“These are the cottages?” Mark pointed at the smallest of the buildings she’d drawn.
“Yes, at least that’s what I was told.” She pointed to one of the rectangular shapes. “This one is the bunk house. The other is the garage. I could have these backward. The workman I spoke with wasn’t clear.”
Sitting on the floor again, he began sketching on the back of another flyer, manipulating the cheap ball point pen in quick strokes. He drew a precise layout of the compound following what she’d attempted, then worked on a more elaborate plan of the interior of the main house as she explained what she’d been told. His finished product looked like a quick rendering of a real floor plan.
“Once all the guests arrive and are eating, I’ll search the compound.”
“You’ll be missed,” she said quickly. “I won’t.”
He stared at her for a moment, his mouth in a stern line.
“You know I’m right.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he reached inside his bag. “Can you shoot?” he asked, pulling out a black gun and loaded a magazine.
She’d never considered a gun. “If you’re trying to scare me—”
“I’m not. What we’re doing is dangerous. I want to know if you can shoot.”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“My family has a ranch in the south. There are snakes,” she said.
“I have two guns,” he continued. “Ruiz will expect me to carry. I’ll take this one,” he pointed. “But this one,” he said, lifting another black gun, “will be in my bag. There are several magazines and more ammunition. Ammo and magazines work with both guns. You pull this back,” he demonstrated with the empty gun, “to chamber a round once the magazine is in. We’ll hide our things before we go to Ruiz’s. I want to be sure you know where the bag is and how to use a gun, just in case.”
She looked up. “Just in case what?”
He checked the gun, then met her gaze. “Ruiz didn’t hire me on such short notice because he thinks I’m a great guy. He hired me because I’m expendable.”
“Expendable?”
“It means—”
“I know what it means,” she snapped. “My English is very good.”
He raised a brow. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be sensitive about my English. There have been several times when people have made up their minds about me because of the way I look—”
“The sultry Latina, rather than the blond bombshell.” A quick smile lit his eyes.
She fought back an automatic responding smile. Not the time. “But why would he kill you?”
“Let’s say it won’t be a great loss to him and a lot less inconvenient if I’m not around after this.”
“But he hired you.”
“He hired a man who’s not from San Mateo. The only person who’ll miss me is my ‘wife’ who will also be at this party. He’s doing it here in Puerto Escondido, not in the capital, and he’s trying to keep some people out. That tells me this isn’t something he wants to become public. I’ll be a witness who can identify all those in attendance.”
“Because you’re letting them in, matching names and faces.” They would kill him. Her chest tightened. He couldn’t do this. “I’ll tell them you’re sick.”
He stared again, the oddest expression on his face, then opened his mouth to say something.
“Or you had an accident.”
He shook his head. “No. If I don’t show, they’ll be suspicious. Even if you don’t, at this point, they’ll be suspicious.”
Mark had taken her father’s job of going after Ruiz, but now it involved more danger. Was he really prepared for the new risks? “There has to be another way,” she said.
“There’s not. I overplayed my hand when I did the outraged husband routine. Once Ruiz decided how he could use me, there was no going back.”
“But Tony’s kidnapping changes everything. It impacts how you’ll do your job for Ruiz and for my father.”
He put the gun back in its holster, then stuffed both into the duffle bag before looking at her again. “Everything impacts something or someone.” He looked down and arranged something inside the bag. “Sometimes in ways we can’t even imagine until it walks up out of the blue and slaps us across the face.”
Laura understood the unintended consequences to choices. She’d loved her husband, had accepted his proposal, despite the fact that he was an army officer, something that pleased her father but not her. If instead of accepting the dangers, she’d asked José Antonio to resign, he would be alive. But she hadn’t. And now her decision to come to San Mateo had placed her son in danger.
“That’s what I mean. I left Tony at my father’s because I thought he’d be safe—”
“Tony isn’t missing because of you. He’s missing because of Ruiz.” Mark zipped the duffle closed with a quick jerk and stood.
“Because of the choices I made, the ones my father made, Tony could be hurt.”
“Not because of you,” Mark corrected, his eyes darker than she’d seen them. “Don’t ever forget. This isn’t your fault.” His mouth settled into a stern line. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get your son back safely.”
Chapter Five
As they neared Ruiz’s compound, Laura realized she’d been too focused on Tony and how much to tell Mark to pay attention to the obvious. He had secrets—beyond his last name.
Despite his promise—more of a pledge—to help her, he’d looked… Distant, as if he were thinking of something or someone else. Her father’s man, whether agent or mercenary, was here for more than an assignment. Was it somehow personal? Maybe he’d lost someone, a close friend or family in a similar circumstance? That made him dangerous to her and Tony because if he had to choose between Tony and his own goals, which would he choose?
But it was too late to question or doubt. They stood before the wrought iron gate of the servant’s entrance to Ruiz’s house. No turning back now.
The compound sat a good way from the beach to avoid storms and high tides. Other homes, equally as big and ostentatious, lay scattered across the landscape, none too close to the other. Laura understood the rich. Their privacy was sacrosanct. And for Ruiz, this was a place he could hide the worst of his deeds.
