“Aw, that's sweet. Maybe later.” Esmeralda winked. “You don't have a clue where to find Jenny?”
“Not a one.”
“What about the bodies? Where are all the bodies from Fallen Oak?”
“The bodies...” Heather had to concentrate. The desire was taking over her brain as well as her body.
“Yes, Heather,” Esmeralda said. “Where are the bodies buried?”
“I'm...not really sure. They aren't buried, though. They're frozen.”
“Where?”
“Some kind of secure storage facility. I think it's around here somewhere, maybe a little outside Atlanta. I know the contract went to one of Nelson Artleby's companies. You should ask him.”
“The President's campaign adviser?”
“That's the one,” Heather said. “He took over the investigation. Whatever Homeland Security did, they did under his orders.”
“This is just what we're trying to find,” Esmeralda said. “Whether the White House is guilty of lying to Congress. The House oversight committee hasn't heard a thing from Homeland Security, except for their official reports about a chemical leak in some abandoned old factory.”
“Which is bullshit,” Heather said.
“Of course it is. That's why I'm here.” Esmeralda scrolled through a few things on her laptop. “Okay, that gives me some ideas about where to start. Thanks for coming and talking to me, Dr. Reynard. I'm sure I'll be in touch as the investigation continues.”
“Call me Heather. And just let me know if I can help...or if you just need someone to talk to...or a place to spend the night...”
Esmeralda raised her eyebrows, and Heather blushed.
“Thanks so much, Heather,” Esmeralda said. “You're very helpful.”
Heather squirmed in her seat as she gazed at the girl.
“You can go now,” Esmeralda said.
“Oh, sorry! Of course.” Heather stood up. Esmeralda shook her hand again, holding it for a long moment, and Heather had to resist the temptation to draw her close in an embrace.
Heather hurried home and immediately stripped down and took a long, warm shower. It took a couple of hours for her fever of desire to finally break, and when it did, it left her feeling confused and a little ashamed. Heather had really never been attracted to other women, not that way. She wondered what it was about Esmeralda that made Heather crave her touch so badly.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jenny woke to shouting voices from downstairs, and the sound of a woman screaming.
It took a second to get her bearings—it was late, probably long past midnight. She'd gone to bed after a late dinner with Alexander, somewhere around nine or ten o' clock. Late dinners were common here. So was a fantastic thing called a “siesta” where people napped through the hottest part of the afternoon.
Jenny dressed quickly, pulled on gloves and boots, and ran out of her room and down the back stairs. She followed the screams out to the front hall, where the front door stood open. Alexander and one of his men, Raul, stood just outside. Raul had his AK-47 off his shoulder and in his hands, and he nodded while Alexander spoke in rapid Spanish.
“What's happening?” Jenny asked.
Alexander hurried inside and embraced her. “We have a security situation. You should go back upstairs. I don't want you to see this.”
“See what?” Jenny looked around his shoulder to the open door.
“They were on their way back from Zinacantan,” Alexander said. “Someone strafed their truck. We think one of Toscano's men.”
Jenny took a second to process this. Toscano headed the Juarez cartel, the chief rival to Papa Calderon's Tijuana-based cartel. And Zinacantan was the home village of Kisa and her family. She and her brothers had gone home to visit for the week.
“Did they hurt Kisa?” Jenny asked.
Alexander looked at her for a moment, frowning. “Jenny...”
“I want to see her!” Jenny pushed her way past him and ran for the open door.
“Wait!” Alexander shouted.
“If someone's attacking us, I can help,” Jenny said. She didn't stop running.
Outside, one of the trucks idled in front of the house, one headlight glowing. The windshield and one side of the truck were stippled with gaping bullet holes, and one tire was flat.
Noonsa leaned against the truck, staring into the flatbed. The old woman was screaming and crying. She had stayed at Alexander's compound instead of visiting home with her niece and nephews.
“Raul was barely able to get the truck home,” Alexander said. “By the time we found them, it was too late for a doctor.”
Jenny ran across the wildflowers of the front yard to the battered, slumping truck. She looked at Noonsa, who covered her face with her hands, sobbing. Then Jenny looked into the back of the truck.