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He studied the photo again, then looked outside, then back at me.

“They did that?” He pointed to my face, and I looked away to drive the point home that I wasn’t in a good situation.

“How anyone can hit a woman is,” he squeezed his eyes shut and I saw some compassion I wasn’t expecting, “sick.” He then opened his logbook, flipped back a few pages, and turned his back to me.

I quickly scanned the page and stopped at the letters, TC.

I traced my finger along the line and read room 402.

“She was nice.” He held out a key. “The baby was cute too. Never heard it cry the whole time.” He reached under the counter and set a cold water bottle and a prepackaged gas station sandwich in front of me. “It’s not much.” He shrugged.

“Thank you.” I felt my eyes water at how kind he was.

“Carlos.” He smiled. “Not many people come in and talk to me.” His posture stiffened, and I knew I was about to have company. “The pimps don’t like phones in the room,” he whispered, “but if you look in the closet in the back behind the towels, you’ll find one that plugs into the wall.”

“You’re a good man, Carlos. Thank you.” I snagged the key and stepped back as the driver of the truck walked through the door.

“Evening,” Carlos greeted him. “Heard you’re looking for some rooms.”

“ Sí .” He glared at me. Carlos handed him a key, and I noticed it was for room 408. I appreciated that he put them a few doors down from me. “We’re looking for someone.”

Carlos nodded. “Like I told the lady here, I know what room she was in, but that’s about it. She paid cash for two nights but only stayed one. I’m not in this business to ask questions. I just rent the rooms.”

The driver grunted and looked around. “You know what happens to people who lie to me?” He leaned forward and grabbed the front of Carlos’ shirt.

“Hey!” I stepped in to try to diffuse the situation. “I’m the one sent to ask the questions, and I’m doing it.” I glared at him and held up the key to the room. “Let me do my job. Stay out of it.”

The man’s face flashed with something evil, and I swallowed hard but kept my eyes glued on his. He let go of Carlos then reached out and grabbed my arm and dragged me outside. I caught a glimpse of Carlos’ terrified expression as we went by the stained window toward room 402.

“Let go!” I tried to wiggle, but he was strong. He nearly broke my finger when he snagged the key out of my hand to open the door. He tossed it on the table in the corner of the room and pushed me down on the bed.

I cringed at the spores that would have shot up from my impact on the mattress. I’d probably get an STD from the comforter. I could be a germaphobe if I allowed myself, but that kind of thinking didn’t work for someone in my profession.

He opened all the drawers, then the bathroom cabinet, but when he opened the closet I internally panicked. I needed that phone.

“I need to eat,” I blurted just as he was about to pull the towels down. “If you want me to do this, I will need to eat.”

He cursed and slammed the closet door. “Stay here.” He headed outside, and a moment later returned with a half bottle of tequila.

“Eat.” He chucked it at my feet then slammed the door behind him.

I rushed to the window and watched him pull a chair over to my door.

Then he dragged his half-drunk partner out of the back seat, and I heard him curse at him and point to the chair.

The guy stumbled over and sat in it. I continued to watch until the driver grabbed his bag and went inside the room Carlos had given them.

One look at the drunk in the chair with his head now slumped onto his chest and I knew it was safe to find that phone.

I raced over to the closet, pulled the towels down, and felt around for the phone. My fingers snagged a cord, and I pulled hard and caught both the base and the receiver before it hit the filthy carpet.

For safety precautions, I turned on the shower and sink faucet for some white noise. I plugged it into the wall and nearly sobbed when I heard the dial tone. It rang and rang until I finally heard the asshole’s voice. I started the timer on my watch.

“Can you speak freely?”

“Not for long.”

“Go.”

“Bruno Perez is alive.” I waited for a response, but nothing. “He found me and wants me to find some murdered woman’s baby. Whatever the hell it’s all about, I’m in the thick of it.”

“Location?”

“Mexico City. I’m in some dive motel?—”

“Who’s the woman?” He hated when I gave too many details.

“Her name was Talya Canos. There’s something about this baby that’s got a lot of people interested.”

“As in Jerry Canos’ daughter?”

I shrugged like he could see me. “I don’t know a lot about who’s who in the Canos family. You know I work the southern part of Mexico.” I wouldn’t pretend I knew information that I didn’t.

“I’ll look into it. Check in when you can, and get a phone.”

I rolled my eyes but knew we had only a couple of seconds left before we could be traced. “’Cause that’s easy.”

“Nicole?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t die.” The line went dead before I could tell him about Ben. It would have to wait until my next call.

“I’ll do my best.” I sighed as I unplugged the phone and put it back where it had been. Just as I closed the closet door, I heard a voice coming from— the bathroom?

“Hey, miss?” Carlos tapped on the small paned window, and I rushed to open it.

It slid over only a few inches, but it was enough that we could see each other.

“I’ve got something for you. I found it in her room after she left.

Not sure if it’s anything, but she was obviously on the run from someone.

Anyway, I kept it. Not sure why.” He slid a piece of paper and a map through the opening.

“The map’s from me.” I quickly unfolded the paper and read an address.

He’d circled where it was on the map. This man was gold. “I hope you find her.”

“Thanks Carlos. You just gave me another place to check out.” He smiled then stepped back to leave. “Hey,” I called, “I won’t forget this. Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“You too.” I closed the window and tucked the address and map into my boot in case I got company. I desperately needed a shower and took care to jam a chair under the doorknob before I undressed.

