Chapter 1

"Deacon?" the voice on the phone asked.

"Been expecting you to call," I replied

"Yeah, I don't trust these guys any more."

"You never could, but that's just me talking."

"Seems you are right as usual. So the ticket will be at the airport, if that's okay."

"Gonna' need two."

"Done," the voice replied without even asking. The voice didn't even bother with a goodbye. We both knew that I would be seeing him in a matter of hours. I would be on the next plane. The tickets at the counter, and the reservations, would be for that flight. That's just what families do. It's how my family had lived for as long as I could remember. Probably longer than I could remember.

I killed half an hour looking out the picture window of the camping trailer at the lake. I watched a couple of deer on the other side of the lake drinking at the edge. Then I dialed the number from the yellow pages.

From the United Airlines reservation desk I found the time of the next flight that connected to Mexico City. I didn't much like making the next call but I didn't think that I had any choice. I didn't call him often but then hell he still owed me one. "Mike this is Deacon. I need a favor."

"Deacon, I don't kill people you know that." His voice had only a half jesting tone.

"That ain't the favor. I need you to do what you do."

"That being the case you got it. This is gonna make us even?" The question was in his tone. I liked that he wanted to close the books, even more than the fact that he remembered he owed me.

"Yeah, this will do it. You got a passport?" I asked it as a second thought.

"Sure everybody has got one of those don't they."

"Most everyone I 'spect. There is a plane ticket for us at the United desk at the airport. Fight leaves at 6 A.M."

"Where we going and what do I need to take along?" He asked it for information not as a complaint.

"Bout the only thing I can think of is brush clothes."

"Then you were serious?"

"I was. My niece is missing in Sannadad."

"That resort in Mexico? Okay Deacon, I'll be on the plane."

"Good Mike, I appreciate it."

"Do you speak Spanish?" I was caught off guard by that one. The significance of the question flooded my mind.

"No, do you?" I asked.

"Nope, Deacon we are going to need an interpreter. I think one from here not down there."

"I agree." The connection broke without either of us saying goodbye. I began pacing and racking my brain as I went. I had no idea who to call. It struck me that I should know someone who spoke Spanish. I just couldn't for the life of me come up with anyone. I finally had to call my cousin in Chapel Hill. He was the only one I knew who might could come up with a Spanish speaking person. Hell, he was a professor at one of the largest and best know universities in the world. Okay they were known best for their basketball team but still.

"Jeff, it's Deacon. I need a favor."

"You haven't spoken to me in two years and out of the blue you need a favor. What, you need to hide from some pissed off husband?"

"Don't you ever watch the news. Shelley is missing in Sannadad."

"You mean that is Tim's Shelly?"

"Yes that's what I mean."

"What the hell can I do?" He wasn't making a 'what can I do' cop out, he was asking.

"I need someone who speaks really good Spanish to come with me to Sannadad. I don't want a local or a cop to do the interpreting." I paused while he thought. "And Jeff, they need a strong stomach."

"Yeah, when do you need them?"

"The plane leaves at 6 A.M."

"Not much time," he said.

"Shelley might not have much time."

"Well I might have to drive your interpreter to the airport myself, but you will have one waiting."

"Thanks Jeff, I owe you."

"Now that's a novel thought. As if I need you to owe me one to get one." He paused then added. "When this is over come see me and tell me all about it."

"Thanks Jeff, I'll have Tim's wife bake you a cake."

"Hell, I bet Eddie makes better cakes. That's why I'm gay. It was the only way I could get him to cook for me."

"Wake his ass up and get him to help you find someone. Thanks Jeff." He didn't answer because the phone was dead before I could finish.

