Authors: Jamie Freveletti
The Ninth Day (6 page)
“A microscope, petri dishes, slides. In short, I need a laboratory.” Emma felt some satisfaction when she saw La Valle frown. That’s right, jerk, I need more than you can provide, she thought.
“Isn’t there a microscope over at the farm?” Raoul addressed his question to La Valle, who nodded. Raoul waved a hand in the general direction of the backyard. “There’s a farm at the far end of the property. Ask Miguel to show you where the medical supplies are kept. I think they have a microscope there for the veterinarian’s use when she comes. Oz, you’ve seen it. Take her there.”
Oz gave a curt nod.
“What did Octavio tell you?” La Valle asked. His eyes bored into Emma’s.
“That he’s used a tincture with herbs on the sores and this afternoon he’ll administer salvia.”
La Valle grunted. “The magic mint. That’s good. I expected him to do that first thing. Don’t know why he waited.”
“Magic mint? What’s it do?” Oz asked.
Emma tipped her hand from side to side. “Salvia is a hallucinogen. Makes people laugh, cry, but mostly just stay stock-still while a movie plays in their brain. Once the hallucinations start, the medicine men believe that the patient will speak the truth of what’s actually attacking his system.”
“It’s a magical leaf,” La Valle said. Emma didn’t respond. La Valle’s belief in magic would be his downfall, one way or another. The only question was whether he would bring her down with him. She turned and walked out into the sunshine. Once there she took a deep breath, happy to be out of La Valle’s orbit. She heard the door behind her open and close.
“So what’s your next step?” Oz said.
Break out of here, Emma thought.
“T
ake me to the farm,” Emma said. Oz struck out to the right, headed toward the stable. When they reached the graveled area that acted as a parking lot, he swung a leg over a flashy motorcycle parked next to the Jeep Raoul had used to drive them to the fields.
“Hop on,” he said.
Emma joined him on the back and wrapped her arms around his waist. His body felt warm through his tee shirt. He kicked the cycle alive, and the engine’s noise sent a group of blackbirds flapping out of the trees. They cruised on a dirt road that ran along the inside of the wooden rail fence. Emma scanned the trees. No video cameras that she could see. Then a wooden pole, much like an electrical pole, came into view. At the top Emma spied a small wireless camera.
Oz turned his head toward her. “See it?” he yelled over the roar of the engine.
She nodded against his back.
During the trip she determined that Oz was right. The poles appeared in formation, and each one sported a camera. Video surveillance monitored the entire compound. Oz drove up to a gate and killed the engine. A pole sat twelve feet from them. The gate bisected the fields, creating a separate area. Emma counted ten horses grazing in the distance.
Oz waved at the meadow. “This is where the farm starts. The outbuildings, stables and a ranch house are up ahead.” He started the motorcycle up again. After a minute or two more, the outbuildings came into view. In front of them was a one-level house painted white, with a large carport attached to one side that was wide enough for two cars. A black SUV was parked in the spot nearest the side door.
Behind the ranch house Emma saw a round paddock and two more stables, these more modern-looking than the one back at the hacienda. Several smaller corrals held pigs, and cows grazed in an adjacent field. Oz parked the cycle next to the SUV. Emma swung a leg off and stood up while he killed the engine. She walked to the vehicle and peered inside. On the passenger seat was a stack of invoices, with the name “Luisa Perez” at the top and the acronym “M.V.Z.”
“The veterinarian is here,” Emma said. “Let’s go inside.”
The first room consisted of a combination dining and kitchen area. A round wooden table with chairs painted white sat in the center of the dining area, which opened into a square space with a kitchen. Emma pushed through another door on the far side of the room and stepped into the laboratory.
A young Mexican woman, her hair pulled into a ponytail and wearing jeans and a blue chambray shirt, worked at a counter lined with a microscope and several round glass containers, each with their own aluminum top. She looked up when Emma entered. She had a lovely face, devoid of makeup, and skin that glowed with good health.
“May I help you?” she said in English. Emma introduced herself and Oz, who had stepped up behind her. “I’m a chemist. Are you the vet?”
The woman nodded. “Luisa Perez.” Emma reached out her hand. Dr. Perez hesitated. When it became obvious that the woman wouldn’t shake her hand, Emma slowly withdrew it. Dr. Perez’s face flushed, and she looked down in embarrassment.
“Are you afraid that I have the migrant workers’ sickness?” Emma said.
Perez grimaced. “I’m sorry. I just can’t take the risk. I’m here for only a moment. One of the mares is due to give birth, and I wanted to check on her.”
“Have you told the authorities about what’s going on here?” Emma said.
Perez got a panicked look on her face. “Absolutely not! La Valle would have me killed if I spoke out of turn. I care for his animals, and in return he pays me and leaves me alone.”
Oz turned abruptly and stalked out of the room. The walls shook when he slammed out the door one room away.
Perez sighed. “I apologize, but La Valle is not a man to take lightly. He is quite powerful, and I don’t wish to have any trouble. I do my job and don’t ask any questions.”
Emma felt her anger rising again. She had hoped for more from this woman despite the fact that she knew La Valle was a force in the area. How could Perez help the animals he housed but not the humans he abused? Emma took a step closer. Perez took a step back.
“I’m here against my will. I didn’t ask to be involved in this mess, but now that I’m here I can’t just turn my back. The men are dying. They need to get to a hospital. Preferably a large teaching hospital, where their condition can be diagnosed and treated.”
Perez shook her head. “I can’t help you. Or them. Octavio told me that he believes they will die whether they go to a hospital or not.”
“They deserve a chance. Octavio could be wrong.”
Perez pushed past Emma, headed toward the door.
“Wait!” Emma said. Perez turned and gave her a wary look. Emma sought to placate her. “Can you tell me what medications you have here? Maybe show me the farm?”
