“Letty?” He’d experienced just about everything in his lifetime, but he hadn’t a clue on how to comfort a crying woman. “What is it?”
“A dream.” Her hold tightened, and she trembled in his arms.
“There’s nothing to worry about—everything’s fine,” he said as matter-of-factly as he could.
“No. No, it isn’t. My brother’s in terrible pain.”
He should have known the dream involved her brother. “It was a dream, Letty. You don’t know what condition Luke’s in.”
“But I do. I saw him.”
“Saw him?” The least he could do was humor her. Murphy didn’t go for this so-called telepathy between her and Luke that she’d attempted to feed him. Something about a mental connection. Okay, so they were twins. But Luke was a man and she was a woman. He’d read that that sort of thing happened with identical twins, but even then he wasn’t entirely sure he bought it.
“He’s been tortured.”
That part Murphy could believe. If the missionary hadn’t been murdered outright, there was every possibility he’d been taken in for questioning. What Letty’s brother could possibly have to disclose remained a mystery.
Letty felt incredibly soft and vulnerable in his arms. Almost against his will, he found himself stroking her hair away from her face.
“We’ve got to find him.”
“We will,” he said as if he believed it were possible.
Letty sighed audibly, releasing her warm breath against the skin at the hollow of his throat.
“Promise me,” she insisted. “Promise me we won’t leave Zarcero without finding Luke.”
He couldn’t do that. “Letty, be reasonable.”
“Please, we’ve got to rescue him.”
Murphy said nothing. He wasn’t being cruel, just realistic. He’d like to give her all the reassurances in the world, but he couldn’t, not this time.
Not that he opposed lying to a woman in bed. He’d done it plenty of times. He simply told a woman what she wanted to hear and saved himself grief.
But he couldn’t make himself do it with Letty.
“Luke’s going to die unless we rescue him.” Her words trembled from her moist lips. Murphy felt the action of her mouth against his skin and the slick feel of her tears as they rolled down her cheeks.
“You don’t understand,” she said. “Luke’s dying.”
Murphy struggled, not knowing what to say.
“Promise me.”
Instead of comforting her, his silence agitated her, and she moaned softly, her pain and grief overwhelming her.
“All right, all right,” he whispered against her hair. “You have my word of honor. No matter what it takes, we’ll get Luke out of here.”
“Thank you. Thank you,” she repeated again and again until her voice faded completely.
Murphy didn’t know how long he continued to hold her. Long after she’d returned to sleep. Much longer than was necessary.
He’d find her brother for her. Dead or alive. If nothing else, Murphy was a man of his word.
11
Letty woke with her head nestled against Murphy’s shoulder and his arm tucked protectively about her. She felt both cozy and shielded from harm until she remembered her dream.
A sense of urgency filled her, and she rolled away from Murphy and sat up. She tried to think, tried to remember the dream. Luke, poor Luke, had called out to her to tell her he wanted to die because the pain was too much to endure any longer.
She sensed that he was already close to death. They had to get to Managna and find him before it was too late.
Brushing the wild array of hair from her face, she recalled the way she’d clung to Murphy last night and pleaded with him to find her brother. And he’d given his word. From the hesitant reluctance in his voice, she’d known he would rather have ignored her fears, but in the end he’d vowed they wouldn’t leave Zarcero without finding Luke.
The man was an enigma. In the two full days that they’d been together, he’d been impatient and sometimes cruel. Yet last night he’d taken her in his arms and agreed to rescue Luke, even if it meant putting his own life at risk. Letty simply didn’t understand him, but then she suspected that no one really did.
She felt his movement at her side as he stirred. He didn’t look at her, and she sure as heaven didn’t glance at him. The scene from the night before mortified her now.
“We need to get out of here,” he muttered, “the sooner the better.”
Letty realized Murphy was concerned about putting Carlos’s friend in danger, and she shared his fears.
“How far from San Paulo are we?”
“A hundred miles, maybe more. There’s a village close by. I’ll get us a car there.”
It went without saying that he’d have to steal it. Letty never would have believed she’d condone such an action, but she did. Her heart sagged with relief. With a vehicle and a bit of luck, they could reach San Paulo and Luke before the end of the day.
Murphy left her for a short time while he scouted out the surrounding countryside. She used the minutes effectively and was packed, ready and eager to leave the protection of the barn, when he returned.
He held open the door for her. Sunlight spilled into the cool, dim interior of the outbuilding, heralding another picture-perfect day in Zarcero.
They left the farmyard and walked through a field of tall grass, avoiding the road. For the better part of two hours they traveled without communicating.
Murphy seemed aware of every sound and stopped abruptly a couple of times. He pressed his finger over his lips and waited before proceeding.
When they came to a grove of large Guanacaste trees, Murphy stopped and reached for his canteen. He drank first, then handed it to Letty. The water tasted terrible. She’d seen Murphy add a capsule to it and knew it must have been some form of purification pill. It was difficult for Letty to estimate how far they’d traveled. It felt like five miles or farther, but she couldn’t really say.
