“Are you okay?” he said in a soft tone. But there was anger in it, too. “Did they… do anything to you?”
Her eyes were big and expressive. She shook her head vigorously.
“Thank God,” he said, then kissed her again. “Now, let me get the rest of this tape off.”
She nodded gently.
He put the knife blade on the tape securing her left wrist.
“You heard the girl screaming on your voice mail?” Amanda asked.
Matt paused and looked at her.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, slightly confused.
“They left a terrifying message on your voice mail. They were holding me for ransom. But it wasn’t me. On the message, I mean.”
Matt nodded as he tried to digest that.
A voice-mail message?
I wouldn’t have gotten it because my battery is dead.
He glanced at the box on the table, then went back to cutting the duct tape. He was really worried he might accidentally cut her in his haste. He had to saw slowly through the tape. They had made at least four wraps of each wrist and ankle, and it took more slow sawing than he could believe.
Paco Esteban came into the kitchen.
“Sergeant Byrth-he said tell you ‘house clear,’ ” Esteban said.
“Thank you.”
Payne reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“Paco, would you look in that box of phones and see if you can find a battery that works with this phone? Or maybe a charger, if there’s one in there.”
“S?.”
Jim Byrth walked into the kitchen.
“Okay, I’ve got El Gato secured in there,” he said, and grinned. “Taped to the chair just like he likes.”
He handed Payne’s handcuffs back to him.
Then he said, “The guys in Dallas described that stash house they raided. This place is set up just like it. It’s a damn prison. Actually, our Texas prisons are nicer.”
Byrth then tossed a nice tan leather wallet on the kitchen table. And two State of Texas driver’s licenses.
“El Gato is one Juan Paulo Delgado, aka Edgar Cisneros. I called it in to the office. He’s got a few priors, but nothing serious like this. Born at Parkland in Dallas at taxpayer expense-both parents undocumented Mexican nationals, later given amnesty in that law President Reagan signed-and educated in Dallas at taxpayer expense. Too bad he learned all the wrong lessons.”
Payne raised his eyebrows at that.
So he is a U.S. citizen, and preying on illegals, ones like his parents. Unbe lieveable.
But an animal’s an animal, no matter the circumstances.
“Here, Sergeant Payne,” Paco Esteban said, holding out Payne’s cell phone.
Payne took it and saw that Esteban had already pressed the 0/1 button. The phone was coming to life.
It vibrated three, then four times. Its small screen announced that he had five missed calls, including two voice-mail messages and two text messages from Amanda Law.
Payne hit the speakerphone key. He played the first voice mail; it had been blank.
The second voice mail was El Gato’s threat, with the screaming boy and girl recording and the threat to kill Amanda.
Payne saw Amanda start to shake visibly.
He knelt and held her as he turned off the telephone.
When she’d stopped, he stood. He looked at the beers on the table.
He walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, and found it packed with bottles of beers. He grabbed three and brought them back to the table. When he opened one, it made the sound of gas escaping. He thought he saw Amanda recoil at it. But when he handed her the open bottle, she quickly grabbed it and took a big swallow.
He opened another and offered it to Byrth.
“Maybe in a minute. Thanks.”
He offered the bottle to Esteban, who took it.
Then he opened the third. He put it to his lips and turned it upside down, drinking at least the first third.
He then kissed Amanda again on her forehead.
“I’ll be right back, baby.”
Juan Paulo Delgado looked up when he heard Matt Payne enter the dining room. Byrth had taped his wrists palm-up, and Matt saw the “D” tattoo. Payne felt a level of anger he did not know was possible.
“So now what?” Juan Paulo Delgado, his head bruised and bloody, said with an odd smile.
His tone did not reveal any fear. In fact, it sounded taunting.
With the beer bottle in his left hand, Payne pulled his Colt from the small of his back with his right hand.
He took another healthy drink of the beer, then looked the animal in the eyes.
What did Amy say about psychopaths?
You can’t rehabilitate them. They’ll kill again and again.
And in prison they’ll be thrown in solitary.
So why not just fucking kill him now?
He probably was going to do that to Amanda… after doing God knows what.
The image of the girl’s head in Paco Esteban’s freezer flashed in his mind.
Sonofabitch!
No one will miss you, Delgado.
No one will give a rat’s ass you’re dead and gone and burning to a crisp in hell.
Payne raised his pistol, pointing the muzzle at Delgado’s forehead. He thumbed back the hammer.
He saw him flinch, if only slightly.
And shits like you get killed every day in drug deals gone bad.
Payne held the gun there for what seemed like five minutes.
But I can’t do it.
Even as badly as he deserves it.
It would make me little better than him.
I am not judge and jury.
Stanley Whatshisname is wrong.
We can’t just shoot ’em all and let the Lord sort ’em out.
Payne brought down his pistol. He locked it.
“This is your lucky day, you sonofabitch.”
El Gato grinned defiantly at him.
Payne added, “You really must be a goddamn cat. But you just burned one of your nine lives. Eventually, you’ll run out.”
Payne looked down a moment. At Delgado’s feet he noticed there was a bean, similar to the one Jim Byrth tumbled across his fingers. But this one was black. He shook his head.
Payne turned.
Byrth and Esteban were standing there, backlit in the open doorway to the kitchen. Both now wore the tan- colored surgical gloves the crime-scene technicians used.
Nice and professional of Jim.
And what the hell… time to move this case to the next phase.
Payne looked between them, then wordlessly walked back into the kitchen.
Payne saw that Tony Harris was handing his handkerchief to Amanda Law. She was standing, leaning against the counter by the sink.
She ran toward Matt. He went to her, his arms open, and wrapped them around her. She sobbed uncontrollably.
Payne then heard Jim Byrth enter the room.
