Book Review: Served Cold

Synopsis:

A cargo trailer packed with dead, undocumented migrants is found abandoned in a freeway rest stop outside Phoenix, Arizona. Detective Nathan Parker’s investigation reveals that the dead all wore identical clothing, were in the same age range, and definitely weren’t destined for jobs in the agricultural fields.

Rather, Parker uncovers a diabolical connection between the migrants and a high-tech computer firm that handles sensitive government information. That information could jeopardize numerous lives if it fell into the wrong hands . . . like those of Esteban Castaneda, the Los Muertos leader who murdered Parker’s partner five years ago. He has again been spotted in the area and his agenda quickly becomes apparent.

Castaneda’s return reunites him and Parker in a most unexpected manner. Will this be their final showdown?

Parker promised revenge as his partner bled out in his arms.

And everyone knows that revenge is a dish best served cold.

Served Cold is the riveting third installment in author James L’Etoile’s popular Detective Nathan Parker series.

Review:

Author James L’Etoile introduced readers to Detective Sergeant Nathan Parker with the Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office in Arizona in Dead Drop. He and his partner, Josh McMillan, were assigned to patrol a road near the United States – Mexico border with the goal of interrupting the flow of undocumented migrants who were accessing it to bypass Immigration and Customs Enforcement checkpoints. McMillan was brutally murdered by Esteban Castaneda, a vicious leader in the Los Muertos gang. Nathan blames himself, convinced that had he responded faster to McMillan’s urgent radio call, he might have saved his partner. And apprehended Castaneda who, five years later, remains at large.

Once again. L’Etoile immediately immerses readers in a fast-paced thriller replete with shocking plot twists. The book opens with a young State Trooper who has been banished by his superiors to the graveyard shift to hopefully instill an attitude adjustment. He pulls his vehicle off the desolate highway to patrol a rest stop. A few truckers have stopped there for the night. Curiously, though, he discovers an unmarked cargo container on a flatbed trailer with no license plate. It appears to be leaking air conditioner refrigerant. There is no tractor or driver in the vicinity, but one of the truck drivers reports having observed a tractor speeding out of the rest stop several hours earlier. When the Trooper opens the door of the container, he finds it fully packed with the bodies of young men – twenty-eight in all — with their “arms, legs, heads all intertwined like a Hieronymus Bosch portrait of the damned.”

Nathan responds to the scene and immediately commences an investigation into who the men were, how they came to be in the cargo container, how they died, and who is responsible for their demise. Assigned to lead the inquiry, he immediately begins searching for a connection between the victims.

Nathan and his colleagues have extensive experience dealing with groups crossing the border, often with the promised assistance of unscrupulous coyotes who extract compensation through threats and violence. Often, those arrangements end tragically, dreams of a better life in America turned into wondering and grief for surviving family members back home. But the decedents were clearly not on their way to start working in the agriculture industry. Each of the men was wearing a long-sleeved white dress shirt, dark slacks, and sneakers or leather loafers. None of them bear the callouses or scars earned by performing hard physical labor. The medical examiner assesses the victims and preliminarily opines that they all died of asphyxiation. Miraculously, one young man is still alive, but unconscious and in critical condition. He is rushed to the hospital as authorities attempt to ascertain his identity, along with the names of the deceased. A Mexico City newspaper reported that two mothers recently voiced concerns about their sons. The young men left home, allegedly to begin new jobs with a tech company in America. But both of them have vanished.

Irascible, enigmatic Billie Carson, introduced in Dead Drop, saw her fortunes change dramatically by the conclusion Devil Within, the second book in the series. When readers met Billie, she was living in a dilapidated travel trailer, surviving by scouring the desert for lost and abandoned items she sold to recycling yards. Billie is a former coyote with knowledge about the routes across the border, as well as the people who control them and prey on those desperate to make their way to the United States to forge better lives for themselves and their families. She lived off the radar after testifying against a cartel operating a human trafficking ring. Even though she is now a wealthy woman, her lifestyle has not changed much. She uses her money to keep the Immigrant Coalition running, with the assistance of Miguel, Nathan’s foster son. She has become a beloved member of their family.

Because the federal court monitors the interactions between the Sheriff’s Office and the Hispanic community, a liaison is assigned to the investigation. Nathan initially insists that is not necessary, but ceases protesting when he learns that Deputy Linda Hunt, with whom he is, unbeknownst to his superiors, in a healthy romantic relationship, will be serving in that capacity.

