“Throw it on the sand over there. About twenty feet.”
He tossed it and it plunked onto the wet-packed sand in front of them, about twenty-five feet away.
“Ready?” she asked.
“For what?”
“Try to stop me.” As she finished speaking, she went for the gun on Nick’s hip. She pulled it out of the holster, turned, sighted and fired. At the same time, she threw her left arm up, blocking Nick’s hand as he reached for the gun.
With a sour whine, the coin flew up into the air, flickering before falling into the froth of an oncoming wave. Bull’s-eye.
She returned the gun to the holster and looked at Nick. Even in the dark, she could feel his astonishment. “We’re all doing things we never thought we would be called upon to do,” she told him. “Why should you be the exception?”
Chapter Five
His fingertips slipped down her cheek, their touch soft as petals. “I have never seen such beauty before. Dígame lo que debo hacer para guardarle de mí.”
Even as Minnie delighted in hearing Duardo’s voice, in feeling his touch, she knew she was dreaming. She recognized, too, that she was on that fleetingly rare borderline between wake and sleep, where dreams took on more substance and became rich emotional memories that would survive the waking.
Sadness tore through her. She would not be able to linger in this moment.
Then, abruptly, she was awake. She kept her eyes closed, her cheek still tingling where the dream-memory Duardo had touched it. Slowly, the real world began to intrude upon her senses. There was soft movement nearby as someone came to bed or rose from it.
The room was a makeshift dormitory—perhaps fifteen women used it. They came and went at different hours, according to the roles they had taken in the household. Minnie couldn’t tell if it was late or early in the morning. There were no windows in this room and the lamps that served it were always turned low.
She hugged herself under the covers, still not fully awake. Even the lumps in the thin mattress did not register. If she could slip back into sleep, would she revisit that long-gone moment? That touch on her cheek...that had been the first time she had met Duardo. The night of the Luna Festival, the night Calli had first arrived in Vistaria and managed to get herself arrested.
Minnie tried to sink into the memory, to coax both the memory and sleep to take her.
Calli had been arrested and Minnie’s father had made frantic phone calls, trying to find a way to get her out. Minnie had gone with him to the police station because she was dying to find out what the festival was all about and the station was located in the central square in the downtown area—the heart of the festival.
There had been chat amongst the mining staff that Fiesta de la Luna was, in practice, more like a Saturnalia than a cultural acknowledgement, a week when Vistarians shucked off their most proper dignity and left their honor at home. The gossip had piqued Minnie’s curiosity.
Her father had been forced to leave the car a quarter mile away from the main square. Traffic was too congested and the square itself was blocked to anything but pedestrians. They’d wended their way past Vistarians in the colorful national dress and Minnie had felt her eyes grow wider and wider.
Inhibitions had been lost. Minnie watched, amazed, as men and women who appeared to be strangers would greet each other and come together to kiss and caress. Her father didn’t seem to notice.
When they reached the station itself, Minnie glanced in at the unshaven soldier behind the reception desk, his rifle propped up on the desk, while he leaned frankly against the wall. The soldier’s gaze narrowed as he saw her through the glass doors and a lewd smile appeared.
She knew that smile. She’d seen it many times before on other men. So she stepped back down to the ground. “I think I’m going to stay out here,” she told her father.
Josh glanced at the soldier behind the counter, which told her he’d noticed and interpreted the man’s smile, too. “All right,” he said with a distracted air. Then he glanced around the square. “Don’t wander away, huh? It doesn’t look much better out here.”
“Tell me about it,” she murmured. “I’ll be right here.”
Josh went into the station and Minnie looked around, wondering where she could wait that wouldn’t involve her in the fiesta. She had no objection to watching but had no intention of letting a strange man kiss her.
She moved a few feet away from the steps and leaned back against the wall of the station itself. It left her in shadows and in a good position to watch the dancing and listen to the music. It was endlessly fascinating.