Murphy wasn’t any friendlier than he had been earlier, which disappointed her, following his promise from the night before.
A conversationalist Murphy wasn’t.
He seemed to have reached a decision, because he sat down near a tree. Without a word he unfolded a map, pressed it down upon the ground, and studied it intently.
“How much farther is it to the village?” she asked.
He didn’t look up. “Not far.” He refolded the map carefully and placed it inside his knapsack. He stood, and Letty reluctantly came to her feet.
“I want you to stay here.”
“Why?”
He answered by removing the pistol from his shoulder holster and handing it to her.
She stared at it, almost afraid it would explode in her palm. “What’s this for?”
“I want you to keep it with you from here on out. Understand?”
“But—”
“Do you want to find your brother or not?”
“Of course, but—”
“Then do as I ask.” His eyes cut her to the quick. “You probably couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, but it’s the only security I have to offer you.”
“What should I do while you’re away?”
“Wait quietly,” he suggested impatiently.
He started to walk away, but a terrifying thought came to her. “Murphy?” she called out.
He glanced over his shoulder, looking none too pleased with her.
She implored him with her eyes, nervous and more than a little afraid. “What if…what will happen if you don’t come back?”
A slow, easy smile claimed his face as if he found her question comical. “I’ll be back.”
She nodded and offered him a shaky smile of her own. “Okay.”
Holding on to the gun with both hands, she glanced around her suspiciously, wondering if there might be guerrillas hiding in the bush, ready to attack her the minute Murphy was out of sight.
She starte
d to call out to him a second time, but he was gone. He’d virtually disappeared from one moment to the next. Vanished like a puff of smoke.
Truly alone, Letty walked the circumference of the grove and glanced at her wristwatch. Murphy had been away all of five minutes and already she was worried.
She shifted the pistol from one hand to the other, wondering if she was actually capable of killing another human being. And doubted it.
As far as she was concerned, Murphy’s lessons on firing the .45 had been for naught. Apparently it made him feel better leaving her with some form of self-defense, despite the fact she found it useless.
By five o’clock, nine hours after he’d left, Letty forced herself to stop looking at her watch. Murphy had been gone far longer than she’d expected.
He could have been captured. Could have been killed.
He had no means of letting her know his predicament. True, he’d given her specific instructions to remain right where she was, but just exactly how long was she supposed to wait? Nine hours seemed far too long.
As unpleasant as it was, she had to accept the possibility that he would never return. True, he was an expert at what he did, but that didn’t make him invulnerable.
The chance existed that he’d met up with a group of guerrillas and been taken captive himself. Perhaps he’d been caught attempting to hot-wire a vehicle and thrown in jail by the local authorities.
Fearing the worst, Letty wondered what she should do. If anything.
The option of retracing her steps and going back to the farmhouse presented itself, but she didn’t want to backtrack. Not after her nightmare. If she intended to reach Luke in time, it meant making her way into San Paulo or Managna, and she couldn’t do that waiting days on end for Murphy. Especially if he was no longer able to come for her.
On the other hand, Murphy had been specific about her following orders. She’d never seen a man so hardheaded or unreasonable. Just exactly what was she supposed to do?
The decision was made for her several minutes later when gunfire sounded in the distance.
Murphy was in trouble. She could sense it. Not in the same way she knew Luke was in trouble. This time it was woman’s intuition.
She had to find a way to save him.
Praying she was doing the right thing, Letty reached for her backpack and placed it on her shoulders. With the gun clenched in her hand, she headed in the same direction she’d seen Murphy go.
12
Jack Keller decided to let Marcie wait and wonder. Her cool reception had come as something of a shock. In the beginning he’d been angry, but he’d since changed his tune. Actually, he understood.
It’d been months since they’d last seen each other, and a woman had her pride. Things changed. People changed. He’d left her without a word. She had every right to be displeased with him, but he intended to make it up to her. Once he’d soothed her ruffled feathers, things could go back to the way they’d always been between them.
Marcie was a sensual woman, and it was rare to find one as uninhibited and generous in bed as she was. It was even more rare that she’d never asked or hinted for anything in return for her favors.
This time when he stopped off to see her, he brought long-stemmed roses. Floral shop ones that came in a box with a fancy silk ribbon, not a cheap bouquet comprising carnations and a few other common flowers.
He dressed up, too. Not a suit and tie, but in a shirt fresh from the cleaners and pressed slacks. If he’d been more certain of his reception, he would have phoned first.
When he arrived at her apartment he found her car parked at the curb. He smiled. One thing about Marcie, she was consistent. As he recalled, she wasn’t keen on a lot of change. Keller liked that. She’d lived in the same apartment for ten years and drove the same car she’d had when they’d first met.
He rang the doorbell and waited. He half expected her to answer, wearing her robe and little else. As he remembered, when she arrived home she habitually changed out of her uniform and into something more comfortable. He definitely approved of her choice.
