“My dear, you mean to say that you’ve come all this way hoping to find your brother?”
She nodded. “Can you tell me anything about what’s happened in Managna?”
The priest’s eyes saddened. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve heard of your brother, yes, and the work he’s done among the people. He’s spoken of with great love.”
“He’s been arrested?”
The priest studied her for a long moment before answering. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Then he’s alive.” Her spirits soared. Luke was alive. Alive. The music of relief made for a lovely song.
“My dear, I’m sorry, I can’t say. I simply don’t know.”
Her shoulders slouched with the weight of her dashed hopes.
“It was for your brother that you were praying just now?” he asked gently.
Luke, yes, but her heart had been filled with Murphy as well. He’d come to Zarcero because she’d needed him. Despite knowing she’d tricked him, he’d continued with the mission. She wouldn’t have blamed him had he dumped her then and there. Although he struggled to depict himself as a scoundrel, Murphy was an honorable man. In this instance he’d behaved more ethically than she. She’d tricked him. Duped him. All for her own purposes.
“My dear,” Father Alfaro whispered, “are you alone?”
“Alone?” She glanced over her shoulder, uncertain what he was asking. That no one else was with her was obvious.
“Is there another traveling with you, perhaps a man?” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper.
“We were separated,” she answered, making sure her own voice contained only a hint of sound. “How did you know?”
The faintest hint of a smile touched the corners of the elderly priest’s eyes. “It is better that I don’t answer.”
“A friend helped me cross from Hojancha into Zarcero.”
“And your friend? You say you were separated? How long ago?”
“Two days. I thought I saw someone who knew Luke, and when I turned around…my friend wasn’t there. I’ve spent every minute since searching for him.”
The priest frowned.
“Have you heard anything about…my friend?” Letty felt as though a vital part of herself were missing. Without Murphy she was lost and confused. Uncertain where to go or what to do next. All the while, Luke’s life hung in the balance.
“No, nothing,” Father Alfaro whispered.
“And nothing about Luke?”
“I cannot help you with your brother.”
“Please,” Letty pleaded, squeezing his hand. “I must find my brother.”
“I’m sorry, my child.”
“But surely there’s someone who can help me.” She had nowhere else to turn. Nowhere else to go. If Father Alfaro refused her, she might as well surrender herself to the authorities. If ever she’d been aware of her own powerlessness, it had been in the last two days without Murphy. He’d become more than her guide and protector. Much more. He’d lent her the confidence she’d needed. The courage to face the future.
Father Alfaro stared at her with unflinching regard, as if seeing her for the first time. It was the look of a man who was being asked to risk his life for a stranger on the strength of his intuition. The strength of his ability to gauge her character.
“I know a man who can get us information about your brother.” Again the words were whispered so low that there was almost no sound. His breath brushed past her ear.
“Please, oh, please,” she said eagerly, doing her best to constrain herself. “I’ll do anything. Pay anything. Can you take me to meet him? But we must hurry. I fear Luke’s in grave danger.”
“No. You must not see this man, or talk to him.”
“But—”
“You heard of the four boys who were executed?”
She nodded. The streets had been filled with news of the horror.
“They were all from Managna.”
“No,” Letty gasped.
Father Alfaro nodded sadly. “So it is said.”
“Could it be that my brother was shot with them?” Letty asked, barely able to think past the anxiety she felt for her twin.
“I can’t answer your questions,” the priest answered gently. “But I will do what I can to help you find the information you need. In my heart, I feel God will answer your prayers and you’ll find both these men you love so much.”
Letty sucked in her breath. Both men she loved so much….
The old priest was right, she realized with a shock. She had fallen in love with Murphy. It wasn’t anything she’d expected to happen. Certainly nothing she’d planned. She wasn’t even sure she was pleased about it. In the two days they’d been apart, she’d felt as if a giant hole had opened up in the area of her heart.
“Oh no,” she said aloud.
“No?” The priest regarded her quizzically.
“Not Murphy,” she whined, barely realizing what she was saying. Life would be so much more predictable with Slim. Safe, kind-hearted Slim. Even if she did love Murphy, that didn’t mean he wanted anything to do with her.
The door behind them creaked. Letty tensed, as did Father Alfaro.
“You must go,” he whispered, “and quickly. Return to the church tomorrow morning. I will find out what I can about your brother.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. She turned to retreat from the pew at the far end.
“Judas H. Priest. Letty.”
A harsh male voice echoed like a pistol shot through the church.
“Murphy.” She scrambled onto the polished wooden pew, leaped over the back, and raced toward him. He looked like hell warmed over. As bad as she felt.
He held his arms open, and laughing and crying, she flew into his embrace.
His arms closed over her and held her with such strength that she couldn’t breathe. Letty didn’t care. Her lungs might not be able to function, but her heart was in fine shape.
“Where the bloody hell have you been for the last two days?”
“Me?” she gasped. “Where were you?”
He didn’t answer. “You try this kind of stupid stunt again and I’ll—”
“Yes. Yes.”