The police station was located on the corner of one of the tiny side streets that fed into the square. From that narrow cobblestone road, a group of three Vistarian army men moved into the square and over to the doors to the station. They patently had nothing to do with the festival. They wore the green pants with the double red stripe down the leg and the short, light jacket with red stripes around the bottom of the sleeves to denote rank.
One of them was slightly taller than the other two. He had glossy black hair pulled back into a short ponytail at the back of his neck. In this matter, the Vistarian army appeared to hold different standards from the rest of the world. He was laughing as the three climbed the steps. The lights inside the station fell on his face.
Minnie caught her breath. Oh wow! He had white, even teeth and midnight black eyes to go with his olive skin. High cheekbones, a strong jaw. Wide, square shoulders, tight hips and waist....
They slipped inside and the swing door shut on them.
Minnie sighed to herself. Vistarian men all seemed to lean toward the taller, overtly masculine man. Combined with Mediterranean looks, it meant there were an above average number of men in Vistaria who were too damn sexy for Minnie’s pulse. She smiled—Vistaria was a great country in which to stand around watching the world go by.
After a few minutes, the door to the station opened again and she looked up, expecting her father and Calli, but the three soldiers re-emerged with their heads close together. They stepped slowly down the steps, talking hard and came to a stop on the cobbles.
Minnie straightened and focused on the taller one. His smile had gone, replaced by a thoughtful look. He listened to the others and shook his head, glancing around the square.
His gaze found her in the shadows and Minnie caught her breath as he spoke to his friends then stepped around them and walked toward her. “¿Usted necesitan ayuda? Usted está todo solo en la noche del fiesta. ¿Es usted todo derecho?” His voice was pleasant.
Minnie caught only the odd word here and there, enough to know that he was asking if she was all right. Clearly, her position close by the station in the shadows had alerted him. She stepped out from the shadow and held up her hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t speak very much Spanish. Just some. Ummm...¿Apenas un poco español?” She held her forefinger and thumb a bare inch apart to indicate just how little Spanish she had.
He smiled and held up his finger and thumb, about three inches apart. “And I speak English this much, yes?”
“It’s better than my Spanish,” she confessed.
Again, the quick, flashing smile. “You are...okay? You are alone here, on Fiesta night.”
“I’m waiting for someone. They’re inside.” She pointed toward the front door of the station.
“He left you alone out here?” He sounded indignant.
“What makes you think it’s a man I’m waiting for?”
“It is not?”
She sidestepped that one. “Well, thanks anyway. But I’m fine.” She carefully retreated into the shadows until her back was once more against the wall of the building.
He stayed where he was, watching her. “Americano, yes?” He spoke louder instead of coming closer.
“Right.”
“You wait outside because of the man inside, at the...table?” He moved his hands, clearly lost for the right word and apologizing for it. “I mean, he makes you afraid.
Yes?”
She stared at him. “How did you know that?”
He smiled and his black eyes glowed with good humor. “I speak bad, bad English, but I am not bad here—” He touched his temple.
“Yes, but how did you know that?”
He spread his hands. “May I...come...?” He pointed toward her and back to himself.
“Yes, come closer.”
He came closer. Much closer. He stepped to her side so that she was forced to turn ninety degrees to face him. That pleased him for he nodded in satisfaction. “Now I see your face again. Beautiful.” And he smiled. “You should not be afraid of me.”
“I’m not.”
“The man inside, yes. I know you fear him because he looks....” He frowned. “Bad.”
“Scary?” she suggested.
He shook his head. “Only bad for ladies like you.”
She found herself lost for words again. He really had sensed her reservations about going inside, then. That took a degree of perception that few men seemed to have.
Behind him, his two companions called out softly in rapid Spanish. He turned and answered and waved. They headed back down the alleyway, leaving him with Minnie. He turned back to her. “I will wait until your friend returns.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to go tonight? It’s Fiesta.”
“I go here. But the man I come to see is no more.”