I packed what little I could. Most of what I wanted to pack would never make it onto the plane. First I packed the harmless looking surveillance gear, then I packed clothes and a large bar of Irish Spring soap. It is my preference to use in making a sap aka blackjack. When inside a sock, and swung nice and hard, it will crush a skull like an egg. It smells good to. I searched around for my high topped work boots from Wal-Mart. I wore them more for the boot laces than the protection. I was pretty sure I would need at least the brush protection, but the laces might also come in handy. A nice strong piece of rawhide with a dinner fork tied to each end makes a more than satisfactory garrote. Of if I were my Uncle Deacon, the forks would be enough to do the job. Yes I'm young Deacon, Uncle Deacon is retired, but he is still Uncle Deacon. Tim would most likely have rather had him. but Uncle Deacon was living in seclusion somewhere out west.

The time passed slowly but it did pass. I was the first one at the airport as it should have been. Mike was a shock. The last time I saw him he had jet black hair and wore it just above shoulder length. That morning he looked just plain old. His hair was several inches below his shoulder and it was mixed with a lot of gray. I wouldn't have recognized him, if he hadn't been the only American Indian in the place at 5 A.M.

"Deacon, you are a lot younger than I remember."

"And you are older," I replied.

"Too many dead," he admitted.

"Yes far too many." I paused a few seconds then said, "We might as well check in."

At the desk I explained who I was and that there were tickets waiting for us. Since the attack on New York, everything was suspect. I was glad to see that the world had caught up to my family. Mike and I endured the searches and the questions with fairly good humor. The guards over looked about a dozen weapons but they did look for the ones which they were trained to look for.

"Don't see your interpreter," Mike commented.

"Me either, we might have to rely on a local."

"Bad business," Mike suggested.

"I agree." I nodded to Mike when I saw Jeff rush through the doors. He had a skinny kid in tow. At first I thought it was a boy, but then I decided it was a teenaged girl. When the two of them got closer, I realized she was at least in her mid twenties maybe a bit more. she was small and frail looking.

"Mike, would you get her started please." I turned my attention to Jeff. "What the hell are you doing. She isn't going to have to do much but she might have to walk a mile or two."

"Deacon, shut the fuck up." Now only a family member would dare to do that. "She is from a small town in San Salvador. She fought with the rebels and is as tough as a rawhide chew. She works with Eddie at the hospital. When I told him, he called her and she agreed. You are going to have to pay her enough to get her father into the country. I didn't figure with Tim money would be a problem."

"I doubt that it will be. Okay but Jeff, if she sells me out and I live, you won't."

"Wouldn't have it any other way amigo."

"It's a good thing when family understands each other."

"Ain't it just," he said grinning. "Too bad you don't have time for breakfast."

"Next time." I shook his hand.

The woman's name was unpronounceable by me. I just couldn't get my anglo tongue around it. Since it started with a syllable that sounded like Meg, that became her name. She sure as hell didn't look like a Meg but that was alright.

The woman had two small suitcases, which was one more than either Mike or I had. We went through yet another question and answer interview, not to mention the search. They finally allowed us to board the plane that took us to the plane for Mexico City.

In the Mexico City airport Mike spotted a man carrying a sign with my name. We walked to him in a ragged line. "I'm Burke," I said as we approached.

"Mr. Burke, I have a cab outside to take you to the general aviation terminal." In the states general aviation was private planes and corporate jets. Since the man with the sign was American, I assumed that might meant the same thing to him.

"Got a chopper there to take you to the resort." He said that after we were safely inside his cab.

"You work for the Sannadad Resort?"

"Leased to them at the moment. I fly all the vips down."

"So my little band of cut throats are considered VIPs."

"Mr Burke, we all remember what happened on Aruba. We would just as soon there not be a repeat here,"

"Good, then you have found my niece?"

"Not yet, at least not that I know of. I do know there is a search going on now."

I looked over to see Mike shake his head. I knew he was expecting the place to be trampled to nothing. I was expecting it to. Mike was most likely a futile gesture but one we needed to make anyway. "So how long in the chopper?"

"Less than an hour, but not a lot less."

He was on the mark since it took us 48 minutes by my watch. After the first five minutes we flew over mostly jungle with a few small villages carved out here in and there. We left the mainland, then took a hard right turn. We ran parallel to the narrow beach for a few minutes before the resort came into view.

