“You are responsible now. I will talk to Rosa. She will help you. But I must warn you, Rosa knows nothing in the kitchen.”
“Sí, Doña Margarita.” Laura was stunned. By the slap, by her own automatic response to confront the man. By Margarita Ruiz and what she’d done. “Gracias.”
“Thank me by making this work. Do not make me regret firing him.” She stepped onto the patio, walked to one of the tables, and rearranged a flower in a vase.
With her defense, Margarita Ruiz had given Laura the opportunity she needed to move about more freely. Curious, she asked, “Why did you do it, Doña Margarita?”
Margarita looked up, her eyes solemn, a sad smile on her scarlet lips. “Someone once told me that a man must never hurt a woman.”
***
Rosa had absolutely no kitchen sense. The woman alternately stood in one corner, wringing her hands, got in the way of the servers, or gave orders that only confused an already confusing situation. Laura finally put her in charge of counting. Counting the number of plates being taken to the guests, the number of wine bottles being dispensed. Anything with numbers made Rosa feel safe and kept her out of everyone’s way.
That didn’t mean there wasn’t chaos. There was. But somehow, Laura managed as each helper found his or her strength, so that by the time dessert was being served, all moved smoothly. She could finally find a way to leave and search for Tony. With the guests satisfied and enjoying fresh fruit, Pablo’s signature rum torte and coffee, she opened the swinging door a crack and peeked into the living room hoping to catch a glimpse of Gonzalez, out of the office.
Mark stood silent vigil in the foyer.
“Es muy guapo.”
Laura turned, hand on her chest, as she drew in a startled breath and let the door swing shut, closing her in the kitchen again.
“Señorita Rosa,” Laura said to the woman who stood beside her.
“Your husband. He is very handsome. How long have you been married?”
What had Mark said to the Ruizes last night? Nothing about the length of their marriage came to mind. “Four years.” That seemed reasonable.
“I was married,” Rosa said.
Was married. Laura wasn’t sure she should ask.
“My husband drowned at Punta Azul,” Rosa continued. “Do you know the place?”
“South of Santiago, where the surfing competition is held.”
“Yes. He loved the water, loved the wildness of it.” A small smile took all the harshness from her face. “He was not as tall as your man, his hair was dark, but his build... The shoulders, the strength. They were the same as those of your husband.”
“I am sorry,” Laura said, meaning it.
“Do you have children?” Rosa asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s good. I never had children. We were only married for three months. Doña Margarita asked me years ago why I didn’t marry again when I had the chance. I had no answer. I work hard for Doña Margarita. I care for my family when I’m needed. All those things are important. Now I’m forty-eight years old and I know.”
Laura waited as Rosa walked back to her corner chair and sat.
“I saw you,” she said. “When your husband kissed you earlier. He cannot help himself. That is when I knew the answer to Doña Margarita’s question. I thought I never wanted another man because Jaime was the only one who wanted me, but another man did. He looked at me as your husband looks at you, but I was too afraid of suffering again, so I refused.” A tear glistened in the older woman’s eye.
“Laurita,” one of Pablo’s male assistants called to her. “I will again offer coffee ¿no?”
“Sí, por favor,” she replied.
“I will tell Doña Margarita how hard you have worked,” Rosa said, “but she’ll know because everything went so well. Don’t be surprised if she offers you a permanent job.”
“A job?”
“In the city.”
But it didn’t matter because when she found Tony, she would leave and they would never see this place again. Still, she had to play along. “She would take me with her?”
“There are plans for much entertaining. I’ll tell her of your work, but there’s no need. She sees the results. You are someone she can count on.”
“I did not cook the meal, Señora Rosa.”
“I know what happened. There are many chefs to choose from in the city. When the servers begin clearing the tables, there will be nothing here even I cannot handle,” she said with an uncharacteristic laugh. “Take your husband something to drink. Gonzalez has buried himself in Don Ernesto’s office. He won’t know if you spend a few minutes with your man. Life can hold many surprises. You must take advantage of every opportunity.”
