They angled up the narrow trail on the side of the mesa near the house, and when she reached the undercut ledge of hard limestone at the top, she stopped a moment and replaced several rocks that had rolled loose from the Indian burial site there. The dogs waited patiently, but their tails wagged with pent up excitement. She said, “Go ahead, I’m coming.”
The dogs made soft woofs and raced up the remaining six feet to the top of the mesa. Mona followed as the two Great Danes sniffed the area for their favorite nemesis, the long-eared jackrabbit hiding behind a small creosote bush ten yards in front of Marlowe.
Mona put the thermos on the metal table and sat in the lawn chair beside it. She kept the furniture on the mesa for watching the desert sunrises and sunsets. Those were two of the things best about the desert, and they were when she did her deepest thinking. Steam rose from the poured coffee as the horizon gradually lightened to a blushing peach.
The dogs were enthusiastic but ineffective sniffers, and searched the mesa with their heads low to the ground. The rabbit, evidently tired of their inability to find it, hopped out so Spenser and Marlowe could see it. The dogs went stock still for a second, then shot forward. The rabbit zipped and dodged left and right around greasewood, ocotillo and cactus, leading the dogs on a pace that kept it tantalizingly close, but just out of reach.
They ran all over the long mesa top until, when the rabbit got bored, it kicked in the afterburners and left the dogs panting and bewildered, like it had done every time for the last year. The dogs loped to Mona with their tongues hanging out, and plopped down beside her. She scratched their ears and two tails thump-thump-thumped the ground, “Good dogs,” Mona said, “Good brave dogs, driving off that bad old jackrabbit.”
Mona took another sip of the Jamaican Blue Mountain. Her favorite morning coffee, and this morning she needed it. The bits of chatter last night on a little-used frequency had her restless. It was solid evidence. Big new trouble was here in the border area. She rested in the chair, thinking about how to proceed, whom to tell, what precautions to take in case they had their own people who could locate her.
The local law enforcement agencies should be notified, but Mona had to make sure the information wasn’t leaked, or the people she had heard would be gone.
If Lee were still alive, that would be the first choice, but with him gone she was hesitant. There was the Texas Ranger in Alpine, but she had only met him once and didn’t have a good read on him. The DPS state troopers she knew, but not well enough for this kind of heavy information. The FBI or CIA…not yet. The Federales in Ojinaga were out, because she didn’t know the new Commandante. That left The Border Patrol, and the people with Customs and Border Protection who worked the international bridge. And that meant Kincaid, Flores, DeCocq, or Huffman, the ones she knew the best. The more Mona thought about it, the more hesitant she was to involve any law in this right now. She scratched both dogs’ ears and said, “You have any ideas?”
Spenser huffed a soft woof. Mona looked at Marlowe, “What about you?” Marlowe pushed his head under her hand for more petting, “Okay, as long as you both agree. I’ll contact Sam.”
***
Sam and Miguel arrived at Mona’s four hours later. Mona led them to the large, covered patio, where she had an ice-filled pitcher of sun tea on the table. Condensation covered the pitcher and lines like snail tracks marked the sides where droplets slid down the glass to the table. “Help yourselves. Its sweet.”
Sam poured two glasses and handed the first one to Miguel. “Sorry we couldn’t get here sooner, but Miguel and I were out at the ranch feeding stock and fixing water lines. Not a lot of fun doing it at night so the bad boys don’t see us. We finished up at daybreak, just a little before you called.”
Mona said, “I can’t imagine doing
it at night. That’s too tough for me. You boys are lucky you didn’t get snake bit, or hurt some other way.”
Miguel said, “I have many espinas, how you say, thorns?”
Sam said, “We’re both punctured pretty good in the shins and hands. Some of those black plastic water lines had been dripping from leaks for a while, and every kind of cactus you can name was thick in each patch of wet ground. I guess I’ll remember to check for leaks a little more often in the future.” The breeze shifted and both Sam and Miguel smelled it.
Mona noticed and said, “I couldn’t ask you out here just for a glass of tea, so I’ve been cooking ribs on the grill.”
“I’m not cheap, but I can be had. I think you found my price.”
“They’ll be ready in an hour, so that gives us time to talk.”
“About what?”
“ISIS is here on the border.”
For the first thirty minutes, Mona told them about what she heard, and what her suspicions were. For the next thirty minutes, Sam attempted to talk Mona into telling everyone in law enforcement. She told him what would then happen, since she had no names, no locations, except Ojinaga and Juarez, no targets, and no weapon or weapons identified. If everyone knew, word would leak. The terrorists would vanish like morning mist only to reappear someplace else, possibly several years later, and finish what they planned.
Sam said, “How do you know?”
“From personal experience.”
Sam shook his head. “If the law’s not involved, what can we do?”
“I want your opinion, Sam, on how to proceed. I can’t gather everything from the airwaves.”
“For more information?”
“Yes, until we can give the FBI, or whoever, something more to go on.”
“So they won’t get away.”
“Exactly.”