“I am happy to say that I was able to escape unharmed, and that I fully intend to find those responsible for this attack and publicly out them myself.” I stared directly into the camera and hoped Bruno would see it. “I would say I’m sorry for those who were killed and their Cartel families, but that would be a lie. These people are monsters, and monsters deserve to rot in the ground.”
I turned off the camera, used my little contraption to upload the video to the phone, and sent it off to Jack. Almost immediately, I got a response saying it would air within the next thirty minutes once it was approved. I leaned over the truck and let the pain caused by Bruno, his men, and the explosion flow over me. I let it remind me why I was there. I packed away the camera and knew I needed sleep, but that wasn’t in the cards. I squinted into the sun as I made my way inside the gas station to get some food.
It took me a few hours and some testy moments with Rusty before I finally reached the town where I’d find the address Talya Canos had written. To say my head was on a swivel was an understatement, and by the time I got there, my shoulders were killing me from the tension I carried.
I’d made my career from chasing stories about the Cartel. I became an expert in forging fake relationships to get intel, and I wasn’t above using whatever was necessary to get what I needed. Minus my body—that was never on the table. There had been victories, perhaps small ones, but victories, nonetheless. Somehow, this time it felt different, like there was a level of darkness headed my way, and I only hoped I’d see it in time.
I checked the address twice as I parked and got out. I looked up at the massive church that towered above me. It was stunning, with its fifteen-foot stained glass window that depicted angels and doves in bright sunlight, long, golden pieces of glass like the sun’s rays looked to almost touch the Earth.
As magnificent as it was, something nagged at me as I walked up the steps toward the wooden doors. As I reached for the brass handle, I let my hand fall. It didn’t feel right.
I turned and looked around. If Talya was on the run and worried she might be followed, why would she leave the address in the room? She would burn it, or flush it, or take it with her. Why did she book the room for two nights yet stayed only one? My mind spun as I rehashed it all. Had there been someone on her tail? Did she plan on staying only one night but made it look like two? What if she’d planned on leaving after the first night and had the room booked for someone else for the second, and was that someone supposed to find this address and would know what it meant?
“All right, all right, all right.” I stopped my crazy spinning and looked around from the top of the church steps. “Why would I send someone here? Come on, Talya, talk to me.” I scanned the area. “If I had a baby, what would I need?” I spotted a market. “That would be handy for diapers and food and such.” I moved on to a taco truck. “That would be good for mom, quick food that took cash. Okay, so far, all that made sense to me. But what else? There needed to be a bigger reason. “Why bring someone here? If I were running from something or someone, I’d want to blend in…” My words trailed off as I spotted a sign held up by two concrete angels. Roughly translated, it read Hope Heaven Orphanage.
I hurried down the stairs and made my way toward the place. It took a few moments to find the door, as it was camouflaged by large shrubs. There were no handles, just a little intercom with a broken button at the bottom that dangled from some wires. I pushed the button back into place and hoped the wires were all still connected. I pressed it and waited, as I heard no bell sound come from inside.
“Sí?”
“English?” I knew many of the sisters who worked in Catholic orphanages spoke English.
“Name.”
“Nicole Winter. I’m looking for a friend. She might be in trouble, and I think I might be too. Can I please come in?” I hated that I had to lie to a sister of the church, but I needed to find that baby before Bruno or someone else. No child should be used as a poker chip in some Cartel power game.
The door creaked open, and a nun peered down at me. “Are you alone?”
“I am,” I promised. She stepped back and opened the door just wide enough for me to pass through.
“I’m Sister Margaret,” she said as she slid a big bar across the door. “Forgive the judgement, but we need to be careful. We often have unwanted visitors. These children are vulnerable, and it keeps us on our toes. Please follow me.”
“I understand, and thank you for letting me in.” I followed her down a long hallway to a comfortable sitting room where two sisters sat bottle feeding infants. My heart warmed at the sight, and I fought to keep back my own tears. So many children were born full of love and hope and had no idea what kind of a world they were about to grow up in.
“Sister Clara, Sister Maria, this is Nicole Winter. She is looking for a friend who may be in trouble.”
“Oh, dear.” The wrinkles around Sister Maria’s mouth deepened as she frowned. “What was her name? Perhaps we could help you.”
“She would have come by about a year ago, and her name was Talya Canos.” I noted a slight change in her expression. “She had her baby with her. I know she was running from someone.”
“That name doesn’t ring a bell.” Sister Margaret didn’t miss a beat when she answered, which instantly told me they knew something. “I’m sorry. We can’t help you.”
“Please,” I held up my hands, “I know her last name brings fear. Normally, it would put mine through the roof too, but you have my word I have no affiliation with the Cartels other than it’s my job to report to the world how horrendous they are. In spite of her last name, she’s my friend and is a good person, and I’m only trying to help. She’s in trouble, and the last time I spoke to her was just before she came this way. Please, you have to trust me. I’m scared for the baby.”
“Trust is something earned here, my child. We have many under our care.” Sister Margaret seemed to have made up her mind not to help me. “We don’t know this woman.”
“I’ve earned the trust of many.” I pointed to their television. “May I?” The three of them hesitated, but Sister Margaret finally nodded. I turned on the small set and switched the channel to CNN. Please work. “I’m her friend, but I also work for the press.” I nearly cried with glee when my video popped up. “See? I was there.” I pointed to myself and then pulled at my shirt to show that I was still wearing it. “I was there when that happened at the motel this morning. It’s about the Cartel. They are the ones who are looking for her.”
“Then you understand our position.” Sister Margaret’s eyes found mine. “The Cartel often send people here. We have never seen this woman.”
“Sister, please, I understand your fear. My job is to document the fighting between the Cartel families to help shine light on this never-ending war. I’m here to find my friend, yes, but also to help the locals get back a country that’s rightfully theirs.”
Sister Clara hugged the baby she now rocked close to her chest. “How did you know to look here?”
I reached back into my pocket and pulled out the address of the church. “Because she left this for me. I just didn’t get it until yesterday.”
“That address is across the street.” Sister Margaret stood and waved for me to follow her back to the front door. “Thank you, for what you do. Please, Lord, watch over this child.” She prayed, but I could see I wasn’t getting through to her. “Now, Ms. Winter, it’s time for you to leave.”
I closed my eyes and dropped my head and pulled my oval pendant of Saint Jerome Emiliani out of my shirt. I knew what I had to do. I needed them to truly trust and hear me, so I recited the prayer. “Lord, I pray for your protection over my child. Send your angels to guard them and keep them safe from harm.” I kissed the pendant of the patron saint of orphans and looked at the wings that were spread protectively around a baby.