+00:32:12 (5:51pm)

“I don't care why you're doing it,” Isabel said in contempt. “Just bring her back home where she belongs.”

Isabel paced back and forth outside her house, awaiting Jesus' arrival. After she made the call she had felt so claustrophobic; all she wanted to do was go running out into the city screaming at the top of the lungs for someone, no, everyone, to help her. Instead, here she was, powerless to do anything except wait for the help of someone who didn't want to give it. She just kept reminding herself that this was the best way to get her daughter back alive.

A blue jean Ford F-150 turned onto her street, and her heat beat faster as she recognized Jesus in the driver's seat. She again resisted the urge to go charging out in front of the car just so she can hurry up and tell him to start looking. Instead she tapped her foot impatiently as he slowly pulled up to her house, as if he didn't have a care in the world. A*****e, she thought. All of her pent up anxiety was unleashed as soon as he opened his car door.

“Thank God you're finally here!” Isabel snapped, running up to him.

Jesus stared dumbfounded at the shape Isabel was in. She had a large purple bruise on her cheek, dried blood traced along the side of her face from a cut near her hairline, dozens of small cuts on her hand and bits of broken glass sparkled like glitter all over her bloodied shirt.

“What happened?” Jesus wondered aloud.

“He took her from me!” Isabel blurted.

“What?! Who?!”

Jesus rushed past her and went inside the house, his training screaming at him to secure the scene. Isabel followed right behind him, stammering as she tried to get her story out. He stopped in his tracks after he saw the blood and glass all over the living room floor. He spun around and looked at Isabel dead in the eyes.

“Okay, calm down, take a breath,” he prompted.

Isabel stopped talking, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again.

“Now, tell me what happened,” he coaxed.

“Morena's been kidnapped,” Isabel quivered.

“By who?” her repeated as his eyes took in the scene in more detail.

“Her father, Mateo. He called, asking to see her and I said okay since I wasn't busy or anything.”

“I thought you said you didn't know who Morena's father was...” Jesus interjected, his eyes flaring in anger.

“There's a reason why--”

“You said he was some guy you hooked up with at the club when you and Brandon were having problems.”

“Look, I know that's what we told you but--”

“You mean Brandon knew too?!” he hollered in disbelief.

“Do you want me to explain or not?” she chided.

Jesus stared at her, a million questions racing through his head and he wanted the answers to all of them at once. He remained silent and gave the slightest hint of a nod to signal her to proceed with her explanation.

“Like I was saying,” Isabel continued, silently resenting him for wasting time when it was the only thing that mattered. “Morena's father called asking to see her, which he sometimes does whenever he is in town. So I said 'okay.'”

Jesus nodded subconsciously, actively piecing together whatever information she would give to piece together what was kept from him for the last 5 years.

“Once he got here he was covered in blood and he said we --Morena and I-- had to pack a bag. I asked him what for and he said he was going back to Michoacán, and he wouldn't be able to come to the U.S. anymore. I asked him what that had to do with us and then he slapped me.”

Isabel paused and subconsciously held her hand up to her cheek, her eyes shifting back and forth as she relived the indignity.

“Go on,” Jesus prompted eagerly, the pieces beginning to take shape.

Her eyes snapped back into focus and she continued.

“He told me that Morena was his daughter too; and since he wouldn't be able to come back to see her, she was going to have to go with him. 'Inviting you is just a courtesy,' he said. I told him to hell with that and that I was going to call the cops if he tried to take her. He told me if I called the cops then he would kill her. I looked at him like he was crazy and then reached for my phone and then thats when he punched me and I blacked out. He must have knocked me into the coffee table because the next thing I know I'm waking up covered in glass, and I hear his car peeling out. That's when I knew she was gone.”

“How long ago did it happen?” Jesus asked, pulling out his phone.

“About half an hour ago...Who are you calling?” Isabel asked, uneasily.

“9-1-1, who do you think?” Jesus replied as he dialed. “I'll get an AMBER alert out and we'll get--”

“NO!” Isabel screeched, knocking the phone out of his hand.

“What the f--”

“Don't you think I would've called the cops if I could've?!”

“Do you really think he would hurt his own daughter?”

“Yes, because Mateo is f*****g crazy! He's some kind of hit man for some cartel and the sick f**k actually likes it!”

“All the more reason to call!” Jesus countered, having surmised as much.

“You don't get it,” Isabel protested. “He has connections everywhere from Stockton to TJ. That's how he's lasted this long without getting caught. He’s also crazy enough to actually take out it out on Morena if I just to prove I shouldn’t have betrayed him.”

“Sounds like father-of-the-year.”

“He didn’t act like that when I first met him...”

“You mean when you first started cheating on Brandon? Your husband and my best friend,” Jesus shot back, unable to hide his contempt.

“Look, I know I made a mistake,” Isabel said, fiercely. “And I've been more than willing to take your s**t all these years for that. But my daughter shouldn't have to; she is innocent in all of this.”

Jesus shook his head and took a few away from her, furious. Despite some of the answers he got, there were still so many other questions. But like her, he was starting to realize that with every second they spent talking, the kidnapper was getting further and further away. In his criminal justice classes he learned that the first 48 hours of a kidnapping were critical. He turned back around, saw a black eye about to settle in it’s color, the gash on her head, and let out a long sigh.

“Even if I did decide to track him on my own, and I’m not even sure if I could, we’re only 6 hours from the border. Since he has a head start I won’t ever be able to catch up. I need CHP to block the overpasses, a description of the car he is driving...”

“He can’t leave town right away,” Isabel appealed. “Some rival gang is out looking for him and maybe even the police so he needs to wait until things cool down. He told me that much before...”

Isabel subconsciously looked over at the small beads of glass she missed around the coffee table legs; which were all that remained from the table.

“What’s Mateo’s last name?” Jesus interrogated.

“Santos. He’s with Sureño Locos or something like that.”

“Do you know what rival gang he hit?”

“NMB, I think. I don’t know what it stands for.”

“Norte Mad Bulldogs...Did he mention anything else?”

Isabel shook her head a little to emphatically. Jesus could tell she was on the verge of breaking down again. He continued to speak, using a stern, but not hostile, tone to keep her focused.

“Listen to me. I will see what I can do for now, but I can’t make any promises that I can keep the police out of it.”

“You have to--” Isabel persisted.

“I will for now,” Jesus repeated. “I'm going to need a recent picture of her and a description of what she is wearing.”

“Thank you so much!” Isabel gasped in relief as she rushed in to hug him.

Jesus raised up his hand and stopped her before she could wrap her arms around him.

“I'm only doing this because I promised Brandon I would take care of you guys after he died.”

“I don't care why you're doing it,” Isabel dismissed in contempt. “Just bring her back home where she belongs.”

Without another word, Jesus rushed out of the door, dialing a number on his phone.

“Emmanuel, where are you?” Jesus demanded. “I need some intel.”

Reviews

[Baily Thomas]

Again, you're writing style draws you in and keeps you reading along. The story unfolds quite nicely as you learn more about each character in a very short time. From a happy retirement party to a kidnapping situation with a twist. As I was reading I thought it would be nice touch to get into Jesus' character a bit more before moving on to the interaction with the mother. But then again, maybe that will come with time and development of the story. Well done.