Disappeared Page 16

  “I wanted to talk to Emiliano and you …”

  “I know what Emiliano will say.”

  Emiliano. Sara’s straight-arrow brother. Her Jipari. Sara also knows what he would want her to do.

  She goes to her room to charge her phone and retrieve Agent Durand’s phone number. Mami goes into her room as well and closes the door. As Sara changes into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she hears the murmur of her mother’s prayers.

  Agent Durand answers on the first ring, as if he was waiting for Sara’s call. She reads him the address and directions that Ernesto gave her.

  “I know the area. I’ll set it up,” Agent Durand says. “There’s a special commando unit within the Mexican army that we work with. The commander will want to do some initial surveillance to see what he’s up against, but then they will move quickly, maybe as soon as daybreak tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow. Linda might be free tomorrow. That thought alone makes all the sadness of the day seem worth it.

  “There’s something else,” Sara says. “After we talked last time, I went back to the office and found the envelope with Hinojosa’s cell phone.”

  “What? Where?”

  “In my boss’s office. She had it in a desk drawer.”

  “Juana Martínez? The woman you introduced me to when I visited El Sol?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does she know you have it?”

  “She was in a meeting when I took it and probably will be there for another couple of hours. Did I make a mistake in taking the envelope?”

  “Oh, goodness. You’re asking me that? No, that phone will be very helpful to law enforcement. I can only imagine all the connections it will reveal between Hinojosa and other corrupt officials and the cartels. So no, I don’t think it was a mistake. But … as far as your own personal safety, you have to move fast and find a safe place. They’ll be coming for the phone as soon as they figure out you have it.”

  Sara sees the goose bumps on her arms. She never imagined that fear could make a person cold. She forces herself to speak. “Ernesto, my friend from IT who’s been helping me, is coming to pick it up. He thinks one of the Jaqueros can open it.”

  “I think that’s a good plan. Let the Jaqueros deal with the phone. They can do things we can’t legally do, and they’ll know what to do with the information. It’s also safer for everyone if the Jaqueros have the phone. No one will ever find them. Except your friend Ernesto is—”

  “In danger. He knows. He’ll disappear as soon as he gets the phone.”

  “Good. I’m going to put you in touch with Estela Gómez, a friend of mine. She’s in the State Police, but not in Hinojosa’s division. There are a lot of good people in the State Police and Estela is one of them. You can trust her. She’ll find a place for you to stay. I’ll call her now and then you call her soon, okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you, Agent Durand. You … you’re the only the person I could think of … to help me.”

  “Thank you, Sara. Be careful. Follow Estela’s instructions. Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye.”

  Sara tears a page from a magazine on her desk, writes down the name and number that Agent Durand gave her, and sticks the paper in the pocket of her jeans.

  She hears a noise outside her window, like a motorcycle, only not as loud. She opens the curtain, expecting to see Ernesto, and instead sees Emiliano on one of those scooters that she’s seen in movies about Rome, only this one has his rusty trailer attached. What is he up to? She watches him dismount and take the scooter to the backyard, looking at it admiringly as he walks. She runs to the kitchen and gives him a huge hug as soon as he opens the back door.

  “Whoa, whoa, what’s gotten into you?” Emiliano gives her a couple of little pats on the back. Then, when he manages to pull away, he asks, “Why have you been crying?”

  “Who’s been crying?”

  “You. Those purple puffy circles under your eyes.” Mami comes out of her bedroom, and Emiliano walks past Sara to give her his usual kiss on her forehead. “You’ve been crying too. What happened?”

  “Do we have time to eat?” Mami asks Sara.

  “Not much. We need to leave as soon as Ernesto comes.”

  “I’ll make something. We can take it with us if we need to. Sit down with your brother and tell him everything.” Mami points at the kitchen table and then walks to the refrigerator.

  “Tell me what? Where do we have to go?”

