Thomas Blackhorse's Arc

Chapter 8 of 17

Thomas locked the folder in his desk and drove straight to Earl's trailer. Casablanca had already taken Miguel Roundrock, the volunteer who saw her in the school hall. Now she knew Thomas had the name. Anyone close to him was next. Earl was the closest. Earl opened the door in a flannel robe, a shotgun leaned against the wall behind him. Seventy-five years in this town had left him dried out and sharp-eyed, and he read Thomas's face in one look. "She made you," Earl said. "She made all of us. Pack a bag. Go to your sister's in Gallup. Tonight." Earl didn't argue. He picked up the shotgun and a duffel already half packed. "You going after her?" "I'm going to the casino. She works the floor from there. I want her in a public room with cameras." "Alone?" "I called Ray. He's driving down." Earl grunted and pushed past him to his truck. Thomas drove to the Casablanca Casino. The building rose out of the flat dark like a lit birthday cake, all colored bulbs and painted columns. He walked in through the main doors and asked a floor manager for Juanita Casablanca by name. The manager's face went flat. He said she wasn't in. Thomas said he'd wait at the bar. He didn't sit. He walked the floor once, then found the service door behind the cashier cage and went down. The basement smelled like solder and old coffee. Rows of slot machine guts sat open on a workbench. A young woman in a gray hoodie looked up from a laptop. Brown hair in a ponytail. Tired eyes. She looked like the Delgado girl's school photo aged forward eight years. Thomas felt his chest tighten. "You're not supposed to be here," she said. She wouldn't give her name. "Where is Juanita." "Gone. An hour ago. She took a bag and a man from a back room." "What man." "Short. Braids. Bruised." Miguel. Alive. Thomas started to ask another question. The young woman shook her head once, hard, and slid a folded paper across the bench. Then she turned back to her screen. He unfolded it in the stairwell. Same left-leaning capitals. Same hooked r. You named me. Now watch who pays. He ran up the stairs and out to the Jeep. His phone was already ringing. Ray, breathing hard. "Thomas. Your office. Somebody kicked the door in twenty minutes ago. Whole file cabinet is gone." Thomas gripped the wheel. Earl was clear. Miguel was alive somewhere with her. But the Delgado file, the handwriting proof, the ledger, the notes, all of it, was in her hands now. He had made her run. He had also handed her the only evidence that named her. He put the Jeep in gear and drove toward the office.