We stood up and followed him out of the restaurant.
I whispered to Kia, “I told Bob’s dumb ass not to use his credit card to pay for the hotel.”
“I know. I don’t know why I listened to him,” she responded.
The fat man nodded at the people in the restaurant who were watching us as we walked out into the hotel lobby. Talk about embarrassing. Every eye in the place was on us.
“Is my dad upset?” I asked as we walked through the lobby.
“He ain’t a happy camper right now, that’s for sure. But I think he’ll be forgiving once I call and let him know I have you in my care,” he assured me. “I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry.”
“Okay, good,” I said as we walked out the door, though I was more than a little skeptical that this guy would have any influence over my dad.
LC
45
It didn’t take very long for Roscoe to accept the generous donation we offered in exchange for helping us find the kids. Within twenty minutes of us sitting down with him, every El Paso deputy, on and off duty, was looking for Bob’s van. Of course, now that word was out about my missing grandson, I had to worry that news might get back to KD. Time was of the essence.
“If they’re in this city, I guarantee we’ll find them by the end of the day,” Roscoe promised.
“I hope so,” I responded from the back of his vehicle. He’d offered to let me and Vegas ride along with him as he patrolled the area, asking around about the van.
Vegas sat up front with Roscoe. He’d been fairly quiet since our arrival, understandably. Nevada’s disappearance had everyone worried, but I was sure it was even harder for him to deal with as his father. I hoped for all of our sakes that Roscoe was right and we found him soon. Back home, Chippy and Consuela were losing their minds, threatening to hop on a plane to come search for Nevada themselves. That was the last thing any of us needed to deal with.
When I looked at my phone and saw Junior calling, I hoped it was good news, and not that his mother was on her way.
“Yeah, Junior. You all made it?”
“We just landed, Pop. I got another credit alert,” he said.
“Where?”
“There’s a charge at the Marriott Downtown El Paso.”
“Roscoe, where is the Marriott?” I yelled so he could hear me over the radio.
“About three miles up the road.” Roscoe looked at me in the rearview mirror.
“We need to be heading there. I think that’s where they are,” I said.
“See you in a few, Pop,” Junior said.
Roscoe radioed for backup, then turned on the flashing lights and sirens. Within seconds, another sheriff’s vehicle was right behind us as we sped down the road. I could see the tension in Vegas’s jaw and squeezed his shoulder to reassure him that everything was going to be okay.
By the time we pulled in front of the Marriott, there were two other cruisers already sitting out front with the official seal of the Texas Highway Patrol displayed on the doors. Roscoe parked directly behind them.
“Pop!” Vegas shouted, bolting out of the car.
I looked at the entrance of the hotel, and my heart was seized with fear. Nevada was being led out of the building by the man I found it hard not to hate—KD Shrugs. Because there was no handle on the rear door, I was unable to get out on my own.
“Open the fucking door!” I commanded. Roscoe quickly moved to open it, and I pushed it so hard that I knocked him backward.
“Nevada!” Vegas ran toward his son. He quickly found himself facing the barrels of multiple guns aimed at him. He stopped, raising his hands.
“That’s far enough,” Tyler Shrugs shouted.
Roscoe and I rushed to his side. Nevada, Kia, Tyler, and KD now stood between the two patrolmen who had drawn their guns.
“Dad!” Nevada yelled. He tried to run to us, but KD snatched him back. Seeing that man touch my grandson sent a wave of anger through me.
“KD, I’m telling you right now, get your hand off of him,” I warned.
“Calm down there, LC. I ain’t hurting the boy. Yet.”
KD’s evil grin turned my anger into pure rage.
“Let my son go right now,” Vegas yelled.
“Now, why in the hell would I do that?” KD taunted.
That’s when I saw the little .38 he had pointed in Nevada’s back. I could see Vegas pick up on this, and it was obvious he was about to make a move, guns or no guns.
“KD, let the kids go,” Roscoe pleaded. “We ain’t lookin’ for no trouble.” He really was trying to defuse the situation, but he didn’t have long, as a blue SUV pulled into the parking lot with Junior and the rest of my family.
“Roscoe, you was looking for trouble the minute they showed up and you didn’t call me,” KD chastised him. “I always knew you were slow, but now I’m starting to think you’re just plain stupid.”
“Let them go,” Vegas growled.
“I can’t do that,” KD replied.
“Why not?” Roscoe asked.
“Because these two young people are under arrest. Ain’t that right, Tyler? Now, we’re taking them into custody, and they’ll call you when—”
“Under arrest? For what?” Kia yelled. “We didn’t do anything.”
“Dad. Grandpa!” Nevada pleaded.
“Now, KD, you know just as well as everybody else you don’t have no jurisdiction to do shit. You ain’t the sheriff no more,” Roscoe told him. “I am. So let those kids go.”
If looks could kill, then Roscoe would have been a dead man after the dark glare that KD gave him. “Fuck you, Roscoe. Highway patrol supersedes your jurisdiction. Tyler, put them in the car.”
“That ain’t happening,” Vegas stepped up and blocked their way. Tyler pulled out his gun.
“Or what?” KD said.
“We should be asking you that.” Vegas suddenly smiled, raising his arms
