“Maite talked to Emilio earlier. Tell them what he said.”
When she hesitated, Rubén gave Maite a reassuring pat on the arm. “He didn’t say much,” she began. “He hasn’t seen Leonora. She told him she wanted to meet with a journalist who lives in Cuernavaca. Lara. But Emilio couldn’t give her a ride. That’s all he knows.”
“You know any journalists called Lara?” Jackie asked, turning to Luz.
The young woman shook her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Anything else?” Jackie asked.
“Maite caught Emilio poking around Leonora’s apartment.”
Maite turned to look at Rubén, aghast. “I didn’t say that!”
“You said he was looking for a camera.”
“But he wasn’t really poking. He was worried. He was worried that Leonora was getting into a mess,” Maite said. “And you’ve got to admit he’s right, what with that man from the Dirección Federal de Seguridad talking to me and all.”
“Wait, what man?” Jackie said, whipping her head up and looking at Rubén. “There’s a guy from the DFS involved?”
“That’s why we stopped by. We thought you ought to know.”
“Shit,” Jackie said, rubbing a hand against her forehead and shaking her head. “Does this guy have a name?”
“Anaya,” Maite said. “He wanted to know where Leonora was, but I have no idea. I told him so. But somehow he knew I’d talked to Rubén, and he mentioned you too.”
“They must be watching her,” Sócrates said. “It was a mighty fine idea to bring her here, Rubén.”
“Oh, shut up,” Rubén muttered. “It’s no big secret where you can find me. Where you can find all of us.”
“I’m saying maybe you shouldn’t leave a fucking trail of breadcrumbs for them to follow, asshole.”
“We get it,” Jackie said, shushing Sócrates and pressing her hands together, resting the tips of her fingers right beneath her chin as she sat down again on the chair she had been occupying when they walked in. “Emilio was looking for a camera, but he didn’t find it. Are you sure? Did you look through Leonora’s apartment?”
“There was nothing there,” Maite said. “Leonora phoned me and wanted me to take her cat and a box to her, but the box is garbage.”
“You went through it? You’re sure?”
“Yes. You’re welcome to go through it too.”
“Maybe Lara has the pictures,” Rubén said. “Leonora could even be with that journalist, in Cuernavaca. She could be hiding there.”
“If there’s a journalist,” Jackie muttered.
Rubén tensed immediately. He had been leaning against a bookcase, but now he stood up straight, his eyes fixed on Jackie. “What are you saying?”
“She’s saying none of us have seen those pictures,” Sócrates replied, setting his pocillo down atop a pile of books.
“Then where the hell is Leonora? Why is the DFS interested in this? There’re pictures, I know it. You can’t think…she’s not the mole, Jackie!”
But Jackie didn’t seem convinced, and the rest of the people in the room gave Rubén equally dubious glances.
“Fuck, Jackie, not that again,” Rubén said with a sigh. “You don’t even know for sure there’s a mole.”
“I know,” Jackie said.
“How?”
“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Sócrates said, interrupting them. “We have more important stuff to worry about now.”
“What’s more important than finding Leonora?”
“Someone, maybe from the DFS, treated Casimiro like a punching bag.”
“Yes, and they could be beating the living shit out of Leonora right now. And there’re the photos to worry about too.”
“Leonora was never trustworthy,” Luz pointed out.
“That’s not true.”
“Just because you slept with her doesn’t mean she’s really our friend,” Sócrates piped up.
“You should talk,” Rubén said, raising his voice. So did Sócrates. Then it was a jumble of back and forth pronouncements and recriminations that Maite couldn’t even begin to follow.
“Fuck!” Jackie said, lifting her hands in the air dramatically, then letting them fall and resting them against her knees. “Sócrates, why don’t you and the others let me chat with Rubén and his friend for a bit? There’re too many damn people in the room.”
They obeyed. Out went Luz, Sócrates, then finally Casimiro and the man in the suede jacket who had not spoken a single word. He tossed his cigarette in an ashtray, and when he walked by Maite he gave her a wink.
Rubén moved to stand by the window, arms crossed, looking outside. He was frowning.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not my fault she’s missing,” Jackie said.
“She was supposed to meet you. You were supposed to keep her safe,” Rubén replied.
“I did meet her. And then she said she couldn’t give me the photos after all, that she wasn’t sure. She jumped out of my car, Rubén. I didn’t make her do that.”
“You told her she was the mole.”
Jackie raised her chin, her eyes hard. “I told her it was time she proved herself. She didn’t.”
“I need to borrow the gun,” Rubén said coolly. “Maite and I are going to pay that journalist a visit.”
“I don’t want you getting in trouble.”
“We’re all in trouble already. We need to recover those photographs. If agents from the DFS are out there looking for them too, then I better be prepared.”
Jackie frowned, but she grabbed a set of keys from her vest’s pockets and unlocked a desk drawer. She took out a gun and held it in her hands, looking carefully at it.
“What if she destroyed the pictures?”
“You’ve got to have more faith in people, Jackie.”
“I suppose you want faith and my car for the weekend, on top of my gun.”
“I’ll have everything back to you Monday.”
She handed the gun to Rubén, who nonchalantly grabbed a paper bag that was sitting on a corner of one of the desks and stuffed the weapon in it, as though it were his lunch.