KILLER DATE (SCANDALS) (15 page)

Through the windshield we could see a
large two-story ranch house with porches wrapping around it on all sides.  It was perched on the top of the hill that provided 360 degree views that were both scenic and practical for his line of work.  As we pulled to a stop, we also noticed three large horse barns, an Olympic-sized swimming pool complete with hot tub and a spacious bath house off to one side.  An open pavilion with a half-dozen picnic tables provided a break between acres of vineyards and the pool.  Sprawling live oak trees shaded the yard and kept the Texas heat off the porches. It was a beautiful spread, rivaling the most elaborate ranches in the state and looking completely normal. 

Except that in the distance, I could see the sun reflecting off the razor-wire fence that surrounded this compound, reminding me that it was more o
f a prison than a paradise.

“That
ugly green block building over there…barracks,” Nick said, continuing his role as unofficial tour guide indicated an area on the far side of the house.  Clearly this was not the first time he’d been here. 

“
Nice!  Right next to the rifle range,” Christopher pointed out wryly.

“Ricardo’s version of neighborhood watch,” I
whispered to Jenny.

“Is that a machine gun?”
she whispered.

I looked where she indicated and saw what did, indeed, appear to be an elevated guard tower with a long, black metal barrel sticking out. 
I’d never actually seen a machine gun in real life, but didn’t want to damage what little street cred I had.  “Probably.”

The man in the jeep pointed to
where he expected Christopher to park.  His finger stayed aimed and his eyes locked on Christopher until our car was stopped on the exact spot and the motor was shut off.

“Control freak!”  Christopher observed as he started to open his door.

Nick laughed.  “This is nothing.”

Pedro
rushed over to the driver’s door and slammed it closed.  He held his palm up and yelled, “No!”

“Now what?”

Nick pointed to four men with shoulder holsters who stepped off the porch.  “No one’s carrying, are you?”

Jenny and
I quickly shook our heads.

Nick looked at Christopher.  “Roger’s rule number one?”

“Number two, I think.  Never carry, and they can’t shoot you with your own gun.”

Two additional men dressed in military uniforms with side arms appeared from
behind the house.  One carried a large mirror at the end of the pole and the second kept a short leash on an oversize German shepherd.  Together they slowly walked the perimeter of the car.

“Really risk adverse
, aren’t they?” I commented.

“They don’t like surprises,” Nick reminded us.
 

One security guard tapped on the hood and the other on the
hatchback.  Christopher popped the locks open.  The car darkened with the back and hood raised, and the search occurred without any discussion.  We could hear them rummaging around in the back, lifting the carpet and even checking under the spare, but none of us dared look around.  Finally, the back door and hood were slammed closed.

Just as s
uddenly, all four doors opened and the men motioned for us to get out and hold our hands up so they could frisk us for weapons.  Jenny met my eyes over the top of the car as a man stepped up to her.  I saw her flinch and bite her lip as his rough hands slid over her breasts, lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary.  I felt another man’s hands pat me down, including my crotch.  She and I shared the moment of helpless indignity, but at least it was over quickly.

“Follow us
please,” the one man ordered in a thick Spanish accent.  Nick and Christopher walked ahead of Jenny and me as we covered the fifty feet of flagstone path to the pavilion.  Classical music was playing on the speakers.  I counted at least ten armed guards surrounding the pavilion and wearing camouflage that blended in almost invisibly with the vineyard.  They were equipped with automatic rifles and side arms.

“
That’s
Bolero
.  I love that song,” I whispered to Jenny and nervously began to hum along with the music.

Jenny glanced up at me
curiously.  “You know Ravel?”

“D
o you think I’m a total goof?” I asked, trying not to let my feelings be bruised by her complete lack of respect.

“My parents took us to Vegas years ago, and I don’t remember hearing any classical music, just a lot of piped-in
Muzak and live rock or blues singers.”

“Then you must not have seen the dancing water
s show at the Bellagio.”

Before I could explain, a
man in a neatly tailored summer-weight suit, gestured toward four empty chairs on the back side of the table.  Facing those chairs was a large fan-back chair with colorful cushions, which was obviously, Ricardo’s Texas throne.

We
sat as instructed, Nick, Christopher, me and finally Jenny, facing the large mansion.  The pavilion’s roof obstructed our view of the upper levels of the house.  Our backs were to the vineyards that were about fifty yards from the pavilion.  It was unlikely that anyone would be able to sneak up behind us, but I couldn’t get my mind off the idea of crazy ants crawling up my legs and rattlesnakes slithering under our chairs.  Even the slightest movement on the ground caught my attention. 

