And now the mysterious American had come and gone, had appeared and disappeared in the space of less than twenty-four hours, and he had taken himself out of her life.
With everything else that had happened today, she did not really understand why she cared.
She had the family prepare to leave. The six of them would pile into Eduardo’s big F-350 Super Duty. Her father began packing, her mother shuffled into the kitchen to begin getting together food and drinks, and Diego took the truck up the street to fill it with gas and to add some oil.
Elena rested on the couch, and Ignacio went out back to smoke and drink.
The phone in the living room rang for the first time since the family had returned home. Elena answered the call.
“¿Bueno?”
“Good afternoon, Elena. How is the family?”
“Who is this?”
“My name is Daniel.”
Elena sucked in air before speaking. She recognized the voice. “Daniel de la Rocha?”
“At your service. We did not meet formally today. I didn’t get to meet your husband formally, either. Such a pity about Eduardo.”
Elena was breathless now. “I . . . I saw you get shot.”
He laughed. “Señora, if your tough husband, trained to murder by the gringos, could not do me in, do you really think it would be so easy to kill me? No, there is not a scratch on me.”
“Why are you calling me? What do you want?”
“I’ll tell you what I want. You won’t like it, but I’ll tell you. I want your baby. For the crimes of your husband, your son must pay. You give me your child, and you can have your life. I will no longer threaten you or your family.”
“My baby? You will kill my baby?”
“Yes, but it is not so bad. Listen, I will make it very easy. You can go to a doctor, and I’ll talk to them and explain the situation. They will take care of you and just take from you what I want. If you do this, you can spare your own life, the lives of the rest of your family who made it out of the Parque Hidalgo this morning, and you can save the lives of everyone who tries to stop me from taking your baby. Your mysterious gringo included.”
“You want my . . . child? Are you mad?”
“I am far from mad. I am a reasonable businessman. And I am extending you a limited-time offer. Agree now or you will regret it.”
“You are insane. Leave me, my family, and my unborn son to grieve for all that you have stolen from us!”
De la Rocha’s urbane tone changed, turned acidic. “Listen, bitch! Your husband tried to take from me! His life did not pay me back for the trouble he caused. His life was not worth the shit on my shoes! You give me that baby or I will kill every—”
Elena Gamboa slammed the phone down, brought her hands to her face, and emitted a shrieking cry. Laura took her sister-in-law in her arms and hugged her tightly. Began praying aloud standing right there in the living room.
“God, protect us!”
The front door opened and together the women turned towards it. It was Joe, the American. Stunned, Laura stammered in her confusion. “Did you . . . forget something?”
He nervously shifted from foot to foot. “I can just watch over you tonight. Tomorrow if things haven’t cooled down yet, I can hide out back in Eddie’s boat if the cops come.”
Immediately, Elena told him of the call from de la Rocha. Luz, Ernesto, Diego, and Laura all surrounded Elena while she spoke. Court’s jaw muscles flexed when the pregnant woman relayed the drug kingpin’s demand for the life of the unborn child.
“Why?” he asked. “Why the kid?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because he is Eduardo’s only offspring.”
“His legacy,” Court said softly, shaking his head. “This prick is from another fucking century.” He thought for a few seconds. “You need to run. You need to get the hell out of here right now.”
Laura said, “We are going to Tepic. We have a friend there; he is a prominent attorney. He can—”
“No,” Court said. “No friends. The Black Suits can track you to any friend who lives nearby. You need someplace out of the way, someplace where you can just disappear for a day or two while we figure out who is on your side.” He hesitated. “If you can think of someplace like this . . . I’ll come along, just to make sure you get there.”
Ignacio scratched his huge belly and looked at Court. “We have cousins who have a place in Mazatlan. We can go there.”
“No. No friends, no family.”
Laura stepped in. “I know a place.”
“Where?” asked Gentry.
“It’s an old farm high in the Sierra Madres, three or four hours from here, depending on the roads. Owned by my late husband’s family, but they are old now, and they moved away to the city. As far as I know, the hacienda is unoccupied.”