“Not here anymore?” she guessed. “Another soldier policeman person?”
He puzzled that one out then shook his head. “No, not like the man behind the table.”
“Desk.”
“Sí. The men in here,” and he touched the building with the flat of his hand, “they want to be at the Fiesta but cannot be because they have...disobeyed.”
“Ooooooh.” Suddenly, it gelled for her. “You mean these guys have been busted for doing something bad and this is their punishment? They have to work during Fiesta?”
“Sí.” His hand still rested against the wall, close by her head.
“So who did you come to see?”
“The one they call el leopardo rojo.”
“The...something leopard?”
“Rojo. Red.”
“The Red Leopard. That’s a strange name for a man.”
“Not his real name. Our name for him. But he has already gone.”
“I see.”
A small silence drifted between them and she was aware that he was staring at her. He leaned closer. “Forgive me...but you are so beautiful.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
He lifted his hand toward her face, moving very slowly so that he would not startle her. “May I?”
In her entire life she had never had a man ask her permission to touch her. She was flummoxed. “Er...sure, yeah,” she said and felt suddenly stupid. Why could she not have said something just as elegant and profound to him? He was making her feel gauche and very, very young. It was a novel feeling. It had been a long while since a man had made her feel anything other than completely sure of herself and her power over him.
He had long fingers. He rested his fingertip against her cheek and drew it slowly down her face—a barely there touch that nevertheless left a trail of tingling skin behind.
“So soft,” he murmured. “I have never seen such beauty before. Dígame lo que debo hacer para guardarle de mí.”
“Minnie?” It was her father’s voice, but he hadn’t sighted her yet.
“My father,” she explained to the soldier.
“Introduce me,” he said at once.
“Really?”
“I would know more about you.”
“Yeah. But I’m going to need your name.”
Surprise skittered across his face. “Ah, yes. Name. Yes. Captain Eduardo Peña y Santos.” He leaned closer. “Please say yes we can meet again.”
An incredible thrill ran through her. He wanted to see her again! “Yes, we can meet again.” Her heart was hammering.
“Minnie, for heaven’s sake. There you are.” It was her cousin Calli who arrived first.
Minnie gave the man before her a reassuring smile before looking at Calli. “Just having a chat.” It was a lie. Chatting was the least of what was happening here. Her insides were swirling and she suddenly resented that the moment was about to end. He was standing up, his hand dropping away from her.
“Dad said it might take a while,” she told Calli. “So I stayed outside to listen to the music. Calli, this is Eduardo...right?”
He turned to face Calli. “Friends call me Duardo. I insist. Eduardo, I like not,” he said, his voice low. He held out his hand to Calli.
Duardo.
As Duardo took Calli’s hand and kissed the back of it, flustering her cousin, Minnie shivered.
* * * * *
As she lay on her lumpy mattress, Minnie shivered again, remembering that moment. Although she had not recognized at the time how true her instincts had been, that shiver had marked a barely conscious realization that somehow, this captain with the all-knowing eyes and the easy smile was going to turn her life inside out.
She touched her cheek where it had tingled in the wake of Duardo’s caress and felt dampness. She had been crying in her sleep.
That was enough to jerk her into a sitting position, wide awake. She had been doing way too much of that lately. Crying wasn’t going to bring Duardo back. She had to work her ass off to make sure that happened.
She dug under the mattress, pulled out her pouch of essentials and strapped on her watch. 8:12 a.m. The early morning breakfast rush would be over. She may even be lucky enough to find a bench with room to sit and eat at the table, rather than hauling her food to the balcony to eat from her lap.
She dressed and hurried to the kitchen and realized that she was in a good mood. The prospect of moving closer toward finding Duardo helped. But mostly, it was the long talk with Calli last night. Her cousin had been the first one to seriously consider the idea that Duardo might be alive. Calli could always convince Nick....
