Williams and Culebra both look to me for the answer. Trouble is, I don't know. Max has never mentioned magic in his dealings with Martinez. And it's not a subject I'd be likely to bring up. I shrug and let them know.
Williams shifts restlessly from one foot to the other. "Well, I don't see that there is anything more we can do here tonight. I need to get back. Anna, do you want to come with us?"
Before I answer, I look at Culebra. He nods that I should go, that he will be in touch soon.
Still, I'm uneasy at the thought that Culebra might go after Burke on his own. Only when he assures me that he will not attempt it, do I agree to leave.
Besides, he adds, there are many I sent away who need to be called back. I jeopardized their safety as well as my own. I have much to make up for.
That Williams picks up on. We'd better go before your compadres start reappearing. His tone is mocking. I'm sure I'd recognize one or two. Probably on that same poster that features Burke back at my headquarters.
Culebra's reply is equally curt. Probably.
Frey decides to go back the way he came to Beso de la Muerte—in animal form. Stephen asks if Frey would like company.
Ihave so few opportunities to run free, he says. There is no moon tonight. We can make it to town before daylight.
Frey agrees and they shed their clothes, leaving them in a pile that I pick up and promise to deliver to Frey in a day or two. They make the transition with an almost gleeful abandon. Stephen's other form is wolf and the two waste no time, disappearing into the darkness beyond the saloon, the wolf's bay of farewell hanging on the air long after they are out of sight.
For a moment, I envy their freedom.
Williams motions to me that it is time to go. He says nothing to Culebra. Ortiz is just about to precede us out the door when he stops, head tilted.
"A car," he says.
I hear it, too, approaching fast. There is only one narrow road in and out of Beso de la Muerte. The tension level ratchets up a notch. It's a very good bet whoever or whatever is on its way in is not a friend. The unspoken consensus between us is that it's better to stay our ground and meet the stranger on familiar turf than try to beat him out of town.
Williams and Ortiz take positions beside the bar, Culebra in front of it. I step near the door and off to the side, ready to fling myself at the intruder if necessary.
With an intense single-mindedness, we listen as the car nears. It stops outside the saloon and a door opens. There is a pause, as if the driver is deciding on a course of action. Then footsteps echo on the wooden planks and the saloon door swings open.
Foley steps inside. He is neither alarmed nor apparently surprised at seeing San Diego's chief of police standing in the middle of the ruins of a ghost town saloon. His gaze sweeps in a lazy arc to take us all in.
When he spies me, he smiles. "Well," he says, turning back to Williams, "you do keep the strangest company."
Foley's air of self-assured nonchalance takes some swallowing. I feel the hair stir on the back of my neck, a flush of rage sends adrenaline pumping. I want nothing more than to ravage that smile off his face. He acts as if he doesn't see the dead woman lying in front of him on the bar or the man beside her who hung on a cross over his head not an hour ago. Instead, he stares at Williams with the defiant posture of one who believes he is in control.
Surprisingly, Williams lets him get away with it.
Instead of attacking, Williams meets Foley's gaze with a frown. "What are you doing here, Agent Foley?" he asks, his tone reflecting only mild curiosity.
Foley's smile never waivers. "I could ask you the same." He waves a hand. "But I will tell you. I came for Anna."
"In an official capacity?"
He shrugs. "If it needs to be. I came to ask for her help, but I can make it less pleasant if I have to."
"You have no authority in Mexico, Agent Foley."
"Neither have you."
God. Another pissing contest. They're so busy marking their territories, they forget that the object of the conversation is standing right here. "Would you like to tell me what it is you want?"
Both Foley and Williams turn abruptly in my direction.
I deliberately step between them. "What do you want?"
"It's not so much what I want," he replies. "It's what I can give you."
I raise an eyebrow. "I can hardly wait to hear this. What can you give me, Foley?"
"Max," he says. "I can give you Max."
CHAPTER 37
“YOU HAVE MAX?" I SHAKE MY HEAD AT FOLEY. "Right. And you called Burke a drama queen?"
He starts to open his jacket, but, as one, Culebra, Williams, Ortiz and I all take a menacing step toward him. His hand freezes. "Easy. I have something I want to show Anna, that's all."
Williams motions for him to go ahead. "Slowly."
He continues in theatrical slow motion to reach into an inside jacket pocket. What he pulls out is a picture. He holds it out to me.
I take it from his outstretched hand and turn it over. The image is dark, as if taken inside a dimly lit room. But the central figure is clear. It's Max. He's bound and gagged and lying on a bed. His eyes are open. Not fixed in death, but staring, aware. There is a newspaper on his chest. Yesterday's San Diego Union-Tribune.
I swallow back panic and the rising tide of anger. I raise my eyes to Foley. "Where is he?"
Foley shrugs. "I really don't know."
I take another step toward him. "You just said you had him."
He holds his ground. "Well, in point of fact, Martinez has him."
"So you admit it? You're working for Martinez?"
He looks around. "No use denying it. There's nothing any of you can do about it." He focuses on me again. "But if you agree to come with me, Martinez promises to set Max free."
Williams moves so that he is between Foley and me. "What kind of game are you playing? Why would Martinez want Anna? Max is the one he thinks betrayed him."
"Can't answer that one, either."
But I can. Martinez is seeking payback for what happened to his family. I know there is no chance that he will free Max with or without me. I know Foley knows this, as well. But I have a decided advantage in this game. I open my thoughts to Williams.
Iwill go with him.
Williams' shoulders bunch. No. I won't permit it.
YOU won't permit it? That he would even say that to me has my skin crawling with disgust. There is nothing for you to permit.
Think, Anna. It's a trick Max is already dead. You know that.
But there is a chance that he is not. I'm willing to take it. I can take care of myself. I doubt Martinez has supernaturals on his payroll.
Culebra's voice interrupts. I can help. I can follow Anna as my other self.
Williams snorts. Rattlesnake? How do you propose to follow them in that form?
Tire treads. Dirt roads. I have done it before.
And what if Foley crosses the border? Takes paved roads? What then?
I call upon other animals. I have many friends in this part of the world.
Williams is unmoved. No.
It is not your decision. My voice cuts into the dialogue. I will go with Foley. Culebra will do what he can. I am not afraid.
During this exchange, Foley shifts impatiently from one foot to the other. He does not know what is passing between the three of us. I suppose he thinks I'm debating just how far I'm willing to go for a man I supposedly love.