Just for the Birds Page 11

  I snagged the waiter on his way by and ordered chilaquiles with extra sour cream.

  “Now I can think positive.”

  Back at the rental, we went over the details of my day and night before and studied the photos. While I wasn’t able to video, I had the camera trigger, with a push to one side, set to thirty pics a minute so, when laid side by side, they painted a pretty good picture. We’d exhausted an entire color cartridge printing them out.

  “I’m glad I brought the printer,” Jan said. “Look here, tortilla breath.”

  “I’ll take that as the ultimate compliment,” I said. I got my cheaters and bent over the series of pictures she pointed to.

  I found myself staring at a long row of shots, the ones of the guy I called El Jefe.

  He had a baseball cap pulled low on his forehead, wore sunglasses and held a long gun. I carefully looked at each shot, but it wasn’t until one of the last few, when he turned toward the ranch house after shooting his own goon and almost hanging my dog, that I saw it.

  “Roger was right. It is Drew. I followed those jeans and that belt for hours last week while I was on that fat mule.”

  “And didn’t you think his mule skin belt was a little creepy? I doubt there’s another like it in the Baja. And if you remember, I even commented it was kinda weird that a dude living in the middle of freakin’ nowhere, running a mule-ride business, would wear Ralph Lauren jeans.”

  “Bastard!”

  “Son of a bitch!”

  “¡Pendejo! Trouble squawked.

  Roger and Craig arrived a little after four, dead tired. They’d driven ten hours to San Diego overnight, then caught the Tijuana to Loreto flight. The house only had two bedrooms, so we let them have one and Jan moved in with me.

  Truth was, we were all bushed. We had ideas about what came next but voted for an official nap-time-out. I’d had a rough night in the camper shell, Jan had driven from the Pacific Coast, and the guys only caught an hour here and there. We turned off all phones and devices, and covered Trouble in his shiny new cage.

  When I woke at six, everyone, including Trouble, was still snoozing. It was time for a meeting of the minds, so I uncovered and loosed the bird from hell. He headed straight for Jan, woke her with a serenade that sounded like Engelbert Humperdinck with a mouthful of rocks, then, satisfied, he sailed to Roger and Craig’s room.

  “Hetta!” Roger hollered. “Come get this piece of bird crap before I wring his scrawny neck.”

  “Never mind,” Craig yelled. “We’ll be right out, Trouble included.”

  Jan and I headed for the bar and concocted a huge pitcher of Cocolocos and were having our first one when Roger and Craig arrived.

  “Hey, where’s the bird?” I wanted to know.

  Roger unsnapped his bush jacket’s pocket and pulled out a grumbling Trouble. “You mean this one?” He let Trouble go, and he hopped onto my shoulder.

  “Oh, poor baby, what did that mean old man do to you?”

  “Mean man. Mean man.”

  Roger walked back into the bedroom, returned with a package of Oberto turkey jerky fresh from the States, and swung it back and forth like a hypnotist’s watch.

  Trouble’s head followed the package as it swayed in Roger’s hand, then let gluttony overcome ennui. He flew over and landed on Roger’s arm, walked down, and started tearing open the bag.

  “Oh, boy, are you easy,” I commented.

  “Ack! Hetta’s easy! Hetta’s easy!”

  “Okay, Roger, now you can wring his neck.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  THE CAMARADERIE OF finally being reunited with Jan, Roger, and Craig gave me an overwhelming sense of relief. I’d had a tough day or two, and while still worried about Po Thang, Topaz, and the whole situation at Rancho Los Pajaros, being with friends gave me comfort. We were laughing over Trouble’s antics when my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and my respite from worry took a powder. I had some ‘splainin’ to do.

  “Hi Jenks,” I said. Jan was whisper-singing, “Het-ta’s in trouble, Het-ta’s in trouble.” I sent her a death glare and drew my finger across my neck. Of course, you know who picked up Jan’s song, albeit louder and scratchier. Everyone cracked up and Jenks asked, “You having a party?”

  “No, it’s just Jan, me, Roger, Craig, and Trouble. Roger and Craig like it so much here they came back.” Okay, so I didn’t say where here was, so it was only a tiny little prevarication.

  “Great. Where’re Topaz and Po Thang?”

