Until the Dawn (9 page)

* * * * *

Two hours later, they sat in front of one of the Border Patrol outposts along the main highway out of Del Rio. Assuming their false identities that Nikki had established for them, Dan had become Dave Foreman and Maddie was his wife, Madeline. Two city slickers, they were dressed in their cords and plain shirts, loafers and matching navy blazers.

“Let me ask you to repeat your story, Mr. Forester, one more time. For the record, you understand, and so my tape recorder can get the information.” The border 64

Until the Dawn

patrolman was a graying gentleman with huge pot belly that lapped over his uniform belt.

“Sure. Not a problem,” Dan told the heavy-set man in the green uniform. “My wife and I hired two horses for a leisurely ride in the country this morning. I guess we got lost. It took us a while to find our way back. But as we were riding, we discovered a clearing and a covered highway.”

“Covered how, Mr. Forester?” the man asked from behind his desk. He might have been more interested in grass growing.

“Shrubs, trees. You know, what grows here,” Dan said, sounding like a crazy Easterner.

Maddie smiled and tried her part of the ruse. “But we got concerned that it might be a hideaway. And then all of a sudden, we saw three old women jump out of the brush.”

The patrolman scowled. “Illegals. We can’t catch ’em all. Too damn many.”

“Yes, but there’s more,” Maddie added with excitement.

“More women?” the man looked concerned now.

“No,” Dan added. “What my wife means is we saw more.”

Now they had the patrolman’s attention. He sat forward. “More of what?”

Outside in the reception area, a grumble went up from the other patrolmen. The one in the office with them shook his head and got up to close his door. “Sorry about that. They like to watch the news. Get excited at every li’l thing. Now you were saying you saw more wetbacks?”

“No,” Dan said emphatically. “We saw train tracks. The women came from the area of train tracks! Do you know you have a train operating on the riverbed and it’s bringing in illegal immigrants by the hundreds?”

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The patrolman fell back in his chair as if he’d been pushed there by the force of a hurricane. “Nooo. That cannot be.” He shook his head from side to side like a puppet.

“We don’t have hundreds coming through here.”

How sure are you of that?
Maddie glanced at Dan. “Sweetie,” she addressed him like an adoring wife, “I guess we’ll never know for sure. We’ll just have to tell it like we saw it and make the assumption that—”

“Make
what
assumption?” The patrolman jounced forward on the spring of his chair. “Who
are
you people and what
precisely
are you making up?”

“Oh, not lying. No, sir. We told you,” she addressed him, innocent as a spring daisy. “Mr. and Mrs. Dave Forester from Lancaster, Pennsylvania and we are here on our honeymoon doing research for a big true crime book. On illegals and how they get in. And we found this train track and then the women, and we were just so excited, so we said to ourselves, we have to hear what the Border Patrol can tell us about this. The responsible thing to do. Good, huh?”

The patrolman gave a small roll of his eyes, as if he met nut jobs like this all the time. “Look, Mr. and Mrs. Forest.”

“Forester,” she and Dan corrected him.

“Whatever. We have no train tracks. We—”

“We could show you.”

“What you saw was an old defunct line of the A,T and Santa Fe.”

“That’s the name of it.” Maddie gave him her satisfied sleuth look.

“Mrs. Forest, that line does not run.”

“Forester is the name,” she said, sweet as apple pie. “And how are you so certain it does not run, Patrolman Gonzales?”

“We don’t hear it.” He made a circle with his finger. “The whistle? It doesn’t blow any longer.”

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Until the Dawn

* * * * *

They were a mile away in their rental car before they allowed themselves the luxury of laughing their heads off. As Maddie wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, she regretted they could not have stayed longer and riled poor patrolman Gonzales a bit more.

“What a mess,” she mourned. “Do you think he has half a clue about what’s really going on there?”

“He knew the railroad existed.”

“But I doubt he thinks it runs.”

“Yes, I think he’s honest,” Dan concluded as he slowed to go through a small town.