The resort was on what was almost an island but not quite. The three miles long and one and a half mile wide strip of earth would have been and island had it not been for the land bridge back to the mainland. The land bridge was a strip of volcanic rock a hundred yards wide and five time that long. It alone put the resort on a peninsula instead of an island.

Tim was waiting for the chopper. I spotted him by his stone gray hair. It had been that way since he was twenty five. Unfortunately he had grown into it. At forty he was still too gray for his age, but on him I was told it looked sexy. I expected that when mine turned gray I would just look old.

I took my one bag from the pilot and walked toward my bother. "I hate to see you like this Tim, but it is good to see you." It was true that we didn't see much of each other even though we lived in the same town. We traveled in totally different circles.

"Do you remember Mike?" I asked it turning to my companion.

"Yeah, Mike how are you."

"Sorry for your troubles," I was about as much as we were going to get from him. I introduced Meg and she did about the same. She hadn't said a dozen words since we left home that morning.

"Tim, we need to sleep. We have been in the air all day. How about you and I meet for a few minutes, then we can begin tomorrow morning fresh."

"Okay." I could tell he was disappointed. It was late afternoon. My party was all dead on their feet.

"Space is hard to come by here but I found you a cabana inside the resort. At least you won't have to deal with the tourists."

"It will do fine for now. We may decide to move to a more quiet place later. For now a cabana in the resort is fine." Mike gave me a stare that reminded me what he had said. He didn't sign on for a killing. He shouldn't worry if it came to that, I would be the one doing it.

The little jeep made up like a whore's ride drove us to the cabana. It was a two bedroom affair but that was enough since there was a sofa in the living room. I didn't mind the sofa at all. It was plenty long enough for my 5'11" body. I began by looking for a blanket to cover myself.

"Deacon you can have your pick of the bedrooms." It was the Central America woman who said it.

"Oh that's okay I don't mind sleeping on the sofa. It is as big as my bed at home."

"No Deacon, you don't understand." It was Mike who nodded toward Meg that finally made me understand.

"Ah okay, then give me the one with the largest bed. You won't need much space." I grinned at Meg. She looked away but smiled. Mike didn't say a word, he just walked into one of the bedrooms. That left me alone in the other one. Those two had somehow made a connection while we flew half way across America. I hadn't seen either of them speak more than a dozen words. Somehow they got what needed to be said, said.

I hadn't even unpacked when Tim showed up at the door. He carried a bottle of Jack Daniels black and a large bag of ice. I hadn't even looked about our place so I had no idea if I had ice of my own.

"How about Mike and the girl?" he asked pouring me a drink.

"They are pretty worn out, I think they have already fallen asleep." Just then the air was cut with a load groan. It was definitely Meg and she wasn't in pain. Tim looked at me, but he couldn't smile. "Alright Tim what do the locals think happened?"

"Shelly was in the casino with a group of kids around ten. They all moved to the disco next door."

"By next door do you mean in the hotel or in another building?"

"The disco is in the next hotel. They seemed to have straggled over. Shelly never made it over." He paused and I waited, but didn't go on.

"Surely somebody saw something?"

She had been talking to a guy who also never made it to the disco. Everyone thought she left for the beach with him."

"Did she?"

"Deacon, I have no idea what she did. I would like to think she was smart enough not to go walking on the beach after midnight with an almost total stranger, but I can't be sure."

"So what does that boy say?"

"He says he left the dinner club then went straight home. He says he never saw her after she left for the disco."

"And do we believe him?"

"Deacon, I don't know." Tim had never called me Deacon with such sincerity. Before there had always been a bit of scorn or at least levity when he did. He mostly called me Charlie which is my name by the way. That night he called me Deacon and it slipped off his tongue easily.

"So Shelley went to the ladies room according to this kid. It's been almost a week Tim, has the kid gone home yet."

"He lives here. His dad is the manager of the Holly Ridge at lands end."

"How far is it to this Holly Ridge?"

"About a quarter mile up the beach. Nothing is very far here."

"I didn't see a marina when we flew in?"

"No marina, each hotel has a few boats for para sailing and the like, but no real marina."

