Ryan
It’s hard to play it cool when I know there’s a ton of dirty cash hiding in our garage. So many thoughts have been running through my mind since I found it. Paul is either getting bribes from Los Reyes del Norte or Las Calaveras, the two major cartels taking over the border.
I’m sitting at the breakfast table with the entire family when Paul blabs about getting some intel on the newest Mexican cartel, Los Reyes del Norte.
“They’re buying up real estate in Texas,” Paul says. “Lots of it.”
“Don’t you have to be a US citizen to buy property?” Mom asks.
“Nope. Any immigrant asshole can buy US property with the right funds,” Paul tells her.
“Any asshole citizen can buy US property with the right funds,” I counter.
“Speaking of assholes, did you have any run-ins with the cartels when you crossed the border, Ryan?” Paul asks me.
“No.”
PJ and Allen snicker as if they’ve got some private joke.
“Really?” Paul cocks his elfin head to the side. “Because you were in Mexico for a few weeks and they’re recruiting a lot of kids your age. And then you get beat up like you were involved in some kind of drug deal gone wrong. You didn’t hear anything about them?”
I look him straight in his beady eyes. “No, Paul. I haven’t heard anything about them. Why do you keep asking me the same question?”
“Maybe because we think you’re a pathological liar,” PJ chimes in.
Instead of making him stop asking me stuff or defending me, my mom just zones out.
Paul puts his fork down and sits back. “There’s about to be a power shift between the Las Calaveras, who have been in control for years, and Los Reyes del Norte, the dangerous new cartel taking over territory in the north,” Paul says. “We’ve got intel on the inside and they’re telling us that the recruiting has gotten insane.”
“You sure do know a lot about ’em,” I mumble.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shrug. “Just sayin’ that you’re pretty well informed. Must be nice to have inside intel.”
Paul pointedly looks at me as if I’m one of the enemies. “The bad guys always lose in the end.”
“Good,” I say, then add, “Anyone who cheats the system needs to go down.”
He furrows his brow, as if my words trigger him somehow. But he keeps a straight face, even kissing my mother before heading to the station.
Last night I went through every scenario on what to do with the money Paul has stashed in his garage. Stealing all that money to buy Dalila a large piece of land in Mexico would make my dream come true, but then I’d be no better than Paul. I can’t go to the police, because I don’t know anyone at the station who’d bring Paul down. He’s the dictator at the Loveland police station.
When he leaves for work, I pull out the old business card Max Trieger gave me with his contact info on it. My heart is beating fast as I dial Lance’s number.
“Lance Matthews, US Border Patrol,” the guy answers in an authoritative voice.
“Yeah, um, I was wondering if I could meet with you.”
“Who is this?”
I swallow, hard. “Ryan Hess.”
“Sheriff Blackburn’s son?”
“Stepson.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“Not really. I just have some information and wanted to meet with you.”
There’s a hesitation on the line. “Information? What kind of information?”
“I can’t say over the phone. I need to meet you in person. And I need you to keep it confidential.”
“I’ll be at the border station in Loveland at two o’clock today. Come by then and we can talk.”
“Sounds great. Thanks, Officer Matthews.”
I hang up and head over to Lone Star Boxing Club, because I can’t do this alone. I need my one-man crew.
Pablo greets me the second I walk into the club. “Hey, Ry, how’ve you been? I’ve been thinkin’ about you and wondering how you’ve been holding up.”
“Life’s been crazy,” I tell him. “I need you to do me a favor, Pablo.”
“Sure, Ry. What do you need?”
“I need a crew, and you’re it.”
I’m not going it alone this time. When Pablo comes to my house, I show him the money.
“Damn, Hess,” he whispers as he peeks his head through the break in the garage wall. “There must be over two million in there.”
“I need you to get rid of it for me,” I tell him. “If you get caught—”
“I’m not afraid of anyone. Crooked cops piss me off.”
With Pablo on board, we secretly load the cash onto his truck. After hauling it away and making a plan of what to do with it, I stand in front of him and shake his hand. “Thanks, man. I couldn’t do this without you.”
“Despite the color of our skin, we’re bros with fuerza, Hess. Thanks for trusting me. I mean it.” I turn to leave when he calls out, “I think you finally found your cause. I’m proud of you.”
After leaving Pablo, I head over to the border patrol station to meet with Officer Matthews. I walk up the brick steps into the place feeling like my entire life has led up to this moment.
Lance recognizes me right away. He’s sitting on the edge of one of the desks lined up in the middle of the busy station. He’s a good-looking guy, with dark, straight hair combed neatly to the side.
“Thanks for meeting me, Officer Matthews,” I say, feeling completely awkward and nervous.
“Not a problem, Ryan.” He motions for me to sit in the chair across from his desk. “Sit down.”
I look around at the crowd of people in the room. “Can we talk somewhere private?” I’m not about to out the town’s sheriff as crooked in the middle of the entire border patrol station.
“Sure,” he says. “Follow me.”