  “Uh, she took him for a walk.” The hem on my pants threatened to burst into flame. “How’er things in Dubai,” I added, quickly redirecting the questioning.

  “Same old, same old. But I have some good news. I’ve been called to a meeting in San Francisco in a few days, so I can come to the boat after. Can’t stay long, but sure am looking forward to seeing you, Red. How long are Roger, Craig and Topaz staying?”

  “Uh, not sure. But if they’re still here when you arrive we’ll kick ‘em to the beach and take off for the islands. Can’t wait to see you.”

  After we said our goodbyes I faced my jury. They didn’t look very forgiving.

  Jan raised a perfect eyebrow. “Surely you didn’t just tell Jenks that Topaz was out taking Po Thang for a walk?”

  “Don’t call me Shirley.”

  “Smarty pants.”

  “Smarty pants! Ack! Smarty pants!”

  I shot both Trouble and Jan the finger and was about to launch into a verbal tongue lashing when Craig stood up, put one hand horizontally over the other, and yelled, “Time out!”

  “Time out! Ack! Time ou—” Trouble was cut off as Craig cupped his wings between his huge palms, strode to the cage, and jammed him into it. Striding toward the patio where we all sat with our mouths open, he asked, “Who’s next?”

  I considered saying something like, “Someone didn’t get enough of a nap,” but thought better of it; that cage was pretty small. So I said, “You have our undivided attention.”

  He looked at me like I’d grown another head. “Whoa, this situation has more than one of us acting out of character. Look, we’re all tired, worried, and feeling helpless. So, let’s just get this thing done. Where do we start?”

  “I’m going to start with an apology for the entire screw-up,” I said.

  Jan nodded, “Me too.”

  “Jan, you didn’t do anything. It was all me and Topaz.”

  “Yabbut, if I’d a been here, I wudda.”

  We high-fived and said, at the same time, “We screwed up.”

  Roger, who wasn’t as familiar with our dynamic as Craig had become over the years, shook his head and tried to get the conversation back on track. “Nobody screwed up.”

  “Huh?” Jan and I said in surprise.

  “Let’s break it down. If you gals hadn’t gone gallivantin’ around the countryside, we wouldn’t know Drew was dirty. We’d think we were still after bird smugglers and not even know about the human traffickin’. We’d probably be goin’ at the whole thing differently, all the while thinkin’ we had plenty of time to save the birds. Those girls cudda been long gone. Maybe halfway to the Middle East.”

  Jan’s eyes grew wide. “Middle East? Oh boy, we heard all about that while we were in France. Evidently huge yachts owned by Middle Eastern bigwigs steam into Cannes and other Mediterranean ports loaded with hookers, most of whom are victims of white slavery. And the pimps aboard get a small fortune for their so-called guests to party aboard. We heard they charge as much as forty grand a night.”

  “So you think the birds are most likely headed to the US, and the girls somewhere else?”

  “I’d bet my boots on it.”

  “And Topaz? What will they do with her?”

  “Oh, she’s a good lookin’ gal, so as long as they don’t find out she’s a cop, they’ll sell her, too. She just won’t bring as much cuz she’s older.”

  “Po Thang?”

  Craig and Roger exchanged a somber look, and Craig to
ok the lead. “We’ll get him back, Hetta.”

  “And if we don’t?” I persisted.

  Craig sighed. “Worst case? Dog fights.”

  I felt faint. “Dog fights? Po Thang hasn’t got a mean bone in his body! He wouldn’t last…Oh. My. God. They’d use him for bait?”

  “No they won’t,” Roger said quietly, “because we’re gonna git him back. Safe and sound.”

  Jan, who lunged for the drink pitcher the moment our conversation turned to Po Thang’s possible destiny, filled both our glasses, and sat close to me on the divan. She patted my hand, lifted her drink, and said, “Safe! And! Sound!”

  We all raised our drinks to our new mantra, then got down to devising an attack plan for the next day.

  Here’s what we came up with: Jan, Trouble, and I’d take my pickup and return to the overlook where I left the camera the day before, while Craig and Roger rented two more cars. We agreed Jan’s Jeep was too distinctive, so they’d leave it parked near the rental agency.

