out of trees. They had to come from somewhere.
So far, that was all to the good. Humberto knew that the girl the cops were looking for-presumably, the one whose prints they had found in his vehicle-was lying dead in the desert somewhere. As long as they were looking for the dead girl, they weren’t looking at Humberto.
But Humberto believed in being thorough. So he checked with two more sources, both of whom were inside Phoenix PD. There he learned that the person of interest, the missing girl, was named Rose Ventana. She had run away at age fourteen and was thought to have a rose tattoo on her right boob.
Humberto knew for a fact that the part about the rose tattoo was true. The girl Chico had called Breeze definitely did have a rose tattoo, one with a few recent additions to the original design. Again, he wasn’t especially concerned, but then things started to go south. One of his media sources came up with a very disturbing piece of information-a rumor, a tweet from Rose Ventana’s sister-that maybe Rose wasn’t dead at all; that she had been found badly injured on Friday and was being treated at an as yet unnamed hospital somewhere in Tucson.
Humberto was appalled. He could afford a lot of things, but he couldn’t afford to have Breeze Domingo or Rose Ventana or whoever she was alive and able to talk. That was unacceptable. It was time for serious damage control, and it had to happen right away.
Humberto didn’t call Sal and Tony in and read them the riot act. Instead, he opened the safe in the wall behind his desk and took out seventy-five thousand in cash. Then he went online and found photos of some of the known players-especially the parents and the homicide cop-anything that would help identify the targets.
With photos and the money loaded into a briefcase, Humberto left his chauffeur and the Bentley behind and drove himself to Phoenix in his silver Carrera. He parked outside a building that contained a high-end detail shop. Tossing his keys to an attendant, he went inside to look for Angel Moreno. Angel’s company, Starshine, specialized in auto detailing. Angel himself was into another kind of work altogether.
“I’ve got a job for you,” Humberto said, setting the briefcase on Angel’s Formica-topped desk. “Three of them, actually. The sooner the better.”
42
2:30 P.M., Monday, April 12
Tucson, Arizona
In her years as a patient advocate, Sister Anselm had dealt with plenty of challenging family situations, and this one was no different. She let Rose know that her family was waiting outside, but that was all. Her patient’s wishes were paramount. It wasn’t her responsibility to convince Rose to change her mind. It was a matter of watching and waiting. That was something Sister Anselm knew how to do. She was surprised, however, that the Fox family as a group seemed prepared to do the same thing-wait indefinitely.
They settled into the ICU waiting room and did just that. By midafternoon Rose’s condition had improved enough that there was a good possibility she’d be moved out of the ICU later in the day. That was another bit of good news Sister Anselm couldn’t share with Rose’s anxious family, not until it actually happened.
Then Rose surprised her. “Still here?” she asked. With her jaw wired shut, the words came out in a distorted whisper, almost baby talk, but she was making the effort to speak, and Sister Anselm got the message.
“You mean is your family still here?” Sister Anselm asked.
Rose nodded.
“Yes, they are,” Sister Anselm told her, sensing that something had changed. “They’re waiting right outside.”
“Sisters, too?”
“Yes, I’ve met Lily and Jasmine. They’re lovely. You can only have one visitor at a time. Which one would you like me to send in first?”
There was a pause before Rose whispered, “…father.”
That was not the answer Sister Anselm had expected. “That’s who you want to see-your stepfather? Mr. Fox?”
Rose nodded. “Please.”
“Right now?”
Rose nodded again.
Sister Anselm went to the door. “Mr. Fox? You can come in now.”
He looked stunned. “Who, m-me?” he stammered.
“Yes, you,” Sister Anselm said.
“But what about her mother?” Fox asked, giving his wife a questioning look as he rose to his feet. “This must be a mistake. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Sister Anselm said. “You’re the one she asked for.”
Once inside the room, Sister Anselm was prepared to leave them alone. “Stay,” Rose ordered.
James Fox moved toward the bed. When he saw Rose’s shattered face, he couldn’t conceal his shock and dismay. Or his tears.
“Look awful,” Rose managed.
“Oh, no,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”
She shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. “For running away.”
“My fault,” he said. “All my fault. We just want you home, Rose. We want you to get better.”
“Good father,” she said.
The unexpected praise caught James Fox by surprise. He sank into the room’s only chair, covered his face with his hands, and sobbed while Sister Anselm looked on in wonder. She knew she might have played some small part in making this miracle happen, but she wasn’t sure how.
By the time James Fox’s five minutes were up, he had managed to quit crying. “We’ll be outside,” he said. “I’ll send your mother in next.”
Rose nodded. “Not yet,” she said. “Later.”
“See there?” Sister Anselm said to Rose once Fox left. “I told you your family wants you home.”
“Yes,” Rose whispered. Then, exhausted by the conversation, she drifted off to sleep. For the first time, there was a slight smile in the curve of her swollen lips.
Leaving Rose to sleep, Sister Anselm stepped into the waiting room where the Fox family was huddled together. Just then Al Gutierrez arrived with a middle-aged woman in tow. As soon as Al saw James Fox, the younger man stopped short, as if unsure what to do-stay or turn around and go. Fox solved the dilemma for them both by rushing over to him, grasping one of Al’s hands in his, and pumping it. “Thank you,” he said. “We can’t thank you enough for finding her and saving her. And I’m sorry about last night.”
By the time Fox’s effusive greeting ended, the woman stepped forward to introduce herself. “I’m Detective Ariel Rush,” she said. “You’re Rose’s family?”
The two parents and the two sisters nodded in unison.
“And you must be the patient advocate, the one Al told me about.”
“Yes. I’m Sister Anselm.”
Detective Rush looked around the room. “Has there been any public announcement about this-about your finding her?”
“Not yet,” Connie answered. “We wanted to check with Rose before we said anything.”
“Excellent,” Detective Rush said. “Now, is there a conference room of some kind where we can have a private conversation? There have been some serious new developments in the case.”
“Like what?” Connie asked.
“Your daughter may not be the only victim here,” Detective Rush said. “In fact, she may be one of several. So far as we know, she’s the only one who’s still alive. As long as her killer doesn’t know that, we have a better chance of catching him, because if he doesn’t feel threatened, he may not go to ground. On the other hand, if he discovers she’s alive, that may put Ms. Ventana’s personal safety at risk. The sooner we can get her out of the hospital and into a more secure environment, the better I’m going to like it. For the time being, we have to keep Rose’s situation
