Yes, sir.” Xavier stiffened. “He didn’t want the car. He wanted Miss Walker.”

Just what Tigo suspected. “What were you and Miss Walker doing? She called me from the nursing home. Said she was heading back to her house.”

“We parked here to talk.”

Later he’d find out what the topic of conversation had been. “A unit has been dispatched to the nursing home. We’re close to finding Delores. Thanks to you.”

Xavier nodded. “Call me and I’ll tell you all I know. The police have already questioned me.”

Tigo turned to study Kariss’s face. She was pale, her eyes dilated. He’d pelt her with questions after a trip to the hospital — no matter how much she protested going. This time he wouldn’t leave her side. “Let’s go.”

She clutched her upper arm. Blood dripped through her fingers. “What about my car?”

“We’ll pick it up later.” He took her arm and linked it in his. They walked toward his truck.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t know who else to call.” Although she attempted to sound strong, the fear in her eyes told him otherwise.

“You were wise to call me, Kariss. This will be okay.”

“I was afraid you’d be angry.”

“Don’t think so.”

“Good. Now we both have battle scars.” She smiled, but her lips trembled.

He wanted to lecture her. Shake her. “We’ve been lucky. I think today was an experience you can use in your book.”

“I’m better at writing about painful situations than experiencing it.”

He helped her inside his truck. “How bad is it?”

“I could lie and say it’s nothing. But I’ll do my best not to bleed on your truck.”

“As if I care.” He started to close the door, but she held out her hand.

“Tigo, I memorized everything about his face. And he wasn’t the shooter from the hospital.”

“That’s my girl.” The words were spoken before he realized what he’d said. Closing the door, he hoped she hadn’t paid attention. Once inside, he started up the engine and lowered the AC.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “I’m miserably hot.”

“Sure it’s not your shoulder?”

“Hmm. Could be. I didn’t want to give the officer any information. Was I right?”

“You handled the situation just fine.” He cleared his throat. “Kariss, I told you hanging out with me was dangerous.”

“Too late. I’m already there. Can your doctor at the med clinic fix me up?”

“I’m taking you to the hospital. That gives us more time together.”

“So is this a date?”

He wished it was. Maybe when this was over. “Kariss, we’d kill each other.”

“We’re headed there now. Thanks for getting Mike out of the picture.”

“No problem.”

“We dated for about four months once. Definitely not one of my better choices. He told me he needed a thousand dollars to help his sister pay for his five-year-old niece’s medical expenses. She had juvenile diabetes and was getting progressively worse, or so Mike said. I gave him the money, then he bragged to a couple of other reporters about betting the money at the races. No sister and no niece.”

“I’m sorry.” One more reason why Tigo didn’t like the guy.

“Just wanted you to know.”

He glanced her way. “Lean back and close your eyes. I want you to think one more time about taking a vacation. Give us time to bring these guys in. You could relax and write without looking over your shoulder.”

“No thanks. I’ll be more careful.”

For the first time, he was glad she had a gun, even if it was at her condo. She’d look real good taking a gun class on Saturday with her injured shoulder. A real war machine. “I hear you have a few mean moves.”

Her eyes were closed. “Self-defense. One of my characters had to learn it, and the best way to write about it is to do it myself.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Kariss wanted to cry. Her shoulder hurt, and she didn’t want anyone touching it. But what choice did she have? How did Tigo endure this on a regular basis? After receiving medical care, including five stitches, Tigo drove her to the office. She wanted to take pain meds and go to bed, but that would come after she helped him ID the shooter. After all, earlier he’d called her an agent.

She learned the man who had accosted her was in the system.

“We have his fingerprints on the gun,” Tigo said. “He won’t be on the streets for long.”

What about Cheeky and the others the FBI were seeking?
she wondered. She’d have that conversation when she felt better.

“I’m taking you home.” His announcement came like a command.

“I’m concerned about my car. I’m afraid if it’s left overnight in that area, it’ll be gone.”

“Okay. I’ll send a couple of agents after your car,” Tigo said. “We’ll park it here.”

“How will I get to the office in the morning?”

Tigo ran his fingers through his hair. “I saw the type and dosage of your pain meds. You’ll sleep till noon tomorrow. But call me when you wake up so I know you’re okay.”

How sweet. “I’m wondering if I should go to the media with this. You know, make a statement about someone being after me because that person thought I’d seen a crime.”

“Not a good idea. You’d be giving your name and background info. Perfect for an assassin.”

She cringed, but Tigo was right. “I hate being helpless.”

“Let us handle the Arroyos. You came here to get a story about Cherished Doe. Go home. Get some rest, and work on that next bestseller.” His words were sincere, which was exactly what she needed.

After insisting she take a couple of pain meds, Tigo drove her home. They stopped at the security gate of her complex, and she gave him her code to enter into the keypad.

“Write down those numbers,” she said. “Never thought I’d be doing this, but I want you to have them. Just in case.”

He pulled out his ever-present notepad and jotted down the numbers. “What about your blood type and social security number?”

“Those are private.” Oh, her bed sounded good. The meds were doing the trick. “Hey, what did you say to Mike McDougal?”

“Told him you and I were seeing each other and not to mess with the FBI.”

“You didn’t.”

He chuckled. “I
implied
the situation.”

“Better hope today doesn’t make his blog.”

He groaned with another realization that he’d let his feelings for her affect his professionalism. “I agree.” He parked his truck in the visitor area. “Can I have your keys?”

“I’m not an invalid. I can make it inside my condo.”

“I have a feeling I might need to carry you.”

“I’m not that bad.” She forced her eyes to stay open and handed him her purse. “Side pocket. I could use the help. You know the drill — for research.”