He leads me to a back room, away from everyone else. I’m immediately on edge as I realize this is an interrogation room. It has one table and two old, metal chairs. I’m aware that there is no camera or recording equipment in the room. A window with blinds overlooks the rest of the station, so anyone can look in and see us. The door automatically locks as we enter the small room, making me feel claustrophobic.
I briefly wonder if this is a good idea, or if I just put a nail in my coffin. If I’m wrong about Officer Matthews I might as well be handing myself over to the enemy.
Officer Matthews takes a seat opposite me and leans forward. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Ryan. Are you in trouble?” His words are kind and not judgmental, reminding me of Max Trieger.
I focus on the handcuffs secured in his belt and the gun at his waist. “No. It’s nothin’ like that. What if I found cash that I suspected was connected to the cartel?”
“How much cash are we talking about, Ryan? Hundreds? Thousands?”
“More than that,” I tell him. “A lot more.”
He takes a long, slow breath as he sits back in his chair. “Max Trieger was investigating Las Calaveras and their connections here in Texas,” he says. “He said there was a money trail, but he wouldn’t share the specifics with me. He kept me in the dark.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew the closer he got to figuring it out, the bigger the target on his back.” He shakes his head slowly, as if remembering his beloved partner’s doomed fate. “The son of a gun wanted to protect me. He was like a brother to me and there’s not a day goes by when I don’t want to get revenge for his death.”
“What if I could give you—” I glance through the blinds covering the window and my entire body goes numb as I see Paul walking into the station with a furious look on his face. “Why is Paul here? Did you tell him I was comin’ here?”
“No,” Officer Matthews says. “Did you tell him you were coming to see me?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Officer Matthews stands. “Wait here, Ryan.”
He walks out of the room, leaving me alone. I would book it out of here, but the door suddenly opens again. Instead of Officer Matthews, it’s Paul. He storms in front of me with a menacing scowl. “Where’s the money, Ryan?” he says in a low voice so nobody else can hear. We’re in a soundproof room, but I’m sure he doesn’t want to take any chances.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
He grabs the front of my shirt and twists it in his fist. “Tell me where you put my fucking money or I will tear your fucking heart out,” he growls through gritted teeth.
“If you do that, I don’t think you’ll get your money.”
“Oh, yeah?” He lets go of my collar and steps back in an attempt to compose himself. “Let me tell you somethin’, you piece of shit. If you don’t tell me where the money is right now, I will destroy everything important to you.”
“That’s not really a threat,” I tell him. “You should know by now that I have nothin’ of value for you to destroy.”
“Oh, really? What about Dalila Sandoval?”
I stand violently, my chair scraping the floor as I get in his face. “What do you know about Dalila?”
“I know everything, Ryan. I know you were livin’ in Sevilla at that run-down boxing gym and I know you were with Oscar Sandoval’s daughter the night before you got the shit kicked out of you. You think you’re so smart, don’t you? You know crap, Ryan.” He points to his chest like a gorilla marking himself as the alpha. “I’ve been a cop on this border since before you were born. I know everyone and everything on both sides. Give me that money, or that pretty girlfriend of yours is as good as dead.”
Every emotion I’ve ever had rises to the surface now as I get in his face. “If anything happens to her, I’ll kill you. That’s not a threat, Paul. That’s a fact.”
“The fact is she’s as good as dead. Just like our dear old Max,” Paul says in an eerily calm manner as he takes out his handcuffs. “Oh, and by the way, you’re under arrest for threatening an officer.”
“You’re a crook,” I tell him. “I’m going to tell them you’re crooked.”
“Nobody will believe you, Ryan,” he says, amused. “You’re a bad seed and I’m the beloved sheriff of this town. Don’t fuck with me. You won’t win.”
He pushes me hard up against the wall, attempting to handcuff me. He’s not strong enough to overpower me, though, and I end up grabbing the handcuffs and twisting them so I cuff one side on the table leg and the other around his wrist.
While he’s screaming at me, I knock on the door. Officer Matthews opens it, wide-eyed as he focuses on the scene in front of him.
“What’s going on here?”
“Ask the crooked sheriff over there,” I tell him, then rush past him and run as fast as I can out of the station. I don’t want Paul manipulating the border patrol or the police to arrest me for something random in an attempt to shut me up and peg me as a troublemaker delinquent. I wouldn’t put it past him to frame me.
I run through town knowing I’m finally done with the life I lived before this moment. I might be alone, but I’m not scared. I have a purpose, and that’s to make sure Dalila is safe. I call Mateo and tell him to meet me across the border, then run as fast as I can to get there.
Crossing the border into Mexico isn’t a problem, even though I feel all eyes are on me, waiting to arrest Sheriff Paul Blackburn’s wayward stepson who’s gone rogue.
After crossing, I breathe a sigh of relief as I catch sight of Mateo’s uncle’s red pickup truck. I quickly settle into the passenger seat. “We have to go to Dalila’s house,” I tell him. “She’s in danger.”
“She’s not there,” Mateo tells me.
“Where is she?”
“Nobody knows. She’s missing.”