TWELVE
Briggs had had enough airport experience lately to last him the rest of his life. As it turned out, he got little actual R & R at the hotel. But despite a crashing hangover, he was up at the crack of dawn to make his seveno’clock flight out of McAllen-Miller International Airport. Nobody could say he wasn’t diligent about fulfilling his responsibilities to the judge.
In one of those stupid flukes of the airline industry, he had to take a short hop northeast to Houston in order to fly west to Del Rio and probably wouldn’t get across the border to Acuña until late afternoon.
Somehow, he didn’t care. Just get him in a semivertical position and he’d be out like a light.
After going through security and checking in at the gate, he found a booth in the café and ordered a plate of pancakes while he read the newspaper. Might as well find out what was going on in the world. As the judge had predicted, the list of nominees for attorney general was on the front page of the national section.
Whoo-ee. The fat was about to hit the fire. Grenville had better get ready for some good old-fashioned Washington, D.C., mudslinging. Other than this Malone girl, he shouldn’t have any problem. Thanks in large part to Briggs himself, the man’s reputation was clean as a whistle.
Briggs would just have to make sure it stayed that way. Bound to be a hefty reward when Grenville got established in Washington.
Acapulco, here I come.
Benny woke up with something breathing on her cheek. Brushing at it, she rolled over and came in contact with a cold, wet nose attached to an ugly brown half Labrador, half something else.
The Carmichaels’ dog, Fonzie.
He gave a happy woof and licked her chin.
“Hey, Fonz,” she croaked, “who let you in?”
A glance at the open door answered that question. Danilo, dressed in shorts, T-shirt and black cape, beamed at her. “Aunt Benny! You came to see me!”
“I sure did.” She shoved her hair out of her eyes. “Come give me a hug.”
He barreled into the room, dove across the dog and landed on the bed.
Benny held him tight, though she wasn’t sure if she was participating in a hug or a wrestling match. “Where’s your mommy?”
“In the kitchen. She’s making Daddy and me stay out of the dough, and Owen’s outside having his prayer time, so I decided to see if you was up.”
“I’m glad you did. Did you bring Mercedes with you?”
“Yep. But she’s out in the hall. I don’t know why she wouldn’t come in.”
“Go get her and tell her I need another hug.”
Danilo dashed for the door and came back holding his eight-year-old sister by the hand.
Mercedes was adopted, but it was startling how much the children favored one another. Both had the warm brown skin tone, big dark eyes and thick black hair of Hispanic descent, but the similarity was more in a bright, intelligent, well-loved expression than physical appearance.
Benny held out her arms, beckoning with her fingers. Mercedes’s face lit. She dove toward Benny with nearly as much enthusiasm as Danilo. Pulling back, the little girl enunciated carefully, “I’m glad you’re here.”
Teary-eyed at the deaf child’s enormous progress since the last time she’d seen her, Benny cupped her sweet little face. “I am, too. I missed you.” She drew her feet up cross-legged to make room for the children. “Thank you for letting me sleep in your bed.”
“Where have you been?” Danilo bounced into the middle of the bed as if it were a trampoline, while Mercedes sat in ladylike fashion on the edge.
Benny hauled Danilo into her lap before he could make another leap. “In Mexico. Helping the doctors and dentists.”
Danilo’s eyes widened. “I like my dentist! He gives me bubble gum toothpaste and tickles my teeth. See? My front one is getting loose.”
Benny obligingly wiggled the little tooth offered for her inspection and whistled in admiration. “Won’t be long.”
“Mercedes gets a whole quarter under her pillow when she loses hers. I’m gonna buy a comic book when mine falls out.”
Mercedes laid a gentle hand on Benny’s arm to get her attention. “I drew you a picture.”
“Did you?” Benny smiled. “Then let me get dressed and we’ll go look at it. Maybe the cinnamon rolls will be ready by then.”
“Okay.” Mercedes slid off the bed.
But Danilo latched on to Benny’s neck. “I wanted to tell you about my comic book!”
Mercedes intervened, vehemently signing something to Danilo.
Looking chagrined, he signed something back.