  Roger would make a beeline for the mule skinner’s corrals, while Craig, in the other non-descript rental, would take a drive by the sanctuary. “Promise us you won’t end up in the birdcage with Topaz, Craig,” I said, as we all left on our assignments. “And Roger, you’re walking into the viper’s pit.”

  “Only the snake don’t know that I know he’s lower than a snake’s belly.”

  “Still, if you guys get shanghaied, you’ll have to rely on me and Jan to rescue you.”

  “Now, there’s an incentive to keep our butts free, huh, Roger?”

  I lightly slapped Craig’s muscular arm with the back of my hand. “Hey! We’re…uh, what are we, Jan?”

  “Fearless, loyal, and relentless,” she boasted.

  I chuckled. “I think you just described Po Thang and Trouble.”

  “Yep. We’re the fearsome foursome, primed to save the day.”

  Craig and Roger exchanged a doubtful glance. “Like Craig said, we’d best stay out of harm’s way on our own. Orders of the day, troops! Safe and sound!” He waved his hands like a symphony conductor and we all chanted, “Safe! And! Sound!”

  En route from Loreto towards our mountain spy spot, Troubled sing-songed, ad nauseam, “Safe! And! Sound.”

  Finally, Jan had enough. She snatched him from his cage and held his beak to her nose. “If you don’t shut the hell up, you’re not going to be any of those things, ya hear me?”

  He gently nibbled her nose. “Ack! Trouble’s a pretty bird.”

  “That’s better. For that, you get some of that jerky your uncles brought you.” She gave him a piece and plopped him on her shoulder. “And don’t drop any on me. Or anything else, for that matter.”

  “Ack! Trouble’s a pretty, pretty, pretty bird.” Every pretty went a decibel higher.

  I stuck a finger in my ear and said, “I’ve been thinking.”

  “That never bodes well.”

  “Wise ass. We need to devise a plan for the future, which includes Trouble illegally immigrating to Arizona.”

  “He’ll have to get in line.”

  “Part of Roger’s ranch spans the border, and there is only a barbed wire fence. He can fly right on over, and I doubt there’s anyone that would take the trouble, you should excuse the intended pun, to shoot him down with a drone.”

  “So, as a reward and expense for them coming to our aid, we dump the little bugger on Craig and Roger? I like it.”

  “I knew you would. We’ve smuggled Trouble across the border before, and we can do it again.”

  “I might remind you that we all got busted, placed under house arrest, and Trouble was damned near euthanized by Cochise County authorities.”

  “We’ll be smarter this time.”

  “Har! Har!” Trouble crowed.

  Everyone’s a critic.

  Chapter Twenty

  I’D LEARNED THE hard way the past two days that cell service was iffy in the area where we’d be, so we were all carrying VHF radios with extended antennas, and they were set to marine channel 88—which is seldom used in Mexico—and on low power. The chances of picking up a signal from boats in either the Pacific Ocean or the Sea of Cortez were slim, but we do get bounces, so I chose this rarely used channel, just in case our phones didn’t do the job.

  After our scramble up that dastardly trail that seemed paved with marbles, Jan and I made camp as livable as possible. She helped me set the camera up and took a quick look at the sanctuary and ranch, while I hooked up all our equipment to solar chargers. This time we brought a laptop computer, as well, and extra batteries.

  “What’s happening down there?” I asked Jan, as I checked my phone for service and found a less-than-satisfying two bars.

  “Real quiet. There’s a goon sitting down with his head propped up against the birdcage gate, and he seems asleep.”

  I was aiming our solar chargers directly into the sun and checking their output into our various devices. “I’m not surprised. Except for Drew, every one of those dudes is five cans short of a six pack. And that idiot asleep with his head up against the gate? Topaz could garrote him in a heartbeat, so she must be waiting for a clean getaway.” I heard Po Thang suddenly raising hell. “What’s up with the dawg?”

  “Oh, hell, he’s staring straight up at us. I know he can’t see us, but the wind is blowing in his direction, so he’s picking up our scent. I’m surprised we can hear him.”

  “That’s his outside, I’m-upset, bark. His loudest.”

  “Okay, I got an eyeball on Topaz. She’s moved next to Po Thang and is hugging him. She obviously knows we’re here and is trying to distract him. I cannot believe the guard is sleeping through all the racket.”