She and Mark went in through the gate between the house and the garage. A long alley opened onto a small servant’s patio which led to the kitchen, the washroom and a servant’s bedroom and bath. She was finally here. She would finally find Tony. She looked around for any signs that a young boy might be around, even knowing Ruiz wouldn’t keep her son where he could be seen.
A middle-aged woman dressed in a navy blue skirt, matching navy blue cardigan and white blouse led them into the kitchen. She waved Laura toward a chair while she took Mark through a swinging door to the dining room.
Laura caught glimpses of the interior of the house as other servants opened and closed the door. Growing up, she’d seen plenty of wealthy homes, but nothing had prepared her for what she saw inside Ernesto Ruiz’s house.
It glittered. Literally. Chandeliers, gilt framed mirrors, sparkling marble floors, all competed to be the most outstanding feature of the house. What could have been a luxuriously attractive home with touches of warmth and color came across as cold and distancing. A display of wealth and power.
“I am Rosa Hernandez.” The woman who’d led Mark away came back into the kitchen. “The household staff answers to me. I have set aside special clothing for you. You will come with me.”
“I work for Carolina and will assist Pablo. This,” Laura indicated the black jeans and T-shirt with the restaurant’s logo on the front, “is what I wear when I help with the catering service.”
“That will not do,” Rosa Hernandez replied with what sounded like a sniff. “While you are here, you will represent Doña Margarita, as we all do. You will do as I say. Come, you will change.”
The woman took pride in the lady o
f the house. Her loyalty would make her watch Laura closely. There had to be a way to humanize their interactions, to make the woman less of a watchdog. If this continued, she would never get away to search the compound.
“La casa es bella,” Laura said, hoping to connect somehow with the stern Senorita Hernandez. “You are lucky to work in a beautiful house like this.”
Rosa had no reply.
“Have you worked here long?” Laura asked, determined to get some response. They walked across the small patio to the servant’s quarters.
Rosa glanced back at her, but kept walking. “I have been with Doña Margarita’s family for years.”
“But this house is new, is it not?”
“She also has a house in Ciudad San Mateo.”
“A house in the city?” Laura added breathless surprise to her question.
“Of course. Don Ernesto gave this house to Doña Margarita as a wedding gift.”
“It is beautiful,” Laura said. “Have they been married long?”
“Why do you ask, muchacha?” Rosa demanded, turning on her. “Do not think you can interest Don Ernesto. Doña Margarita deserves loyal—”
“No, Señorita Rosa, do not think such a thing of me,” Laura said quickly. The last thing she wanted was for this woman to think Laura was after Ernesto Ruiz. “My husband, he’s all I care about. I’m only here because I want to do a good job. I asked because Don Ernesto and Doña Margarita, they are like movie stars ¿no? Rich and beautiful.” She sighed, hoping she sounded dreamy and foolish. “They have everything they want. It’s a wonderful life.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s hard work to achieve what they have. Doña Margarita had to give up many things she wanted—” The older woman stopped herself, her expression one of guilt. “I am speaking out of turn.”
“I can tell you care about Doña Margarita. She is so beautiful. Don Ernesto is mature ¿no? But he is handsome.” Rich and powerful and murderously evil.
“Vaya, looks are nothing. Even you should know that, muchacha.”
“Is he unkind to her?” Laura asked in a horrified whisper.
“Do not ask such questions,” Rosa replied, the bite back in her tone.
They reached the servants’ quarters. Rosa opened the door to one room. Boxes lay stacked one on top of the other.
“You have many things, Señorita Rosa.”
“These are not my things. My room is in the main house. We are returning to the city this week. Doña Margarita did not want boxes in the house while the guests are here.”
Did that mean they were taking Tony back, too? Please, God, no. She had to find him here, now, or he’d disappear into the capital.
“If you leave, there will not be enough work here for me,” Laura said, emphasizing disappointment. “Does Doña Margarita need help in the city?”
“If you work well, she will notice. If she likes what she sees, she will take you with us.” Rosa picked up a gray dress from the single bed and frowned. “Lo siento.” I’m sorry. “It’s big.”
Laura took what turned out to be a servant’s uniform and held it up to herself. It wasn’t just big, it was enormous.
“This will not do.” Rosa spun around, jerked open a closet door and tugged at something. Turning back to Laura, she smiled, more a twitch of her lips, and held out something white. “This apron will make the waist tighter.”
The smile was the first hint of warmth in Rosa. Laura had to stay on the woman’s good side. “Gracias, Señorita Rosa. I will enjoy serving Doña Margarita.”
“The guests will arrive this afternoon. Pablo should be here now. You will help him in the kitchen until Don Ernesto or Doña Margarita call for you.”
“I am to help Pablo. Why would they call for me?”
“There are special guests. Don Ernesto may ask you to serve drinks.”
She could do that. She would handle whatever Ruiz tried. She hadn’t been prepared before. He deserved more than a slap, but she wouldn’t make another stupid mistake.
She’d crawl on her knees, beg—do anything—if it meant Tony could be safe.
***
“Raise your arms.”
