Malice in Mexico

by Gayle Wigglesworth

  Carmelita breathlessly explained in Spanish to the clerk in the shop and Claire tried to fix things. “I’m sorry. I hope we didn’t get Carmelita in trouble. The man said we weren’t allowed, because of insurance regulations.”

  The woman looked a little shocked, and then said, “No, no problem. Don’t worry. It was my fault. I’ll explain.”

  “Well, it was very interesting. We appreciated seeing it. It’s amazing what they can do with only a little clay, isn’t it? And the ladies in the glazing area are truly artists.” Then they left the shop and climbed back into the car.

  “That was weird,” Jack said under his breath.

  “In what way?”

  “That man was very nasty to Carmelita. I expected her to burst into tears. He called her names and said no strangers were allowed. He threatened to fire her for her stupidity and said their process was secret.” Jack frowned. “I don’t know why it would be secret. Anyone wanting to copy their designs could buy pieces of their pottery to do it. And I imagine every pottery has a similar process to theirs; it certainly wouldn’t be a secret.”

  “Was there a problem?” Their driver asked politely, so Jack explained about the man kicking them out of the factory.

  The driver shook his head, glancing into the rear view mirror to see their faces. “Very strange. Most of the potteries are very willing to give customers tours of the workings. Many times my clients have toured this pottery. I don’t know why it was a problem today. I’m sorry if you were embarrassed. I could take you to another pottery for a tour if you like?”

  “No, no we were very pleased with our purchases at this pottery. And actually, we did see most of it, didn’t we Jack? There was only that other area the men came out of that we didn’t see, and I don’t even know what that section would have been used for. No, I’m sure we saw all the important parts of the process.” Claire nodded firmly. She didn’t want any trouble. She had her replacement pieces and she had watched the process of making the pots. It was enough.

  “It’s very nice of you to offer, but I think we’re done for the day,” Jack told the driver. He grinned at Claire. “I think it’s about time to check out how that new blender works, don’t you?”

  * * *

  Kathleen was still in a bad mood when she walked into the pottery. She had tried to dispel the memories of Reynald she had dredged up in the church by concentrating on memories of that day so long ago when her family was annihilated. That always got her focused on her goals, but this time she had to struggle to keep the memory bright; her mind kept drifting off to other thoughts. And now, walking into the middle of a heated argument between Miguel and two of the workers did nothing to improve her attitude.

  “It was a stupid decision. I have a notion to fire your ass. I don’t care how long you’ve been here. When I set a policy, I expect it to be followed. When I say no visitors in the back, I mean it. Got it?”

  The woman from the shop stared at him defiantly. She seemed as angry as Miguel. The other one, one of the women from the glazing section, Kathleen thought, was cowering. Tears were spilling out of her eyes. Her hand was shaking as she reached up to wipe them away.

  Miguel looked up and saw Kathleen, gave the women in front of him a disgusted look and then turned away. “Kathleen, come on back.”

  She followed him through the door, which she noted was being kept locked, and quickly scanned the four men busy working in the laboratory. She wandered further back beside Miguel, while she quickly took stock of the frogs sitting on the packing table and the satisfying stacks of sealed boxes waiting to be loaded on the truck.

  “Things are progressing. The overtime has been paying off. We might fill the truck by Thursday instead of Friday as we planned,” Miguel told her proudly.

  She nodded, agreeing with his assessment. “That would be great.” Then changing the subject, “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “Tourists. That stupid woman was giving a tour of our shop. She said they had just spent a fortune on pottery, so she thought I would want to accommodate their request to see the pots made. She had the nerve to remind me we always accommodated these requests in the past.

  “Bah, stupid woman! I’m still inclined to fire her. Why can’t people just do what they’re paid to do? Why does everyone think they can make decisions? She’s worked here for ten years, and so she thinks she owns the business.”

  Kathleen’s eyes widened with concern. “Tourists? Here in the back?”