Slanting his mouth over hers, he kissed her with an urgency and hunger that robbed her of what little breath remained in her.
“I should kill you after what I’ve been through the last two days.”
“This hasn’t exactly been a picnic for me.”
He didn’t stop kissing her. Again and again his mouth roughly claimed hers. His teeth ground against hers, and when she sighed, his tongue swept the moist interior until they were both panting and breathless.
She twined her arms around his neck and stepped onto her tiptoes. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“I couldn’t make myself stop looking for you,” he murmured between kisses.
“I was so afraid.”
Murphy chuckled. “You? I don’t believe it for a moment.”
Father Alfaro cleared his throat pointedly. “Perhaps you should introduce me to your friend, my dear.”
30
Keeping his arm around Letty, Murphy turned to face the man of the cloth. He wasn’t going to let Letty out of his sight unless he could be certain exactly where he could find her again. In the last two days he’d turned San Paulo upside down looking for her, worrying about her damn fool neck and risking his own in the process.
“Murphy, this is Father Alfaro.” Letty gestured toward the priest.
“Pleased to meet you, Father,” Murphy muttered, leaned forward, and offered the older man his hand.
“Father has a friend, someone who might be able to find out what’s happened to Luke.”
Murphy studied the priest, wondering exactly how much they should trust this man. His instincts were generally good, and it seemed to him the priest could be counted as an ally.
While Murphy had roamed the city, he’d made a few subtle inquiries of his own and learned that Commander Faqueza, th
e man in charge of the military complex, was a real bad-ass. Faqueza had a reputation for torturing his prisoners and enjoying the process of crippling them mentally. If by some miracle Letty’s brother was alive, Faqueza might well have broken him. Letty could be risking her life for a brother gone mad with pain.
“I’ll learn what I can,” Father Alfaro assured Luke, “but I can’t make any promises.”
The priest’s gaze held his a second or two longer than necessary, as if to say he didn’t personally hold out much hope Luke was alive.
“I can’t tell you how much we appreciate this,” Letty responded for them both.
Murphy’s hand tightened around her shoulder. The relief he’d experienced when he’d walked into the church and found her was beyond description. He’d given up, convinced himself the only way he’d connect with her again was through Luke.
For two solid days the uneasy restless sensation in the pit of his stomach had persisted. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the feeling he should be able to find Letty.
Not until the sun had set and night had blanketed the capital city had Murphy recalled that when they’d separated briefly in Siguierres, the first place Letty had gone to had been the local church. As soon as he’d remembered that, he’d quickly stalked from one house of worship to another, looking for any trace of her.
“We’ve got another problem,” Murphy told her grimly. Now that he knew Norte was in town, the sooner they found Luke the better. Murphy was smart enough to recognize that Norte’s presence was no coincidence.
“What?” Her anxious eyes met his.
“Norte’s in town.”
“You know Captain Norte?” Father Alfaro’s voice dipped with tension as he mentioned the other man’s name.
Murphy nodded.
“I don’t think you’d say we were two of his favorite people,” Letty said, and Murphy felt the tension tighten her shoulders.
The priest shook his head sadly. “Captain Norte does not make a good enemy.”
Murphy had already determined as much.
“You must not be seen together.” Father Alfaro rubbed his hands together nervously. He shot them a look and seemed to come to some sort of decision. “Come,” he ordered. “You’ll be safe with me. Hopefully by morning I’ll have some news of your brother.”
Murphy knew the priest was taking a substantial risk on their behalf and hesitated to place the other man in danger. If not for Letty, he would have refused.
Father Alfaro seemed aware of Murphy’s concern. “You needn’t worry. I’ve placed my life in God’s hands many times.” Expecting them to follow obediently, the priest led the way out of the sanctuary.
Once outside, Father Alfaro walked in the shadows around the side of the church to the two-story structure next door. They entered the back of the building and made their way through the kitchen and down a long hallway.
Murphy noticed that Father Alfaro moved as silently as possible and didn’t turn on any lights. He paused at the bottom of the stairs and glanced upward, waited a moment, then escorted them into what looked to be a library. Once inside, he closed the door softly. The moonlight that filtered in from the windows was minimal.
Murphy smelled lemon oil and old books, not an unpleasant combination. The priest flattened his hand against the fireplace mantel and appeared to be searching for something. After a moment Murphy heard a soft clicking sound and then watched in amazement as a bookcase swung open like a door inviting them into a magical, fictional world. Only all that was inside the compact space was a cot and nightstand.
“You’ll be safe here for the time being,” the old priest told them. “I’ll come for you in the morning as soon as I can. Until then I must ask you to be as silent as possible.”
Murphy nodded, and with Letty at his side the two entered the secret room. Letty sat on the side of the bed, and from the way her shoulders slumped forward, Murphy could see that she was exhausted. He wasn’t in much better physical shape himself. The emotional and physical demands of the last two days had taken their toll on him as well.
“Rest well, my friends,” Father Alfaro whispered before the bookshelf silently slid back into place.
