Page 65 of The Perfect Stranger

Chapter Twenty-Three

“The next flight leaves for New Mexico in forty-five minutes with a half an hour stop-over in San Antonio,” Rebecca, the check-in attendant announced almost robotically while reading off her screen.

“I only need to get to San Antonio. Any seats?”

“It must be your lucky day. We had a small church group cancel due to apparent illness, so I have nine seats available as of four hours ago.”

Divine intervention.

“I’ll take one.”

“I need a ticket to San Antonio,” a voice at the next counter caught my attention.

He was solo. Just like me.

Only a small carry-on bag. Just like me.

And he seemed a little too on edge. Just like me.

“Excuse me,” Rebecca called to get my attention. “I just need your ID.”

“Of course,” I muttered while searching my wallet and keeping one eye trained on the man next to me. He too handed over his driver’s license, and we both stood waiting for our tickets to process.

His attendant, quick to get back to the steaming cup of coffee behind her was quicker. “Thank you Mr. Ruiz. Enjoy your flight.” She smiled at the senior Baja cartel member who wore a permanent scowl.

“Thank you, Mr. Anderson. Enjoy your flight,” Rebecca relayed virtually the same farewell.

This day just continued to get better and better. While Jair Ruiz wandered over to the window overlooking the stationed planes to make a phone call, I messaged Gabriel.

Me:Where is the new border crossing for Baja?

Gabriel:South of San Antonio at Nuevo Laredo.

Gabriel:Why?

It was best not to tell.

I tapped my cell against my palm, contemplating the next move. My window of opportunity was closing. Once off the plane, I would have to move fast. Jair Ruiz being on the same flight as me was a blessing. He would lead me straight to her.

We landed a few hours later and just like on the plane, I remained behind Ruiz at all times. He didn’t seem suspicious and never once indicated he knew of my involvement. There was a lull between flights resulting in minimal foot traffic through the airport and an abundance of cabs at the ready. Ruiz took the first in line and I the second. We headed south, bypassing the city and continuing until the green grass met the brown desert and then beyond. Outside the city of San Antonio, stuck under the blazing sun, was a tourist trap of a place that the locals would have maybe even called a small town. There were three motels, a car rental, a small line of boutique junk shops and a supermarket.

Ruiz’s cab indicated right and then pulled into the parking lot of Hortz’s Motel.

“Stop here.” My driver claimed a carpark in the supermarket lot adjacent to the shit-hole accommodation. Paying the fare, I watched while Ruiz visited reception for his room key. Nina had to be around here somewhere, but she wasn’t going to be my first visit. The sun was going down, and the sky was turning pink. I had to get this show back on track before the night’s end.

When Ruiz finally emerged, he meandered across the motel lot and up the external stairs. His indifference had me concerned I’d been led to the wrong place. But what piqued my interest was the addition of a black briefcase that he definitely did not have on leaving the airport.

Perhaps Nina hadn’t left San Antonio city. Perhaps she was already in the hands of Baja foot soldiers, and Ruiz would be playing catch-up later. He was halfway along the balcony when he unlocked the door to the room and disappeared inside.

I would wait until the sun went down before I made my move.

By morning, Nina would be mine.

The door was ajar, steam from the shower billowed through the gap. Pocketing the knife I used to jimmy the lock to break in, I studied the arrangement of weapons on the coffee table. Neatly displayed in a line was one Beretta, a small revolver, a clip point knife, zip-ties, and a fiber wire for choking. On the floor was the briefcase, opened and empty, albeit some colored photos of Nina.

He had been watching her for some time, including days and times I had also been on her tail.

My jaw tightened, teeth hurting from the pressure.

---