I glanced out our bullet-shattered back window. The truck following us was stuck behind all the wreckage. I took what felt like my first breath since I’d put eyes on Joe.
Within minutes, we were deep into the city.
FORTY-FOUR
Thirty minutes later, we were inside a private medical room on the first floor of a nearly abandoned office building somewhere in the dark recesses of Mexico City. Greta acted like she knew the place well. Using her CIA connections, she’d pulled in a local doctor, who immediately started tending to Joe’s many wounds. My father-in-law looked even worse under the fluorescent lights. They’d beaten him badly this past week. But he was alive, and that was what mattered most at the moment. Still, where did we go from here? I was a suspect in a crime I hadn’t committed. The police officer who’d been working with me was dead. And Miguel Cortez was still capable of causing havoc for all of us. We weren’t out of the woods yet. I knew I couldn’t just call Taylor right now and give her the good news about her father. This thing was beyond complicated. But Greta seemed to be developing a plan. She was currently on her phone outside of the room, working on a way to get us all out of Mexico City.
Alone with Joe, I stood next to his medical bed and waited for him to open his eyes. The doctor had been pumping him full of pain meds for the past few minutes. Joe had been pretty much out of it ever since we’d dragged him to freedom. I noticed he was finally stirring awake. Joe squinted up at me, his eyes slowly adjusting to the bright light above him.
“It wasn’t a dream,” he said to me. “You are here.”
“I’m here, Joe. You’re okay. You’re safe now.”
His eyebrows pinched. “But . . . what about the girls? Taylor? Carol?”
“Yes, they are okay, too. They are safe back in Austin.”
“Thank God,” Joe said, exhaling deeply, his shoulders relaxing. “Who is with you? I saw someone else. A woman?”
“Greta,” I replied. “She’s right outside.”
Joe’s face wrinkled up. “But . . . how?”
I grabbed a stool, slid it over, and sat. “It’s been one hell of a week.”
I proceeded to tell him everything that had happened from the moment the minivan sped off with him inside with that black hood over his head. Hearing about the death of his friend Ethan Tucker made Joe tear up and rub his face with his hands. Then finding out I had almost died on the streets of Austin and a police officer had been killed this morning because of this situation seemed to hit him even harder.
“I’m so sorry, Alex. I never dreamed any of this would happen.”
“Listen, Joe, I’m okay. You’re okay. That’s what matters right now.”
“Does Taylor know you’re here?”
I shook my head. “She doesn’t know about any of this.”
“Carol?”
“No. I’ve kept it from both of them. To protect them.”
Joe sighed, clearly trying to absorb it all. “I have hated keeping Carol in the dark about this all of these years. But I could see no other way to fully protect her. I always believed the more she knew, the more danger she would be in if this ever unraveled on me like it did this past week.” He looked over at me. “I’m sorry you’ve had to lie to Taylor to protect me. I never wanted my lies to infest the whole family.”
“You’re alive, Joe. That’s what matters right now. What happened after they took you? Why did they fake your death?”
Joe licked his cracked lips. “I had no idea they faked my death. When they finally pulled the hood off my head, I stared straight into the face of Miguel Cortez. That’s when I knew for sure what this was about: money and revenge. I tried to convince him that the CIA was protecting my family. I knew enough of the language because of Greta to make it sound convincing. I was terrified he would try to use you and the girls as leverage against me. I guess my bluff worked, and he decided to be more cautious. They put me in another van and drove me for what felt like forever until they shoved me into that dark room. I have no idea where we are right now or even what day it is anymore.”
“It’s Sunday. We’re in Mexico City.”
He nodded. “I can’t believe you’re here. And I’m still alive.”
“They’ve been beating you?”
He swallowed. “Yes. Repeatedly. Cortez wanted answers about the money. He wanted to know who else was involved. He wanted to go after everyone.”
“Did you tell him anything?”