As the investigation proceeds, it quickly becomes apparent that Esteban Castaneda, the man who murdered Nathan’s partner, is back. Someone is tagging a series of crime scenes and Nathan deduces that the messages are personal – they are telling him that he is a marked man. And he is not the only one in danger. Clearly, Castaneda and Los Muertos were somehow involved in the deaths of the young men found in the cargo container, all of whom were exposed to radiation and had high levels of carbon monoxide in their systems. (Thus, Nathan and other personnel who entered the container were also exposed. But that cannot slow down their investigation.) Billie assists Nathan by visiting West Valley Machine Shop which figured in Devil Within, too. She watches the employees packing boxes, but not with auto parts. And all the cartons bore the international symbol for radiation and the words “Caution, Medical Waste” in Ukrainian. The mystery surrounding the decedents deepens. Is Los Muertos shipping radioactive material? If so, what kind and where is it headed? Or is it a ruse, designed to distract observers and keep them from learning what nefarious activity they are actually engaged in?

Once again, L’Etoile has crafted a fast-paced, inventive mystery replete with unpredictable developments. The riveting story succeeds because it is deftly plotted and intricately designed, and delivers shocking twists that compel readers to keep reading. L’Etoile throws numerous obstacles in Nathan’s path, including dirty cops, bureaucrats, and immunity deals over which Nathan has no control, but he is undeterred. He also must untangle a web of machinations, double-crosses, and power plays by cartel leaders.

Each lead character is fully developed and empathetic. Nathan has carried the guilt he feels about his partner’s death for five full years. It derailed his life and career for a time. L’Etoile notes that when he launched the series, Nathan “obsessed over getting justice and revenge on Castaneda.” He permitted it to “cloud his judgement and it nearly cost him his life.” Now Castaneda is back, and Nathan is just as determined that he will not evade justice, but with the perspective that time and experience have brought him, Nathan knows that revenge “won’t come without a cost.” Is Nathan willing to pay it? “It’s about making sure Castaneda doesn’t make another McMillan. He’s brought terror and violence down on everyone and it’s time for it to end,” Nathan declares. “Revenge is best served cold.” L’Etoile provides a satisfying resolution to Nathan’s saga after his circuitous route to finally squaring off against his nemesis.

Once again, Billie is enmeshed in the action and at the heart of the tale. She has become a beloved character to fans of the series. L’Etoile relates, “A woman stopped me once and pointed her finger at me, telling me, ‘You better not hurt Billie.’” In Served Cold, Billie comes under suspicion. Billie is part of the family Nathan has forged with Miguel and, now, Linda and her foster son, Leon. Was Nathan wrong to trust her? L’Etoile discloses more details about Billie’s past, some of which are jaw-dropping. Can her relationship with Nathan survive once the truth is revealed?

Even though L’Etoile shepherds several of the storylines in the three books to logical conclusions, many issues remain unresolved. Presumably, they will be addressed in the three additional installments in the series that he has planned. “Everyone’s entitled to a secret or two.” And whether he complies with that fan’s demand that he keep Billie safe from harm remains to be seen.

Excerpt from Served Cold

Chapter One

State Trooper Chris Yarrow took his patrol assignment on the graveyard shift on Interstate 10 as a kick to the crotch. The desolate stretch of asphalt from Quartzite to Tonopah was as straight as a preacher’s spine and as exciting as a Sunday sermon.

Six months. He was given six months on this worthless chunk of highway as punishment. His sergeant warned if he didn’t adjust his attitude and become a team player, Yarrow would be on the outside looking in. Halfway through a shift cruising down the empty westbound lanes of I-10 Yarrow hadn’t pulled over a single speeding motorist. Not because he didn’t want to. There was no one out on this God-forsaken patch of asphalt. Not so much as a headlight in the distance.

He backed off the accelerator at the exit for the Devil’s Well rest stop. Yarrow cruised through the freeway rest stop to ensure the truckers who pulled off for the night didn’t have paid female company from Buckeye. Last week Yarrow turned a van full of young women away as they drove up, much to the disappointment of the lonely truck drivers.

Four eighteen-wheelers parked in diagonal slots. Yarrow’s eye went to a cargo container strapped on a flatbed trailer. The tractor and driver were nowhere to be found.