The space was instantly dark and smelled of old books, dust, and mildew. The little light afforded them came through narrow cracks in the bookcase.
Murphy stood for a moment and found his bearings. Locked inside a secret room in a priest’s home wasn’t something handled in any military handbook. It sure as hell wasn’t anything he’d run into in all his years of soldiering. But his main concern was Letty’s safety, and he figured they’d be secure enough.
He heard her stretch out on the narrow cot and half expected her to insist that since there was only one bed, he should take the floor. Unwilling to argue with her, he was about to do exactly that when she whispered, “There’s room enough for you, too.” Her voice was reed thin and inviting.
Something was definitely wrong. Murphy resisted the urge to slam his palm against his ear and clear his head. He actually hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea for them to be that close. Tired as he was, it would be damn difficult to resist making love to Letty. This, he decided, was a symptom of utter exhaustion.
This woman owed him. She’d promised him. He wanted to make love to her more than he’d ever desired any woman. And yet…
“Murphy?”
Silently he moved toward the cot. She’d scooted as far as possible to one side and still remained on the bed. Murphy removed his gun and set it on the night-stand within easy reach.
“How is it,” he couldn’t resist asking, “that of all the churches in San Paulo you stumble upon the one priest involved in covert activities?” He wasn’t accustomed to dealing with this kind of incredible luck. Talk about a needle in a haystack.
Letty took an elongated moment to answer him. “I believe God sent me to Father Alfaro.”
Had there been more light, Letty would have seen him scowl. Murphy wasn’t comfortable with her response. If God was willing to allot favors, there were a number of more important ones he wanted. Then again, it would be just like this God of Letty’s to see fit to place them both in the path of temptation. If having them sleep together was God’s idea of a joke, Murphy wasn’t laughing.
He reluctantly eased himself down on the cot. Although she’d insisted there was plenty of room for them both, there wasn’t. He twisted, rolled from one side to the other. Together they discovered the most comfortable position was for him to lie on his back and for her to sleep on her side with her head tucked against his chest.
Murphy’s eyes drifted closed as he hugged Letty to him. Her arm came around his waist and she released a soft, feminine sigh of contentment. This was about as close to heaven that Murphy intended to get. This woman felt incredibly good in his arms. The kind of good that had as much to do with the emotional as it did the physical. The kind of good a man like Murphy feared most, because it meant he cared.
Caring was an expensive emotion for a mercenary. It had cost the life of more than one good man. He’d seen Cain take a bullet because his thinking was muddled with thoughts of Linette. He was determined not to let the same thing happen to him.
“Father Alfaro knew about you,” Letty said, cutting into his thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
“He asked if I was traveling with a man.”
“When?”
“Early on, when we first started talking.”
Murphy had to give the matter some thought. He suspected the priest had connections with the CIA, which was good news as far as Murphy was concerned. He might well be in need of those alliances.
“I’m so tired,” Letty whispered, and nestled deeper into his embrace.
“I know, sweetheart.”
“I’m not sure what I would have done if I hadn’t found you.” She yawned a second time.
“Me either,” he admitted. He could feel himself giving in to the demands of his body. Before he fell completely asleep, h
e cupped her shoulder and lowered his chin just enough to touch the top of her head. Dropping his guard completely, he wallowed in the rightness of having her in his arms. He might as well own up to the truth. He cared deeply for Letty.
31
“Luke.”
His name came to him on the faintest breath of sound. He rolled his head to one side and opened his eyes. Rosita’s face was framed in the small square box of his metal cell door.
“Rosita?” Was it possible that she could be real? His heart slammed against his ribs as he carefully eased himself off the cot, trying to ignore the pain. He moaned with the effort it cost him to move. The agony went deep, but he would have suffered far worse for the chance to see Rosita.
“I’m here.”
Little more than her beautiful dark eyes showed through the box. But it was enough to send joy crashing through him. This gift, this wonder of seeing the woman he loved, brought him incredible happiness.
“How is it you’re here when—”
“Don’t ask. They won’t let me inside your cell. Not again.” “Then you were here before?”
“Yes.” She blinked back tears. “Please, let me touch you.” The only part of her hand that she could get past the steel bars were two fingers. Luke pressed his lips against the pad of one and nearly wept. Her fingers worked against his face, caressing his unshaven cheek. He closed his eyes, savoring the simple pleasure of her touch.
“I’ll always love you,” he told her, choking on emotion. He paused, fearing if he spoke again, he wouldn’t be able to keep from sobbing.
“And I’ll always love you.”
For the longest moment they did nothing but cherish this unguarded gift of being together. The thick metal door couldn’t bar the love he felt for Rosita or hold hers back from him.
“Are they beating you?” Rosita asked in a voice that said she feared the truth.
He couldn’t lie to her. “Some. Not as bad as in the beginning.”
He watched as the tears crowded her eyes, making them bright and clear; then the moisture spilled down the side of her face.
Sooner or Later Page 21
