“Homicides, at least three, possibly more. They look fresh.”
“Any indication on the victims?”
“Three adult males, two appear to be in police uniforms. They could be our kidnappers with the Norte Cartel. It looks like we have additional body parts, two severed male heads. It’s really bad, Earl- I’ve never-”
Upon hearing the distant voices of alarmed cops, Gannon and Cora rushed from their car to Hackett’s.
“What is it?” Gannon leaned into the open passenger window.
“What did they find?” Cora’s eyes were rimmed with tears.
At that moment Hackett’s radio crackled with another dispatch from Larson as she fought to keep control of her emotions.
“I’ve never seen anything like this, Earl. Do not come in here. You do not want to see this!”
That transmission stole Cora’s breath. Hackett fumbled to turn down the volume but he had the radio with the loose swivel knob.
“What is it?” Cora’s eyes bulged. “What’s happened?”
Hackett shot a look to Gannon that demanded his help.
“We don’t know for certain,” Hackett said. “They’re assessing the scene.”
“Is my daughter in there?”
Gannon tried to pull Cora back to the car but she broke away, ran toward the hangar before he caught her. She fought him, battled furiously, refusing to surrender to the horror that awaited her while Gannon and Hackett got her back to her Pontiac Vibe.
Hackett radioed for an ambulance.
They opened the front passenger door, Cora sat sideways, her feet on the ground, staring inside her car, the car she drove Tilly to school in, the car they drove to church in, to the mall.
Then Cora stared at the hangar, shaking her head.
“It’s not true. She’s not dead. Because if she’s dead, it’s my fault,” Cora said. “She can’t be dead. Tell me it’s not true, Jack. You tell me my daughter’s not in there!”
“We don’t know, Cora.”
“Oh God.”
Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. She slid from the passenger seat to the ground, pounding the sand. Gannon slid to the earth with her, holding her as the dust swirled around them, as sirens wailed and helicopters hammered the sky. They stayed that way while investigators processed the scene.
There are times in your life when you think, this is it. Everything important ends here. Gannon thought it was all over, that day in the kitchen when he was eight. He’d never forget that look in his father’s eyes like something was lost. They’d wrecked his new car. All those overtime shifts he’d worked.
They’d taken something from him.
And Gannon thought it again when he was twelve and Cora, Mom and Dad were screaming at each other before she left. At first, all he felt was disbelief. Cora had to be kidding, she wasn’t really running away. But time passed, tightening on him like a vice, crushing him with the truth: Cora was gone for real. Gone for good.
He’d lost his big sister.
How would he overcome the blow?
He’d reached another ending when his parents died in the car crash and he watched their caskets lower into the ground.
He’d lost his family.
Then days ago, out of the blue, he received a miracle in the form of Cora’s call. Across a chasm filled with pain, he found the sister he thought he’d lost forever. He learned he had a niece.
But the miracle came with a tragedy.
Gannon was numb, oblivious to how long he and Cora had kept a vigil in the desert until Hackett tapped his shoulder.
“We’ve conducted searches of every building, Jack, and we have not located Tilly.”
Cora blinked as if staring into a pinpoint light of hope.
“That means she’s still alive?”
“There’s reason to hope so.”
At that moment, Gannon’s cell phone rang and he climbed to his feet and walked away to answer it.
“Jack, this is Isabel Luna. We need to meet immediately. I have information.”
“Isabel, this is a bad time. I can’t come to Mexico.”
“I’m not in Mexico. I am in Phoenix.”
“What?”
“I have information that is critical to your case. Tell no one about this call and come alone to meet me at this location. Do you have something to write with?”
“Isabel, you’d better tell me.”
“Jack, this is absolutely critical to your case. Do you understand?”
Gannon glanced around to confirm he was out of earshot.
“Okay, go ahead.”
69
Isabel Luna leaned against the airport rental she’d parked under the shady canopy of a pine grove near an abandoned mission that had been built by Franciscans in the 1800s.
She was about to check her watch again but saw chrome glint from an oncoming car. As it slowed to a stop, she saw Jack Gannon behind the wheel. She recognized his sister, Cora, from news pictures, in the passenger seat.
Gannon got out, uneasy as he scanned the isolated surroundings.
“Why are you here? What’s going on?” he asked her.
“Do you know where my daughter is?” Cora was desperate.
“This is my sister, Cora. Tilly’s mother.”
Luna nodded to her, but she was slightly annoyed at Gannon. She’d told him to come alone.
“Cora, this is Isabel Luna, the journalist I met in Juarez who’s been helping us.” Gannon’s attention went to Luna. “What’s the important information you have on Tilly?”
“A meeting has been arranged.”
“A meeting? About what? With who? Where?” Gannon looked to the few empty buildings next to the old church, now fearing that they’d made a mistake leaving Hackett at the airstrip.
“Please, if you know, tell me where my daughter is,” Cora pleaded.
Luna glanced around without answering.
“Isabel-” Gannon’s frustration was mounting “-we’ve just come from some very bad scenes to this godforsaken place. We don’t know where Tilly is or if she’s been hurt. Your call offered us hope.” Gannon again surveyed the buildings, bereft of life. “Why did you come here from Juarez? What’s going on? What do you know? If you don’t give us some answers, I’ll call the FBI, I swear, Isabel.”
Luna glanced at her watch.
“I’m sorry I have to be cryptic,” she said. “Please, come with me.”
They walked to the old church. Gannon saw fresh tire tracks in the sand near the front and sides, evidence of some sort of recent activity.