  “No, no, not here. In the shipping bay. We keep this door locked just as you told us. But I walked through with Ben and came face to face with them. I guess I kind of lost it.” He shook his head with disgust.

  “Who were they? Why did they want to come in the back?” Kathleen was always very careful, she didn’t like surprises.

  “I didn’t ask, but I’m sure they know in the shop. I imagine they used a credit card. Most tourists do. Do you want to know the name?” At her nod he left for a while, returning with the copy of the receipt.

  Kathleen couldn’t believe her eyes. “This is the tourist who was back here?” she asked, her voice cold and angry. “Was there a man with her?”

  “Yes,” Miguel nodded, “a couple. Do you know them?”

  She nodded, thinking hard. “Unfortunately I do know them. This is the couple who bought our frog last week and caused so much trouble. Why are they back here now? This is not good! Not good at all.”

  She stared off at a wall, then making up her mind she gave specific orders. “The truck will be leaving tonight. I’ll notify Carlos. Meanwhile, you make sure everything that is ready is packed and waiting. I want the truck gone from here by midnight. Understand?”

  Miguel nodded. He didn’t look happy, but he clearly understood who was in charge.

  “After the truck is loaded let everyone go home. We’ll resume our regular schedule tomorrow.”

  Again he nodded.

  “I’ll tell my uncle. He will be angry the tourist was in the workrooms, but I will convince him you were not to blame. Understand?”

  Miguel nodded eagerly. He didn’t want to take the blame for this; he knew what happened to those who screwed up.

  “You see to the packing of the truck and Carlos will take it from there.” With that Kathleen left, still seething.

  She drove back to town way too fast, pressing her foot against the accelerator as she gritted her teeth. She stomped through the house to find her uncle, his nose in his papers at his desk.

  “I told you we should just get rid of them. I told you that.”

  He looked at her calmly. “Something wrong, Kathleen?”

  “I’ll say. Jack and Claire just had a little tour of the pottery.” She watched with satisfaction as his eyes widened, his mouth set in a grim line.

  “Were they in the back?”

  “No, the door was locked, just as I instructed. But I don’t like it. Why on earth would they have wanted to see the pottery?” She flopped down in the chair in front of his desk.

  “Maybe it was just curiosity. People find factories fascinating,” he offered hopefully.

  “Do you actually believe that? Do you think they just happened into our pottery twice? The first time they managed to take one of our frogs and the second time they checked out the workshop, just out of curiosity?”

  He shook his head glumly. “No, I don’t think it was accidental, or coincidental. I guess you’re right. It’s time they have a serious accident. And the sooner the better.”

  “Tonight would be a good time. I told Miguel the truck is to leave tonight by midnight. I’ll call Carlos and tell him he’ll have to drive back on his own. Maybe he should take his nephew. He’s been begging Carlos to let him go with him. Now he can help with the driving. I’ll stay here and make sure Jack and Claire’s accident is fatal. I’ll fly back to Houston later.”

  “All right, but let’s make sure it looks like an accident, a horrible, but serious accident. What do you have in mind?”

&n
bsp; “I would prefer an explosion, but that’s a little tricky and might look too suspicious, especially after the break in they’ve already had at the Pruitts’ house. A fire is good, but again it would be hard to make sure it got them both unless we drugged them or knocked them out. That could be a little risky; it would be hard to get into their house without alerting them. What about a hit and run? They aren’t driving, so surely we could run them over on the street somewhere.” She smiled. The thought of their broken bodies lying on the street was very pleasing to her.

  Her uncle nodded, reaching for the phone. “I’ll call Ben. He can get on this.”

  “No, wait! I’ve got them all working on getting the truck loaded and out. I’ll do it. It will be my pleasure.”

  He looked at her, his eyebrows raised. “Are you sure. It’s risky. What if there are witnesses?”

  “Please! You spent all that money on my education, remember? At least you can trust me to carry out a small assassination without a hitch.”

