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EIGHT

NICOLE

C arlos knocked on my window, and I jerked awake. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen asleep. He held up a small bag. He looked all around as I rolled down the glass. Two men stood a few feet back from him. Instantly, I was on high alert, and for a split second, I thought he’d brought Perez’s men to me.

“Who are they?” I pointed with my chin.

He tried to put my mind at ease. “My cousin came with his friend. You need to get rid of this truck. It might be tracked, so you can take mine. The keys are inside.” He pointed to a rusty old blue pickup truck.

“When you get to wherever you’re going, hide it somewhere.

You can text me where and I’ll come get it.

” He waited a beat. “Take this.” He handed me a flip phone.

“This has pre-paid minutes. I was able to get you twenty. Sorry there isn’t more. ”

“No,” I yawned as I felt the weight of the last few days crash down on me, “that’s great. Thank you.”

He passed me the bag. “Water, juice, nuts, and some strange looking protein bar, but it’s something.” He shrugged.

“I appreciate it.” I dove into the water since I hadn’t had any in too long.

I glanced around the bus station that looked to be out of service.

“Where are you off to?” I glanced at his friends.

As much as Carlos was a stranger to me, he made me miss my team.

My mind flashed to Ben, and I truly hoped he was okay.

I wouldn’t put it past Bruno to torture him just for the fun of it.

“We’ll head north. I might even go visit some family in the US. It’s time I left this place.”

“Might not be a bad idea.”

“Can you drive a stick?”

My stomach sank as I climbed out of the bloodstained driver’s seat. “Of course,” I lied. I had driven one before and almost died, but that was a problem I’d just have to deal with.

“Good. She’s a bit sticky moving into third but she’ll get you there.” He opened the door, and I slowly slid behind the wheel. The seat felt bouncy as I moved around. I started the engine.

He leaned in the open window. “Listen, I put my cousin’s number in that phone as well as mine. If you get into trouble, and I’m over the border, at least you have someone to call. Stay safe out there. It’s not a place for someone like you.” He shook his head.

“Don’t I know it.” I waved then quickly sent my contact at the Washington Post my new phone number.

Jack was a good guy, and I knew he’d be sweating it out waiting for word from me.

I put the truck into first, but as I tried to release the clutch, the truck jerked forward a few times and stalled.

I didn’t look back as I started it again.

This time I managed to get it to move and ignored the grinding when I put it in second.

I pulled out onto the dusty road and hit the gas.

I remembered his comment and ignored third gear completely and put it in fourth.

I was thrilled when the truck didn’t stall.

“We’re gonna do just fine, Rusty. We’re one with the road.

” I grinned happily and propped the map up between the speedometer and the wheel and headed toward God knew what.

A few hours later, I’d finished all the stuff from the bag, but my stomach soon grumbled and begged for some real food.

I fought with the gears and managed to pull over at a gas station where Rusty promptly stalled.

I took a huge breath and started it again and was pleased to get the truck into a parking spot.

I dug around for the GoPro camera. I knew I looked like death had beaten me with a dead cat, but that would only help sell my story.

I got out and held up the camera. I made sure that the background was of the brick wall with its peeling paint.

I didn’t want anything in view that could tie me to a specific location.

I arranged my face as I pressed record. “My name is Nicole Winter, and I’m a reporter with The Washington Post .

At 4:29, while I was following another story and was asleep in a motel room just outside Mexico City, there was a massive explosion.

As you can see on this footage, two Cartel families came together over what we think was a turf war.

At this point, I am unaware of how many casualties there were, but I can confirm the deaths of two Perez soldiers.

“I am happy to say that I was able to escape unharmed, and that I fully intend to find those responsible for this attack and publicly out them myself.” I stared directly into the camera and hoped Bruno would see it.

“I would say I’m sorry for those who were killed and their Cartel families, but that would be a lie.

These people are monsters, and monsters deserve to rot in the ground. ”

I turned off the camera, used my little contraption to upload the video to the phone, and sent it off to Jack.

