THIRTY-ONE
The next morning, Jim Bob greeted Mandy Morgan as if she were a visiting princess. He opened his door for her, he escorted her to a chair in front of his desk, he offered her coffee 'I'm not drinking coffee anymore, caffeine is bad for the baby.'
— and otherwise treated her royally. He tried not to stare at her belly. There was nothing to see yet, but disaster was growing inside that belly. That being in her belly threatened everything Jim Bob Burnet had dreamed about and worked for the last twenty-five years of his life. That life threatened his life. He wasn't going to let this ex-cheerleader and her bastard baby ruin his life. He got right to the point.
'I'm prepared to pay you one million dollars.'
Her expression turned suspicious.
'To do what?'
'Abort.'
'No.'
'Mandy-'
'I wouldn't take a million dollars from Mr. Johnson for sex, and I'm not taking a million dollars for my baby.'
'John Ed offered you a million dollars for sex?'
'Yes.'
'And you didn't take it?'
'No.'
'Why the hell not?'
'I'm not like that. I know you think I'm just Bode's plaything, but I'm not. I'm a lot smarter than you think. I'm not having an abortion.' She pointed at Eddie sitting on the couch. 'And he's scaring me.'
Jim Bob turned to Eddie and nodded to the door. Eddie stood and walked out.
'Mandy, you been watching TV? What they're saying about Bode?'
She nodded. 'It's terrible.'
'Yes, it is. Don't you want him to be president?'
'Yes. And I want to be the first lady.'
Jim Bob stared at this girl and thought, What fucking world is she living in?
She was sixteen, and she made her living as a prostitute in Nuevo Laredo. She flinched when Jesse stuck the needle into her arm. Penicillin. She had worked in a maquiladora, but had been laid off when the factory closed and her job had been moved to Asia. She had no other skills. Now she had syphilis.
'I need to see you again in one week,' he said to her in Spanish.
She nodded, but recoiled when the door swung open and two armed men entered.
'No!' she cried.
Jesse stood in front of her and blocked the men.
'What do you want?'
'Her. She is puta.'
'She is my patient. Get out.'
The man pulled a gun and put the barrel to Jesse's head.
'No!' Lindsay screamed.
The other man now stepped close to the man holding the gun and said in a low voice, 'El Diablo, he put out the order. No harm is to come to the doctor. If you kill him, you will face El Diablo's justice.'
The man with the gun exhaled. His hand dropped. He turned and walked out. The other man followed. Jesse's hands were shaking. Lindsay came to him and put her hand on his shoulder.
'Jesse, are you okay?'
'I know I will die one day on this border, but I am very happy that this was not that day.'
'I thought the boss's official policy was abstinence,' Eddie Jones said. 'I guess only for school kids.'
'Funny.'
'I don't figure the boss is gonna get into the White House with a bastard child.'
Mandy had left, and Eddie Jones had returned to the sofa in Jim Bob's office.
'No shit.'
Eddie thought something was funny.
'These unforeseen, unexpected, unpleasant things are coming fast now.'
'No goddamn cheerleader is gonna take the White House from me.'
'I can make that unpleasant problem go away.'
'She won't get an abortion.'
'If she goes away, the baby goes away. I can make that happen.'
Jim Bob stared at Eddie Jones. He knew Eddie had a questionable past-shit, he worked in Iraq as a mercenary-but kill Mandy? From Eddie's expression, Jim Bob knew Eddie could kill her, dispose of her body, and then eat Tex-Mex for lunch without the need for a Tums. The guy was that cold. But was Jim Bob Burnet? How far would he go to save Bode Bonner's political career? And his?
'Let me talk to Bode, make another run at her.'
His insurance policy shook his head.
'Woman like that, only a bullet will change her mind.'
Maybe Eddie was right. In five months, 'William Bode Bonner' would be typed under FATHER on a birth certificate in an Austin hospital. Jim Bob Burnet could not allow that day to come.
'Rest assured, Eddie-Mandy Morgan is either gonna come to Jesus or meet Him.'
'Is Jesus in heaven?' little Carmelita asked her father.
In the white compound in Nuevo Laredo, Enrique de la Garza was reading the ingles to his ten-year-old daughter. She smelled of strawberry shampoo. Her mother used to read to her each night, but the task had fallen to her father.
'Yes.'
'I miss him.'
'I do as well.'
'Is the man who killed Jesus going to jail?'
'No, mi hija. He is going to hell.'
ONE MONTH BEFORE
THIRTY-TWO
Enrique de la Garza entered the chapel on the ground floor of his compound and dipped his finger into the font of holy water, then genuflected and made the sign of the cross. Each morning at eight he came into his chapel to pray and contemplate his life, to ask God for guidance and forgiveness, to confess his sins and receive the sacrament of Communion. He now walked up the short aisle to the altar rail where Padre Rafael awaited him, as he did each morning. Enrique knelt before him.
' El cuerpo de Cristo,' the padre said. The body of Christ.
Enrique turned his face up, opened his mouth, and extended his tongue. Padre Rafael placed the Communion host on his tongue. Enrique de la Garza accepted the true body of Jesus Christ into his own. He was supposed to confess his sins, venial and mortal, prior to receiving Communion, as he did each day. But he could not that day.
For his mortal sin was yet to come that day.
A 'come to Jesus' meeting, the Professor called it. Just like those evangelical tent revivals in the South
