Fields of Wrath (Luis Chavez Book 1) (21 page)

XXV

On the drive back to the Blocks, Luis formulated his plan. He pictured the apartment in his head, going over it inch by inch. The designers had done their job well. There was no way through the burglar bars, and the only window without them was the small frosted-glass one above the toilet in the bathroom. But this didn’t help, as not only had it been installed backwards, to be locked from the outside like the front doors, it was too small to wriggle through.

The only way out was the way they came in.

At first Luis had thought even that was impossible. When he’d been brought in the night before, he’d glimpsed a magnetic sensor for a burglar alarm screwed into the door frame and a second in the door itself. But when he checked it out a second time that morning, he saw no sign that the rest of the system had been installed. He couldn’t decide if this was an oversight or if the builders believed the sensor plates were deterrent enough.

Besides, a real alarm would draw attention. It couldn’t connect to any legitimate alarm company that might call the cops. But to get through the door itself, he’d have to crack the keyed doorknob with a makeshift skeleton key, then cut through the plywood panel to pull the sliding bolt and lower the kick-proof jamb. Not impossible, just dangerously time consuming.

Most everyone was in bed by nine. To a man they were exhausted, some still sleeping off the journey from Mexico. Luis had to force himself to stay awake for at least another hour before setting to work. He’d said nothing of his plans to anyone but received a few querulous looks when he moved his sleeping place from the living room to the cold kitchen floor.

At ten, some of the men were still stirring, so Luis waited another hour. He recited the Bible to himself as he waited for just the right moment to begin work on the door.

Joshua 10:6. The Gibeonites then sent word to Joshua in the camp at Gilgal: “Do not abandon your servants. Come up to us quickly and save us! Help us, . . .”

Joshua 10:7. So Joshua marched up from Gilgal with his entire army, including all the best fighting men.

Joshua 10:8. The Lord said to Joshua, “Do not be afraid of them; I have given them into your hand. Not one of them will be able to withstand you.”

At half past eleven he made his move. He made quick work of the keyed lock with a skeleton key fashioned from wire he’d pulled from a warehouse freezer fan. Using a stem cutter he’d smuggled in from the fields and broken until it resembled a crude box cutter, he stabbed into the door where he estimated the bolt base to be on the other side.

Though the four men sleeping a few feet from where Luis worked hadn’t stirred as he unlocked the doorknob, he doubted he’d be as lucky when he began sawing into the wood. He said a prayer, pulled back the cutter, and sawed.

It was easier than he’d envisioned, the wood coming apart like wood shavings as he cut. He could be out in minutes.

“Wha . . . what’re you doing?”

It was Rodolfo. Luis was already formulating his response when he saw that everyone in the room was awake.

“What are you doing?” Rodolfo asked, sterner now.

Luis had to say something. As he opened his mouth, another voice cut through the darkness.

“He’s doing as God asked him,” said the old man, now standing in the bedroom doorway. “And we are going back to sleep, having not seen nor heard anything. Understood?”

No one said anything, for or against. Finally, Rodolfo lowered himself back onto his bedroll and closed his eyes. The others followed suit. The old man eyed Luis as if reconsidering his words. Then he disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door.

Luis resumed his work. This time he cut all the way through the door so he could noiselessly lower the jamb to the ground.

Cool night air rushed in around him as he turned the knob and stepped into the night. He closed it behind him and started running.

Luis had never seen the heavens like this. The longer he looked, the more stars he saw, layers revealing layers beyond and layers beyond that. It was a staggering sight, one he wished he could enjoy. After a day of anger it brought him a modicum of peace.

Knowing overseers might be on the road, he stayed close to the foothills. He had no idea how well they guarded the Blocks at night, but as there had been no reaction to the clatter of the lock, security obviously wasn’t as tight as he’d imagined. Still, no need to take chances.

Maria.

He couldn’t chase her from his mind. He wanted to believe she was alive and tried to convince himself of this. The car meant nothing. That voice in his head that told him the smoke on the horizon was from the Higuera farm was mistaken. He wanted badly to believe.

He estimated he’d been gone from the Blocks for almost forty-five minutes, doing his best to stay in the shadows while following the path he took to the fields each day. When he didn’t come upon the warehouses immediately, he worried he was off target.

Even on foot it shouldn’t have taken this long.

The stars and the outlines of the mountains to the east were his only guides. He made his best guess and headed in a new direction. When he finally reached one of the fences, he rejoiced and crossed it at a post. The fields couldn’t be far now.

Five minutes later he tripped on a cabbage. He’d entered the fields without realizing it. He wondered how close he was to the paved roads.

As if on cue, a pair of headlights appeared in the distance. Luis dove to the ground, flattening himself on the soil between the rows of fledgling cabbage. He waited for the vehicle to turn off, but it continued straight toward him.

He considered hurrying farther into the fields, putting some distance between him and the nearing vehicle, but that was just inviting the headlights to pick up his movement. He was trapped.

He froze, stiff as a corpse. The cabbages, a fall crop, weren’t to be harvested for another three months. The plants were barely three inches high. Even prone he was visible.

Lord, let them look the other way.

He pushed his face into the dirt but didn’t dare move any other part of his body. If he could have eaten the dirt, he would have. The light was already washing over the cabbage fields. It would be seconds before the pool reached him. He shut his eyes, but the white penetrated his eyelids as if they were clear glass. The sound grew louder.