Perez took a deep breath. She jerked her chin at the cabinets that lined the walls above the countertops. “I have liniments for the animals, tranquilizers, syringes, and some very general medications for various routine ailments. Heartworm, rabies vaccinations, things like that.”
“I want to take scrapings from the men’s sores and look at them under the microscope. I’d also like to draw some blood and have it analyzed. Do you have fresh slides, a scalpel, and some gloves? A petri dish would be great as well.”
Perez reached into the cabinet and began removing supplies. She assembled them on the counter before reaching below and opening a brown paper bag. She loaded the tools in, added gloves and packets containing alcohol swabs, curled the top and handed it to Emma.
“Thanks. Once I draw the blood, could you take it to a lab in town?”
Perez shook her head. “Not unless La Valle orders it.”
Emma gritted her teeth at the woman’s complete lack of a spine. “La Valle ordered me to investigate the disease and treat it. To do that I’ll need the use of a lab. I think he’ll understand.”
Perez got a dubious look on her face. “If it’s all right with him, then I’ll do it.”
Emma tried a different tack. Maybe the woman would open up more if she felt Emma was on her side. “What animals do you treat here?”
“All of them. Even the armadillos.”
“Ahh, yes. I’d heard that La Valle keeps armadillos. Do you know why?”
Perez grimaced. “La Valle believes in the folklore surrounding them that says an armadillo’s hard carapace covering makes it impervious to injury.”
“Impervious to injury? Seems like most of the roadkill in the west consists of armadillos.”
Perez nodded. “I know, but that doesn’t sway La Valle. He kills them and grinds their plated back armor into a fine powder.”
Emma was intrigued. “What does he do with it?”
He sprinkles it around the hacienda in a border. He believes it protects the home from evil spirits. The theory is that evil won’t cross an armored line. He’s surrounded this barn with it as well.”
“That’s nuts. Besides, if evil can’t cross the line, then La Valle himself would be stuck inside his hacienda.” The words were out before Emma could censor herself.
Perez gave a grim laugh. “You and I don’t believe these stories, but we’re scientists. He also feeds their meat to the migrant workers to make them strong.”
“I’ve never heard of eating armadillos. That’s disgusting.”
Perez nodded. “Lots of people eat them. La Valle doesn’t, though. She waved Emma toward her. “Come, I’ll show you the armadillo pens.”
The ranch house’s backyard held only a few scrub plants. The sun hit Emma full bore when she stepped outside. Perez angled right to one of the smaller pens at the end of one of the stables. A five-by-five fenced area, walled on one of the sides by the stable, held a small low-lying wooden platform, about ten inches off the ground. Underneath it, Emma saw an armadillo curled into a ball, sleeping. A dog door set into the stable wall gave the animals access to the inside.
“They’re sleeping. Let’s check the interior. They like it when it’s cool and dark.” Perez walked around to the end of the building and stepped inside. Emma followed, and was relieved to be out of the sun’s glare and in the stable’s gloom. The area smelled of animal hair and straw. Emma glanced at the ceiling, and in all four corners. No cameras anywhere. It appeared as though La Valle’s security team had overlooked the barn.
Perez waved at another penned area. In this one, several armadillos lounged under wooden slats set up as houses, or were curled up in deep pits that they had dug for themselves. Most of the animals were gray, but in one corner, separated from the rest by a low barrier, was a bundle of pink fur and claws.
“That one’s beautiful,” Emma pointed at the pink creature.
Perez nodded. “It’s called a pink fairy. Very rare. La Valle has four of them. The rest are your average nine-banded armadillos. Nothing to write home about.”
“Still, it’s a strange obsession, but La Valle seems to have a few. The medicine man showed me the tepee and told me about La Valle’s fascination with American-Indian folklore.”
Perez turned somber. She seemed to be struggling with herself. Deciding whether she should say something. Emma prodded her.
“Tell me.”
“La Valle’s interest in armadillos grew out of some other folklore that I haven’t told you about. Armadillos are called gravediggers.”
Emma didn’t like the sound of that. “Why?”
“They use their claws for burrowing. They’re quite good at it. The folktales say that the armadillo digs into the graves of humans and dines on the bodies it finds. La Valle tells his enemies that he will exact vengeance even after they’re dead. He’ll bury them and send his armadillos to eat their flesh.”
Obsession indeed, Emma thought.
E
mma found Oz leaning against a railing about thirty feet from the ranch house, watching the horses graze. She leaned on the fence next to him. He glanced at her once before returning to watch the field.
“I saw the armadillos. Kind of interesting,” Emma said.
Oz said nothing.
“I need to get back to the men. I want to sample the sores. Will you drive me? It’ll save time.”
“Can you cure them?” Oz said.
“Given access to a lab and unlimited time, maybe. In nine days without benefit of testing equipment? Not likely.”
Now Oz bent his head to look at her fully. His eyes were gray with flecks of blue. They held a somber, intelligent look. Emma thought the planes of his face were elegant. He was handsome in a startling, classic manner, and this close up she could see the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow.
“So what are you going to do?”
Emma took a deep breath. “Escape. Once I’m out I’ll notify the authorities. It’s the best chance they, and Serena, have.”
Oz lifted an eyebrow. “And me.”
Emma swallowed. She knew that a man with his intelligence would have figured out the end game. She was impressed with his calm.
“If you’re forced to transport the shipment, wear gloves and try to avoid touching the leaves. You shouldn’t get close.”
Oz held her gaze a moment. “Even if I manage to avoid infection, they’ll kill me at the last stop.”
Emma looked away. He was right, but she didn’t know what to say.
He sighed. “You won’t be able to escape. Not with those cameras.”
“I’ll think of something,” she said.
“You’ll need help.”