Remember My Face by John Lantigua

Author:John Lantigua
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arte Público Press
Published: 2020-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

As Willie entered Cane City, he noticed that Clark Moyer, his crime researcher friend, had called him back from Tallahassee. He hit the return icon and soon heard the always chipper Clark on the other end.

“How’s swinging South Beach, Willie?”

“The last I heard it was still swinging, Clark. But I’m not there right now. I’m in Cane County.”

“You’ve opted for the quiet life of the cane fields?”

“Well, not exactly. I haven’t moved to these parts. I’m here on a case. So far it isn’t quiet at all.”

“Do tell.”

Willie decided to spare Clark a description of the past couple of hours. “Oh, it’s just a missing person, but he’s proving hard to find.”

“Well, the phone number you left me is a Cane County number, as you probably already know.”

Willie pulled over to the side of the road and took out his notebook. “Who’s it registered to and where is it right now?”

“That number is registered to a Ricardo Ramírez. The address is 211 Davis Street. Cane City. Now let’s plot where he is at this precise moment.”

Willie jotted down the information, while Clark pecked at his keyboard on the other end. People like Clark had access to cellphone service tracking systems—GPS coordinates—that could locate a phone. It took him a full minute to reach a conclusion.

“He’s nowhere at the moment.”

“Come again.”

“The phone isn’t issuing a signal. He has shut down the GPS function and blocked other sensors in the phone. Possibly he has it in a protective case that blocks emission of signals. Then again, maybe it fell in a lake. I’m seeing nothing.”

“Got it.” Willie knew people could eliminate the emissions used to track a cellphone when they didn’t want police, or anyone else, knowing where they were.

“Looks like this particular person wants to stay missing,” Clark said. “Good luck, lad.”

Willie thanked him and disconnected. He used his phone to plot the Davis Street address, which was just a few blocks away. He was heading that way when he noticed an old school bus dropping workers off from the fields. The workers were arriving back in town earlier than usual. Willie parked, eyed the people getting off the bus and soon spotted Pedro. The kid headed off down the street towards his cabin.

Willie waited until no one else was in sight, pulled up close and motioned him into the car. They drove towards the same secluded spot where they had talked before, but a road crew was working there. Willie kept going until he found a place to pull over under an oak tree next to a long field planted with lettuce. In the distance, a small crop duster plane swooped down parallel to the earth, emitted a cloud of whatever it emitted, ascended, turned and swopped down again. The kid watched it warily.

“Short day for you,” Willie said.

“We finished the section we were working and the foreman sent us home early. Somebody said it was because he has a girlfriend he wants to see. It made all the workers angry because they won’t make as much.

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