Luis’s thoughts turned to the last moments of his brother’s life. Nicolas had been on his way home from seeing Osorio at Sacred Heart Church. He’d gone up the hill on Coronado Street and was crossing to Montana when the two bullets pierced his chest. No one knew if he’d seen the two men sitting in the car he’d just walked past or the one who emerged from the darkness on the other side of the street with the pistol.

The man behind the steering wheel died at the scene. The one in the passenger seat died on the way to Hollywood Presbyterian. The shooter was caught three blocks from the scene and went away for life despite having been a minor when he pulled the trigger. He was killed in prison two years later.

Nicolas had died instantly.

Luis still remembered the day Nicolas said he should stop hanging out with Oscar and his crew. He’d laughed in his face and threatened to beat him to a pulp.

Nicolas, forgive me.

The truck’s engine was so loud that Luis had to scream the prayer for absolution in his mind. If this was to be his final thought, so be it. He held on to the image of his brother so tight that he almost cried out.

The sound and the light receded. The truck had never slowed or wavered from its path. Luis waited a moment longer, then resumed his march.

The warehouses glowed in the distance like an earthbound moon. There were a few industrial pole lights, as well as several task lights, rising over their generators to illuminate every corner of the complex, whether anyone was working there or not.

As he neared, he saw a handful of workers loading flats onto tractor-trailers. Still, he’d need an excuse for his presence if questioned.

I fell asleep and everybody was gone. I missed my ride back.

He knew it wouldn’t fly if they spoke to any of the drivers, but it was better than nothing.

He kept his head down, his hands in his pockets, and his gait even. When he looked up, his still-adjusting eyes saw everything haloed in oranges and yellows. He didn’t even realize he’d passed a group of workers until he’d walked by. He didn’t risk a look back.

Every garage and door he passed was locked with a heavy padlock, the service doors with key locks. He had his mangled skeleton key but feared he’d be noticed. He got lucky. A service door was unlocked. He strode in like this had been his destination the whole time.

The lights were off inside, the large space lit only by the red glow of emergency exit signs. The layout was the same as that of the warehouse he’d been in earlier that day. There were four walk-in refrigerators, but they were all off in this building. He moved carefully through the center of the warehouse, larger objects appearing in silhouette. Pallet jacks and storage bins revealed themselves as his eyes adjusted to the shadows, but no sign of Maria’s car.

What he did find was a pry bar.

He knew it was risky, but he would only get one shot at this. Lowering the bar to his side, he stepped out of the empty warehouse and walked back to the first locked garage door in the row. He stabbed one end of the pry bar between the shackle and body of the padlock, glanced around, then threw his weight against the other end.

It didn’t budge. He changed the angle, manipulating the lock until it was horizontal to the ground. Then he stomped on it. This time the shackle popped right off. He set the pry bar aside and slid back the bolt. The garage door threw up a massive metallic clatter as he lifted it, so Luis only raised it a foot and rolled under.

Though the refrigerators were on in this one, the warehouse was as empty as the first. Luis checked every corner as thoroughly as he could in the dark, then slipped back out. He popped the locks on three more garage doors before hitting pay dirt.

This warehouse was used as storage. Stacks of wooden pallets rose to the ceiling alongside bolts of transparent pallet wrap. Forklifts were plugged in and charging overnight. But Luis’s eyes had picked out the size and shape of the car and trailer immediately. The truck that had towed it there was nowhere to be seen.

Luis climbed onto the trailer and tugged at the ropes holding the tarps in place. They didn’t budge. He tried tearing the tarp from around the base of the car, but it held fast.

As he made his way around the car, looking for any spot where the tarp might have met a sharp edge, his foot crunched down on something small and hard. It crumbled under his shoe. He bent and picked a pebble of safety glass out of the tread.

He ran his fingers along the driver-side windows. Both were solid. He checked the back windshield, then moved to the front. His fingers found something sharp. Carefully, he traced the edges of a baseball-sized hole in the windshield, finding the tarp thinner from wearing against the broken glass. He tried to tear it with his fingers. When that didn’t work, he leaned all the way over and tore into it with his teeth. When he worked open a large enough gap, he dug his fingers in and pulled it apart. The material unzipped down to the hood and up to the roof, stopped only by the ropes.

He didn’t need more.

Though Maria’s body wasn’t inside, it was clear she’d spent the last moments of her life there. Even in the dim light he could see that the driver’s seat was bent backwards at a terrible angle and the headrest was missing. The steering wheel looked like it had been kicked off its column. The dashboard was shattered, and someone had torn the cover off the center console.

With their fingernails,
Luis realized.

There was no mistaking the moment of great violence that had happened here. Luis said a prayer for Maria even as he watched her last terrifying moments in his mind’s eye. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was for dragging her into this. That he would bring her killers to justice. That her death wouldn’t be in vain any more than her brother’s had been.

But his words felt empty. Really, what could he promise that didn’t sound like a lie?

He pushed himself off the car and contemplated his next move. He’d take the information back to Michael Story, but what if the car was gone when he got back? Would Story just tell him again how sorry he was but his hands were tied?

Damned to know the truth but unable to prove it: the fate of priests.

Something moved. Luis froze. The warehouse lights came on and the copper-eyed man who’d assaulted him beside the tractor-trailer his first night at the Blocks stepped forward.

“My God, look at you, Father,” the man snarled. “What is it the Bible says? ‘The day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night’? What would your God think about you breaking in like this?”

“Who do you think led me here?” Luis shot back.

“Tough words for a dead man,” the overseer said, producing a rubber police baton. “And if you think I have any qualms about killing a priest, don’t worry. Given the number of people I’ve killed up to this point, I doubt I could be any deeper in the Lord’s black books than I already am.”