Nova says nothing.
“Where did you fly out of, anyway?”
“Monterey.”
“You were in California?”
“Why do you sound shocked?”
“Because a week ago you were in D.C.”
“Yeah, and you were in D.C. a week ago, too. Now you’re in Mexico. What’s your point?”
“Nothing. What took you out to California?”
“A road trip.”
“You’re joking.”
“What—I’m not allowed to go on a road trip?”
“You never struck me as the road trip type, is all.”
“Yeah, well, something tells me we’re about to go on a road trip of our own. How far are we going?”
“Three hours from here, give or take.”
“What’s there?”
“Hopefully some answers.”
“Holly?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t be vague. I’ve had a long couple of days, as I’m sure you have. I’m tired and I’m cranky and I want to know why I’m here.”
I toss him the keys.
“Then let’s go. You drive, and I’ll try not to doze off while I tell you just what kind of shitstorm I’ve created this time.”
Forty-Four
We take the highway north all the way up to Colotlán, and as we drive, I tell Nova everything.
I tell him about the raid on Ernesto Diaz’s house and finding the woman and children hiding in the closet. I tell him about taking the woman and the children up the coast where I left them by that abandoned brick building, and then returning later to find dark smoke pouring out the door and the three charred bodies inside. I tell him about meeting Gabriela and I tell him about La Miserias and Fernando Sanchez Morales. Finally I tell him about the snuff film uploaded to La Baliza for the whole country to see.
Nova says, “Jesus Christ.”
I say nothing.
“It’s not your fault, Holly.”
I say nothing.
He glances at me to see if I’m still there. I tilt my face to look back at him.
He says, “I’m serious. I know how your mind works.”
“Oh really. And how does my mind work?”
“You left the woman and the children at that abandoned building. Where this Devil character apparently showed up and burned them alive. And because of that, you feel responsible. Like you, I don’t know, took them to their deaths.”
I say nothing.
“And then there’s the town you told me about. How the narcos came in and killed the people at the wedding. The way you put it, the killings were retribution for Ernesto Diaz’s murder. Which, of course, you carried out. So again, you feel responsible for all those people getting killed.”
I say nothing.
“And then there’s your friend Gabriela and her grandmother. Shit, Holly, do I really need to keep going?”
When I tilt my face this time, I glare back at him.
Nova just shakes his head and says, “You can’t blame yourself. I mean, hell, of course you can blame yourself, but you shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why shouldn’t I blame myself?”
“Because it’s a waste of time. It’s not productive. You did the same thing when Scooter died.”
I close my eyes and shake my head, not wanting to think about the other member of our team who died less than a month ago.
“Don’t.”
“People die all the time, Holly. Shit happens all the time. That’s just the way it is.”
I say nothing, staring out my window now and watching the passing scenery.
Nova doesn’t say anything either. At least not for a couple of minutes, and then he asks a question.
“How old?”
I blink and frown at him.
“What?”
“You said those gangbangers who came to kill you at the apartment building—the ones the pimps sent—that when you realized they weren’t even eighteen you decided not to kill them. Okay, so how old would they have to be for you to place a bullet in their heads?”
I slump back down in my seat, my head against the headrest, and stare out my window.
“What does it matter?”
“I’m curious.”
“They were kids, Nova. I don’t kill kids.”
“No, they were teenagers. At least they sounded like teenagers based on what you told me.”
“Kids, teenagers—what does it matter?”
“Eighteen is considered the age somebody becomes an adult, right?”
I sigh but say nothing, just keep watching the scrolling scenery.
Nova says, “If this Devil guy were murdering the leaders of the cartels instead of their families, would you be so gung-ho in trying to stop him?”
I sigh again and roll my eyes at Nova.
“That’s a stupid question.”
“No, I think it’s a valid question. Just as valid as how old somebody needs to be before you’ll consider killing them. Christ, Holly, you said those two gangbangers had guns and were planning to kill you.”
“They were just kids, Nova. Amateurs. There wasn’t a moment I feared for my life.”
“Even amateurs get lucky sometimes.”
“Fine, what do you want me to say? Yes, of course it matters that this guy is murdering the wives and children of cartel families. That doesn’t sit right with me. Does it sit right with you?”
“Of course it doesn’t. But let me ask you this. If you could go back in time and kill Hitler when he was a baby, would you do it?”
I roll my eyes again and say, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Answer the question.”
“It’s a stupid question.”
“Is it, though? Almost six million people died in the Holocaust. You take Hitler out when he was a baby, maybe those six million people don’t die.”
“Or maybe somebody else takes his place and causes the Holocaust. Maybe even more people die. Did you ever think of that?”
He tilts his head back and forth, considering it.
“That’s certainly one interesting theory.”
“Nova, what’s the point of this?”
“Honestly? Just killing time. We’ve got another hour to go until we get to this town you want us to go to. Speaking of which, you told me about everything leading up to this point, but you failed to mention where we’re headed and why.”
“You know how I told you the men who killed Gabriela had uploaded the video to that website?”
“Yeah. It’s still not up, is it?”
“No. It was taken down within hours. But before it was taken down, I told Atticus I wanted to find out who runs