To his surprise, she answered wearing white shorts and a high-necked, sleeveless blouse. “Johnny.” Her voice was decidedly even, and he couldn’t tell if she was pleased or not to see him.
“I came to apologize for the other day,” he said, looking and sounding contrite. “You must think me a Neanderthal to come on to you the way I did.”
She stood on the other side of the screen door, her hand on the knob as if she weren’t sure she should let him in.
Keller decided a little underhanded persuasion just might be necessary. “I would have contacted you sooner, but I was in an accident.” It was necessary to stretch the truth now and again, although he didn’t make a habit of it.
“An accident?” Her pretty eyes widened with concern.
“I’d really like to talk to you, Marcie. Nothing more, I promise.” He raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.
She hesitated.
“Please,” he added with a sincerity few could refuse.
His plan worked; she unlatched the screen door.
“It s good to see you,” he said as he walked into the apartment. He made it sound as if he were damn lucky to be alive.
To Keller’s surprise, he found the interior of her apartment markedly different. The furniture was the same, but everything else had changed. The drapes were bright, the windows sparkled. A knitting basket filled with yarn was next to the chair. Several magazines were fanned out across the top of the coffee table.
Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down. Again he made it look as if it were a trial for him to remain upright for any length of time, which wasn’t far from true. His ribs had been killing him for weeks.
He set the box of roses on the coffee table and all but collapsed against the back of the sofa.
“What happened?” she asked.
Keller hid a smile at the gentle concern in her voice. “Car accident,” he whispered. He thought to tell her there was a metal plate in his head but feared that was carrying the story a bit too far. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to talk about it.”
“Of course.” Her warm, caring voice was a balm after her earlier rebuff.
A moment of strained silence passed between them. Everything was going as planned, except that Marcie remained standing on the far side of the room almost as if she feared what would happen if she sat next to him. Keller wished she would. If he had the chance to kiss her once or twice, they might get past this awkwardness. All she really needed was a little gentle persuasion.
She seemed to be waiting for him to say something, so Keller brought up the first thing that came to mind. “The reason I stopped by, other than to apologize for the other day, was to personally thank you for bailing me out of jail.”
“It’s all right, Johnny.”
“I’d like to show you how much I appreciate our friendship, Marcie. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Several months back he’d been foolish and gotten himself arrested in a bar fight. Charges had later been dismissed, but Keller had been stuck in the clinker and would have spent the night if it hadn’t been for Marcie. Normally he would have done the time, but Murphy had needed him, and he’d had a plane to catch.
“You don’t owe me any money,” she claimed as he withdrew his wallet. “You must have forgotten with the accident and all.”
“You’re sure?”
“Oh, yes. A cashier’s check arrived a week later.”
“Good.” She’d reassured him of that earlier, but wanting to make sure she’d been reimbursed put him in a good light.
Again he confronted a short, awkward silence. “You’re looking wonderful.” That was no exaggeration. Marcie did look good. Better than he remembered. “What’s different?”
“A lot of things.”
He leaned forward, bracing his elbows against his knees. “I don’t suppose you have something to drink?” As he recalled, Marcie kept a
full liquor cabinet.
“Coffee?”
At first he thought she was joking, but it was clear she wasn’t. “Sure.”
“Sugar and cream?”
“Just black.”
She walked out of the living room, and he was left to twiddle his thumbs. Keller waited a moment and then followed her into the compact kitchen.
Marcie was busy assembling a pot and glanced over her shoulder when he entered.
“Johnny,” she said, and seemed nervous as she continued in a hurried, rushed voice. “There’s something you should know. I’m seeing someone else now.”
So that was it. Well, it didn’t come as any real surprise.
“He’s real good to me.”
“In other words he doesn’t disappear for months at a time.”
She shrugged, as if his disappearances had never really concerned her.
“I’m happy for you, sweetheart.” Keller wanted to shove his fist down the other man’s throat, but he didn’t let Marcie know that.
“You are?” She visibly relaxed.
Keller nodded. “You deserve the best.”
The coffeepot made a gurgling sound, and the dark liquid drained into the glass pot. Marcie turned and opened the cupboard doors and reached for two cups.
Keller moved behind her, pressing his body intimately against her backside. “Let me do that for you,” he whispered. She was soft, warm, and womanly. Her buttocks cushioned him as if she’d been custom-made just for him. Normally he wasn’t a jealous man, but Keller felt a flare of the ugly green monster just thinking about Marcie in bed with another man. The emotion came as an unwelcome surprise.
Gradually he eased himself away from her and brought down two ceramic mugs. “Tell me about your new boyfriend,” he encouraged. The more he knew, the better he could undermine the other man.
He noticed that Marcie’s hand shook ever so slightly as she poured the freshly brewed coffee. Keller smiled inwardly. She’d enjoyed the brief intimacy as much as he had. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t deny it.
“His name is Clifford Cramden and he’s a plumber.”
Sooner or Later Page 8