"Did the cops check all the boats on the island?"

"Not that I know of. They are working on the supposition that she left on her on."

"Why the hell would she do that?"

"They are thinking she went into the village for drugs."

"Was she taking drugs?" I asked it without making a judgement about it.

"No way, the cops here are just nuts. There are two village constables and some soldiers who keep order. There are private security people for the resort. This place is a world all its own. Nobody wants to make noise here. We feel like we need them to keep looking or we would be raising hell."

"Its been four days, no make that five its after midnight, it's time to raise hell Tim. I want you and Mitch on the nightly news every night. This has to make the resort hurt, or they are going to try to shove it off on the locals. We need the Mexican police in here full force, not some people with an interest in keeping this quiet."

"That's what I thought, but they kept telling us they were doing all they could."

"Well that doesn't seem to have been much."

"The Mexican police don't seem all that interested in getting involved. This place seems to be its own little country. The security people here have the power of arrest. They enforce whatever Mexican laws they choose."

"Tim, I hope to hell you didn't know that before you sent Shelly here."

"I didn't send her. A bunch of kids from her school came down. We had no idea what was going on, but neither do any of the other several thousand tourists who come here every year."

"Are you on good terms with the chief of security for the resort?"

"Pretty good, I've been holding my tongue but it is bloody from the biting."

"I want to see him first thing in the morning."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Tim, if you can't do it let me know, and I'll work something else out. I also want to talk to all the kids who were with her. If they have gone get me on a conference call to them one at a time. I'm sure Mitchie wouldn't mind working that out. She has to be going nuts."

He left around nine, I was passed out at by nine thirty. The sounds coming from the second bedroom didn't keep me awake. I'm not sure what they did for Mike and Meg.

The next morning I awoke first. The coffee was on when the two lovers came into the kitchen/living room.

"Morning you two, coffees on the counter over there." I pointed to the kitchen cabinet.

Meg went to stand on the patio with her coffee before Mike asked, "Are you okay with the sleeping arrangements?"

"I am, if you are. If they get to be complicated, let me know. I can always sleep on the beach." I smiled at him. Just to let him know the he and Meg would be sleeping in sand before me.

"Yeah," he said rising. He took his coffee and joined Meg. The two of them were obviously trying to prove my high school science teacher wrong. They were trying hard to occupy the same space at the same time. I answered the phone while they continued to watch the ocean.

"Yes," I said into the plastic headset without a wire.

"Deacon, the resort security man will meet you in an hour."

"Good, thanks Tim. You gonna come by to drive me."

"Sure."

"He does speak english?"

"Actually he doesn't, at least not very well."

"Okay, I think we will try to make his life a little easier, for today anyway."

Once the phone connection was cut I said, "Meg, I'm going to need you to go along to the security people's office." She nodded her acceptance.

"You need me to?" Mike asked. I sure as hell hoped that Meg wasn't going to be a distraction for him.

"No Mike, why don't you find something to amuse yourself."

"Think I'll take a walk around the island."

"Good Idea, I expect that I'll have a better idea where to walk when I get back." Mike just nodded.

The resort wasn't just a single hotel but a complex of them. Each ran independently of the others but all were members of the Sannabal resort community. The community had its on water and sewer system. It would be the envy of Mexico City, if it had conformed to any rules. Sannabal had only to keep its nose clean and the rest of Mexico ignored it. Probably because it paid huge taxes. It most likely paid even more in bribes. It was my plan to shake Sannabal to its foundation before lunch.

Meg and I rode in the back of the Jeep/Surrey while Tim rode in the front with the driver. She whispered to me. "We haven't spoken often Mr. Burke but Mike has told me a great deal about you. He also told me that this might become unpleasant. I do not want you to worry about me. In my home there is much unpleasantness. Both Jeff and Mike tell me that if you are involved, we will be on God's side in this."

"I'm not sure about God's side, but you are on the right side of this."

"The right side is always God's side Deacon."

"Then Meg, you should pray for the ones on the other side."