  He nodded. She was right. “Okay. But let me help get them in position for your hit. He picked up the phone and dialed. “Hey, tough day today, huh? Let’s get some people together for a few drinks and laughs tonight. I think we could all use some cheering up. What do you think? Mama Mia’s?” He glanced at Kathleen and seeing her head shake, spoke again. “No, I don’t think it’s the right atmosphere. What about Agave?” He smiled at Kathleen’s nod. “Right. Okay, spread the word and I’ll see you there about nine.” He hung up saying, “That was almost too easy.

  “I’ll be there to make sure they show up. You can park down on Hernandez Macias where you can see the front door and watch for them to come out. Too bad we’re using the truck tonight. It would be the perfect vehicle for this. Don’t use your car....”

  “I know what to do,” she retorted sharply. “I’ll get a truck. Don’t worry, I’ve been trained.”

  He nodded. “Okay, sometimes I forget you’re grown up now. Keep your phone on in case I have to get in touch with you. If they try to leave with anyone else, I’ll interrupt and try to distract the other person. Okay?”

  Kathleen nodded curtly then left the room to contact Carlos, already planning every little detail of tonight’s hit.

  * * *

  The Agave was a charming restaurant. It was set in an atrium filled with marble columns, green leafy plants and even a fountain in the middle. On one side between the restaurant tables and the doors leading to a sports bar, a small jazz combo was set up. The bass, keyboard, drums and saxophone were playing soft jazz from the forties and fifties. Jack and Claire were leisurely sipping their coffee, ending the great meal they had eaten. They had seen Freddy and Denny, who they had met at Teddy’s party, slip in and take a place at the restaurant bar, located at the back of the atrium before the kitchen. This bar was separate from the sports bar. It was part of the restaurant and had the same open air feeling as the restaurant. The generous half circle shaped bar was augmented by tall, but small, tables surrounded by more barstools. More and more people they knew were arriving and joining Freddy and Denny in the bar. So after the jazz combo took a break and Jack settled their tab, they got up and moved to the bar.

  Jeff waved them over and indicated a seat beside him. “Jack, bring another of those stools over here, will you?”

  Claire climbed up beside Jeff, smiling at the others around the four tables which had been pushed close to each other in an irregular line.

  “There you are,” Kaye Carter said. “I thought maybe you weren’t coming.”

  “Not a chance,” Jack said as he climbed up on his stool. “We were the first, sitting over there having dinner.” He gestured to their now deserted table.

  “Oh, smart. They serve a great steak here. Did you have it?” Steve asked.

  “No, afraid not. I had chicken in mole, and Claire had fish, but I assure you they were wonderful. I don’t know why Teddy didn’t put this restaurant on the top of the list.”

  “Don’t complain, at least you got a list. When Steve and I moved here we knew no one, and nothing. We learned everything by trial and error, didn’t we Steve?”

  “And we had lots of trials and lots of errors.” They both laughed; time had a way of turning disasters into fond memories.

  Claire squeezed the wedge of lime into her mineral water while she looked around the group. It was noisy and friendly, and she felt like she belonged here. It was hard to remember it had only been a week since they had first joined Teddy at Mama Mia’s. Tonight, Teddy wasn’t here, having flown to Boston earlier. Steve Carter was present, and the odd, bald Graves was here, as was Isobelle, but the Mondot sisters were not. Freddy and Denny whom she had met at Teddy’s party, were sitting across from her tonight, next to Barry, the hairstylist, and his friend, Bill. Two other couples were at the other end, people she had seen at Teddy’s and today at the church, but didn’t really know.

  Earlier Jack had suggested mixing up a batch of Margaritas when the Carters called. Steve told them a plan was afoot to chase away the blues with drinks, jazz and good company, tonight at the Agave. It had sounded like a good idea since today’s funeral had been a sobering experience, which was going to haunt them for a while. Since they hadn’t made plans for dinner, they decided to go early and try the restaurant which was on Teddy’s list.

  “We don’t have to stay long. We’ll just join them for a while and then come home,” Jack decided and Claire agreed.

