Page 15

“She would have come by about a year ago, and her name was Talya Canos.” I noted a slight change in her expression. “She had her baby with her. I know she was running from someone.”

“That name doesn’t ring a bell.” Sister Margaret didn’t miss a beat when she answered, which instantly told me they knew something. “I’m sorry. We can’t help you.”

“Please,” I held up my hands, “I know her last name brings fear. Normally, it would put mine through the roof too, but you have my word I have no affiliation with the Cartels other than it’s my job to report to the world how horrendous they are.

In spite of her last name, she’s my friend and is a good person, and I’m only trying to help.

She’s in trouble, and the last time I spoke to her was just before she came this way.

Please, you have to trust me. I’m scared for the baby. ”

“Trust is something earned here, my child. We have many under our care.” Sister Margaret seemed to have made up her mind not to help me. “We don’t know this woman.”

“I’ve earned the trust of many.” I pointed to their television.

“May I?” The three of them hesitated, but Sister Margaret finally nodded.

I turned on the small set and switched the channel to CNN.

Please work. “I’m her friend, but I also work for the press.

” I nearly cried with glee when my video popped up.

“See? I was there.” I pointed to myself and then pulled at my shirt to show that I was still wearing it.

“I was there when that happened at the motel this morning. It’s about the Cartel.

They are the ones who are looking for her. ”

“Then you understand our position.” Sister Margaret’s eyes found mine. “The Cartel often send people here. We have never seen this woman.”

“Sister, please, I understand your fear. My job is to document the fighting between the Cartel families to help shine light on this never-ending war. I’m here to find my friend, yes, but also to help the locals get back a country that’s rightfully theirs.”

Sister Clara hugged the baby she now rocked close to her chest. “How did you know to look here?”

I reached back into my pocket and pulled out the address of the church. “Because she left this for me. I just didn’t get it until yesterday.”

“That address is across the street.” Sister Margaret stood and waved for me to follow her back to the front door. “Thank you, for what you do. Please, Lord, watch over this child.” She prayed, but I could see I wasn’t getting through to her. “Now, Ms. Winter, it’s time for you to leave.”

I closed my eyes and dropped my head and pulled my oval pendant of Saint Jerome Emiliani out of my shirt.

I knew what I had to do. I needed them to truly trust and hear me, so I recited the prayer.

“Lord, I pray for your protection over my child. Send your angels to guard them and keep them safe from harm.” I kissed the pendant of the patron saint of orphans and looked at the wings that were spread protectively around a baby.

Sister Margaret took a step closer to study the necklace, and then her eyes softened and her mouth turned into a sad smile. “Oh, child,” she cupped my face and whispered, “amen.”

“Amen.” I repeated.

“Come, dear, not here.” She looked at the other ladies.

“Sisters, it’s all right. It’s time.” They dispersed and a moment later joined us baby free in an office that looked to be little more than a storage room.

Sister Margaret and Sister Clara pushed a cabinet along the wall to reveal a hidden door.

“The Cartel likes to keep tabs on our financial records. They want to know how many children, particularly boys, we have and their ages,” Sister Maria explained as the other two ladies unlocked the door.

“They’re always looking to expand their army.

” She clucked her tongue. “We don’t work for them.

We work for the Lord, and he blessed us with this room to secure our valuables.

The Sunday collections from the church next door, any valuables the children may have brought with them, also the identities of the children, and any other important documents we need to keep from prying eyes. ”

“Please come in.” Sister Margaret pointed to a chair. “Forgive our mistrust, but you’re the second person to ask about Talya Canos and her baby this day.”

A heavy weight dropped into my stomach, and I fought to stop the panic that washed over me. Were the Cartels a step ahead of me already?

“Who else was here?”

“We have a rule here. If you’re male and want to speak to someone, you must wait until the father can join us.

” Sister Margaret dug through some documents in her desk.

“We’ve had too many close calls to handle the opposite sex alone.

We simply explained that Father Antonio would be at the church tonight, and they can ask their questions then. ”

“Fair enough.” I was happy whoever it was had accepted her explanation. Maybe I still had time.