"I think I will leave that to those who are a bit more forgiving." Meg never smiled while she spoke. She had the hollow look of one who had seen the face of evil and lived. I hoped that when she saw it again, she could remember it was God's side she was on.

The Sannabal security office was in a building in a small shopping plaza across from an American style hotel. The plaza boasted what at home would be a fast food cafe.

"Tim, make the introductions then leave."

"What? I'm not going anywhere."

"If this guy gets pissed and I can't reason with him, I don't want him to hold it against you."

"I guess that makes sense, but I don't like it." Tim honestly didn't look happy about being kept in the dark yet again.

The slightly less that middle aged man was introduced to me as Colonel Estavan. After we all said out greetings Tim left quietly. Estavan was shocked. It was most likely going to get worse for him.

"Colonel if you don't mind we will speak in Spanish. I have an interpreter here." I nodded to Meg. "I don't want you to accidentally chose a wrong word. She is the best there is." I had no idea if it were true or not, but she was the girl who brung me so I was gonna dance with her.

The colonel just nodded. I don't think he was too impressed with me. It is true that I wore work pants and a white cotton shirt open at the neck. It was most likely that the tee shirt I wore had a small hole at the knit neckline. All those thing made me seem a bumpkin, which I probably am.

I spoke to him in english. "Could you tell me the status of the investigation. I want to especially know the official theory of what happened to Shelly."

Meg rattled off a burst of Spanish then waited. The colonel spoke slowly at first. His words built up steam and he got more confident as he went along.

"The colonel says he can not give you the details of the investigation. Doing so would compromise any potential prosecution by the Mexican government. As for what they think happened to your niece, he isn't at liberty to say."

"Ask him exactly what he is at liberty to say?" I kept my voice calm because I knew it was going to turn ugly soon. Meg rattled off more Spanish and the Colonel answered in Spanish. He seemed almost cocky.

"He says you have most likely heard it all before. Four nights ago Shelly and her friends were headed to a club outside her hotel. She stopped at the ladies room and no one has seen her since."

I spoke directly to him and Meg translated both ways. "Do you have surveillance cameras in the parking lot of the Hotel where she was staying?"

"Of Course," he answered smiling.

"Did you review the tapes from that night?" His face clouded over.

"That is part of the on going investigation." He looked nervous. If he had checked, he didn't like being questioned.

"Do they have cameras on the beach side?"

"Yes," he answered carefully.

"Where are they mounted on the hotel or on the beach shooting back at the hotel."

"I'm sorry you are getting into the details of the investigation now."

I turned my attention to Meg. I spoke in English but slowly enough for him to follow, even if he were a complete idiot, which he wasn't "I want you to ask him if he knows what the impact of the coverage of the Holloway girl's investigation did to the Aruban tourist business. If he does know, I want you to ask him what he thinks the Mexican Government will think of that kind of loss here. Then I want you to tell him that a Fox News producer owes me a favor. Then I want you to tell him I have no problem sinking this resort in red ink and/or the whole damn Mexican economy for that matter." I switched my gaze to the Colonel. Tell him I said this is family and I take that real personal." I sat quietly while she relayed the message to Estaban in Spanish. He used the time to calm down. He didn't like being threatened. I almost hoped he would come over the desk. It might prove interesting.

Instead after a few words aimed at Meg, he sat back with a more serious look than he had before.

"The colonel said to do what you had to do." She had a hint of a smile. She wanted to see what I would do.

I took the cell phone from my pocket. I dialed the number from a Fox News card I carried in my wallet. "Samuel this is Deacon. Yeah I know I was supposed to come to New York, but what the hell do you have there that I would want." I listened to him try to convince me to come for a drunken visit.

"Samuel have you heard about that girl going missing in Sannabal. Good, its my niece and they don't seem to want to do anything about it. As a matter of fact, they have their own private police force here and they are stone walling me. How about you send someone down. I think this about to get interesting."

"No not interesting like the middle east... well you never know come to think of it... I'll be expecting them." I turned my attention to the colonel who was a different shade of red. I still waited for him to come over the desk, and it was looking more likely all the time.

