Midnight Crossing by Tricia Fields Page A

shut her down.
    She opened her bag and pulled out her pad and ink, smiling, attempting to lighten the task. “I’ve brought a kit with me. I need to get your fingerprints here on this paper. It will help us get your records in order.” She set everything up on the rolling bedside table and stood, holding her hand out. Surprisingly, Isabella held her own hand out in response and allowed Marta to print her as she talked.
    “Where do you live?”
    Isabella remained silent.
    “Are you from Mexico? Maybe Brazil?” She paused. “Guatemala? Honduras?”
    Nothing.
    “Do you live here in the U.S.?”
    No reply.
    “Can you tell me where your friend is from?”
    Isabella closed her eyes and her face tensed up as if she were trying to fight back tears.
    Marta dropped Isabella’s hand and slipped everything back in her bag. “Can you tell me your friend’s name? Her first name?”
    She shook her head. “No, no, no.”
    “You can’t tell me, or you don’t know?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t know her name.”
    Tears poured from her eyes until she began shaking and then sobbing. Marta pushed the call button beside the bed and a moment later Vie rushed in. She looked at Marta accusingly.
    “What happened?”
    “I asked about her friend and she started crying,” Marta said.
    “I think you’d best go,” Vie said.
    *   *   *
    Back in the hallway, Marta was sorry that she’d caused such a reaction in the young woman, but she was interested to learn that Isabella claimed not to even know the other woman’s name. She sent a quick text to Josie and Otto to that effect and took her position on the chair in the hallway, settling in for a long night of waiting and wondering.

 
    SEVEN
    Josie arrived home at 7:30 p.m. and found Nick on her couch reading a True Crime magazine and drinking a beer. He pitched the magazine onto the coffee table as she sat beside him.
    “You look like you need some sleep.”
    She shrugged and blew air out in frustration. “I feel like we’re checking tasks off a to-do list. No big breaks yet. Did you hear anything today?”
    “I have feelers out about the trafficking and two missing women. Since we’re in Medrano territory I have guys checking there first. There’s no doubt the Medranos are involved in prostitution and trafficking, but I don’t know about transportation routes. Did Border Patrol have information on routes?”
    “Jimmy Dixon’s working on it.”
    Josie watched Nick take a long swig of his beer, and again she was struck by his physical presence. When he walked into a room he filled it up; he was big and intense and couldn’t blend into a crowd if he wanted to. In contrast, Josie tried to fall back and observe; she attributed this to being a cop, but she knew it was also her personality. She watched the condensation drip down the bottle and onto his jeans and took in his hard jawline. He smiled without turning to face her.
    “You okay with the view?”
    She laughed. “A little cocky, aren’t you?”
    “Just making sure you’re satisfied.”
    “I was deciding what kind of a bodyguard you might make.”
    “The best.”
    “You busy tonight?” she asked.
    “I’m your man.”
    She smiled as she nodded. “Good. I need an escort to Mexico.”
    *   *   *
    Nick carried dual citizenship in the U.S. and Mexico and frequently made the trip across the International Bridge. Driving in his black armored SUV, they passed through customs with no issues, and within a few minutes they were driving parallel to the river, headed for desert country. Once they were out of Piedra Labrada they both rolled down the windows and let the warm night air blow through. When Josie had told Nick about Señora Molina he said he knew her. Apparently she was a legend with the young kids in the area. When somebody needed a place to crash, they could count on her.
    Nick pulled off the marked gravel road and onto an arroyo that led down into a shallow streambed a half mile from the Rio