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“If you think of anything at all…”
“Of course.” He nodded. “I think about it.”
I spent a few hours in my room on my laptop talking to Chili about where Talya could have hidden our son.
“I have some calls out, to my boys in the south.” Chili’s presence over the video call was oddly comforting. He was my only link to my past life here, but the only part of that life I missed was Talya. “Something happened about a week and a half ago in Mexico City that sparked this whole witch hunt.”
“Mexico City?” I asked, and he grunted his confirmation. “Any idea what that was?”
“No, call it a sixth sense, but something happened. Mark my words. It’s ugly, too.”
“Yeah,” I dropped my head in my hand, “I feel that, too.”
“Let me dig. If there’s something to be found, I’ll find it.”
“I appreciate it.”
“You know I got you. Always have.”
“I know.” I gave a quick wave and closed my laptop. I glanced at myself in the mirror across the room. I looked worn out. The creases around my eyes seemed to have deepened overnight. I lost the woman I loved for the second time in my life. But now I knew we have a son, and I would move Heaven and Earth to find him. I just needed to do it before his grand-cartels did.
My phone buzzed.
C: ETA two mins
I grabbed my room key and headed downstairs to the lobby to meet the team.
Holy Spirit Parish was sprawled across the side of the white van that looked to be on its last legs. I swore it wheezed as it came to a stop in front of the hotel. Mark jumped out first, and I pressed my lips together as the rest followed. They looked like a group from a Florida senior citizen home out on a day trip.
I eyed Mark’s white boat shoes, pastel pink shorts, green button-up shirt, and cream fedora and had to squeeze my eyes shut so I wouldn’t laugh out loud.
“Paul!” Mark slapped me on the shoulder, looked around, then took a deep breath of sea air. “If I start talking about early bird specials in front of the staff, I’m pretty sure I’ll get a free dessert.” Mark lived for his tummy. It was just another scar from his past which we all understood.
John, who looked exhausted in his equally awful pastel outfit, shook his head at me. “Four hours in a cramped van, that’s a lot of Mark.” I chuckled and nodded in sympathy.
“A church van, hey?” I asked as Cole came around to join us. “Forget I asked.”
“We need to blend,” he grunted as Mark ran his finger along the brim of his fedora, feeling every inch of his new look. “For the record, the outfits were not my idea.”
“You sure about that?” I teased and mentally made a note. Savannah was going to get a kick out of that one. Cole’s white cotton pants and green palm tree shirt were finished off with a shell necklace. Nice touch.
“I’m pretty sure I’m one confession away from a sainthood endorsement.” Mark grinned, owning everything about his outfit.
Mike tossed his bag over his shoulder while he puffed away on a fat cigar. “Not too shabby.” He nodded at the hotel.
“You guys’ll certainly liven it up.” I smirked at how his tattoos clashed with his matching yellow pants, shirt, and shoes. I looked around for Keith. He was still inside the van’s open door. He seemed to hesitate to step out, and I soon saw why.
“Oh, shit.” I covered my mouth as he eased out in a pair of green cotton capri pants that showed his lily-white ankles above canvas sneakers. His pink polo had white alligators all over it, and he wore a rope bracelet.
“Not one fucking word.” He pointed at me. “Not one.”
“Some of us embraced the undercover look, and some of us did not.” Mark pointed at Keith and made a face.
“Watch your back, Lopez,” Keith snarled as he rushed past.
Mark grinned at me, clearly enjoying every damn second of it. “He’s just grumpy he didn’t get your outfit.” He handed me a bag, and I dropped it in horror like it might bite me. “The colors will compliment your skin tone.” He winked and tossed his head then joined the others at the front desk.
There was no fucking way I was wearing whatever was in there. I glanced at Cole for help, but he signed for me to go change. I flipped him the bird but did what he said.