  Sara pulls out a chair for Emiliano and waits for him to sit. Then she sits in the chair next to him. Emiliano’s face hardly ever reveals what he is feeling, but as she speaks, she can see the blood in his face slowly ebb away. She doesn’t know how long she talks. It could be five minutes or an hour. She reports all events and all conversations without any editorial comments or conclusions. When Mami puts two plates with eggs and beans in front of them, Emiliano ignores it and continues to listen without asking a single question. Now and then Sara can see his Adam’s apple move quickly, as if he’s having trouble swallowing the significance of her words.

  “I’m sorry,” Sara says. “I’m so sorry for doing this to your life.” She puts her hand on Emiliano’s arm. He stares at the untouched food on his plate.

  After a few moments of frozen silence, Mami speaks. “There is nothing to be sorry about. What you did had to be done. Do you agree, Emiliano?”

  Emiliano pushes his plate away and exhales. He speaks with a sadness Sara has not heard in his voice since the day Papá’s divorce papers arrived at their house. “Do you think all of our lives are in danger?”

  Sara answers as gently as she can. “I think we should all lay low for a couple of days. We’ll see what happens. All I know for sure is that it’s not safe for you and Mami to be in this house right now.”

  She waits for him to reply, but Emiliano only stares at the plate of cold food.

  “We’ll figure something out,” she says, trying to console him. “We should all go pack for a couple of days. I’ll call the woman that Alejandro Durand told me to call.”

  He snaps his head upright and looks at her with a burning intensity she hasn’t seen before. He starts to say something and then stops himself.

  “What?” Sara says.

  Emiliano’s eyes are slowly turning red and his nose begins to run. Sara reaches for a napkin and hands it to him.

  “Tell us,” Mami says softly.

  He puts his elbows on the table and grabs his head. “What’s there to figure out? We can’t stay here anymore. You can’t work at El Sol. Mami can’t work at the bakery. Where are we going to live? What about my school?”

  Sara wants to reach out and touch him, to tell him somehow that she understands all he’s losing, but there’s nothing she can say. She looks at Mami, hoping she might have words that can help her brother.

  “Emiliano.” Mami’s voice is firm and strong. Whenever she uses that voice, Sara and Emiliano know that whatever she says is the final word on the subject. “What your sister did was right. Do you understand? I’m talking to you.” He lifts his head and looks at her. “What Sara did was what God wanted her to do. It’s what God would want you to do, or me if we were in her place. Whatever sacrifice we need to make, we make as one. Now we all need to go pack some things.”

  Mami lifts herself slowly from the table. Emiliano and Sara stand as well. Sara gives Mami her arm and together they walk to Mami’s bedroom. Sara does not look at Emiliano. She’s afraid of the heartbreak she will see in his face.

  At the door to her bedroom, Mami asks if Sara will lend her her phone. “I want to call my sister Tencha. She’s closer to God than anyone I know. She needs to pray for us.”

  Sara brings her the phone and shows her Aunt Tencha’s number. “Just press that,” she tells her.

  “Sara,” Mami says, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Yes, Mami.” Sara kisses her mother’s forehead and closes the door. She takes a deep breath and returns to the kitchen, wher
e Emiliano is standing over the sink, deep in thought. Sara puts her arm around his shoulders.

  “We’re in this together, Emiliano, don’t forget. The one thing we have to do through all this is stay together. Right?”

  “Right,” he says, not looking at her.

  “Sit for a second.” She sits at the table, hoping he’ll do the same.

  He rubs his eyes but stays standing. “I don’t want to lose all I have,” he says, exhaling.

  Sara supposes that by “all,” he mostly means Perla Rubi. “Call her,” she says gently. “Tell her you won’t be in school for a couple of days, that you need to help your stupid sister who got some threats for something she wrote. Buy a little time. We need to figure out a way so all this doesn’t mean the end of your life as you know it.” He nods and smiles—a very small smile, but it’s something. Sara changes the subject. “What’s with the new transportation?” She points at the backyard.