“But he was trying to cover up the local scandal for us. He doesn’t want bad publicity and Mr. and Mrs. Dave Forester could give it to him if they really did write a book. He’s got enough problems with the two trucks that were found north of here.”

“Pull in here, Dan.” They were breezing through a small town, past a convenience store. “I need some water. That ride this morning parched me.”

Dan pulled in and in two minutes, she was climbing back into their Kia and handing him a bottle of water. “What’s wrong?”

He was scowling, turning up the radio. “The president and the vice president are in the hospital.”

“What? No!” Her mind spun. “Are you kidding? If both men are ill, the next person in line of succession is the Speaker of the House. Oh, god. I have to find Trask. I can’t go on with you. I—”

“Shh, honey, listen.” Dan turned up the radio.

“Both President Hamill and Vice President Tollover were taken ill during a private luncheon meeting in the White House. No one else was in attendance. The White House physician was on the scene immediately and we have word just coming in from the 67

Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand

White House news room that the vice president has been released and sent home. More as it develops here. This is John Chalmers at the White House.”

“I have to find Trask,” Maddie insisted.

“You told him you were going to Cancun, baby. Think. He’ll find his own way to Washington if he’s even left and needs to return. Whenever the president shows any sign of physical ailments, Trask’s bodyguard doubles automatically. He’s fine. He’s got people to ensure his safety.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “You’re right. You’re right.” She unscrewed her water bottle and took a long drink. “My brain is fried. Let’s get back to the dude ranch and check out. We need to go into Del Rio and talk to the administrators at the train station. They might be able to tell us when that line went dark.”

“Okay, let’s.” Dan pulled out onto Main Street and within a mile was back on the four-lane highway to the ranch.

Maddie was flipping stations, listening to one reporter after another speculate on the delicate health of the president and the fact that he most likely contracted salmonella poisoning in his own home. She was shaking her head over the improbability of that when Dan took her hand.

“Fasten your seat belt tighter.” She saw his gaze swing to his rearview mirror. “We have company. Have had them since we left the Border Patrol station.”

“Gonzales is following us?” she asked as she cinched her belt more closely.

“Looks like a younger guy. Black or a great tan. With a buddy who looks twice as old and twice as mean. Nice straightaway here. Let’s peel some rubber, eh?”

Dan pressed the pedal to the floor with a smooth motion that had them flying down the road. The Kia gave them zip but she wasn’t so sure how it would hold up against their pursuers. They were in a souped-up Dodge and loving the chase. As they skittered all over the road, Maddie prayed for traffic to come the other way to make them stay in their lane and tone down their tempers. But no such thing happened.

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The Dodge kept on coming. Until finally, it drew even with them and the passenger leaned out of his window with the biggest damn gun Maddie had ever seen.

She screamed for Dan to pull over. Terrified the guy would hit Dan, she noted that on the straightaway a huge tractor-trailer was headed their way.

“I see him,” she heard Dan yell at her. “Get down,” he mouthed, both hands on the perilously held wheel. “Stay down, baby.”

She hated to be a chicken but there was little else she could do to help Dan except obey him. She crouched down and prayed. She heard the tractor trailer driver blaring his horn and felt their own car slow. She squeezed her eyes shut. And then she heard a rumble and a howl.

The tractor trailer blew past them and the Kia wobbled and rolled its way onward down the highway.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

Didn’t breathe.

“They’re done for, Maddie. Look, baby. It’s okay now.” Dan had his hand in her hair, caressing her as he slowed down, down, down.

When she rose up, she felt tears on her cheeks but had no idea how they’d gotten there. “Where are they?” she asked, pivoting to find them.

And when she did, the sight resembled the car derbies. The Dodge had slewed around on a wide plane, but the centrifugal force had spun them so that the car had tipped and stood on one side. Weaving back and forth, it teetered.

Dan brought their own car to a full stop. Breathing heavily and grabbing her close to him, he pressed his lips to her forehead. Cursing, he rammed the shift in reverse and drove over the rough scrub terrain toward the car.

“No! No! Don’t go near them!” she shouted at Dan.