A young
man in a white shirt, black vest and black pants approached us, carrying a tray of glasses and a pitcher.  He poured ice water into each glass and placed one in front of each of us, along with three glasses for our hosts, then smiled and retreated.

“
They probably don’t get a lot of visitors here, do they?” I kidded.

“
Ricardo is a proud man and very well-mannered by American and Mexican standards.  Maybe on another occasion we’ll be invited back for dinner.  His staff is amazing.  World class chefs…many trained in Paris.”

“
How do you know all that?” I couldn’t resist asking.  “Intel?  Spies?”  I glanced around.  “Is one of these dudes on your payroll?”

Nick laughed. 
“Nah, nothing that mysterious.  I’ve been here several times as a guest.”  His expression grew sober as he explained, “As long as there’s a demand for illegal drugs in our country, there will be drug dealers.  We can’t stop it all, so we do what we can to control it.  Strong cartels are like unions…or maybe like the mob, ya know?  They keep the peace.  Otherwise, no one wins.  As bad as street drugs are, turf wars are worse.  Lots of innocents get caught in the crossfire.”

“So, you
have basically picked a side?” Jenny asked perceptively.

“
Ricardo’s cartel serves a real purpose on this side of the border.  For their own good…and ours, they keep the peace.  They don’t do it by our laws, but they try to stay under the radar for both of our benefits.”

“I don’t see how you can look the other way
.”  To Jenny it was black and white, and she couldn’t understand how Nick, whose only job was to stop drugs, could exist in the gray area.

“I’ll tell you
who’s hypocritical…my employer, Uncle Sam.  They license the cigarette industry that is directly responsible for more deaths than any other drug, then make money off the lobbyists and exorbitant taxes.  Cigarettes killed my old man, and the state of Virginia had to pay for the last three months of his miserable life in a hospice and hospital.  If the government really cared about people’s health, they’d get rid of the tobacco lobbyists and do the right thing.”

By now Nick’s voice had r
isen and caught the attention of the men around us.  Almost simultaneously the sound of a half dozen automatic weapons clicked to action and pointed in our direction.  I realized that rattlesnakes were the least of our worries.

CHAPTER NINE

A hearty laugh sounded from behind the wall of camouflaged muscles and shiny black guns.  The men parted and an older, distinguished-looking man flanked by two tall men dressed all in black stepped forward.  A few words in Spanish, and the armed men lowered their weapons and melted back into the scenery.  It was easy to guess that the man in the middle must be Ricardo as he approached us.  Nick stood, and after a few seconds of hesitation, the rest of us followed suit.

“Welcome to my
casa
,” he spoke with a heavy, but understandable accent.  He waved both hands, indicating we should be seated while he settled onto the fan-backed chair while one of his assistants placed a manila file folder on the table in front of him.  We sat back down on our uncomfortable wooden folding chairs and waited.  Ricardo smiled at us, his gaze resting on Jenny. He opened the file and pulled out a photo. “Good afternoon Senorita Jennifer.  Allow me to introduce myself.  I am Ricardo Rodriguez.  Would you prefer iced tea or maybe lemonade?” I’m sure he meant for all of us to answer, but he focused on her.

“I’m fine…thanks for asking,” Jenny
responded boldly and maintained eye contact.  If she was intimidated or frightened, she gave no sign.

Nick
spoke on our behalf, “Ricardo...
mi amigo
…thank you for agreeing to see us on short notice.  This is Reno and Christopher with the Scandals Investigations Agency in Austin.  They are helping Jenny with her problem which is why we’re here.”

“
I always have time for you when you come as a friend.”  Ricardo’s tone was light, but his expression said he was dead serious. “How long has it been Nicholas?  You and me?”

Nick
grinned.  “I’ve been chasing you for over ten years, Ricardo.  It was always easier to catch and lock up your competitors.  But you were more of a challenge…too much work.”

“Si…
we heard about you Americans and your bear story.  So, I don’t have to run faster than the bear…just faster than the other guy.”  Ricardo’s laugh was robust.

“You were always faster than the other guy. 
But I think my agency should get a little credit for your training regimen.”

“It’s been a busy life between you and
my competitors.  I’m getting too old to run that fast any more I think.”  Ricardo’s gaze lifted to the horizon as if he was searching for unseen invaders.

Nick leaned forward
and propped his elbows on the table.  “My friend…I was sorry to hear about Miguel.  I assume he didn’t want to stay in the family business.”

“I didn’t let it be known,” Ricardo admitted.
  “I thought I could protect him somehow.  I was stupid.”

