condo. It’s pretty obvious that location is blown. Please arrange for it. By tonight, if possible – send the crew in and have them pack everything. There’s some cash in my nightstand and some personal papers in the desk. I’ll want a signed inventory from whoever’s in charge. If a new place can’t be arranged by tonight, I’ll need a hotel room and security,” Cruz rattled off with precise, practiced efficiency.
“I’ll get right on it,” Briones assured him.
“I also want regular reports on the condition of the shooter, and whether he’ll make it. It’s possible we can get more out of him.”
Briones nodded, nothing to add.
“Get a full listing of all suspected Los Zetas we know about in D.F., as well as any rumored associates. I want to know who directed this. We need to respond.”
“I’ll put a team on it at headquarters.”
“Launch a full investigation into the affairs of every person who knew the condo’s location. That’s a very small group of people. Maybe we’ll get lucky and there will be some trace of unusual financial activity – big cash deposits or some lavish purchases. I doubt it, but you never know.”
“Yes, sir. It had to be someone in the inner circle. Your living arrangements are as close to a state secret as we have.”
“Somebody sold me out. I hate to believe it, but that’s the only thing that makes sense. That means nobody can know about the new place, except for you, me, the person in charge of leasing it, and God. And I’m pretty sure I don’t want Him to have the exact address if it isn’t absolutely necessary.”
“Consider it done, sir.”
Cruz hesitated, and seemed to fight an internal battle before continuing. He issued instructions for another five minutes, as Briones scribbled frantic notes. When Cruz had covered everything he could think of, he again cautioned the younger man about confidentiality before he dismissed him. Briones assured him that he understood, then exited the office and went to his workstation to begin making calls.
Cruz held his right hand out and studied it. A slight tremor, almost imperceptible, the by-product of the massive adrenaline rush from the morning’s excitement. He’d had worse.
He rose and strode to the coffee machine to prepare a new pot, taking his time with the task, a sort of therapy, a ritual that calmed his nerves. Once done, he returned to his seat and placed his cell phone on the desk in front of him, and then, nodding to himself, pressed a speed dial key and lifted it to his ear. The line rang, then forwarded to voicemail. Dinah still wasn’t answering. He glanced at his watch and realized that she would be in class now, and probably had the phone off. Cruz pressed another key and waited.
When the secretary answered, Cruz was polite but firm.
“Yes, good morning. I need to speak to Dinah Lobredor. She teaches second grade. This is Captain Romero Cruz of the Federales. It’s an emergency.”
The woman seemed flustered, but quickly recovered. “Of course. Let me take a look at the class schedules. I’m going to have to put you on hold for a few minutes. Stay on the line, please.”
Saccharine pop music, a female singer who sounded like a cat in heat, played in his ear, and Cruz found himself growing impatient as one minute stretched into five. He was about to call back and read the woman the riot act when the music stopped and a male voice came on the line.
“Capitan Cruz? This is the principal, Eduardo Navarez. You’re trying to reach Señora Lobredor?”
“That’s correct. It’s a matter of considerable urgency.”
“I’m afraid she isn’t in today.”
“What? What do you mean, she’s not in? Did something happen?” Cruz asked, now agitated, his heart rate climbing as butterflies danced a tarantella in his stomach.
“Not that I know of. Says here that she requested and received two sick days. There’s a temp instructing her class. Perhaps you should try her at home? I presume you have the number...”
“When did she do this?” Cruz snapped, then reined in the worry in his voice. No point in alarming the man.
“Yesterday, early. We haven’t heard from her, but expect her to be back tomorrow.”
“I see. Thank you for your efforts. We have her home number.”
“Let me know if there’s anything else you require, Capitan Cruz.”
“Of course.”
Cruz couldn’t disconnect fast enough. Damn Dinah for her stubborn streak. He should have anticipated that she wouldn’t go in, but still, it had caught him off guard.