Diego.
“Blue Sapphire Regency, how may I help you?”
“I have to speak to one of your guests, Lyle Galviera.”
“One moment please, I’ll connect you-”
The line clicked with the transfer.
“Front desk? May I be of-”
“I need to speak to one of your guests, Lyle Galviera! It’s urgent!”
“Of course, that last name again?”
“Galviera. G-A-L-V-”
Rapid typing on a keyboard.
“Lyle Galviera of Phoenix?”
“Yes, that’s him!”
“I’m sorry. We had a reservation for Mr. Galviera but our records show that he never arrived.”
Cora hung up, called Lyle’s hotel in Los Angeles and got the same result.
She dressed without showering and ran to her car.
Dawn was breaking and freeway traffic was light as Cora sped west then north toward Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. Quick Draw Courier’s depot, a squat single-story warehouse, was located amid the industrial buildings southwest of the terminals.
Cora could see the delivery trucks backed to the rear loading bays where the night crew was going full tilt processing orders. She parked out front by the landscaped entrance to the administration office. At the card lock, she swiped her employee card and punched in her security code. She entered and hurried to her desk.
No one was in at this hour.
She closed the door to her office, hit the lights and started her computer. Tilly smiled back from her screen saver before Cora navigated to the itinerary she’d prepared for Lyle’s business trip.
She went to the website of the airline he was using and called. She rushed through the prompts only to be put into the queue for a living, breathing agent. While holding, she checked her cell phone for any response from Lyle.
Nothing.
She opened another file for Quick Draw Courier’s credit card. Lyle used a company card for all business. While still on hold with the airline, Cora used her cell phone to call the credit card company’s security department and report a lost card.
“Could you please give us details on the last transaction?” Cora asked.
The card was last used to pay for a business lunch in Phoenix. The agent provided the time. It was the day before Lyle had left for the trip.
“Would you like us to cancel the card now, ma’am?” asked the agent.
“No, thank you. We’re hoping it will turn up. Thanks.”
Cora finally got through to a human being at the airline. She begged the agent to help her confirm if Lyle had boarded any of the flights she’d booked for him.
“Unfortunately airline privacy policy prevents us-”
“Please! This is a family emergency! The ticket was purchased with our company credit card. I’ll give you the number to verify.”
A tense silence passed.
“Please!” she said. “It’s extremely urgent! Please!”
“Give me the number. I’ll check with my supervisor.”
Cora recited it and the agent said: “One moment please.”
As seconds ticked by, Cora looked at the online news pages showing sports scores; celebrity gossip; international news out of London on the Royal Navy, Hong Kong on business mergers, drug-war murders in Mexico. Then the line clicked.
“Sorry for the delay, ma’am. I can confirm that the departure ticket purchased by your company has not been used, nor has it been adjusted to a different date or flight.”
Cora hung up and concentrated.
Today was Monday. Lyle was to have left Friday morning for San Diego. Tomorrow morning, he was to fly to Los Angeles and return to Phoenix on Thursday. Cora had expected to hear from him later today but was not concerned that he hadn’t called or emailed her over the weekend. She was not clingy and it was no big deal if he didn’t call every day. And, as far as she knew, things were quiet with the business.
But now Cora was desperate.
She dialed the home number for Ed Kilpatrick, the operations manager. It was 5:15 a.m. Ed usually started at 6:00 a.m. Maybe she’d catch him at home. He was accustomed to early calls from the guys in shipping.
“Hello.”
“Ed, this is Cora.”
“Hey, Cora, what’s up?”
“Sorry to bother you at home.”
“I was on my way in. What’s going on?”
“Have you heard from Lyle since he left for California?”
“No. Is something going on?”
“Some people had been asking about him over the weekend.”
“Did you call him?”
“Yeah, but he’s not answering-maybe his phone or BlackBerry’s not working.”
“Could be-I don’t know. I sent him an email Friday on the new shipment deadlines for Zone Five. I need an answer by this afternoon, so if you hear from him tell him to call me. I gotta run. I’ll see you later.”
Cora drew her hands to her face and exhaled. Through her fingers she saw Lyle’s empty office across the hall and went to it. She scoured his calendar, his notes, anything for a clue. She searched his trash bin but the weekend cleaning staff had already recycled everything.
Her cell phone was ringing in her office.
Cora ran back to her desk.
“Hello?”
“Mommy!”
“Tilly!”
“Mommy, please help me!”
“I will! I love you! Are you okay? Where are you, sweetheart?”
The phone was shuffled.
“So you got free?”
“Yes. Don’t you hurt her!”
“Where are you? Did you find him yet?”
Cora recognized the voice of the man who had invaded her home.
“I’m at the office going through his desk! I’m doing all I can! Let her go! Please!”
“Find Lyle Galviera or we’ll release your daughter in pieces.”
The line went dead.
Cora stared at the phone, sank into her chair, dropped her head to her desk and sobbed. She hadn’t slept. She couldn’t think. She didn’t know what to do, or where to turn.
She fought to keep herself together.
She stared at her computer screen, vaguely remembering an item on drug wars in Mexico. It was a newswire story. She scrolled through the website. Here it was-from the World Press Alliance, a feature that profiled the people victimized by one day of violence in Ciudad Juarez.
She studied the byline.