“
I checked him out, and he’s doing great in school.  You should be very proud.”

“I am, but now I am afraid he is in danger…especially after someone almost killed him in the emergency room.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised that the old man already knew about last night’s near-disaster.  He probably had ears and eyes everywhere.  Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to stop his son from being shot and Angela kidnapped.  But that did bode well for the possibility that he knew where Angela was being held.

“Guards are posted outside his room 24/7.  I
dropped by to check on him and he was still sleeping off the anesthetic, but they said he was out of danger.”

“Thank you
, Nicholas. You are a good friend.”  Ricardo smiled at the irony of his statement.  “I wanted to come in and see him, but there are too many people who want me dead…and then there are the police…
.
Dios mío
…you guys.”

“
I’m sure Miguel knows how you feel.”

Ricardo
shrugged.  “Maybe…maybe.  Miguel and I have not been on the same page for a long time.”  He shook his head slowly, then looked up at Nick.  “So, is it safe for you to be here?  All the congressional hearings have increased the risk for me and my friends…
and
for you when you are with me.”  He seemed genuinely concerned for Nick’s welfare.

“
Ricardo, my friend, you have always been a drug dealer.  Senators don’t like drug dealers.  They pay me to stop them.”

“Do they know you are here?
  Or maybe I should ask, does someone from FOX News know you’re here? Maybe that Geraldo guy?”  He clicked his tongue in disgust.  “What a pathetic excuse for a Latino.”

Nick
shook his head. “No, not that I know of. Officially, I’m on vacation…a Mexican vacation to the beach.”

“Well
, if you’re supposed to be at an all-inclusive resort, I should offer you more than water.  How about some Don Eduardo Añejo?”

Christopher and I flinched at the mention of tequila.  Our recent bad experience with
some very expensive añejo had left us wary.  But before either of us could think of a polite way to turn down his generous offer, Nick smiled and shook his head.

“
Thank you, but no, we’ve got a long drive back.”

“Next time,
mi amigo
,” Ricardo promised.

The two men exchanged a look of mutual respect.

“I gotta say, Ricardo…you are looking well after your heart attack.  I’ll bet Alta has you under her thumb.”

“
Mierda
…holy
mierda
.  I’m wasting away to nothing…like my business.  You Americans are
loco en la cabeza
, Nick…loco.  I used to make many millions transporting quality pot across the border…for my client’s pleasure.  Now everything is classified as medicine!  And in Colorado they grow it and tax it?  I could count on you guys to keep my competition in check….but your
El Presidente
is too much a coward to enforce U.S. law and invade Colorado!”  He shook his head and signaled one of his assistants to hand him a cigar and a dark red Lamborghini butane lighter. 

I recognized
the lighter because a whale, which was the insider’s name for a wealthy, big-time gambler, at the Bellagio had given one to me because he liked the slight-of-hand trick I did for his girlfriend.  Then times got tough, and I had to pawn it for a measly fifty bucks.  Luckily, I had won another one in a poker game, and I always carried that one with me for luck.

Ricardo
bit the end off of the cigar and slowly smelled the entire length in one long, deep breath.  A smile of pure delight was on his face as he flicked the lighter on, pre-heated the end and held the flame a respectable distance from the end.  He drew in several deep breaths, each one expelling more smoke than the last.  He leaned over the table toward Nick.  “Alta knows I sneak a cigar every day, but just one.  That’s our unspoken agreement.  Now…enough about me.  Tell me about your sister.”  He glanced again at Jenny.

Nick sat on the edge of his chair and placed his hands on the table.
“I brought Jenny with us for a reason…do you know who Angela is?”

Ricardo
leaned over and mumbled something to one of his assistants who gave him one word answers.  The old man turned and looked at Jenny and then back at Nick.  “Several weeks ago Miguel started acting funny…you know…not coming home on weekends…not returning our calls as quickly as usual.  Alta thought he might have a girlfriend, but he never brought her to meet us.  Is that who this Angela is?  Miguel’s girlfriend?”  He studied Jenny with new interest.

“
We don’t know for sure, but we think so,” Nick answered.  “Jenny is her sister.  Miguel made it to her doorstep after he was shot, and she got him to the hospital in time to save his life.”

Tears of gratitude filled Ricardo’s eyes.  “I am forever in your debt for helping my son.  How can I help you?”

“I need to find my sister before they kill her,” Jenny said, her voice soft, but her gaze steady on his.

“We think
the Veracruz Cartel is responsible for the death of Alfonso and the attack on Miguel,” Nick explained.  “We don’t know how long they will keep her alive, so time is of the essence.”