Sister Margaret seemed to have found what she was looking for and put a file on the desk. She leaned back in her chair. “Talya was frightened.” She put a hand to her chest. “She thought she was being followed and begged us for help. She said she might need to leave the child in our care.”

“Did she say who was after her?”

“No, but in our experience, when a woman runs from her home with an infant, it generally means she’s afraid of the father.

” I nodded. It made sense, statistically.

“Talya asked to spend a few nights here, then one night she left her son with Sister Clara and left. We weren’t sure if she was coming back, but the next morning she returned, thanked us, took the child, and left. That was the last time we saw them.”

“Did she ever say anything that might lead to where she went? Or mention anyone she was meeting?”

Sister Margaret glanced at the others, and I knew there had to be more.

Sister Clara gave a slight nod, and then the others followed suit as if in silent agreement.

“She did ask us to hold on to this.” Sister Margaret placed a hand flat on the file she had pulled out of the drawer.

“And this.” She picked up a tiny stuffed rabbit with floppy ears and handed it to me.

“She left his stuffed animal?” She really must have left in a hurry.

“I think she was more interested in making sure this,” she pointed to the file, “ended up in the right hands.”

“All right, what is that?”

“Her instructions were that someday someone might come for it.”

“Who?”

“I’m not sure, but you, Ms. Winter, might be that person.” She seemed to weigh her decision then slid the file and bunny over to me. I set the tiny stuffy on my lap and flipped open the file.

“Holy shit.” My eyes popped open. “Sorry.” I gave an apologetic smile then went back to reading the document. “Wait,” I studied the birth certificate, “the child’s father is listed as Eric Noah?”

The sisters looked at one another, and Sister Clara nodded.

“Yes, we looked into the man,” Sister Margaret added. “He apparently held a position in the Cartel to the north.”

“Yes. I definitely know him. He was Martin Castillo's right-hand man.” I sure as shit had heard about that hit. Wow, the infamous human trafficker Eric ‘the Tunnel to Hell’ Noah was the boy’s father. That said a lot.

“I believe they are both deceased,” Sister Clara chimed in.

“Eric Noah’s body was never found,” I mumbled as I absorbed the information then gave an involuntary shiver. “I’m shocked you know as much as you do.” I looked at Sister Margaret.

“We may live in an orphanage, my child, but in these times, we keep ourselves educated about the Cartel. It has served us well.” Sister Margaret put a hand on my knee. “These are dangerous men.”

“No doubt. The only thing is if he’s the one she was running from and I’m correct on my timeline, maybe Eric Noah didn’t die in that explosion, and…”

“He could be still alive,” Sister Maria finished my sentence, “and is looking for his son.”

“Sister, you’re absolutely sure Talya never said anything that might point to who this birth certificate was left for?”

“No, she just asked us to hold it and that someday someone might come looking for it.” Sister Margaret rubbed the cross that hung from her neck.

“If I’ve learned anything from being a nun all these years, it’s that evil never truly dies.

I won’t believe this man is dead,” she pointed to Eric Noah’s name, “until I see the body.” Her eyes narrowed on mine, and I felt she was warning me that evil was near.

“There will always be a place here for you, my child,” her eyes softened, “for you and for baby Eric.”

“I bet she went to Campeche,” Sister Maria blurted. “One night she told me that she wished little Eric could see where it all began. She said it had been a place where she’d felt happy and safe. There was something about a dragon who flew with one wing.” She looked thoughtful.

“Dragon?” I repeated as Sister Margaret huffed.

“Fanciful dreams of a young mother. Don’t confuse those with reality, Sister.”

“She’s only trying to help.” I smiled at the younger nun.

“Who knows, it could be a metaphor for something.” I tucked the information away and stood.

“Thank you.” I smiled warmly and hugged them.

“It’s a place to start, and maybe I’ll be able to find them after all.

” I said my goodbyes and headed back to the truck.

“Campeche is known for its historic fortifications, colonial architecture, and Mayan ruins.” I kicked my feet up on the dash as I studied the tiny fact sheet. I’d taken it from the shelf at the gas station when I arrived in the city. “There’s no mention of dragons, though.”