  But as it turned out, it was a fun, relaxed time; the music was good and the setting enjoyable, so they stayed longer than they intended.

  Claire stretched, looking around and realized at least half of the group had already left. She glanced at her watch. It was after twelve. No wonder she was feeling tired. She nudged Jack; he had been nursing the same beer for over an hour while conversing with Graves and Bill about the financial stability of the dot coms in Silicon Valley. He pulled himself away and, seeing her look, nodded. She smiled to herself. Already they were acting like an old married couple with secret signals.

  Jack slipped off his stool and steadied Claire when she joined him on the floor. “We’ve got to go folks. We somehow stayed up way past our bedtime. Thanks for the invite.” Jack went over to the waitress and settled their bill, while Jeff, somewhat blearily said, “Claire, have the guy at the door call you a cab.”

  “No thanks, Jeff. We like to walk.”

  “Hey, it is late, maybe I should walk with you. I left my car behind my shop,” Isobelle said. But Graves offered gallantly, “It would be my pleasure, lovely Isobelle, to drive you to your car when it’s time to leave.”

  She laughed. “How could I refuse your kind offer?” She turned back to her drink and conversation while Jack followed Claire toward the door. She was happily humming Blueberry Hill along with the band.

  CHAPTER 13

  Kathleen surveyed the dark street once more. She had a good view down the block to the entrance of the Agave. Luckily, tonight the Teatro Angela Peralta on the corner was dark so the area was deserted. If Claire and Jack came this way she would get them when they turned on to Hernandez Macias, and if they went the other way she would catch up with them and mow them down further down Calle Mesones. Either way she was determined to eliminate them tonight.

  She hadn’t been entirely truthful about them to her uncle. While it was true she thought them a threat to their plan, and she found it was most annoying how they kept popping up in the most awkward places, the real reason she wanted to destroy them was because Jack kept reminding her of Reynald. It was something about his composure, a gleam in his eyes, and the way he carried himself. Plus, she thought with a stab of jealousy, his obvious devotion to Claire was galling.

  In another life, another world, Claire and Jack could have been her and her husband. No, she tried to ignore that thought, but it was dark and still, and somehow the memories wormed their way into her brain.

  * * *

  Those were happy times for her, as she felt certain they were for Reyn
ald. They made a good team, and together they not only turned out a steady stream of recruits honed into ferocious fighting machines, but they successfully completed several tricky missions for which they were paid handsomely. It was during the celebration of one of those successes in Rio, they decided to cement their partnership by getting married. It was an old fashioned concept, but secretly Kathleen was pleased Reynald was willing to declare their love for the whole world to see. Reynald had come to mean everything to her; he had even become more important than her promise to her uncle to make the English pay for their destruction of their family. Each time her uncle asked her when she was going to return she had made some excuse, not willing to face a life without her Captain. So when she entered their hut one afternoon and found Reynald furtively packing his duffle she was dismayed.

  “What’s up? Are we going somewhere?”

  He frowned, refusing to meet her eyes as he said abruptly, “Just me. I’ll only be gone a short while. This time you will wait here and continue with the schedule for this new batch of trainees.”

  “You are going without me? Where? Why can’t I come too? We’re a team, remember?” She wasn’t whining, she was just very surprised and yes, she was hurt that he was willing to leave her behind.

  “This is a job for one person. Get in, do it and get out. Two people will just increase the chances of getting caught. This time I don’t need you, Kathleen. This time, you will do what I tell you.”

  He turned away to get something from his bureau.

  “Do what you tell me? I’m your wife, remember? I’m your partner, why don’t you tell me what you’re planning?”

  He stopped and turned, drawing himself up, his chest puffed out, his face turning red with anger. “I am your Captain. I give the orders. You will do as I say.”

  She was shocked into silence.

  Something was wrong here, she just knew it. Why wouldn’t he want her to watch his back? What was he doing that he didn’t want her to know about?