“Go ahead.”
“One of my Mexican friends got word to me that she was taken from the Waru Hotel in Ojinaga at the same time as Cory. We didn’t even know that was where they were staying, we thought she was in Presidio and had left before then. So far, no one has visited the hotel to check for possible clues, and neither has law enforcement in Ojinaga.”
“Who is your friend who told you this?”
“You’re not gonna believe it, but an older guy I met in a bar, retired from the Chihuahua State Police. He was a sergeant.”
“And you trust him?”
“I think so. And he’s still got the instincts, everything’s clicking in his noggin, if you know what I mean.”
Hunter had a hundred questions about this, but she held them back and said, “So fill me in.”
“Because of what he did for thirty years, he can’t see things like a civilian, so he unofficially keeps tabs on things going on in his town, Ojinaga. He noticed the couple, a white man and Mexican woman, at the Waru Hotel, and walking around town, so he watched, staying aware they were in town but he didn’t dig into it. He and I had been casual friends for a couple months by then, so the trust was building between us. Anyhow, after he heard about Cory being murdered in Texas, he checked around on the woman and found that she was gone, poof, disappeared. So he dug deeper and found out that she’d been snatched off the street in front of the hotel, same as Cory. He kept watch and never saw anyone check the hotel where they were staying. Anyhow, I thought you might want to visit the Waru and see if they left anything lying around.”
“Like what, a big old clue?”
“Don’t be a smartass, but yeah, something that might let you know where she’s being held, well, if she isn’t already dead.”
“What’s the woman’s name, again?”
“Maria Garza.”
“I remember now, and your friend’s name?”
“He goes by Rudy. Last name is Gutierrez.”
“How do I find him?”
“You start looking around in OJ, he’ll find you. Don’t shoot him.”
“You ass.”
“If you need me, call on this phone. Good luck.”
The next two days were her regularly assigned days off, so she thought a trip to OJ might not be a bad idea.
Chapter 4
Ojinaga was one hundred degrees at eleven o’clock that morning and Hunter had her air conditioner on medium-high, barely keeping the heat outside the cab of her pickup. When she parked near the Waru Hotel and opened the door, it felt like an invisible pillow
of hot air dumped on her as pinpoints of perspiration popped out on her forehead and upper lip.
She looked around first, but other than people hurrying along the streets and slipping into air-conditioned buildings as quickly as possible, she didn’t see anything or anyone that caught her eye. A block ahead, the Waru had drinking customers at the outside bar, braving the heat but fighting it off with tall, ice-filled drinks of yellows, reds, and pale greens. As she approached, an older man sitting alone at a small round table noticed her. His table was closest to the street, a dozen feet from the next nearest one. He nodded and waved Hunter to the table. He had iron-gray hair and a matching Zapata style moustache. His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he said, “Hunter Kincaid?”
“Yes.”
“Bueno. I am Rudy. Would you join me?”
She did, and ordered a Pacifico beer while he sipped a margarita on the rocks. He said, “I hoped you would show. Art, he said you’d be here.”
“And here I am.”
“The woman you seek, her room is 216, but no one is there. Hasn’t been for days. I’ve been talking to people around town, some of my old contacts, to see what they can tell me on this incident.”
“Why the interest?”
“My town has enough bad press without adding kidnapping and more murders to it.”