Mark complied with what had to be the old tailor’s one hundredth command to twist or turn as the man adjusted and pinned the black jacket to fit. He hadn’t been put through anything like this since he’d left home. Well, left his father’s house. It had only been home because his sister was there. Being fitted for tuxes hadn’t fallen in line with his job description since he’d joined the army, then the agency. Good thing, too, since his goal had been to stay as far away as possible from anything that required wearing a tux ever again. Or mingling with just the right people. Things he hadn’t been able to avoid while growing up.
“Lower them,” the tailor said.
Mark did as he was told after loosening the tie and tugging at the shirt collar. All he needed was a chance to search the compound. He was sure Tony wasn’t in the house because he’d seen both floors and all the rooms except Ruiz’s office. If he could get into the office, he could tick it off his list and might be able to find something that told him if the boy was in one of the other buildings or ever had been. He might even find something that tied Ruiz to Primero de Mayo.
The tailor buttoned the jacket.
“Is the gun under his arm?” Gonzalez asked from the door way.
“It is well hidden ¿no?” the tailor replied.
That was the point of all this. Ruiz wanted him armed, but didn’t want his guests to see his new muscle packing heat.
“While you finish the jacket,” Gonzalez said, “he will come with me.”
So far, Gonzalez had managed to avoid talking directly to him. Obviously, he was not happy Ruiz had hired him.
“Vamos,” he ordered, as Mark removed the still-pinned tux jacket. Gonzalez led the way down the hall, his footfalls muffled by thick, cream carpet. Everything in the house screamed money. Gonzalez opened the door to Ruiz’s office.
An immense dark oak desk inlaid with bits of shell and carved with Inca symbols filled one side of the room. Behind it, a wide window overlooked the gated entrance with its circular drive. The ocean view lay on the other side of the house, so this was the perfect vantage point to see anyone driving up from the road. Leather chairs and a matching couch surrounded a glass topped coffee table.
A split-screen monitor on a credenza surveilled the gated entrance, the patio and beach, and maintained silent vigil of all the buildings in the compound. Six cameras were strategically placed to see anyone moving. No way to search the buildings and remain undetected unless the cameras or the monitor were off.
Gonzalez took a sheet of paper from the desk. “I’ll have the list of guests. You will stop anyone not on it.”
“Don Ernesto expects someone to come uninvited?” Mark turned the surveillance monitor toward himself as if only marginally interested.
Gonzalez looked annoyed at the question. “He told you this yesterday.”
“With this equipment, wouldn’t it be better for me to watch the monitor to be sure no one comes in another way?” Maybe he could be posted here. That would give him a chance to search the office for anything linking Ruiz to the terrorists or something to indicate what he’d done with Tony Iglesias.
“You’ll have an ear piece.” Gonzalez ignored the question. “I’ll watch the monitor. I’ll let you know who must be stopped. You will take this person to the garage. I will show you.”
Mark quickly scanned the six areas under surveillance, carefully noting the sweep of each camera. “Don Ernesto said no violence in the presence of his guests. How far should I go with any intruders when I take them to the garage?” he asked.
“Here.” Gonzalez again ignored the question. He held out an ear piece and miniature mic similar to ones Mark had worn in the past. Ruiz definitely had the resources to purchase top of the line equipment. “You should be familiar with this.”
“I am.”
“There’s also an interc
om.” Gonzalez pointed to the box on the wall. “It’s connected to the kitchen for convenience. If Don Ernesto needs food or drink, he uses it.”
Mark nodded.
“Vamos. I’ll show you the entrance gate. Then we’ll go to the garage.” Gonzalez led him out of the office. “You may be posted at the gate or perhaps at the front door.”
As they walked into the living room with its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the patio and pool, Mark saw Ruiz and his wife outside. The ocean lay a good hundred yards away.
Ruiz caught sight of them. “Diego, we must talk before Margarita and I dress for the evening.”
“Wait here,” Gonzalez ordered before walking to the patio through the French doors and closing them behind himself.
This was Mark’s chance to warn Laura about the surveillance system. He hurried across the dining room and pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen.
Chaos reigned inside. A heavyset older man, surely Pablo the chef given his white clothing, stood beside the stove barking orders to Laura and a teenaged girl. Two young men stood to one side, one pulled things from the refrigerator, the other chopped vegetables at a massive counter. No one noticed him so he watched for a few seconds before his gaze zeroed in on Laura.
They’d made her wear an enormous gray maid’s uniform. She gently patted the arm of the girl who looked ready to burst into tears.
“Leave her,” the chef said with a dismissive flick of his hand. “If she cannot move quickly, she is useless.”
The girl sniffed, looked at Laura and said something that made Laura nod.
“I’ll show her.” Laura took a knife and grabbed what looked like a mango from a cutting board.
Mark watched her, this woman of privilege, as she easily peeled then sliced the fruit and spoke softly to the young maid. Laura grew up with servants; it was the way of life among the moneyed class in San Mateo. But she knew how to handle herself as if she’d never had one, how to show compassion even given the fact that her son was missing.
Whatever it Takes (Shadow Heroes Book 4) Page 6
