Rick Mofina - In Desperation

“Hey, Gannon! What about the executions in Mexico?”

He gave the pack an apologetic wave and went to the back door.

“Come on, Jack, give your pals here a break!”

In the ride from the airport to Mesa Mirage, he’d checked his BlackBerry for developments. His WPA story was the big one. The Los Angeles Times, Yahoo and the New York Times had already put it up on their sites. The Arizona Republic had posted it, too, along with a news features on ever-widening neighborhood searches for Tilly and prayer vigils by church groups.

The moment Gannon stepped inside Cora’s house, she rushed to him.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I couldn’t.”

“You should’ve warned me, Jack! I was going out of my mind! Oh my God, is it true? Are the murders connected to Tilly? Who are the officers?”

Mounting worry had deepened the lines carved into her drawn face. He started to take her aside.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“No.” He felt a hand on his shoulder. “ We need to talk.”

Gannon turned and met Hackett’s scowl as the FBI agent backed him into a corner and dropped his voice to a menacing level.

“How did you learn about the homicides in Mexico, Gannon?”

Hackett’s question went beyond concern over a press leak.

That Gannon knew about a major break at the same time the FBI had been informed underscored Hackett’s worst nightmare as the lead investigator: The sickening possibility that had dogged him with that memo on cartel infiltration of U.S. police ranks.

In the icy silence that passed between them, each man knew. By Hackett’s body language, by the fury behind his eyes, Hackett telegraphed his fear of a potentially compromised investigation. It was there slithering in the air, that someone, anyone, among the half dozen agencies involved in the case, including those in Texas and Mexico, could be on a cartel payroll.

It rattled Hackett that Gannon had gotten so close.

“I don’t expect you’ll give up a source,” Hackett said, “but I’ll warn you, if you jeopardize our case I’ll charge you with obstruction.”

“It would be better if you accepted that you have your sources and I have mine. And we both want the same thing.”

“Just watch yourself.”

“Excuse me, I’d like to talk privately with my sister.”

“Listen up-if you have information relevant to this case, you’d better share it.”

Gannon made a point of lifting his chin to inventory the agents and officers in the house.

“Right, why don’t you tell me about the two dead ‘cops’ in the desert, Agent Hackett? Then we could talk about sharing, about trust.”

Hackett grimaced then left.

Cora was alone in her bedroom, looking at pictures of Tilly. Gannon’s stomach tensed after he’d shut the door. Trust . Did he trust her? Could he trust her? She touched her tears that fell on the photos in the laminated album.

“Cora, I need you to help me find her.”

She nodded.

“We have no time. I need you to tell me the truth about everything.”

“I’ve told you everything.”

“I think you’re holding back.”

“I told you I made a lot of mistakes in my life.”

“Stop the bullshit! I have seen what they do and what they are going to do to Tilly. You have to tell me everything so I can help.”

“Oh, God!”

“Why did you call me?”

“Because you’re a good reporter and I thought you could help me find the people who took Tilly, so we could bring her home.”

“Are you part of this?”

“No!”

“Cora, what did you mean when you said you’re being punished for past sins, that it’s karma? What the hell do you mean?”

“Jack, I-I don’t know-”

“Stop this! They’re going to kill Tilly!”

“I know. I have to protect her. We have to find her.”

“Then tell me something that could help, damn it, Cora!”

“Maybe Tilly’s father knows something.”

“I thought you said he was out of the picture?”

“He is. I haven’t seen him since I was pregnant.”

“Why do you think he could help?”

“He’s a police officer with the LAPD.”

Mesa Mirage, Phoenix, Arizona

They’d met when she was working as a waitress at a North Hollywood bar and still messed up on drugs. Ivan would talk to her. He was a tough patrol cop, divorced because of the job. Cora dated him. Then she got pregnant. It took a long time before she could bring herself to tell Ivan.

His reaction was seared into her memory.

He drove her to a clinic somewhere around Wilshire Boulevard, slapped five hundred dollars in her hand and told her to “take care of it.” She got out and he drove away.

The clinic was a decaying building that smelled like a veterinarian’s office where they put down dogs and cats.

Cora was so afraid.

“You’re too far along,” the nurse said.

Cora took it as a sign. Overwhelmed, she went to a church and prayed until she’d reached the decision to keep her baby. This was her one chance to save herself. She took a city bus to a community support agency. They counseled her, helped her get clean for her baby. It was hard, very hard, but she had Tilly alone.

And she raised her alone.

Cora never saw Ivan Peck again.

Later, she’d bumped into one of the girls from the bar who told her that Ivan was a cheating asshole who was married when he was dating Cora. Everyone knew. Didn’t she know? And this girl had also heard that Ivan got caught up in some kind of cop scandal.

“Scandal? What kind of scandal?” Gannon had asked Cora.

“I don’t know.”

“Was it corruption, use of force, what? Was it in the papers?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ivan Peck may be linked to Salazar, the dead guy in the desert. He was ex-LAPD.” Gannon consulted his notebook. “Did you know a cop named Octavio Sergio Salazar?”

“No.”

“I need to contact Peck.”

“Why, Jack?”

“Maybe Peck knows something about Salazar, something that could help. Do you have any idea if he’s still on the force?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think, Cora!”

“Jack, it was more than eleven years ago, I don’t know.”

“I need to find him.”

Gannon immediately dug into Ivan Peck’s background.

He called his best source again: Adell Clark, the ex-FBI agent turned private investigator in Buffalo. This time he got through.

“Jack, I am so sorry,” Clark said. “I’ve been tied up with an insurance fraud. I got your messages. I saw the news out of Phoenix. It’s just awful. It breaks my heart. I want to help. Tell me what you need.”

Gannon confidentially related every aspect of the case to Clark.

“I need all I can get on Octavio Sergio Salazar and John Walker Johnson. But first, I need everything you can get on Peck right now. I’m assuming he’s alive. Adell, I need to confront him face-to-face to find out if he can help us. He’s Tilly’s father. He’s got a stake in this. I know I’m grabbing at straws but we’re running out of time.”

“Okay, I’ve got some friends with the LAPD. I’ll make calls and get back to you as quick as I can.”

Before ending the call, Gannon gave Clark both names Cora had used and her date of birth then asked Clark to check if his sister had any arrests, warrants or convictions.

He then requested urgent help from the WPA news library. Then he went online and used every database the WPA subscribed to, to search for more on Salazar, Johnson and Peck. He scoured property records, state and municipal records. At the same time, he searched news archives for anything on an assassin known as The Tarantula. He texted Isabel Luna in Juarez and pressed her for updates on the executions in the desert, the cartels, anything.