For Devlin, the last twenty minutes of standing in the open air, waiting to take custody of her prisoner, had been brutal. Her Virginia-in-the-month-of-May blood was not ready for the sudden spike in heat and humidity. She tried fanning herself, but her shirt was sticking to her skin. Another ten minutes and I could enter the local ‘wet t-shirt’ contest.
Swiping at sweat beads below her hairline, Devlin stepped away from the Suburban and the heat radiating from the black vehicle. “So why aren’t we waiting inside the climate-controlled interior of,” she jabbed a finger at the Chevy, “that thing?”
“Because the handoff was supposed to be...” patting his brow with a handkerchief, Hawkins joined her, “quick.”
She glanced at the town’s citizens; half were meandering while the other half lounged in the shade, sipping beverages. Everyone here must have a different definition of the word ‘quick.’
He folded and put away the damp cloth. “We should have been on the road by now and heading back to the airport. What is it with this country? Everything seems to move at a snail’s pace.” Hawkins had come to Mexico a few times for work, and each visit had been the same as this one.
Devlin shot a look at her partner. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see your new little one. Things have been busy, lately.”
His mind showing him an image of his newborn baby, a boy, Hawkins smiled at a mother in the distance, carrying her child. “Yeah, I get it. Things have been crazy for Tasha and me too. She’s been great though. She knows I work long hours, so she gets up for the middle-of-the-night feedings.”
Devlin smiled. “Your wife’s a terrific woman.”
Hawkins snorted. “That’s an understatement.” He faced Devlin. “When this is over, let’s get together. I know Tasha would love to have you, Curt, and Cassie over for dinner.”
She nodded. “I’d like that too.”
The door to the makeshift jail opened. Mills and Chambers entered the daylight. They book ended a shuffling man; his ankles cuffed together, a short chain between the two. Another pair of cuffs secured his wrists near his stomach, while a second chain around his waist kept him from extending his hands too far.
Devlin eyed the man, matching his face to the one she saw in the file folder. Her eyes went to the captive’s clothing: a light-colored, short-sleeved shirt, khaki pants, and brown hiking boots. She had expected an orange jumpsuit and slippers. The Mexican officials had even allowed him to keep his black sunglasses.
The trio stopped.
Devlin removed the eyewear and handed them to Hawkins before squinting at the one in her charge, taking in his features—brown eyes below thick, black eyebrows that matched the dark beard covering tanned skin. “Mr. Patton, I’m Deputy Marshal Jessica Devlin.”
Patton looked away from the sun and blinked repeatedly.
She gestured. “This is Deputy Marshal Hawkins. We’re here to escort you back to the United States to stand trial for the crimes for which you are accused.” She took Patton by the arm and led him to the Suburban.
Chambers opened the right-rear passenger door.
After spinning the man a hundred and eighty degrees, until his back was to the Chevy, Devlin applied downward pressure to his shoulder. “Sit down and swing your legs into the vehicle.”
With her assistance, Patton complied.
“Keep going.”
He scooted left.
She got in and slammed the door.
The other doors closed, and the SUV sped away, heading for MEX-85, Hawkins on Patton’s left and Mills driving.
After attaching her prisoner’s safety belt, as well as her own, Devlin got comfortable in the seat. “Sit back and relax, Mr. Patton. We have a three-hour drive ahead of us.”
The man glanced around the vehicle’s interior and faced her. “What...no complimentary beverages or snacks?” Grinning, he rotated his head toward the agent on his port side. “This is the last time I use that fly-by-night travel agency.”
Hawkins glared at the man.
The smile left Patton’s face, as he leaned away. “Your partner’s not the fun one, is he? Let me guess. He’s the bad cop in this routine.” Patton came back to Devlin. “That must make you the good cop.”
She pushed him to an upright position and folded arms over her chest.
“Or maybe I lucked out and got two bad ones.” He filled his lungs and exhaled a loud, full breath. “So how about we play a game? You know...so everyone can get to know each other better. Plus, it’ll make the time pass quicker. Who wants to start?” He turned toward Hawkins.
Hawkins gritted his teeth, the muscles at the back of his jaw bulging.
Patton lifted a finger, “We’ll circle back to you, big man,” before facing the woman on his right. “Marshal Devlin?”
Her lips disappeared inside her mouth.
“I get it. Being the first one can be intimidating.” He shot glances at the agents in the front seat. His voice went higher. “How about either of you...care to share?”
Mills narrowed his eyes at the rearview mirror, delivering a gristly look to the chatty passenger.
“Wow. This is a tough crowd. Maybe we need to do a trust-building exercise first...” his chains clanging, he made circles with open hands, “you know...to create a safe space for talking.” His index finger went upward. “I got one.”
Mills eased his foot off the accelerator. “It looks like there’s an accident up ahead.”
Listing right and left, Devlin surveyed the scene: three mangled vehicles blocked a narrow stretch of the road, cutting off passage on either side.
Chambers unhooked her restraint. “Pull over. I’ll check it out.”
Devlin put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “No.”
Mills cranked his head toward the backseat.
Devlin met his gaze. “Drive back to Villa Mainero. There’s a road that leads out of town, to the north; it’ll get us to the highway.”
Hawkins inclined forward to see around the detainee. “How do you know that?”
She glimpsed him. “We had a few hours to kill...I studied a map of our route and