Mercedes repeated her motions and Danilo reluctantly released Benny. “Oh, okay. I’ll tell you about it later.” He ran for the door. “But hurry!” he shouted as he slammed it behind him.
Shaking her head, Mercedes lifted her hands as if she were eighteen instead of eight. “Boys,” she said clearly, then followed her brother, towing Fonzie by the collar.
Benny took a quick shower in Isabel’s upstairs bathroom, luxuriating in warm, parasite-free water. The tub was clean but crowded with plastic action figures and fat wax tub crayons. She washed her hair with Sponge-Bob SquarePants shampoo and smiled as she dried off with a Disney character beach towel. Made her look forward to getting back to Acuña to see her kids.
She couldn’t help wondering which of them would still be there by the time she made it back. Sometimes extended families insisted on bringing the children home, and on rare occasions, foster or permanent homes turned up. The teenagers, sadly, sometimes moved out to pursue deplorable jobs in the area’s bars and brothels.
Those were the ones that broke her heart.
But she had to make a decision about what she was going to do about Grenville. She knew who he was, what he had done—to her and to other young girls like her. For all she knew, he still preyed on teenagers. The thought brought nausea rolling into her stomach.
She stood at the bathroom mirror, wrapped in the robe Isabel had loaned her, hands flat on the counter. Did it show? Could anybody tell what had happened to her?
Unclean, whispered the ugly voice that trapped her sometimes when she least expected it. Not fit for His love.
Not fit for anybody’s love.
Fists clenched, she battled it. Eyes open. Truth.
Truth, Bernadette.
Out loud, she repeated words that had sustained her for years. “But when the kindness and love of God, our Savior, appeared, He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done but because of His mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom He poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ, our Savior.”
Crying, she relaxed her shaking hands and looked in the mirror. Clean outside, new inside.
Owen sat on the back patio with his brother, a glass of iced tea at his elbow. With half an ear tuned for Bernadette’s voice, he scratched the dog behind his floppy brown ears. For the last fifteen minutes he’d been watching the kids tussle on the trampoline like a couple of puppies. Danilo kept double-bouncing, upsetting Mercedes’s graceful gymnastics. One day she was going to whop him upside the head and it would all be over with.
He wished Benny would hurry up and come outside to keep him company. He’d never particularly noticed Eli and Isabel cooing like a couple of domestic pigeons—or if he did, it hadn’t bothered him. But Eli had just now snagged his wife around the waist as she walked by with a plate of fresh cinnamon rolls and pulled her into his lap.
“Eli, at least let me put these on the table,” she protested, as he kissed her under her ear.
“I’ll take ’em,” Eli said.
Owen looked away, uncomfortable, but he couldn’t block out the sound of Isabel’s soft giggle.
“Excuse me, guys.” He got up and headed for the sliding glass door. “I need to make a phone call.”
“But you haven’t eaten—” Isabel gasped, as Eli chuckled. “Quit, Eli!”
“I had half a dozen
of those things in the middle of the night, remember?” Owen went into the house and yanked his cell phone out of his pocket. Oh, brother. If he ever got married, he’d be more considerate of innocent bystanders.
He dropped into the recliner and speed-dialed the station in Del Rio. One of the guys on duty answered. Sounded like Kennedy.
“Hey, this is Carmichael. Is Dean there?”
“Carmichael! You back? How was old Mexico?”
Everybody down there knew everybody else’s business. But he wasn’t about to fill a kid like Kennedy in on the particulars. “Not too bad. Can I speak to Dean?”
“Yeah, sure. Just a sec.”
Owen waited, glancing toward the stairs. Hold off for just a few minutes, Bernadette.
“Dean here. What’s up, Carmichael? You through messin’ around with the señoritas across the border? Ready to come back to work?”
“Well, that’s just it, sir. I’m hoping you’ll approve another week’s leave for me.”
“Another week? Why?”
“Something came up while I was down there. My plane had a problem and I, well, I had to make an emergency landing in a barn.”
“And…”
“And I’ve got to, uh, take care of the problem. I had to leave the plane there, so…It’s just not a good situation, sir. I’d like to straighten out the mess before I come back to the sector.”
