I took a deep breath.
I was going to give myself two days.
Two days to find out what happened to her. And if I could, then I’d deal with it. I’d give myself whatever closure I could.
But after that?
I was going to let it go. For Elizabeth. For Lauren. And for me. I was going to leave that part of our lives behind. We had Elizabeth back. We were never going to be a family if I kept bringing the past into our current lives. We had to move forward in order to heal.
I took another deep breath, inhaling the scent of the ocean.
Two days.
THIRTY THREE
I was awake nearly the entire night, trying to figure out what I could do with my remaining two days. Everything that came to mind ran back to the initial bust in Imperial Beach. I’d talked to one side of that deal, but I hadn’t talked to the other side.
The cartel.
I wasn’t sure how to get to them, though. I thought about asking Lasko, but I was already feeling guilty about how far I’d dragged him into the entire mess. I appreciated his help and I knew I’d owe him, though I doubted he’d ever ask for repayment. But I didn’t want to push him so far into the abyss that his career imploded.
So as I dragged myself out of bed at daybreak, I turned to the one person I knew could get things done.
“Mr. Tyler,” John Anchor said on the other end of the line after one ring. “Good morning.”
I poured coffee from the pot into my mug. “Good morning. I hope I’m not calling too early.”
“It’s never too early.”
I wondered if he ever slept. Or if he was some sort of robot.
“How was Phoenix?” he asked.
“Phoenix was good, I guess,” I said. “I spoke to the woman. Thank you again for that.”
“My pleasure.”
“And I’m wondering if you might be able to put me in contact with someone else.”
“In Phoenix?”
“No,” I said and I laid out for him what I was looking for.
“It’s the Tijuana organization?” Anchor asked when I was done.
“Yes.”
“Can I put you on hold for just a moment?”
“Sure.”
The line buzzed quietly and I imagined Anchor paging through his contacts, seeing if he had a phone number for the leader of one of the most violent drug cartels in the world. I wasn’t sure which would be better – if he had it or if he didn’t.
He was back on the line within a minute. “I apologize for the delay, Mr. Tyler. I had to check on something.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Anchor said. “Setting up a meeting like this requires some…coordination.”
“I understand.”
“It also might be at a moment’s notice,” he said. “There might be a short window of time.”
“That’s fine.”
“And, again, Mr. Tyler. I want to be clear that…”
“I know, John,” I said, cutting him off. “I appreciate the favors I’m asking for here and I will be happy to return them in kind.”
“Forgive me,” Anchor said. “I don’t mean to be insensitive. I just want to make sure we’re clear that it’s business.”
“Completely understand.”
And I did. I knew that I was selling my soul to the proverbial devil. I had no idea when Anchor might come calling for repayment or what he’d need me to do. But I knew the stakes. It wouldn’t be a surprise. It was a trade-off I was willing to make if it got me what I wanted.
“Thank you,” Anchor said. “For your professionalism.”
I wasn’t sure that’s what it was, but he could call it what he wanted.
“I need to make a few calls,” Anchor said. “I also think it may require having someone from our organization accompany you. Trust can be an issue sometimes with these kind of things. I assume you have no objection to that?”
“None,” I said. “I’ll do whatever’s needed.”
“Excellent. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”
We hung up and I set the phone back on the counter. I stared at it for a moment.
It was going to ring at some point in the future and it was going to be Anchor. And he was going to ask me to do something I most likely wouldn’t want to do and I wasn’t going to be able to say anything but yes. It wouldn’t be a choice. It wouldn’t matter that I wouldn’t like it or feel comfortable doing it. I’d already agreed to do whatever was asked. A dangerous way to do business.
I looked at the phone again.
I hoped I knew what I was doing.
THIRTY FOUR
I opted for my run instead of breakfast and did a slow thirty minutes along the water, the ocean shrouded in fog, my legs just as tired as the rest of my body. The fog made the air feel wet, almost like running through a cold shower, and as I turned up my street, I couldn’t tell what was sweat and what was morning dew on my face and neck. I crossed the pavement and wiped my shirtsleeve across my face, rubbing at my eyes.
A dark red sedan was parked in my driveway and I could see a figure through the tinted driver’s side window. As I approached, the car door opened and Agent Blundell got out, pushing sunglasses off her face and looking my way.
I didn’t rush to reach the driveway and she closed the door just as I got there. “Mr. Tyler.”
I nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“Nice morning for a run,” she said.
“Not really.”
“Cool, at least,” she said. “I can’t stand running in the heat.”
I shrugged.
“How’s your daughter?”
“Fine.”
“Yeah?”
“We’re figuring it out.”
Her hands were clasped in front of her. “Your wife, too?”
“Yep.”
“Why didn’t you go to Minnesota with them?”
I smiled. “Keeping tabs?”
She leaned back against her car. “My job.”
“Is it?”
“Investigation is still open,” she said. “You’d know that better than anyone.”
“How’s that?”
“You’re still looking.”
“Am I?”
She finally returned my smile. “You are.”
“Why are you here?” I asked.
She looked around the neighborhood. “You wanna go inside?”
“Not really.”
She unclasped her hands and folded her arms across her chest. “What do you know?”
“I know that I don’t why you’re here.”
“I’m still working Elizabeth’s disappearance,” she said, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “And I know you are, too. I thought we agreed to share information.”
“I don’t think we ever agreed on anything. But do you have something to tell me?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Not really. But I hear you’re knocking on all kinds of doors.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“In my ear,” she said, frowning, tired of the cat and mouse conversation. “What do you know?”
“So much for sharing,” I said. I reached down, unlaced my running shoes and pulled on the tongues, loosening the shoes. I stood up. “Pretty sure it was from inside my old department.”
“Coronado?”
“Yeah.”
“Highly doubt that,” she said, shaking her head. “I would’ve gotten wind of that a long time ago. Even a rumor, I would’ve heard it.”
I shrugged. “Okay.”
We stood there looking at one another.
“That’s it?” she said, holding her hands out like she couldn’t believe it.
Of course that wasn’t it, but I was irritated that she would just show up and expect me to share what I knew when she wasn’t sharing a damn thing. And part of me was seriously pissed off that, for years, I hadn’t seen a single agent show up at the house to talk to me or to Lauren. Elizabeth’s case may have been open, but they hadn’t treated it like it was. But now that she was back and the media had brought the case back to the forefront, Blundell and her colleagues were all hot and bothered to supposedly figured it out.
Yet they seemed to want me to do all the work.
“I need a shower,” I said. “I’m going inside, Agent Blundell.”