“Can I have another doughnut?” Max asked, licking the powdered sugar off his fingers with exaggerated satisfaction.

Emma shook her head. He’d already eaten more carbohydrates than he should have for breakfast, which meant she’d had to increase his insulin dosage. Despite her instructions, Preston had brought back doughnuts and waffles, with strawberries and whipped cream, and no sugar-free syrup. “Come on, Emma,” he’d said softly. “We’re on the road. An extra doughnut won’t kill him.”

Little did he know. She’d almost set him straight. But at that point, Max had grinned broadly at her, as if Preston’s generosity signified an acceptance on his part, and she hadn’t said a word. She wanted Max to feel normal for a change, knew his illness would only alienate him further from Preston, who was already sensitive about having Max around. She thought she’d better continue to downplay the attention her son required, at least until they could get out of Ely.

“What are you doing?” Max asked.

Emma had picked up the phone, twice, and hung up without dialing. She wanted to call Rosa to see if there’d been any word from Juanita. But she was afraid of what the news might be. She already felt she was balancing on a high wire; it might not be smart to look down, to see how far she had to fall. Especially when she couldn’t do anything about the situation back home.

Or could she? Digging the envelope that had come from Juanita out of her purse, Emma stared down at the list of names and numbers on the paper inside it. She wasn’t sure it was enough to help her friend, but the possibility gave her hope.

“What’s that, Mommy?” Max asked.

“It’s nothing, honey.” She put her son in the bath, so he’d be occupied while she spoke to Rosa. Then she dialed the number. The call would be charged to the room, but she planned to pay Preston back in cash. Surely he wouldn’t mind as long as she reimbursed him.

Rosa answered immediately, as if she’d been sitting by the phone, waiting for it to ring.

“Rosa, it’s me,” Emma said, listening to Max play happily in the water with his action figures.

“Vanessa? Are you okay?”

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“Yes. Why?”

“I managed to reach Manuel last night. He said he’s found you, that you’ll be home soon.”

Emma’s blood ran cold. If not for Preston, Manuel would’ve caught her. He still might.

“Manuel doesn’t have me yet,” she said. “But I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to avoid him. Where was he when you talked to him?”

“The number on my caller ID started with seven-seven-five.”

“That’s Nevada.”

“I know. I called the operator after we hung up and asked. But she said the whole state, except for Las Vegas, has the same area code, so I can’t tell you exactly where he was calling from.”

Probably right here, maybe a block or two away. Emma rubbed the goose bumps that rose on her arms.

Max yelled, “Dive! Dive!”

Pulling the phone with her, Emma glanced into the bathroom to see an army guy take a flying leap.

“What about Juanita and Carlos?” she asked, turning away again. “Have you heard from either of them?”

“No, nothing. Manuel says he hasn’t seen them. But I know he is lying. I know it.”

Emma moved back to the nightstand and ironed the wrinkles out of the paper she’d extracted from her purse. Could this information help? She knew threatening a man as vengeful as Manuel was dangerous, but Juanita had risked herself for Emma’s sake. Now Emma had to reciprocate. “I’m so sorry, Rosa. This happened because of me. I was so sure he’d never suspect Juanita, or I wouldn’t have asked for her help.”

Once again, Rosa’s voice wobbled. “It’s not your fault. It’s Manuel. He’s the devil.”

“Rosa?”

“What?”

Emma heard Max talking in a high voice for one of his “men.” He was proclaiming, “Don’t worry, I’ll save you….”

“I’m in real trouble,” she said into the phone. “I have to buy Max more insulin. If I don’t, he could get very sick—or worse.” The bathroom had fallen quiet, so she checked on Max again. He was fine.

“What are you going to do?”

“I was hoping you would help me.”

Rosa hesitated. “How? Manuel, he…he frightens me.”

For good reason, Emma thought. But she couldn’t focus on that. A plan was forming in her mind. She knew it wasn’t the best plan in the world, but it was the only one she could think of that might throw Manuel off her trail and help Juanita at the same time. “With him and his men swarming the town, I’m afraid to leave my motel room. But…” She twisted the phone cord through her fingers as her mind raced. “What if…What if I called a motel somewhere else, in another town, and rented a room? You could tell him you talked to me, that you know where I am.”

“He thinks he already knows where you are.”

“But he hasn’t found me. You’ll tell him he’s looking in the wrong place. Offer to trade him my location for information on Juanita.”

Rosa was silent as she thought it over. “Do you think it might work?”

“We’ve got to try something.” Emma couldn’t risk going any longer without Max’s meds. “When you find out where Juanita is, tell him I saw his man go into my motel room last night and hitched a ride to—” Emma searched her mind for a plausible location that wasn’t in the direction she and Preston would actually be traveling “—St. George.”

“St. George? I don’t know this place.”

“It’s in southern Utah.”

There was another long silence. “Why would you need to rent a room there?” Rosa asked.

“Oh, no, it’s going off!” Max said, and made explosion sounds.

“As confirmation,” Emma said. “Manuel’s smart. He may not believe what you tell him. This way, if he calls all the motels in St. George and finds I’ve rented a room there—”

“It’ll convince him.”

“If luck is on our side.”

“What if he still won’t tell me where Juanita is?”

“Then we’re not any worse off than we are now, right?”

Rosa didn’t take long to decide. “Sí. Call me again in fifteen minutes, and I’ll let you know what he said.”




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