The kitchen was busy but not impossibly so. Minnie found Mama Roseta bending over a big pot of something boiling on the huge range. With a radiant smile, Mama Roseta pulled out a ceramic bowl and half-filled it with whatever was inside the pot. She filled Minnie’s left hand with chunks of freshly baked tortilla and patted her cheek.
Minnie carried the bowl over to one of the tables. There was room. She climbed over the bench and tucked into her breakfast. It was some sort of stew—a touch of spice and lumps of vegetable and meat that was so soft it fell apart without a knife.
A hand rested on her shoulder briefly and Calli sat on the bench beside her, holding a coffee cup. She didn’t climb over but sat with her back to the table. “You’re up late,” she told Minnie.
“Sweet dreams. I wanted to stay and keep dreaming,” Minnie confessed around a mouthful of tortilla and meat.
Calli smiled. “Duardo?”
“Who else?”
The big fly-wire door that led out to the service driveway slammed shut right then, alerting the entire kitchen of a new arrival.
Carmen stood framed by the early morning sunshine pouring through the doorway.
From her clothes, it looked as if she had been out all night. She wore black patent leather ankle boots with high slender heels and a miniskirt in pleated red tartan. It was so short there was no way Carmen could bend over or even crouch and not give a full display to anyone in the vicinity. The top of the skirt skimmed over her prominent hip bones. She wore a sleeveless black denim jacket that stopped an inch or two above her waist. It hung unfastened, showing off her flat, taut abs and the glittering belly ring. Between the gaping jacket, the lace of her red and black bra was on display. Her hair, with the colorful highlights, had been backcombed and tumbled down to the back of her hips. It made Minnie think of Jane Fonda in one of her Sixties bombshell outfits.
Carmen took off her sunglasses and looked around the kitchen. “Mama Roseta!” she cried in a throaty, used voic
e. “Por favor dígame que usted haga café hacer. Buen café. Por favor, por favor. ¡Debo tirarme junto!”
As she spoke, she strode across the kitchen, her hips swinging, heading for Mama Roseta at the range.
As she passed Calli and Minnie, Calli coughed and spluttered over her mouthful of coffee. Minnie turned to see what had startled her and got to see Carmen walking away from her.
Carmen’s skirt was so short, the bottom of her buttocks were on display. The woman was either wearing a thong or no panties at all, for her coffee-cream cheeks were as bare as the rest of her long, slender legs.
Minnie couldn’t help it. The words spilled out of her mouth, “What’s wrong, Carmen? Tips light last night?”
Carmen turned to face her, her expression rigid, her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Minnie, don’t!” Calli whispered.
“Clearly, you can’t afford the bottom half of your skirt.” Minnie pushed her bowl away from her, her appetite gone. “So that makes you...what? A shitty accountant, or a really bad whore?”
“De qué coño estás hablando?” Carmen asked, taking a step toward her.
Minnie slipped her legs over the bench so she was facing the same way as Calli. “Are you sure you don’t understand, honey? Because that right there, I gotta say, is proof that it’s not your counting skills or the way you fuck that is the problem. It’s clearly the complete absence of a brain.”
“Su puta madre! Te voy a dar una Hostia!” Carmen screamed, stamping her foot.
Mama Roseta sucked in her breath and began stirring her pot busily.
Minnie stood up and swept invisible crumbs off her T-shirt. “Whatever,” she said over her shoulder, heading for the door. She felt a warm glow of satisfaction because she’d left the perfect Ms. Carmen speechless.
“Carmen, no!” Calli cried. “Minnie, watch out!”
Carmen slammed into Minnie from behind, sending her flying across the tiled floor to slither into the leg of one of the benches. Her shoulder took the impact. She couldn’t scream or cry out—her breath had been snatched by her surprise.
Carmen was on top of her and despite Carmen’s slenderness, she was all muscle and heavy. She leaned over Minnie. “At least I’m not stupid enough to get the men I sleep with killed.” She spat in Minnie’s face.
Black Heart Page 6
