No Way Back: Part 2 of 3. Andrew Gross

me. I’ve already said my good-byes. I should have gotten on that train!”

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      Harold asked where Lauritzia’s father was now. She merely shrugged and said she didn’t know.

      Only that he was in this country somewhere. But that even the U.S. government no longer knew for sure. “He grew afraid. Cano was trained in this country, by your own agents. Why did the trial against him just fall apart? Influence is something that can be bought on both sides of the border, is it not? My father thought it best for me not to know his whereabouts. In order to protect me. I haven’t spoken to him since my sister was killed. More than two years now. We both protect our whereabouts.”

      He shot Roxanne a look that suggested maybe they could try to locate him.

      “No. No!” Lauritzia shook her head, reading his intention. “Do you really think I’d be safer with him? I would only draw him to them. Which is what they want.”

      Roxanne asked her where she was heading to when she stopped her at the station.

      “I have a cousin. In New Mexico. On my mother’s side.” Lauritzia shrugged. “I was going to see if she would let me stay there for a while.”

      “And if she wouldn’t?”

      “If she wouldn’t, then I do not know what I would do. I am in violation of a court order to return home. I have no job, and without a job I can no longer remain. I would go home.”

      “Home?” Roxanne looked at her in shock. “Home is a death sentence for you, Lauritzia.”

      “My life is a death sentence, Mrs. Bachman, don’t you see? Tell me what other choice I have! Live on the streets here and beg? Sell myself?”

      Roxanne reached out and clasped her hand. “That’s why you never allowed us to sponsor you for your green card, isn’t it? Because you were afraid?”

      “Yes. I was in violation of a court order to leave the country. They would have found out who I am and sent me back. And even if they didn’t, look what happened to Cano. He is Zetas. He is very connected with the United States. He would have found out where I was. I am sorry that I never told you these things.” She took Roxanne’s hand in hers. “I never wanted to place my worries on you. I never wanted to put your family at risk. You must believe that. But now that you know, the children will be coming home soon. I should leave …” She started to get up.

      “No,” Roxanne said.

      “No, Missus, it is not right.” Lauritzia stood up, but her eyes welled with tears. “It will be very hard for me to see them again and have to—”

      “No.” Roxanne held her back by the arm. “This isn’t just a place of work for you. This is your home. No one forces you to leave.”

      Lauritzia smiled, a smile that was both pleased yet skeptical, and went to pick up her coat and scarf. “I’m sorry, but I do not have a home anymore.”

      “Yes, you do.” Roxanne took Lauritzia in her arms, the girl attempting to pull herself away, to grab her coat, to break free, until she just surrendered, not knowing whether to resist or go, the torrent building in her eyes, until she just gave up and put her head on Roxanne’s shoulder and began to cry.

      Roxanne looked at her husband over Lauritzia’s shoulder as she stroked her hair. “You poor child. God only knows what you’ve been through. Well, you damn well have one now.”

      “I know what you’re going to say,” Roxanne argued to Harold outside, his lawyerly, gray-templed look of reason and restraint. “I know what’s happened. But we can’t just let her leave. That girl’s been through hell. If we let her walk out that door, we’ll be sending her to her grave. She’ll be dead in a week!”

      “Rox, you heard her story …” Harold leaned against the wall. “We’ve got the kids. These people could try again anytime.”

      “And speaking of the kids, look what she did for ours at the mall. She put them before herself. You saw how close that shot came. That could have been Jamie or Taylor. We can’t just abandon her, Harold. What kind of a thing would that be?”

      “There’s a lot involved here, Rox. It’s not just a question of good intentions. She’s in violation of a court order to return home. She’s been illegally hiding here. For all we know her father may be at odds with the U.S. government. Not to mention the little matter that if these people actually now know where she is—”

      “I realize they know where she is, Harold! But we can’t just walk away from her. This girl saved our children.”

      “I was talking about our children, Roxanne.” Harold looked at her sternly.

      “I know. I know … But if she goes back and something happens to her, I couldn’t live with that. We don’t do those kinds of things, Harold. If what she says is true, the U.S. government has treated her every bit as cruelly as this Cano. They’ve got blood on their hands as well. She saved Jamie and Taylor. We can’t turn around and say, ‘Thank you very much, but you have to be on your way. It’s just too much of a risk. Here’s a little money.’ Not after what she’s been through. You’re a lawyer. The case can be reopened. We can represent her in some way. Or we can set her up somewhere. We can afford it. What the hell is it all for, anyway? We don’t just call her part of the family, and take her on vacations and trust our children in her care, and then when something comes out that interferes with our neat, orderly lives, give her fifty bucks and a train ticket and tell her we don’t have the heart!”

      “Mexican drug enforcers aren’t exactly a minor interference in our neat, orderly lives, Rox. Not to mention taking on the U.S. government. Anyway, she’s not even asking for our help. She’s seen these people. She understands. She knows firsthand.”

      “I realize she knows, Harold. But that doesn’t mean that we just back down. We owe her something. When those bullets were flying, her first thoughts weren’t for herself. They were for our kids. That’s my cuota, Harold. And I damn well intend to pay it back. You’re as smart a lawyer as I know, and you’ve got an office full of even smarter ones back there. So think of something.”

      He had that look, that look when he knew he was worn down. Or at least strategically outflanked. He picked up his suit jacket. “I’ll ask around. In the meantime, I don’t want her leaving the house. And God knows, not with the kids. I’m going to hire a private security outfit, just to keep an eye over the house. The first sign of anything, Roxanne, and she’s got to go. Is that clear? This isn’t some stray dog you’ve picked up on the street. You heard her story. You know what these people are capable of—”

      “Jesus, Harold, we live in a goddamned gated commu-nity in Greenwich. They can’t just barge in here …” She leaned against him and hugged him. “But I’m not abandoning her. As long as that’s clear too.”

      He squeezed her on the shoulder and, when she looked up, took a long, admiring look into his wife’s glistening eyes. “You know somewhere in all of this is precisely the reason why I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

      “You don’t need to look very far, Harold. It’s what’s right. And you know that, don’t you?”

      “Yes.” He nodded begrudgingly, putting on his jacket.

      “Just find something. Something that gives this girl a chance. But, yes …” She centered his jacket on his shoulders and straightened his tie. “I know that, Harold. About why you love me.” Roxanne smiled at him. “I do.”

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      When Harold came