Yarrow stopped behind the trailer and shown his spotlight on the boxy cargo container. No company markings or brand names adorned the side. The trooper pulled his computer console over preparing to run the trailer’s plates. His light found the empty place where the registration should have been.

Yarrow stepped from his SUV and approached the trailer mounted cargo box, casting his flashlight under and around the steel frame.

“If it ain’t officer buzzkill,” a voice sounded from a truck window to the left.

Yarrow swung his light to the truck cab and recognized the driver as one of the frustrated truckers after the ladies of the night were turned away. His faded and frayed Dodger’s ball cap, more grey than blue, was tucked on his head over a ring of red curls.

“You happen to see who left this trailer?”

“It was here when I pulled in,” he checked his watch, “about four hours ago.”

Yarrow strode to the front of the container, shone his flashlight at the end of the brown steel container. “Something leaking.”

The trucker stepped from his cab hitched his pants up and joined Yarrow.

“Looks like the A/C unit bit the big one.”

Yarrow avoided stepping in the puddle of refrigerant. “I’m gonna have to call the DOT crew out and get this cleaned up before it runs off in the desert.”

“God forbid a coyote gets an upset tummy. Tree huggers like them woke DOT weenies is what makes everything we do more expensive.”

“Why would a driver take the plates and leave his load,” Yarrow asked.

The driver shrugged. “If he saw his A/C was busted, he knew his load got spoiled in this heat. If he’s not a company driver, he could drop and run. Especially if he already got paid for the trip.”

Yarrow circled around the trailer to the rear. The heavy steel hasp was secured with a heavy gauge padlock and a foil seal on the door.

“A customs inspection sticker,” the driver said, pointing at the foil.

“This came over the border? All this way and the driver just drops it?”

The trucker leaned in, an ear close to the container. “Hear that?”

“What?”

“Listen.”

Yarrow leaned closer to the container. “I don’t hear anything.”

Another voice from behind startled Yarrow. “What ya got going on, Buck?”

Buck, the driver in his Dodger’s hat, glanced at the other trucker, “Might be an abandoned load.”

“Saw a guy in a white Kenworth tractor with no trailer burning outta here about five o’clock. Coulda been running into Phoenix to get a mechanic for his A/C.”

“Phoenix? We’re in the westbound lanes.”

“Like I said, the guy was in a hurry, he crossed the center median and headed back east, toward Phoenix.”

“I think he’s hauling bees,” Buck said, straightening his ball cap. “I don’t like bees. I keep me an epi-pen in my glove box.”

The other driver drew close and put an ear against the metal cargo box. “I hear them. I heard about bee rustlers stealing hives. Think deputy Do-Right here broke the case?”

“Would you guys back away. Quit touching the lock, Buck.”

Buck turned the lock loose and put his hands up in surrender.

“It might be evidence.”

“How you gonna know unless you look inside,” Buck said.

Yarrow pondered his options. If he called it in to his supervisor and it turned out to be dead grandma’s patio furniture from Sun City, Yarrow was done. The thin foil customs seal hinted at something more. Smuggled drugs maybe. If Yarrow could break a major drug trafficking case he’d earn his way out of this nighttime purgatory of an assignment.

Sensing Yarrow’s leaning, Buck said, “I got a pair of cutters in my truck.”

Buck trotted over to his rig and opened a tool box and withdrew a pair of heavy bolt cutters with two-foot-long handles.

Yarrow held them, surprised at the weight and forced the lock off the cargo door. He handed the bolt cutters back to Buck. When Yarrow slid the bolt a metallic clang echoed from within.

“You don’t mind, I’ma gonna take a step back. I don’t need no bee stings.”

The buzzing sound increased and Yarrow began to second guess his decision to open the container. He pulled the heavy door aside and a swarm of insects flew from the crack.

Buck screamed and waved his arms against the winged attackers. “I need my epi-pen!”

Yarrow ducked behind the door as the insects flew from their prison. When they lessened, he leaned around and clicked his flashlight inside. He dropped the light on the blacktop and staggered back. The smell was overpowering.

No stolen beehives and no cache of smuggled heroin or fentanyl were waiting for Yarrow. Inside the darkened cargo container, dozens of dead men lay in a heap on the steel floor.