Bad Moon Rising

I felt anger and frustration growing in me. We were close. “What color is the van?”

“I think it was a light blue or light green, something like that.”

“Did you get the license plate?”

“I try not to notice things like that. I’m taking a chance telling you this as it is.”

Hondo said, “Why are you talking to us?”

TJ said, “Couple reasons. I like Troy here, and if you can take those three creeps out of the picture, I won’t have to do something to them myself. They mess with my customers one more time and there will be a reckoning.”

I said, “One more question. Those two customers closest to us out there, what do you know about them?”

“Cartel Del Norte, you don’t want to mess with them. If you leave them alone, they won’t bother you.”

Derek said, “I haven’t heard of that one.”

TJ said, “That’s what Los Zetas call themselves now when they’re working in the states. The Cartel of the North.

I said, “We want the women back, that’s all. We aren’t looking for trouble.”

“I wish you luck.”

As we left, I noticed the two bad boys still in the bar. That made me feel better for some reason. I guess I was getting jumpy. Walking to the Navigator, Derek said to Troy, “Does Sylvia know about TJ?”

Troy stopped. “If you think I’m running around on my fiancé, I’m not. TJ’s father helped me out of a bad spot a long time ago. When he died, TJ started managing the bar. Been here ever since. I stop by occasionally to check and see how things are going.”

“Okay.” Derek said.

I said, “I have to ask, does TJ identify as a man or woman?”

“TJ’s happy with the way things are right now and doesn’t see any need to go to one side or the other.”

Hondo said, “As long as it makes TJ happy, that’s all that matters.”

I said, “Either way, TJ’s date is gonna need to carry a ladder around for them to kiss.”

We drove on to Mojave, passing through Barstow and turning left onto State Route 58. Fifty miles later we stopped at a McDonald’s in Mojave and grabbed some fast food. I wasn’t hungry, thinking about Amber, but I got a salad and water. We ate out of earshot of other customers so we could talk.

I asked Troy, “How well do you know this area?”

“Pretty well. I don’t come up here as much anymore.”

“Where do you think they might be holding Bodhi?”

“Where they’re doing business, I guess, so they can watch her.”

“Where do you think that might be?”

“In the poorer side of town, where the illegals are living.”

“Good enough,” I said.

We drove the town’s streets and it didn’t take long before Derek spotted a group of men gathered together at the corner of a vacant lot. He said, “These may be undocumented, and here looking for work. The contractors come by and hire them for the fields.” He exited the car and walked to the group. They seemed reticent at first. Derek turned on the charm and before long they talked all at once as Derek smiled and sat on the curb with them.

Five minutes later, he returned to the Navigator and slid behind the wheel, saying, “The one who spoke the best English said the caravan of women was here until yesterday.”

Troy said, “Did they see Bodhi?”