Almost immediately, I got a response saying it would air within the next thirty minutes once it was approved.

I leaned over the truck and let the pain caused by Bruno, his men, and the explosion flow over me.

I let it remind me why I was there. I packed away the camera and knew I needed sleep, but that wasn’t in the cards.

I squinted into the sun as I made my way inside the gas station to get some food.

It took me a few hours and some testy moments with Rusty before I finally reached the town where I’d find the address Talya Canos had written. To say my head was on a swivel was an understatement, and by the time I got there, my shoulders were killing me from the tension I carried.

I’d made my career from chasing stories about the Cartel.

I became an expert in forging fake relationships to get intel, and I wasn’t above using whatever was necessary to get what I needed.

Minus my body—that was never on the table.

There had been victories, perhaps small ones, but victories, nonetheless.

Somehow, this time it felt different, like there was a level of darkness headed my way, and I only hoped I’d see it in time.

I checked the address twice as I parked and got out.

I looked up at the massive church that towered above me.

It was stunning, with its fifteen-foot stained glass window that depicted angels and doves in bright sunlight, long, golden pieces of glass like the sun’s rays looked to almost touch the Earth.

As magnificent as it was, something nagged at me as I walked up the steps toward the wooden doors. As I reached for the brass handle, I let my hand fall. It didn’t feel right.

I turned and looked around. If Talya was on the run and worried she might be followed, why would she leave the address in the room?

She would burn it, or flush it, or take it with her.

Why did she book the room for two nights yet stayed only one?

My mind spun as I rehashed it all. Had there been someone on her tail?

Did she plan on staying only one night but made it look like two?

What if she’d planned on leaving after the first night and had the room booked for someone else for the second, and was that someone supposed to find this address and would know what it meant?

“All right, all right, all right.” I stopped my crazy spinning and looked around from the top of the church steps.

“Why would I send someone here? Come on, Talya, talk to me.” I scanned the area.

“If I had a baby, what would I need?” I spotted a market.

“That would be handy for diapers and food and such.” I moved on to a taco truck.

“That would be good for mom, quick food that took cash. Okay, so far, all that made sense to me. But what else? There needed to be a bigger reason. “Why bring someone here? If I were running from something or someone, I’d want to blend in…” My words trailed off as I spotted a sign held up by two concrete angels.

Roughly translated, it read Hope Heaven Orphanage .

I hurried down the stairs and made my way toward the place.

It took a few moments to find the door, as it was camouflaged by large shrubs.

There were no handles, just a little intercom with a broken button at the bottom that dangled from some wires.

I pushed the button back into place and hoped the wires were all still connected.

I pressed it and waited, as I heard no bell sound come from inside.

“ Sí ?”

“English?” I knew many of the sisters who worked in Catholic orphanages spoke English.

“Name.”

“Nicole Winter. I’m looking for a friend. She might be in trouble, and I think I might be too. Can I please come in?” I hated that I had to lie to a sister of the church, but I needed to find that baby before Bruno or someone else. No child should be used as a poker chip in some Cartel power game.

The door creaked open, and a nun peered down at me. “Are you alone?”

“I am,” I promised. She stepped back and opened the door just wide enough for me to pass through.

“I’m Sister Margaret,” she said as she slid a big bar across the door. “Forgive the judgement, but we need to be careful. We often have unwanted visitors. These children are vulnerable, and it keeps us on our toes. Please follow me.”

“I understand, and thank you for letting me in.” I followed her down a long hallway to a comfortable sitting room where two sisters sat bottle feeding infants.

My heart warmed at the sight, and I fought to keep back my own tears.

So many children were born full of love and hope and had no idea what kind of a world they were about to grow up in.

“Sister Clara, Sister Maria, this is Nicole Winter. She is looking for a friend who may be in trouble.”

“Oh, dear.” The wrinkles around Sister Maria’s mouth deepened as she frowned. “What was her name? Perhaps we could help you.”