in the chair.
The next morning the cul-de-sac was as before. Right before noon, a sheriff’s vehicle pulled up in front of the Rubios’s cabin and Rafe Salazar, the sheriff Angela had contacted, went up their path, knocked on the door and then went inside.
Other than that, it was as if the attempted abduction and shooting had never taken place.
A good hour later Sheriff Salazar knocked at her door, as she’d known he would. Celia came out, looked the sheriff up and down and retreated to her room. She’d been taught that the police were the good guys, but she’d picked up on whatever negative vibes Angela gave off and knew to keep a low profile.
“Angela,” Sheriff Salazar said. “I hear you were a hero yesterday.”
“Unplanned. How is the man who was shot?”
“He’s going to be fine. Seems the Rubios’s garbage container slowed the trajectory of the bullet. It changed a scenario that could have been critical to just serious.”
Angela remembered the blood. She didn’t want to see what critical looked like.
“Sorry I wasn’t around,” Salazar continued. “I know my deputies handled it just fine.” He looked at the door Celia had just closed. “Let’s step out back.”
Angela’s yard spread a perfect vee of about three acres before bumping against the Santa Catalina Mountains. An old picnic table sat on the back patio.
“I half expected you to be gone.” The sheriff tested the picnic table’s bench before sitting.
Angela sat across from him. “I considered it.”
“What made you stay?”
“Personal reasons.”
“Your sister?” Sheriff Salazar queried.
Angela felt her hands going into fists, felt the nails dig in, and when she looked up, she saw concern in the sheriff’s eyes.
“Agent Topher called you.”
“He did. What I can tell you is that no one matching your sister’s description checked in at the station.”
Angela bit back a retort. Not even she knew what her sister currently looked like, so she wasn’t impressed with the information. She glanced over to the right where the Rubios’s backyard spread out in the same vee. Angela’s yard was empty; she hadn’t added anything to it yet. The Rubios, however, had two old cars, a broken-down boat and an assortment of trash.
“I know your situation, what you did and what it cost you. Keeping you safe is a top priority. I’m one hundred percent sure that what went down yesterday morning had nothing to do with you being here.”
“I believe that, too,” Angela said.
Sheriff Salazar was all cop. “I want you to avoid contact with them at all cost. Your neighbors owe money to the wrong people, among other things. We’re hoping to catch the men in the Cadillac soon. We figure they were picking up the boy in hopes of convincing Miguel to pay his debt.”
“Miguel.” Angela hadn’t known her neighbor’s name until yesterday. “Believe me, I realized they were neighbors to avoid the minute I first saw them. You know the home is rented in someone else’s name.”
“We know. It’s being rented by Judy Parker’s uncle. He thinks he’s helping.”
“Parker. They’re not married? Yesterday, I heard her say her name was Judy Rubio.”
“She’ll claim they’ve a common-law marriage, but such a thing isn’t recognized in Arizona. She’s been with him at least ten years. I know that because of their oldest son’s age.”
“They have children besides Billy?”
Salazar nodded, but said no more. Angela got the idea he didn’t enjoy talking about the Rubios. He returned to yesterday’s events. “Kidnapping’s serious, but I doubt that’s what the men will be charged with. Miguel will say they were friends wanting to take his boy for a ride and that neighbors got a little too involved. They’ll most likely be tried for attempted criminal homicide and aggravated assault.”
Angela nodded. “I’m surprised they shot the man in the garbage truck.” She studied Sheriff Salazar’s face, looking for any indication that he, too, was surprised that a forest ranger had been picking up trash in a garbage truck and wearing a shirt claiming his name was Albert.
“I was close enough for them to shoot,” Angela went on. “I got the sense that wasn’t their intent.”
Salazar didn’t so much as blink. “Adrenaline is a wicked conspirator. We suspect they were here to teach Miguel Rubio a lesson.”
If Miguel Rubio owed the wrong person money, it could get even uglier. She’d seen what man would do for the almighty dollar. “Maybe I should move to a different house in the area.”
“That might be a good idea. However, from what I’ve seen, once Rubio gets in trouble, he keeps his nose clean for a while.”
Angela nodded. She’d consider her next steps very carefully. “Will I be subpoenaed to testify?”
“I’ll do everything in my power to keep that from happening. It might be that Jake’s testimony is enough and that you can simply provide identification and a written statement.”
She leaned forward. Maybe she would finally find out what was going on. “Why was Jake Farraday pretending to be a garbage collector and why did the story not make the news?”
A shadow passed over the sheriff’s expression. “Albert is the regular, private, rural garbage collector. He’s an older gentleman who owns a lot of land in this area. He likes to keep it clean. Jake took over Albert’s route so he could keep a closer eye on the Rubios. In addition to owing people money, they might be involved in some illegal activities concerning wildlife.”
Sheriff Salazar made Angela add his direct number to her phone before he left, and Angela felt a tiny bit better. Funny after all these years of feeling panicked at dealing with cops, this one made her feel a little better.
She and Celia would stay. For now. The abduction had nothing to do with her. But, her involvement meant she needed to move quickly, find Marena and get out of here before someone decided to give her a second glance. It was time to visit Tucson, put a few belongings in a storage facility and plan for the worst.
She went inside, fetched her laptop, sat at the kitchen table and did some research on Jake Farraday. She found out he had never been married, had been a forest ranger for almost eleven years and used to be a cop.
Her first impression had been right.
He was someone to avoid, yet he’d saved Billy; his last words had been about saving her.
“Mom?”
Angela looked up at Celia’s voice. “Yes.”
“The little boy from next door is on our front yard. I think he wants you.”
“Is