  “I’m expanding my folk art business. A friend loaned me the scooter.”

  “Is this related to the fancy car you were driving last night?”

  He turns to look at her with a how did you know expression.

  “Mrs. Cardenas called Mami.”

  “Kind of,” he says.

  Sara has a bad feeling that his “kind of” is more complicated than he’s letting on. “Emiliano, maybe what’s happening is good for all of us, for you too, in a way that we can’t see at the moment.”

  He reflects on her words for a few seconds. Finally, he says, “What’s Mami doing?”

  “She’s calling Aunt Tencha, getting the prayers started. You know, of course, that the reason all this is happening to us is because you turned agnostic.” She smiles. The agnosticism is an old battle in their house.

  “I’m about to start believing again,” Emiliano says, another small smile on his face. He stands. “I think I better call Perla Rubi.”

  “And pack some things.”

  “And pack some things. We’ll figure it out,” he says, touching the top of her head. She knows that’s Emiliano’s way of letting her know he still loves her. He walks into his room and closes the door behind him.

  We’ll figure it out, we’ll figure it out, Sara repeats to herself.

  What exactly they need to figure out, other than where and how to live the rest of their lives, she has no idea.

  Emiliano closes the door to his room, leans back against a wall, and slides down to the floor. He feels as if someone snatched something precious from his grasp just as he was about to grab it.

  Would he do what Sara did? It’s the right thing to do; it is. It’s just, why him? Why now? He spent hours last night thinking about the choice he had to make. He made the choice that was best for everyone, and he was at peace with it. Javier was on board. He sealed the deal with Armando not more than an hour ago. He rode the Vespa home, pushing it to 110 kilometers per hour, the wind whipping his face and the future open before him. And now? Why does he feel like the whole damn thing is unfair?

  Emiliano, think of Linda. What if she’s still alive? Think of the danger your sister is in. This is no time to be selfish, son.

  “You have no right to preach to me about selfishness.”

  Emiliano doesn’t mean to speak out loud, but he does. He reaches for his fake Bible, opens it, looks at the money, and then closes it. Linda gave the Bible to him for his fourteenth birthday. But her best present was the one she gave him last year, a week before she disappeared.

  Emiliano gets on his knees, opens the left-hand drawer of his desk, and takes out his Swiss Army knife. How did Linda know he wanted the one with the small compass on the handle? He sits against the wall again and moves the compass around until the needle points north. She gave it to him at the very end of a surprise party that Sara orchestrated with Paco’s help. He remembers the delight on Linda’s face after he opened the box and looked up at her. It was perfect. Another perfect gift. How long did she save before she could afford to buy him the knife?

  You see how Linda thought about you, Emiliano. Shouldn’t you think about her now?

  Emiliano tucks the knife in his pocket. There must be a way to make sure that Sara is safe and still salvage the life opening up in front of him. Sara says that Mami is calling Aunt Tencha in León, which means that Mami is asking Aunt Tencha if they can go live with her. But Sara and Mami won’t have jobs, and what his father sends is not enough, so they’ll need him to work. He will have to convince them that the money he brings in from his folk art business is the only way to survive, which means he will need to stay in Juárez. He won’t tell them about Alfredo Reyes.

  Why, Emiliano? Think about why you won’t tell them. There’s a reason why you’re ashamed of your association with Mr. Reyes.

  Emiliano goes out to the kitchen, where he dropped his backpack when Sara hugged him. He gets his cell phone, comes back to his room, and sits on the floor again. There is comfort down here that cannot be found higher up. He places the cell phone next to him and closes his eyes. He has to make this conversation count. He goes over in his mind what he is going to say. My sister is in trouble. Someone is threatening her life on account of something she wrote about the Desaparecidas. I need to be with her, make sure she’s safe. Something like that.

  He taps Perla Rubi’s name on his phone.