Ricardo
grimaced and squinted his eyes tightly as if he was experiencing the gunshots hitting Miguel and Alfonso.  “A little while ago they had the
bolas
to come to my compound, and they killed Omar…Vicente’s only son just outside our gate.  They can’t kill me or Ignacio or Vicente so they are going after our sons?  One-by-one, they are tearing out our hearts.  Now they are kidnapping our women?  They are slimy cowards…but very, very dangerous.”

“
Listen, my friend…unofficially, I am going to see if I can help Jenny, Reno and Christopher get her out,” Nick told him.  “We have reason to believe they are at the Del Rio property…at the quarry.”

Ricardo
smiled and drew deeply on his cigar again.  “When my children were young, we had fun times at the Del Rio quarry.  I know the property well.  We sold the property about five years ago to some Mexicans…they turned out to be a front for the Veracruz Cartel.  The real estate agent did not live long enough to enjoy the money he made from that deal.”

Jenny’s hand reached over and squeezed my leg, causing me to jump.  Everyone turned to look at me, and I gave them an apologetic smile.  Their attention was drawn back to Ricardo as he continued.

“What do you want from me?”

“We
have a drone.”

Ricardo
sat up straighter and showed an active interest.  “Drone?”  Ricardo laughed.  “Like the ones you tell CNN you don’t use on the border to watch families crossing into the United States?”

Nick
gave him a grin that admitted nothing.  “No comment…I’m not really here and I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I
can
tell you that this drone is privately owned.  We plan on flying it over the compound.”

“
You have eyes in the sky…so what you need is some guns?”

“Actually no…
we don’t want to get involved in a shoot-out.  But we do need a diversion…something that will distract the guards so we can break in and get Angela out.”

“
Distraction…then what?  Run across the desert?  Get in your all-wheel drive Jeep Grand Cherokee with all those cup holders?  You’ll be chased down in fifty meters by a U.S. Army Humvee with a M2 .50 caliber machine gun mounted on its roof.  The vultures can bring their kids to the feast in the morning because you will already be little
aperitivos
…appetizers for them.”

Nick sat back in his chair and Christopher stepped in.  “We were hoping that this diversion would keep them occupied long
enough that we could get away.”

Ricardo
sat there for a moment, rolling the cigar around in his mouth and considering our request.  Finally, he gave one of his assistants an order in Spanish.  The man ran to the house and returned with a legal-sized notepad and a Sharpie pen. Ricardo began to sketch on the pad what appeared to be a map.  We sat there quietly as he added details and drew arrows.  At the head of one of the arrows was the letter
X
that he blackened heavily. On more than one occasion, he tore off the sheet, wadded it into a ball, tossed it aside and started over, frequently conversing with the man who had brought him the paper.  Finally Ricardo and his assistant nodded, smiled and nodded again.

“I have a better idea for your escape Nick…
this, my friend, is a
Mexican Black Ops
plan,” Ricardo chuckled.  “No charge for this top secret information.”  He slid the hand-drawn map across the table to Nick who took it respectfully with both hands and placed it between him and Christopher.

“What are we loo
king at here, Ricardo?”

“
The Del Rio compound…from my memory which isn’t too good…and they probably have made changes.  That star is north.  I do not know exactly where they might be holding your sister Jennifer, but the
X
you see on the map is
muy importante, mi amigo
.  That is where there used to be a cave entrance.  These caves wind left and right, up and down and sometimes they get real tight.  They go under the hills there, and they come out up here on the old Diaz ranch.”  Ricardo put a check mark on a piece of open land.  “Somewhere close to here.”

“
Is it occupied?”

“
Si
.  It is a U.S. government ranch that raises food for your Air Force base.  You’ll be safe there…they don’t speak English in the fields, but once you get to the main house, you will be okay.”

“This is a big help,”
Christopher commented appreciatively.  “At least we won’t be going in blind.”

“
Nick looked at Ricardo.  “Is the cave network complicated?”

“You mean can you get lost in there?”

“Uh…yes.” 

Great, if we survive the brutal Veracruz clan, we r
an a chance of dying in the caves and being discovered twenty years from now by a Boy Scout troop on a camp out.  This was doing nothing to build my confidence in this mission.  But Jenny’s hand on my leg was reminding me why we were risking ourselves…and that I wasn’t about to let her down.  I was having second thoughts about not accepting gratuity sex. If I was important in the rescue of her sister, maybe that would bump me out of the friend category long enough for me to finish what we had started last night. I gave myself a mental shake. 
Down boy…focus.