“I have to know who they are, Maddie. It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. We are.” He squeezed her hand. “Dig the guns out of the glove compartment.”

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Dan drove up to the smoking auto. The two men hung at obtuse angles like limp dolls. Still. Open mouths. Comatose or dead? Dan couldn’t know but wouldn’t take any chances. The driver draped over the steering wheel. The passenger sprawled out of the rear window. Grabbing one gun, Dan told her to cover him. “No prisoners if he tries to plug me. Understand?”

Dan ran up toward the car, Glock in hand.

Maddie looked back toward the road. Deserted. Quiet. No man’s land. “How true,”

she murmured to herself and took a two-handed aim at the Dodge.

Dan leaned in, put two fingers to each man’s throat. With each pulse, he’d look toward her and shake his head. Then he reached inside, and she couldn’t understand what he was grabbing for until he pulled it out.

Paper. A card. The registration?

“Come on, Dan!” she yelled at him. “The car may blow any minute!”

He ran like a madman and reached her just as the first flames lit the sky.

“Did you get the license plate?” he asked her as they held each other and watched the car burn in a bright red ball of flame.

“I did.”

“Good work, Mrs. Forester. With your numbers and my registration card, let’s see if we can learn who masterminded this little escapade.”

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Until the Dawn

“So what do those papers give us?”

Maddie was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Dan spread the documents out on the little round table by the window. Her heart was still racing from the car chase, the shooting and their narrow escape.

“Texas Driver’s Licenses. Pretty ordinary names. Juan Gabrian and Pedro Ruiz.

They both live in El Paso. But the car is registered to a Norseman Auto Dealership in Del Rio.”

“Norseman?” Maddie interrupted. “That’s a pretty weird name for a dealership in South Texas.”

Dan shrugged. “Maybe the family came over here from Norway years ago. I understand many European immigrants fought at the Alamo.”

“That’s right. I forgot about that. Still…” Her voice trailed off. Something about this was bothering her but nothing she could identify. Maybe if she stopped thinking about it whatever it was would come to her.

“But look at this.” Dan lifted a piece of paper. “It’s a crumpled pay stub made out to Gabrian that was shoved in the glove compartment. I pulled it out when I grabbed for the registration.” He stared at the documents as if he expected one of them to suddenly send him a message.

“Who paid him?”

Dan smoothed the paper. Squinted at the sheet, then stared at her. “Del Rio Gun Auctions, Incorporated.”

Maddie slapped a hand to her chest. “Do you think that such a company could get permits for illegal weapons?”

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“Hell, honey. Smugglers wouldn’t need permits for the weapons. But a place like this could make it easier to get a shipment like that across the border.”

“So if that’s true, then we still need to connect them to the Border Patrol. But how?”

Dan swept the papers into a neat pile. “Not sure yet. It’s obvious that the guns are coming across in trucks, then being offloaded onto railroad cars where they can make their way to anywhere in this country.”

“There has to be someone in the Border Patrol connected to this or the smugglers couldn’t make it work,” Maddie pointed out.

“You’re right. Someone has to keep their eyes and ears shut when the trucks come through and offload to stock cars. Crews have to show up to offload the weapons. It’s nothing you can easily miss.”

“We need Nikki’s resources to help us trace these men. Find out if they have any priors,” she offered. She caught Dan scowling. “What bothers you?”

“Ordinarily, I could ask my Control to do a trace. A simple thing to do to call up the FBI files and our own.” Those green eyes were dark with worry. “But I can’t.”

“Because?”

He ran a hand through his hair and paced around the room. “The fact that the FBI was in my apartment when you went there the other day means someone tipped them off to come looking for me. And I’m not sure why. Can’t figure out what I did or didn’t do that could trigger a search like that. Unless my Control has had a crisis of conscience—and I missed the signs.” Dan faced her. “I can’t take the chance to give her a bead on us.”

Maddie rose from the bed and took both his hands. “Sound thinking. Let’s give Nikki all this data about these two thugs. She’ll trace them, their families and friends and where else they worked. Learn more about Del Rio Gun Auctions, too. To find a link here.”

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