him to do now?
The original plan had been to bring her out to the ranch for a special party before she was disposed of. But with all four men set to be there, delivering her might mean delivering trouble too. It wasn’t Hector’s job to offer opinions so he simply asked whether or not he should continue as ordered, or whether the plan should change. Zapatero had told him he would call him back.
At the end of the call, Charlie asked, ‘Everything okay?’
Hector smiled. ‘Sure. Everything’s fine.’
He glanced into the rear-view mirror to see the girl sitting awkwardly in the back. His cell phone rang.
‘Her attendance is no longer needed,’ Zapatero said, and hung up.
Over the years Hector had received many such calls. The language was always oblique. Not once had anyone ever told him to kill or maim someone. Instead they had told him to ‘deal with the situation’ or that a particular person was ‘no longer required’. The words were corporate, and unemotional. It left no doubt about what was expected and Hector had never been troubled by the task, but as the horrors had stacked up, his ability to block them out with alcohol or drugs had diminished.
He snuck another glance at Charlie and an idea took hold in his head. What was that phrase about two birds and one stone? Perhaps it was time Charlie Mendez was forced to confront the consequences of his actions and clean up his own mess for once.
Fifty
In the back seat, Julia knew she had to escape before they reached their destination or she was dead. Since her kidnapping, when anyone had spoken Spanish to or around her, she had played dumb and pretended not to understand what was being said. The truth was different. Though she was far from fluent, she could broadly follow a conversation. And she could certainly pick out enough words to work out that Hector had just discussed whether she should live or die.
Sitting alone in the back seat, she had already tried the door. It was centrally locked, with no way of overriding it from where she was. Her only chance, she figured, was to cause some kind of distraction, and find a way to make them pull over. But it couldn’t be obvious, like pretending she had to pee. It had to be something from left field that would throw them off balance. Her mind flashed back to her childhood and road trips with her parents.
Leaning slightly forward in her seat, so that neither Charlie nor Hector could see her, she jammed the index and middle fingers of her right hand into her mouth, forcing them down her throat until she began to gag.
Fifty-one
Startled by the sound of retching, Hector twisted in the driver’s seat, just in time to catch the vomit as it arced from back seat to front. It splashed on the side of his face. His foot tapped at the brake as he piloted the Escalade to the side of the road. Next to him, Charlie must have caught some too because he exclaimed, ‘Jesus Christ,’ as Julia retched again.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled.
Hector brought the Escalade to a complete stop and turned to assess the damage. The Escalade would have to be cleaned. He could do it when they got to the ranch.
Charlie swiped at the vomit on his jacket. ‘Jesus, that’s disgusting,’ he said, opening the passenger door before Hector could stop him.
‘Where are you going?’ Hector asked.
Charlie shot him a you’re-only-the-help look and kept going. ‘To get some air. It freakin’ reeks in here.’
‘Can I get some air too?’ Julia asked, eyes pleading.
‘No,’ said Hector, firmly. In the seconds of confusion he had forgotten about the vehicle that had been following them. Now, as he checked the mirrors, he couldn’t see it anywhere. Something told him it had kept going, driving past when he had stopped, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe it hadn’t been following them after all. If it was someone who intended doing them harm surely they would have taken this opportunity.
‘Stay where you are,’ he said, and clambered out to retrieve Charlie. He slammed the door behind him and clicked the key fob to lock it. Let Julia suffer the stench.
A chill desert breeze caught him off guard. Charlie was standing a few feet at the back of the Escalade, hands cupped protectively around the red tip of a cigarette as the wind bit at the tobacco. Hector took a moment to study their surroundings. There was traffic, but not much. Maybe one car passing in either direction every forty seconds or so. He could see the city lights in the far distance. There was a metal crash barrier, and beyond that scrub desert. He glanced up into the night sky. A full moon hung high overhead.
He peered down the road for the RAV 4 or any other vehicle that might have stopped but there was nothing and no one. He walked to the back of the Escalade and repeated the procedure as a bus whizzed by on its way home from a maquiladora.
No one would stop. Hector knew that much. If someone broke down here it was their hard luck. It wasn’t only men such as him who were paranoid. It was the defining feeling on this side of the border. Good Samaritans had long since been snuffed out. A car at the side of the road would only be approached by someone looking for trouble.
This was his opportunity. The girl’s sickness had been a signal. He turned to Charlie. ‘Finish your cigarette.’
Charlie took a long final drag and crushed the butt under his heel. He started back towards the front passenger seat but Hector blocked his path with a meaty arm. Beyond the crash barrier the ground sloped down for about seven feet before levelling off and extending into the distance.
‘Wait down there,’ Hector said, with a nod towards the open ground.
Charlie stared at him. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
‘It’s not what I’m going to do, Senor Mendez. It’s what you are going to do.’
Fifty-two
Julia watched as Hector walked back towards the car. He stopped at the rear passenger door. She tried to read his expression but it was impossible. He had one of those faces.
He started to open the door and her heart began to thump a little harder. This would be her chance. He was letting her out so he could clean the inside of the vehicle. All she needed was his back to be turned for a few seconds and she would run. If she could get over the barrier and down the slope before he had a chance to draw his weapon she had a chance to get away. If Charlie was still outside the vehicle she would have to make sure she was a good ten feet from him when she made her break. That would be enough. She ran every morning — at least two miles. She wasn’t the fastest but she had enough pace to put some distance between them, and she had stamina, which she doubted either man possessed. Hector was strong but out of shape, and Charlie was only good for catching girls he’d drugged.
It was only when the door was open and she caught the look on Hector’s face as they made eye contact that she knew he wasn’t planning to clean the interior. He was letting her out so he could kill her. His face betrayed him: it spoke of shame and regret in equal measure.
Her mind racing, she shuffled along the seat, swung her legs out and emerged from the Escalade. She needed distance, a few metres between herself and Hector, but he stayed close. Glancing over, she saw Charlie, hands at his sides, his fingers drumming against his legs in agitation. He must know as well.
She would have to play along. If Hector suspected she knew, her fate was sealed. He would put a bullet in
