eased into my interrogation by asking about her family. I knew she had a son, Manual. I asked about him, his age, and what year he was in school. I could tell she was proud of him, and she continued to talk about him. I felt she was becoming comfortable and more at ease, and I was truly interested in her life with Manual.
She told me that she lived with her mother, Theresa. Manual’s father had abandoned them before he was born, and her father had just died three years ago. So for now, it was just the three of them, doing the best they could. Rosa was concerned that he had no man in his life to show him the “ways” as she called it.
I found an opportunity and moved the conversation to Mike. “When did you meet Mike?” I asked.
“I work part-time at Gayle’s Café. Mr. Mike would have breakfast there with police chief Loman on Fridays. After his accident, the chief would pick him up and drive him into town, his broken hands you know. Mike asked me if I wanted to work for him, be his driver, and help him with his house. He offered me a lot more than the café, and he said he could work around when Gayle needed me there. That was seven months ago. I work for him since that day. He was a gentleman. When I drove him to Taos for his doctor visits, we always use his car. We then always stop at store, and he buy food for himself and my family. Plus he pay me for my time.”
I smiled at her words. That was the Mike Groves I knew.
I asked what the doctors name was.
She said, “Pandhar, nice lady, good to Mr. Mike. He liked her very much. He would say on our way home.”
“When was the last time you took him to see her?”
“August, middle, it’s very hot on that trip.”
“Did you know any of Mike’s friends or some of the veterans he hung out with?”
“Just some at Gayle’s. I come out from kitchen when Mr. Mike come in with the chief. Sometimes there would be large group at the corner table, all laughing, talking. They all good together. But some days, when Mike not there, I hear them talk. They worry about Mike. They say he not like the way he used to be.”
“Did you ever talk to Mike about their concerns?”
“No, oh no, never. That his business. I want to show respect.”
“What about here at the ranch? See anyone coming or going you didn’t know?”
At this question, she paused and sat thinking before she answered.
I waited, watched, and then her brow wrinkled as if she was in deep thought before she spoke.
“One day, I leave on Mr. Mike’s road, see car coming fast from highway, lots of dust, it pass me. There two men inside. They look at me like they are mad.”
“How long ago?” I asked.
“I think it August too.”
“What did they look like?”
“Look Hispanic, dark glasses, mustaches, both hair dark, one real long, one short.”
“Sounds like you got a good look at them.”
“I worry about Mr. Mike alone at the house. When I get to highway, I pull off behind trees. I wait. I look at time, ten minutes, then fifteen pass. I see them coming down road. Again, fast. When they get on highway, they go north. I look close at them when they pass me. That when I see better. How they look. I drive back to check on Mr. Mike. When I got on porch, I see through window. He was sitting. He did not get up when I drive in. He had gun on lap, a rifle. I knock, say, ‘Mr. Mike, it’s Rosa.’ I walk in, and the rifle it now on floor.”
I asked her, “You okay?”
“No, this hard for me. Mr. Mike, he say, ‘Rosa, what the hell you doing back here?’ He make me feel bad first time ever. I never see Mr. Mike this way. Then he say, ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’ Then I just tell him, ‘I worry when I saw those men.’
“He tell me, ‘They are bad men, Rosa. If you see them again, if they come back here when you are here, leave, leave quick.’ It scare me. I glad I never ever see those men here again, but I see a few times in town.’”
This was a serious piece of the story, I thought. I delved into it more with her even though I could tell it shook her just telling me about it.
“What about their car, the color? What kind?”
“Black, Jeep, with regular roof, four doors. Windows were dark in back. License plate Arizona, I know, it look like my cousins who visit from there.” She looked down at her hands. She was clasping them together. She sighed loudly.
I could tell Rosa was done. I asked her if I could talk to her again. She looked off to the mountains as if to avoid an answer, then said, “If it helps Mr. Mike, I do anything.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You have already been a blessing to Mike. For that, I thank you. Can I call you?”
“Yes, Mr. Jason.”
Chapter 9
Lehan was enjoying a light breakfast on the terrace outside his new suite. Andre’s old suite had a terrace on both sides to take in the Atlantic and harbor views. Lehan had moved into it right after the corporate meeting two days ago.
After he ate, he walked into the office to his own teak desk that he replaced Andre’s with. It had secret drawers that only opened by him placing his thumbprint on a pad beneath its top.
Lehan opened the hidden drawer that came out from the bottom right side of the desk. It held a laptop computer, encrypted and only accessible by Lehan’s right-index fingerprint. He picked it up and put it on the top of his desk, opened it and placed his right index finger on the keypad, and it came to life.
There were only a handful of people who could send messages to this device. This unit was reserved for his criminal activities, and those people who ran them for him. As he expected, there was a message and an attachment from Viktor Bardzecki. He opened it.
It simply read, “One down two to go.”
He opened the attachment, and when it downloaded, he watched and listened to the execution he ordered of Bogdan Gise. He then deleted the file and the message. He did not respond. He had faith that Viktor would follow through with the rest of his orders.
A knock at his door diverted his attention from the vision he had just seen. He quickly powered down the laptop, placed it in its concealed drawer, and slid it securely shut.
“Enter,” he said.
The door opened, and Maria Simpson walked in. “You wanted to see me, Joseph?”
“When they were in private, she called him by his first name. All other times she called him Mr. Lehan.
“Good morning, my dear,” he said. “Do you have an update on what Bar-Lev and Fromer are recommending? I would like to start scheduling my travel calendar, and I need to know if they are ready for that task.”
“I believe so, Joseph.