“Carmichael.” Dean hissed out his patented irritated sigh. “This sounds like something I really don’t want to know. Is this…problem…something you can take care of in three days? Say by Wednesday?”
Owen mentally calculated. The earliest he could charter a plane to fly Bernadette to Memphis would be Monday. Two days’ travel, plus whatever time it took her to take care of her business…
“I don’t think so, sir. I really need the whole week.” Owen had never been one for groveling. He gritted his teeth. For Bernadette. “Please, I’ll work night shifts for the rest of the quarter.”
“You may be doing that anyway,” growled Dean. “We’re shorthanded because recruiting’s down with everything that’s been in the news lately.” He paused and Owen waited. Please, Lord. “All right, Carmichael, but this is it. Get your keister back here by a week Monday.”
“Yes, sir. I will. And thank you.”
Owen hung up before Dean could change his mind.
He heard a footfall on the stairs and looked up. Bernadette stood on the bottom step, a hand on the banister. She had on one of Isabel’s yellow sundresses with a pair of sparkly flip-flops. Her hair was damp and flyaway, and her eyes were huge.
“You’re going to fly me to Memphis?”
“Gotta find my Daisy Jane,” he joked, quoting an old America song he liked.
She walked toward him. “I can go by myself.”
“We’ve already covered that territory. You said I could go with you. No takebacks.”
“I didn’t think you’d be able to get off work.”
Hurt seared him. He stood up. “The only reason you said you wanted me was because you didn’t think I could?”
“That’s not what I—ooh.” She crossed her arms in front of her stomach. “Don’t be such a baby, Owen. Of course I want you to come. I just don’t want you to get in trouble with your supervisor. I know he can be kind of a bear.”
“Okay, sorry.” He ran a hand around the back of his neck. “Well, he said I could go. But I can’t get hold of a plane until Monday. So I have a plan if it’s okay with you.”
“Monday? But I wanted to leave today.”
“I know, but there are a couple of reasons why we shouldn’t.” He walked toward her, just so he could get a closer whiff of that vanilla stuff. She smelled like a cookie. “First of all, if the hit man’s still looking for you, he’ll be watching the airport today and tomorrow. If we wait until Monday, we may stand a better chance of sneaking out. Also, I thought you might like to go to the Riverwalk this afternoon and do a little shopping. We both need clothes, right? We can blend into the crowds, get something to eat, listen to the music…”
He stepped closer, but something in her expression warned him to stop. He saw goose bumps on her arms, and the tender spot under her jaw worked.
She wanted to say yes, but she was going to say no anyway. She opened her mouth.
“Okay, we’ll do it,” she said in a rush, as if she were outrunning herself. “But just as friends, okay? This is not a date, right?”
“Right.” He sighed. “I wouldn’t dream of making a date with you.”
Hearing Owen beg for another week off did something to Benny’s resistance. But maybe she could handle an evening in his company without coming unglued. Or letting him lure her into dropping her guard.
She stood in front of Isabel’s closet, trying to choose an outfit that would make her feel in control of the situation. “Owen said it would be warm this afternoon and chilly tonight.” She looked over her shoulder.
Isabel stood behind her, hands on hips, a thoughtful frown puckering her fine black eyebrows. “That’s true. Springtime here can be unpredictable. I think you should just wear the dress you have on and bring my denim jacket to put on when the sun goes down.”
“Okay, but what about shoes? I don’t think the flip-flops will work for much walking. I could put my sandals back on—”
“No, no, no!” Isabel looked horrified. “Don’t you dare spoil that pretty dress with leather huaraches. I made it to go with these flip-flops. Just wear them and when you get to town you can buy some new flats.”
Benny sighed. “There’s just one problem. Everybody wants me to shop for clothes and shoes, but I don’t have any money. And I don’t get paid until the end of the month.” She winced. “Missionaries don’t make much money.”
Isabel smiled. “I consider this my own personal mission project. Owen will buy what you want, then I’ll pay him back. If you had time, I’d sew for you, but this is an emergency.”
