by Jane Graves
Dave sat up straight. “I assume I’m free to go?”
“Yes. But I suggest you leave by the back door. Don’t know how the press does it sometimes. They’re already here asking questions about this one.”
“What?”
“Hey, it’s interesting news. A woman flying for a humanitarian organization supposedly dies in a plane crash, only to show up alive at a San Antonio airport with a stash of illegal drugs? Doesn’t get much better than that.”
Oh, that was just great.
Dave knew every government agency had its informants who made a buck or two on the side by tipping off reporters to any big story that happened to come through. Only now, unbelievably, he was part of one of those big stories. It would be all over town in no time. Hell, what was he saying? With cable news, it could end up all over the freaking world.
“Of course,” the agent added, “your superiors will be notified of the detention, along with the fact that you’re a possible suspect in a counterfeiting case. What they choose to do to you in light of that is up to them.”
Dave pictured this going right up his chain of command all the way to the chief, his name being dragged through the mud. The very thought of that made him sick with humiliation.
He stood up, ready to get the hell out of there.
“One more thing.” The agent came to his feet and circled the table, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “Let me give you a little advice, DeMarco. Back away from her. As far and as fast as you can. Your attorney will be able to make a strong case for you not knowing Ms. Merrick’s true motive in this situation.” He paused. “Of course, if you’d like to go ahead and give me something I can use against her, anything she might have told you that could help us, I can virtually guarantee that you won’t be charged.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Lisa is innocent. Sooner or later you’re going to see that.”
The agent gave Dave a sarcastic little smile of indulgence. “To tell you the truth, I think you’re the one who needs to see things a little more clearly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” the agent said, “that I’m not sure you know her as well as you think you do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I might have cut her a little more slack. Maybe even been inclined to think there was a possibility she was telling the truth.” He paused. “Then we ran her priors.”
Dave felt a shiver of dread. “What?”
“Eleven years ago. She was convicted of cocaine possession.”
At four o’clock that afternoon, Sera parked her car in the lot behind Esmerelda’s, a tidy little bar and grill whose name was a holdover from three owners ago. The proprietor now was Ario Delmiro, a large man with a booming voice and a big heart who had owned the place for a year and a half but was probably going to lose it in a matter of months if he didn’t start collecting bar tabs. She hoped that didn’t happen, though, because he’d always been good to her, allowing her to slip away whenever one of her mothers-to-be went into labor.
She’d stayed close by Adam all day, monitoring his vital signs, becoming more hopeful the more alert he became. But she knew that his condition could turn around quickly if he developed any complications, and she was desperate to get him to a hospital as soon as possible. He still had a bullet in his chest. And what about his head wound? Was he as stable as he was trying to make her believe? Or was he a ticking time bomb waiting to explode?
I’ll stay in this room the rest of my life before I’ll let that kid die.
She knew Adam meant every word of that. But every moment he stayed in Santa Rios was another moment he could be discovered, so time was not on her side. She had to find Gabrio as quickly as possible and get both him and Adam out of here.
She went in through the kitchen door and grabbed an apron. Ario saw her and came over, wiping his hands on a dish towel.
“Sera! Thank God you’re back! Full house out there. I need you. Feeling better now?”
She’d felt bad lying to Ario about being sick so she could stay with Adam, especially since several of his other employees routinely feigned sickness for no other reason except that they didn’t feel like coming in.
“A little,” she said. “But I’m missing those tips, you know. Had to get myself back in here.”
She slid out the swinging door into the bar and immediately spotted Ivan sitting with a couple of the usual suspects— Enrique Flores and Juan Atilano. They were all good-for-nothing men who spent their afternoons and evenings drinking and playing cards, charging themselves up for late night mayhem. Unfortunately, she didn’t see Gabrio with them.
She edged up next to Gloria, one of the other waitresses, and told her she’d take over Ivan’s table. Gloria practically kissed her. The big tips they left rarely compensated for their sexual come-ons, and Gloria had clearly had enough of their wandering hands for one shift.
Sera went over to Ivan’s table with an offhand hello and an offer to bring them another round. Ivan gave her a protracted stare, shifting his eyes up and down, a lecherous smile seeping over his lips. He was one of those men who looked at a woman with one thing on his mind and one thing only. That little up-and-down glance was designed to intimidate her and at the same time indicate his considerable sexual prowess. Or so he thought.
“Where you been?” Ivan asked. “Haven’t seen you around here in a couple of days.”
She picked up the empty beer bottles from the table. “I’ve been sick.”
“Well,” he said, slinking his hand around the back of her thigh. “You’re looking pretty good now.”
Sera eased away from him, fighting the disgust that swelled inside her.
“Come on, now,” Ivan said, his voice low. “You’ll like what I’ve got to offer.”
“I’m a busy woman,” Sera said. “No time for fun, you know?”
Ivan took a sip of his beer. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
No. Sera knew exactly what she was missing. And she intended to keep on missing it.
She emptied an ashtray. “So where’s your kid brother? He’s usually here with you.”