  Perla Rubi picks up on the first ring. “Emiliano! I was hoping it was you. Are you home?”

  The sound of her voice, her concern for him, rips his heart. “I’m home.”

  “How was your day?”

  “Good. Very good.” Up until a few minutes ago.

  “You never told me what you were going to do after you left me. How did you spend the afternoon?”

  “No? I thought I did when I saw you this morning. I was following up on the business with your father’s friend. And you? How was the game?”

  “We lost.”

  “You lost? To Sacred Heart? How did that happen?”

  “I missed four serves. Two went into the net and two out of bounds. The girls blamed you.”

  “Me?”

  “For showing up before the game and rattling me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. I think I spent most of the day thinking about you, about us.” Her voice is almost shy.

  That right there, that joy he just felt, is what is being taken away from him. There is no avoiding it. “Perla Rubi, something’s come up. With my sister, Sara.”

  “What? You’re scaring me. Is she okay?”

  He’s not going to be able to hold it together for too long. This has to be a short conversation.

  “I can’t talk right now. My sister’s life has been threatened because of her work at El Sol. We’re trying to figure out what to do … so that she’s safe. I’m not sure I’ll be in school on Monday. I might be out for a few days.”

  “Oh, Emiliano. What will you do?”

  “We’ll be all right. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  “Okay. But where will you be?”

  “I don’t know right now.”

  “I can talk to my father. He can help.”

  “I think it’s better if he’s not involved. The people who are threatening Sara are bad people. Tell your father I talked to Armando Cortázar, the son of his client, and that I’m going to follow his advice.”

  “Be careful,” she says with tenderness.

  “I will.”

  “Good-bye, Emiliano Zapata.”

  “Good-bye, Perla Rubi Esmeralda.”

  Emiliano places the cell phone on his lap. He reaches up, turns off the light to his room, and then curls up on the floor, his hands over his ears.

  Sara goes around her room opening drawers, staring at the contents, closing them. Does she pack for two days or for a lifetime? On the other side of the thin wall that separates their rooms, she can hear Mami’s voice. She can’t make out what she’s saying, but the urgent tone tells her that the conversation with Aunt Tencha is more than just a re
quest for prayers.

  Three years ago, when it became certain that Papá was not going to return, Aunt Tencha pleaded with Mami to move to León, where they could all live with her. Aunt Tencha is a widow. Her daughter, Gracia, lives in Mexico City and her older son in Monterrey. Mami could get a job in one of the many shoe factories of Léon, and there was a three-bedroom apartment for rent in Aunt Tencha’s building. But Mami said no. Emiliano had his school, and the Jiparis were just bringing him back to life. Sara had her internship at El Sol, which they hoped would become a permanent job after she graduated. They have never regretted the decision, but it looks like they might end up in León anyway. Sara tries to remember what the city is like. She was twelve the last time she visited with Mami.

  Suddenly, the door opens and Mami rushes in. She holds out Sara’s cell phone. “It started ringing as soon as I hung up. I hit the little green phone and heard a voice. It’s Ernesto from work. He says he needs to speak to you right away.”

  Sara takes the phone from Mami, who stands next to her, an anxious look on her face.

  “Ernesto?”

  “Sara, you and your family have to get out of your house right now!”

  “What?”

  Ernesto is breathing hard, as if he’s running. “I checked Juana’s activity on her computer from my terminal just as I was leaving. She sent an e-mail to that ‘jeremias’ address—you know, the one on the threatening e-mail. She told them you took the phone and gave them your address. Lupita must have told her you opened the drawer. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that people are on their way to kill you. Go. Run! I have to hide too.”

  Sara has the sensation of falling, as if an unknown trapdoor has suddenly opened beneath her feet. “Ernesto …” she manages to say.

  “I don’t think I can make it to your house to pick up the phone. I’m going to give you a secure e-mail address where you can contact me. Find a way to e-mail me there at three p.m. tomorrow. Do you have pen and paper?”