  “Maybe Topaz done did him in?”

  “No such luck. Idiot-boy just turned over. Aha, there’s an empty tequila bottle by his side. Puzzle solved. Amateur!” Jan snapped off photos and we sent them to Roger and Craig, who were both on their way up the mountain from Loreto in separate vehicles.

  I refilled my coffee mug and moved to take over the camera. Just as I did, we heard a new noise below. Po Thang started baying a “someone’s coming” warning, but this time he was focused on the main road. Topaz, who had him in a headlock of love, pushed her sunglasses up into that shaggy hair of hers and stared intently in our direction. She gave us a covert thumb’s up, which I caught on camera.

  “Topaz just telegraphed a sign. She knows we’re here, for sure.”

  “For all the good that does,” Jan snorted.

  “Hey, if I were being held hostage by a gang of lowlifes, I’d garner some comfort knowing friendlies were nearby. I wish we could communicate with her. Oh, oh! She just gave me a ‘bang! bang! You’re dead!’ gesture. She’s still got my gun!”

  “Now that’s the best news we’ve had in days.”

  “Uh-oh, we got a bandit, Miss Jan!”

  “Where?”

  “Driving in the ranch entrance gate. That skunk, Drew, just jumped out of his pickup truck. Hoo-boy, he’s tearing that guard a new one. Get the binocs. This is too good to miss.”

  I zeroed in on the dust-up below. Po Thang was beside himself, charging the fence over and over as the derelict guard tried to protect himself from El Jefe by curling into a fetal position. Drew repeatedly kicked him with his silver-encased, pointy-toed cowboy boots. I’d noticed they were very sharp when he led us up the mountain last week, but I didn’t think much about them because he never used them on his mule. Finally, Drew ran out of steam and stormed away, leaving the hapless guard in a heap.

  Was it only a week ago when we took that ride? Seemed like a year. “I hope Drew shoots the guy like he did the other one. At the rate he’s going, there won’t be any of his gang of goons left for us to deal with.”

  “Dang. I was looking forward to that part.”

  I grinned, knowing full well she meant it. “No honor amongst thieves, and all of that. You wanna switch?

  “Sure.”

  After only twenty minutes with
my eyes glued to the camera lens cup, and clicking the occasional photo, I was already in pain. The day before had done a job on my neck and shoulder muscles that no amount of Aleve fixed. I stepped back, rolled my arms, and groaned.

  Jan said, “I’ve got the camera duty. Look in my jacket pocket for a bubble pack of large white pills.”

  “Got ‘em.”

  “Take one with a lot of water.”

  “What are they?”

  “Truthfully, I have no idea what’s in them, but they’re over-the-counter in Mexico and work wonders for me and Chino. Take one, Chica. It’s gonna be a long day.”

  “Bless you, Doctor Jan.” I popped a Caradoxin and did some more Yoga neck and shoulder exercises. Within a few minutes my neck loosened up and the pain subsided. “Good news, Jan. Those pills do work wonders.”

  “Oh, oh, Drew is coming back out. Maybe he’s not through beating up on that guard.”

  “Hopefully so.”

  “Shoot, the guard ran away. Hey, Drew’s carrying a large bowl and two cans of what looks like dog food. Even better, he emptied them into the bowl and shoved it into the cage for Po Thang.”

  “Probably just keeping him fattened up for dog fights,” I grumbled. “What else is going on?”

  “Drew’s chatting with Topaz. Her body language screams submissive. Damn, she’s good.”

  “One or both of us should learn to read lips, for sure. Do they have classes for that?”

  “Probably. We’ll Google it right after we’ve slain the villains and rescued our damsel in distress.”

  “Speaking of, any word from the B-team?”

  “You okay to take the watch again? I’ll check for messages.”

  I stepped up to the camera just as Drew turned away from Topaz and walked toward the house. Within seconds, Topaz, using hand signals, was communicating with the girls. Smart of her not to admit she spoke fluent Spanish.

  “Okey dokey, podner. News from the B team. Roger got our photos, knows Drew isn’t at the mule ranch, and is going in to toss the joint. Maybe we’ll get a handle on how big this operation is and, more importantly, what they plan to do with everyone in that birdcage.”