“Funny thing. He’s been sick, too. Flu or something. Hasn’t left the house in a couple of days.”
He didn’t run. Thank God. “So he’s at home?”
“Yeah. He’s at home.”
Sera felt a surge of optimism. This was better than she could have hoped for. She knew Ivan’s pattern. He’d spend a couple more hours drinking and maybe playing a few hands of poker, then head out for whatever evening activities he and his buddies had planned. If she left right now, she could slip over to their house and talk to Gabrio before Ivan even thought about returning home.
“Hey, Ivan,” Enrique said. “She sure seems interested in your kid brother. Think maybe she’s looking for a real man?”
Enrique and Juan laughed, and Ivan glared at them.
“A woman throws you over for your baby brother,” Juan said, shaking his head. “Pitiful, man. That’s really pitiful.”
The men laughed again. Ivan sat back in his chair with a scowl, gripping his beer bottle with white-knuckled intensity. He slid his hand along the back of Sera’s thigh again, but this time his fingers were spread, holding her in a bruising grip.
“So what’s the deal?” Ivan said. “Do you like boys, or do you like men?”
“I was just concerned that Gabrio was sick. Are you taking care of him?”
“I told you. It’s just a bug. What’s there to do? Stand around and watch him throw up?”
“I suppose you’re right.” She extricated herself from Ivan’s grip. “I’ll bring you another round.”
She could feel Ivan’s gaze boring into her as she walked away, but she wouldn’t be around much longer to have to deal with him. After she brought them their drinks she slipped into the kitchen and found Ario.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, putting on a pained expression at the same time she w
as pulling off her apron. “I thought I could handle working today. But, Ario, I feel lousy. Really lousy. I’m afraid I’m still just too sick.”
His face fell. “No! Sera! We’re so busy! I need you out there!”
“I really am sorry,” she said, grabbing her purse and heading for the back door. “Really. I hate to leave you like this, but I’m sure I’ll be fine again by tomorrow. I’ll see you then, okay?”
She hated lying to him, but she had no choice. Over his protests, she slipped out the back door and headed for her car.
In minutes, she’d reached Gabrio’s house—a tiny rundown cinder-block structure in a neighborhood nice people would take great pains to avoid. She parked out front and stepped up to the porch.
She knocked. Waited.
Nothing.
She knocked again. Please be home. . . . Please. . . .
She listened for any movement inside the house. She heard nothing.
When she knocked for the third time, she came to the ominous realization that this wasn’t going to be as simple as she’d hoped. Gabrio’s car was here, but he wasn’t answering the door.
Peering through the window, she saw the interior of the dilapidated little house. The television was on. An ashtray on the coffee table held the butt of a cigarette, still smoldering. Gabrio was definitely home, but he was nowhere to be seen. Sera looked through the doorway into the kitchen, then craned her neck around and managed to see part of the way down the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Nothing.
She believed that Gabrio might be sick, but she doubted that the flu had anything to do with it. She remembered the crushing fear that had been in his eyes when he’d brought Adam to her—the look of a person who’s in the middle of something dark and hideous and doesn’t know how to get out of it. Any sickness he was experiencing right now was probably the result of guilt and horror all meshed together until it had incapacitated him. He wouldn’t answer the door because he was afraid Adam was dead. Or that he was still alive. Maybe both.
She banged on the door again. “Gabrio! Please answer the door! Please! I have to talk to you!”
She tried the door. It was locked. She knocked on it again, then took one more look through the window.
Gabrio was peering through the doorway leading to the hall.
As he came into the living room and walked slowly to the front door, her heart leapt with hope. The lock clicked, and he opened the door a crack. His face was tight and drawn, with dark circles under his eyes, and when he spoke his voice was coarse and raspy.
“What do you want?”
“Let me in, Gabrio. Please. I need to talk to you.”
He swallowed hard. “Adam’s dead, isn’t he?”
“No! He’s alive. For now, he’s okay. But I need to get him to a hospital in Monterrey. We want you to come with us.”
Gabrio blinked with surprise. “Come with you?”
“I know you’re afraid of your brother. You should be. Once it comes out that Adam is alive, he’ll hurt you. You have to get out of here.”
“No. My brother won’t hurt me.”
“When you brought Adam to me, you said he would.”
“No,” he said sharply. “I shouldn’t have said that. My brother would never hurt me. Never.”
“Then you’ve told him you saved Adam’s life?”
Gabrio’s jaw trembled. “N-no. Not yet.”
“If you’re so sure he’ll protect you, then why haven’t you told him?”
Tears gathered in his eyes. He tried to push the door closed, but she put her hand against it.
“Gabrio. Please listen to me. Adam refuses to leave unless you come with us.”
“No. It’s a trick of some kind. You want me to give my brother up for what he did. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“No! I just want you to leave with us! That’s all! We just want you to be safe!”
“I told you Ivan shot him, and now you want to make him pay for it. But I’m not telling anyone else what happened, no matter what! I’m not giving my brother up!”
