Jeanne Stein - The Watcher

"In an official capacity?"

He shrugs. "If it needs to be. I came to ask for her help, but I can make it less pleasant if I have to."

"You have no authority in Mexico, Agent Foley."

"Neither have you."

God. Another pissing contest. They're so busy marking their territories, they forget that the object of the conversation is standing right here. "Would you like to tell me what it is you want?"

Both Foley and Williams turn abruptly in my direction.

I deliberately step between them. "What do you want?"

"It's not so much what I want," he replies. "It's what I can give you."

I raise an eyebrow. "I can hardly wait to hear this. What can you give me, Foley?"

"Max," he says. "I can give you Max."

“YOU HAVE MAX?" I SHAKE MY HEAD AT FOLEY. "Right. And you called Burke a drama queen?"

He starts to open his jacket, but, as one, Culebra, Williams, Ortiz and I all take a menacing step toward him. His hand freezes. "Easy. I have something I want to show Anna, that's all."

Williams motions for him to go ahead. "Slowly."

He continues in theatrical slow motion to reach into an inside jacket pocket. What he pulls out is a picture. He holds it out to me.

I take it from his outstretched hand and turn it over. The image is dark, as if taken inside a dimly lit room. But the central figure is clear. It's Max. He's bound and gagged and lying on a bed. His eyes are open. Not fixed in death, but staring, aware. There is a newspaper on his chest. Yesterday's San Diego Union-Tribune.

I swallow back panic and the rising tide of anger. I raise my eyes to Foley. "Where is he?"

Foley shrugs. "I really don't know."

I take another step toward him. "You just said you had him."

He holds his ground. "Well, in point of fact, Martinez has him."

"So you admit it? You're working for Martinez?"

He looks around. "No use denying it. There's nothing any of you can do about it." He focuses on me again. "But if you agree to come with me, Martinez promises to set Max free."

Williams moves so that he is between Foley and me. "What kind of game are you playing? Why would Martinez want Anna? Max is the one he thinks betrayed him."

"Can't answer that one, either."

But I can. Martinez is seeking payback for what happened to his family. I know there is no chance that he will free Max with or without me. I know Foley knows this, as well. But I have a decided advantage in this game. I open my thoughts to Williams.

Iwill go with him.

Williams' shoulders bunch. No. I won't permit it.

YOU won't permit it? That he would even say that to me has my skin crawling with disgust. There is nothing for you to permit.

Think, Anna. It's a trick Max is already dead. You know that.

But there is a chance that he is not. I'm willing to take it. I can take care of myself. I doubt Martinez has supernaturals on his payroll.

Culebra's voice interrupts. I can help. I can follow Anna as my other self.

Williams snorts. Rattlesnake? How do you propose to follow them in that form?

Tire treads. Dirt roads. I have done it before.

And what if Foley crosses the border? Takes paved roads? What then?

I call upon other animals. I have many friends in this part of the world.

Williams is unmoved. No.

It is not your decision. My voice cuts into the dialogue. I will go with Foley. Culebra will do what he can. I am not afraid.

During this exchange, Foley shifts impatiently from one foot to the other. He does not know what is passing between the three of us. I suppose he thinks I'm debating just how far I'm willing to go for a man I supposedly love.

His next words confirm my thoughts. "I knew you wouldn't go for it. I told Martinez. You are a selfish bitch. Max is only one of a string of lovers. He's not important enough to you to risk your own skin."

I slap his face so hard he loses his balance and falls backward, landing on his ass in an unceremonious heap. He's back on his feet in an instant though, and his hand dips again into his jacket.

I grab it and twist. "You want my cooperation?" I snarl. "Better treat me with a little more respect."

He tries to pull free but I bend his hand backward at the wrist while removing the gun from the clip on his hip. I toss it to Williams.

When he has it, I release Foley. He doesn't know whether to rub his bruised cheek or to nurse his aching wrist. His ego prevents him from doing either. He glares at me in furious rage but doesn't say anything.

Smart.

Williams' thoughts are furious, too, aimed not at Foley, though, but at Culebra and at me. You are intent on doing this?

Yes. If Foley makes it back, be sure he never gets a chance to spend all his blood money.

Williams doesn't yield the intensity of his disapproval, but he does nod.

I glance at Culebra who nods, too, that he is ready.

I blow out a ragged breath. "Okay, Foley. You've got me. Let's go."

Foley stares at me in disbelief. "You'll come?"

He's so obviously surprised, I can't help but laugh. "You are a moron, you know that? If you didn't think I'd come, why all this?" I wave a hand. "You exposed yourself to a police chief and a deputy. What did you think would happen if I refused? You could go back home and we'd pretend nothing happened?"

His eyes shift away.

"Oh," I answer for him. "I get it. Martinez will pay more for a live Anna than a dead one. You didn't get Max, so I'm the consolation prize. Explains what happened in Palm Canyon."

His expression hardens and I know I'm right. I look over at Williams. "Better start making the case against this idiot for the shooting in Palm Canyon as soon as you get back to San Diego. Not that I expect Foley is planning to cross the border again. Not under his real name anyway."

But Foley's face shows no emotion except a deepening frown of growing impatience. "Are you going to shut up anytime soon? I'd like to get out of this dump."

The temptation is strong to whack him again. But he's right. The sooner we get on the road, the sooner I can do something for Max. I don't bother to say anything else to Williams or Culebra. It's all been said. I motion for Foley to lead the way and he does, casting one hesitant glance backward to assure himself Williams is not going to stop us. When he's confident that the way is clear, his back straightens, his walk becomes a swagger and his face takes on an expression of smug calculation.

He thinks he's won.

He has another thing coming.

FOLEY IS DRIVING A BIG SUV, SHINY BLACK IN THE diffused light of approaching dawn. The windows are tinted. He doesn't bother to see if I'm actually going to get in. He leaves me to open the passenger door while he crosses confidently to the driver's side.

When I'm inside, he cranks over the engine and pulls away. For the first few miles, he keeps a close watch on the rearview mirror. As we get farther from Beso de la Muerte and no headlights reflect in the mirror from a tail, he relaxes a bit in the seat. He glances over at me. "Guess you aren't worth much to your friends. They aren't even trying to follow."

I ignore the remark. "Where are we going?"

He just smiles.

I settle back in the seat. "So, how did you and Burke get together anyway?"

A sideways glance. "Mutual friend."

"Ah. Martinez, right? He has some interest in the black arts does he?"

Foley chuckles. "I think it's crap. But he and his crazy mother believe in that stuff. After I told him you'd dissappeared from San Diego for real yesterday, he said Burke knew she could find you—could 'summon' you because she had some friend of yours. He paid Burke a shitload of money to lure you to that freak show. He really wants you bad." A smirk touches his mouth. "It worked. I'll give them that."