“Isabel, you and Eli don’t exactly have money running out your ears, either! You’re in college, and with the two kids—”
“I’m on a full scholarship,” Isabel said with justifiable pride. “My mother helps out with child care when we need it, and Eli just got a raise. So there.” Her full lips quirked.
“Okay. One outfit, then. But don’t let Owen talk you into letting him pay for it! That just wouldn’t be—wouldn’t be right.”
“Deal.” Isabel pulled a feminine little denim jacket out of the closet and handed it to her. “But don’t forget to buy underwear,” she added with a twinkle.
Trust Isabel to be practical. “That’s going to be interesting, with Owen hanging around. Maybe I can send him to look at knives or something.” Benny smiled. “I have one more favor, if you’re still feeling charitable. I need to borrow your computer and send an e-mail to the Garretts before Owen and I leave for the Riverwalk. They’re the missionary family I was helping down in Agrexco. I’m sure they’re wondering what in the world happened to me.”
“Of course. I should’ve thought of that. Come on, the computer’s in my sewing room. You can have some privacy there.”
A few minutes later, Benny was seated at the computer, trying to remember the Garretts’ e-mail address. It wasn’t easy to compose a simple explanation for her disappearance that would make sense. In the end, she simply wrote, There was an emergency and I had to leave with Owen. I’m sorry to have left you in the lurch like that. Please forgive me. We’re safely back in the States and I’ll e-mail again when I get a chance. If you could mail my phone to me, I’d appreciate it. Take care. Love, Benny.
Well, that’s short and sweet, she thought, pulling up her Internet service provider’s Web site. Just cut to the chase and leave out anything that tells what really happened. Oh, well, I’ll make it up to them later.
Owen parked Eli’s truck at the Alamo’s visitors’ lot and got out to help Bernadette down. He liked the fact that she waited for him to come around and open her door. Like Isabel, she was a perfect la
dy.
Both women were petite, dark-haired and dark-eyed, too. But the resemblance ended there. Isabel had the ivory skin tone of a classic Latina, with a rounded figure and quick, decisive motions. She tended to be chatty, too, and laughed easily.
Bernadette, on the other hand, reminded him of pre-Civil War photographs he’d seen of beautiful French Quarter quadroons. Slight, languid, reticent. Mysterious.
She lightly gripped his fingers as she slipped to the ground but immediately let go. “Thanks.” She stepped around him, clutching her jacket.
“Have you ever been through the Alamo?” he asked as they picked their way down the uneven sidewalk. It ran along a busy street, and Saturday traffic was crazy, even midafternoon.
“Sure. I’ve brought groups of kids here before. It’s one of my favorite historic places.” She looked at him. “Kind of sad, though. All those people who died.”
“Lots of heroes in the story, though. Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie—Eli’s the history nut in our family, but Dad made us come a couple of times when we were growing up.”
“I take it that wasn’t your idea of a good time.”
“Well, like you said, it was a bit solemn for me. I preferred the camping trips.”
They walked past the ancient outer walls of the Alamo mission onto the Plaza. Pigeons strutted on the sidewalk, families picnicked on the shaded benches and some guy was standing on a box preaching fire and brimstone to anybody within shouting distance. A few yards away, a cotton-candy stand sprouted fluffy pink and blue treats.
“Want one?”
Benny shook her head, her gaze on the preacher. “Wonder if anybody ever listens to him.”
Owen shrugged. Wild-eyed fanatics like that made him squirm. Which was weird, because Benny was a missionary, too. She made him squirm in a completely different way. Amused at the thought, he caught her hand. “Come on, let’s go across to the Riverwalk.” When she gave him a look, he smiled. “I don’t want to go off and leave you.”
They crossed the street and walked a few blocks to the outdoor stairs leading down to the entrance of the Hyatt Regency. The Paseo del Alamo—the Alamo passage through the hotel—was a beautiful walk in itself. Owen couldn’t have cared less about the waterfalls, colorful mosaic tiles and shop windows, but he enjoyed Benny’s admiration. She stopped once to run her fingers over the tiles, as if trying to absorb the imagination of the artists.
On Wings of Deliverance Page 13