Gabrio slammed the door and locked it. Sera pounded on it again. “Gabrio, please!”
“Go away!”
“Gabrio!”
She heard his footsteps fade away as he disappeared into the hall again. She turned and leaned against the door, frustration running wild inside her. She had no choice but to go home and tell Adam that she’d failed. And that meant that he would refuse to leave town and get medical attention, which meant he was still in danger.
This nightmare was never going to end.
Sera got into her car. Ten minutes later, she pulled up to her house and went inside. She heard the low hum of the television in her bedroom upstairs. She came into the room to find Adam propped up against the headboard, a look of hopeful expectation on his face.
He muted the television. “Did you talk to him?”
She came over and sat down on the bed next to him. “Yes. He refuses to come with us.”
Adam looked at her incredulously. “But he knows he might be killed as soon as I show myself!”
“He thinks we want him to come with us so we can force him to testify against his brother. And he refuses to do that.”
“Are you kidding? He ought to be telling the whole damned world what his brother did. And he ought to be running from him as fast as he can.”
“Adam, you’ve seen this before. I know you have. Kids always refuse to tell doctors what their abusive parents have done to them. All they want to do is go back home. It’s the only life they know, no matter how horrible it is. Gabrio is no different. No matter how much he knows in his heart that his brother will hurt him, he can’t admit it. And he can’t conceive of anyone wanting to help him, because nobody has ever given a damn about him before.”
Adam shook his head. “He’s so scared. The poor kid is so scared that he’s not thinking straight.”
“Yes. I know. I don’t want him hurt any more than you do, but right now he’s so lost and confused that we might never get through to him.”
“We have to think of another way.”
Sera sighed heavily. “There may not be another way.”
“God, Sera, how in the hell did this happen? He’s going to die, and I can’t do anything about it.”
Sera was silent. She had no idea what to say.
Adam nodded toward the television. “I was watching the news. You’ll be pleased to know my memorial service is scheduled for Thursday morning in San Antonio.” A look of anguish crossed his face. “My sister. I wish I could tell her I’m alive, but I don’t dare. Not yet. God, I can’t even imagine how she feels right now.”
She slid her hand over his arm. “Adam, I don’t want Gabrio hurt any more than you do, but the time may come, very soon, when you’ll have to think about leaving him behind.”
“I can’t.”
“You may not have a choice.”
Adam shook his head in frustration. Then his gaze drifted toward the television, and his eyes suddenly widened. “Sera. Look.”
She turned, shocked to see a familiar face on the screen.
Lisa Merrick.
Adam fumbled for the remote and turned up the sound.
“. . . pilot for a humanitarian organization who was presumed to have died in a plane crash in central Mexico two days ago surfaced alive and well today, only to be arrested in San Antonio on suspicion of drug smuggling. . . .”
Adam stared at the screen with an expression of shocked disbelief. “My God. It’s Lisa. She’s alive.”
chapter fifteen
By the time Lisa arrived at her apartment, it was nearly five o’clock. She’d never spent a more horrendous three hours in her entire life—three long, unbearable hours filled with accusations she’d had to endure, anger she’d had to swallow, and anxiety she’d felt at the thought that Dave was being questioned at the same time she was, with the same accusations being thrown at him as were being thrown at her.
And Robert Doug
las was the one who’d tipped off the customs agents.
The very idea that he’d have the audacity to turn the tables on them so completely flabbergasted her. But it hadn’t taken long for her surprise to turn to anger. He may have won this battle, but somehow, someway, she was going to make certain he lost the war.
Right now, though, she had a king-size headache and her mind felt muddled, just as it had felt for the past three hours. Out of desperation that Dave not be dragged down with her, she’d told those agents over and over that he had nothing to do with it, that she alone had knowledge of the drugs in her backpack. But they clearly didn’t believe her. And it was probably because Dave was in there telling the truth. But then, had she really expected him to do anything else?
They told her he was going to be released, just as she was, but she was terrified to see him. She couldn’t bear the look that was sure to be on his face, the one that said, All I did was try to help you, and this is what I get?
If he was smart, he was on his way to San Antonio International right now and before the day was out he’d be back in Tolosa where he belonged. She wished she’d never called him that night, wished he’d never come to Santa Rios, wished she was still sitting at that abandoned mining camp, injured and delirious, even if it meant dying there. Anything but having him facing a prison sentence because of her.
She’d taken a cab from the airport to Blue Diamond Aviation, where she’d managed to pick up her car without running into anyone she knew. They’d hear soon enough that she was alive. They’d also hear she’d been detained on drug charges, and she certainly didn’t want to talk to anyone about that.
She strode up the sidewalk leading to her apartment, and as she approached her front door she turned and saw somebody sitting on the porch railing. Her heart skipped wildly.
Dave.
He just sat there, his arms folded and his eyes narrowed, his angry expression sending an avalanche of anxiety plundering through her. He rose slowly. She started to unlock her apartment door, then thought better of it. She turned and faced him, her back to the door.