"Now Meg, you tell that son of a bitch, I just did what I had to do. When the reporters get here, my story is going to depend a lot of what I hear from him." She delivered the translation with a smile. He started to speak but I stood and turned my back on him.

"Come on Meg, tell him I don't want to hear from him again until he is ready to tell me what is happening. If he doesn't want to talk, I will do this the hard way." I was out of the office when Meg came running after me.

"My God he is angry. I expected him to try to kill you."

"Well honey the day is young," I laughed as we found Tim waiting with the Surrey driver. They had found a bit of shade.

"Tim, see if you can find another bungalow. A fox news crew will be in tonight or tomorrow."

"So we are going to go on the offense. I expect Mitch will be upset. She didn't want me to call you. She hoped this would all get settled without a melt down."

"It still might."

"Sure." Tim didn't look all that hopeful.

"Who does the driver work for?"

"I hired him," Tim said.

"Meg, ask him who says he can work on the resort. If there is a license or something that allows it."

It only took a couple of minutes but there were three different exchanges. I feel like she either explained what I meant or did a little convincing. "He has a license from the Mexican Government to carry passengers but the resort has a list of approved drivers."

"Ask him if he has been told to report our movements to either."

That conversation took a bit longer. Her eyes flashed as she spoke. He said that he is to report to the security office every evening."

"That is why we aren't being followed." I said it to myself.

"So what are we going to do for a driver?"

"Oh we are going to use this one, but we aren't going to talk in the car and we aren't going to invite him to dinner. We are also not going to pay him." He spoke enough english to understand that much.

"If he doesn't want to drive us free, I will see to it that the colonel knows that he told us he is a snitch." Meg looked at me curiously. "Informer." She nodded before explaining it to the driver. "Don't feel bad for him Meg He is getting paid by the resort, you can count on it." She nodded.

"So, what do we do next?" It was Tim who asked.

"Tim, you need to understand, you are to stay above what I do. I don't want you involved in any of it. Just do what I ask, when I ask, and I will try to keep your involvement to a minimum from now on."

"But she's my daughter," he replied exasperated.

"Stop the Jeep," I demanded. When the driver pulled over, I walked away. Tim followed but Meg knew enough to give us room.

"Listen Tim, I called Fox News. There is a crew coming in tonight or tomorrow. The resort is going to be pissed and they are going to want to stop any information flow that they can. I need for you to stay above it, so you can talk to the news people with righteous indignation. You aren't a good enough actor to do that if you are part of the behind the scenes effort."

"Okay, but you are going to keep at this."

"Tim, I haven't even started yet." I smiled to reassure him. I hoped that it would work because I wasn't all that confident. I put my arm around his shoulder on the way back to the car. It it wasn't the first time that I ever did that, but it was the first that I could remember. We weren't a touchie feelie bunch. But no one should make the mistake of thinking we weren't close. Trouble bonded us together like the two parts of epoxy cement.

Tim, dropped Meg and I at the bungalow, then he drove off in the jeep. I had his hotel name and the room number. I could reach him when I needed. Mike was waiting on the patio. He wore a swimsuit and nothing else.

"You on vacation?" I asked it not unpleasantly.

"Till you can tell me what to do next I am yes."

"What's this soil like." I had not a single doubt that he knew all there was to know.

"Sandy down about two feet, then it is a hardpan. Not sure what kind of stone but I expect the whole place is on a rock of some kind." I nodded.

"Where did you get tools to dig with?" Meg asked admiringly.

"Breakfast," He replied pointing to the covered tray on the table. Meg wandered over to lift the cover. The plate was empty and the silverware was badly scratched.

"You dug down two feet with a knife and fork?"

"Don't forget the cereal spoon," he added. Mike wore a large smile for her. Then he turned to me. "Now what?"

"Now we go to the hotel where Shelly disappeared." Meg and I had lunch in the coffee shop of the hotel, while Mike looked around the outside. Outside was his area of expertise. If I had one at all, it would be convincing people that they wanted to tell me the truth.