I tossed my clothes in the tub with me and stood on them as I scrubbed myself.

After a good ten minutes, I’d worn the bar of soap down to a nub as I got rid of the grime on my skin then did the same to my clothes.

I felt the need for food as my stomach grumbled, and my mind went to that prepackaged sandwich that was still back in the office. I decided it wasn’t worth the trouble.

Shouts drew me from a dead sleep, but as I got up to look, a huge explosion sent me into the wall. As I lay on the floor in a daze, I put my arms over my head to protect myself from the debris that fell from the ceiling. What the hell was going on?

Bang! Another explosion went off. It seemed to come from the room next door.

I army crawled across the floor, grabbed my bag and my clothes that I’d hung on the chair to dry.

Somehow, I wiggled into my damp shirt, jeans, and boots and shoved the rest into my bag.

I pulled out the tiny GoPro, Jack, my contact at the Washington Post , had gifted me a few years back and managed to get it in place.

His words came to me. You never know what you might catch when you’re not looking for it.

I crawled to what was left of the door and peeked outside. It was like a war zone. Dust hung heavily in the air and began to affect my lungs. I held my shirt over my mouth and nose as a filter.

Zip! Zip! Two bullets whipped by my head, and I ducked back into the room.

My heart beat furiously in my chest as everything inside me screamed at me to run.

I knew from experience that it was the worst thing to do.

I calmed myself and reassessed the situation.

I needed an exit plan. A blast from behind the garage bins decided things for me, and I bolted out the door into the open.

I stayed low as I raced across the parking lot, and just as I reached the truck, I was grabbed around the waist and flung to the ground.

“Pequena serpiente!” my driver hissed in my ear. “A dónde crees que vas?”

My adrenaline was at full throttle, and I used it to elbow him in the stomach, but he was ready for it and whirled me around, so we were face to face. “You think you can fight me?”

Zip! A bullet came from somewhere, and his body jerked, then he fell next to me. I didn’t waste a second and began to dig through his pockets for the keys.

“Fuck!” I shouted when I didn’t find them. Where the hell were they?

“Agárrenla!” a man shouted, lunging for me, but I threw him off, and I half stood and raced around to the driver’s side.

The touchy drunk guy lay slumped over the steering wheel with a bloody head.

I ripped open the door, tossed my bag over him, and pulled his lifeless body onto the ground.

I used him as a step stool to get in and slammed the door closed.

My heart leapt as I spotted the keys on the floor.

I managed to slide them in the ignition and got it into drive.

A man’s face appeared over the hood of the truck, and I froze as he pointed a gun at me.

“Drive!” Carlos jumped in the front seat and banged on the dash.

My foot tramped hard on the gas pedal, and I felt the bump as the wheels ran over him.

I spun the wheel and whipped the truck around.

I didn’t care who I came in contact with as long as I got the hell out of there.

Once I hit the road, I kept my foot hard on the gas to see how fast that truck could go.

“Holy shit!” I cried. “Are you okay?” I dared a quick glance at him. “Yeah, you’re okay.” My eyes filled with tears as I looked back at the nightmare behind us.

“Yes,” he nodded a bunch of times, “I’m okay.”

“Shit, we just dodged death.” I drove blindly until I calmed down and could think.

Carlos kept his eyes on the side mirror like he was watching something or someone I couldn’t see. It dawned on me that I didn’t know him at all, and with my luck, he was a Cartel member too.

“Do you know who those men were?” I cut him a side glance.

Carlos rubbed his temples then made an attempt to pull his shirt down over his belly. “Maybe, I mean…” He huffed as he tried to find the right words.

I didn’t have time for games. “Who do you think it could be?”

“I just don’t know if they’d be bold enough to cross territory lines. Maybe this is the beginning of a turf war,” he said more to himself. “Maybe this is so much bigger than I realized.”

“What is?”

“And now my home is gone and?—”

“Carlos!” I snapped. “We were almost blown up back there. Tell me what you know so I can be ready if we’re about to get company.”

“Okay, okay.” He turned awkwardly in his seat to face me. “About three days after your friend and her baby rented a room, these men came in looking for her. Of course, this is all Cartel land, but these men were from a different family.”

“What did their tag look like?” Since 2015, Cartel soldiers were branded with a tattoo or tag, as they called it to show loyalty to the family they worked for. It was often found on their wrist so they could flash it easily.

“Three lines inside a box.” I may not know much about the Canos family, but I did know that was their tag. “I’m in Perez land, and they wear?—”

“A snake with a gold ring around its neck,” I finished for him. Part of my job was to know these things.

“Right.” He seemed impressed I knew. “Well, those men wanted to know what direction she left and to see her room.”

“Did you show them the address you showed me?”

“Yeah, I did.” He tapped his thigh and looked uneasy. “I’m not looking for trouble but if those men risked everything to cross enemy lines to find that woman, I wasn’t going to get in their way.”

“I would have done the same.” I wasn’t about to judge him for that choice. The Cartel were ruthless and had zero regard for anyone’s life. They were only out for themselves. “Do you think it was the Canos’ soldiers who blew up your motel?”

“I have no idea, but what I do know is I’m outta here. Could you drop me off at the nearest bus station?”

“I can do that.” I thought about the address and map in my boot. I wiggled my toes and could feel them still in there. Thank God!