***
Mark paced from the front door to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the patio and quickly studied the guests again before moving back to the door. He let out a long breath. Thank God there had been no uninvited guests. He didn’t recognize anyone in attendance. In order to figure out why Ruiz had these people here, he needed the connections, what they represented.
Ruiz acted the perfect host, tending to his guests both individually and in groups as his wife did the same with the women. Mark observed the dynamics playing out to see who among those in attendance Ruiz would favor with the gift of entry into his inner sanctum. Maybe he hadn’t sorted out exactly who was worthy. Maybe there was more each had to do, a loyalty test like the one he had yet to pass, one that required him to kill Victor Fuentes.
In a country with a history of the caudillo, the strong man, it was hard to conduct investigations free of bribery and threats. And worse. The Interior Ministry, scrupulously legal under Laura’s father, had set out to find the source of the weapons Primero de Mayo was buying. That led him to Ruiz, information he shared with his intelligence counterparts in Europe and the States, and brought Mark back to the country. From what he’d learned, Fuentes, hired by Ruiz as a pilot, had been the San Matean intelligence agency’s best hope to get the goods on the ex-general.
What had been done to Fuentes sickened Mark. He didn’t know how the hell he could save the man, but he would. He had to.
But first he had to find Laura’s son. And he needed a plan ASAP, or someone would pay a heavy price. Right now, that someone was going to be Fuentes.
If only Gonzalez would come out of the damn office. One of the maids had taken the man a plate of food earlier, so unless he left the room, there would be no chance to get in there. If Mark were by himself, he would do something to get things rolling. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t risk Laura. And her son. And now, Fuentes.
The warring goals between what he’d been sent to do and what he had to do, taunted him. He was willing to take whatever punishment Langley doled out for taking his focus off his mission, but Ruiz was dirty. He had to be stopped. The only way to do that was to find concrete proof of the ex-general’s treachery.
Something other than a dead Victor Fuentes. Which Mark well knew would make no difference in the larger scheme of things. Victor Fuentes was as expendable as he was.
***
Laura paused at the gilt-edged mirror in the dining room on her way to take Mark a drink as Rosa had suggested. Reaching up to straighten her hair, she stopped. She hadn’t cared about her appearance in so long. For her job as the director of a well-known children’s charity, coordinating between it and local hospitals in the greater Washington metropolitan area, she applied makeup, combed her hair, chose clothes. What effort she made was only because it was necessary. So, why now, when her looks shouldn’t matter, did she suddenly care? When caring was dangerous.
So she and Mark had kissed. A kiss meant nothing. She hadn’t lived like a nun, but she’d learned that she didn’t like casual dating. Casual was awkward, meant leaving Tony with a sitter and answering questions her son asked about where she’d been.
She glanced out at the guests on the patio then toward the foyer where Mark stood. So far, she’d stayed
in the kitchen, afraid to be seen and recognized by anyone.
Mark turned to look at her. No, when he turned, the entirety of his attention was fixed on her.
She almost backed away and closed the door to avoid him.
Instead, with one more glance toward the patio where the guests were chatting, she ducked her head and walked across the highly polished wooden floor of the dining room toward Mark.
“Tony’s not in the garage or the bunkhouse,” he said. “Gonzalez hasn’t left the office.”
“That leaves the cottages,” she replied.
“Rough evening?” His gaze took in the horribly rumpled uniform and the stained, damp apron.
“Rougher than you think.” She held out the glass. “I brought you some water.”
“Thanks.” He took it and drank deeply.
She watched, mesmerized by the sight of his mouth and strong throat, by the memory of the feel of his lips on hers.
“How did you get—” Por Dios, what was wrong with her? She hadn’t meant to speak aloud.
He finished the water and looked down at her. “How did I get what?”
“The scar,” she said. When he only blinked, but didn’t say anything, she finished. “On your lip.”
“Oh, that,” he said with a smile. “I was a clumsy kid.”
He wasn’t clumsy now. He was graceful, controlled. Laura had seen him. Then she realized what his answer meant. It was an evasion. Because his scars were none of her business. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything. Would never be.
She turned her attention to the patio and the guests. “Do you have a list of the guests with you?”
“No. Gonzalez was going to tell me if someone showed up uninvited. I’m wired.” He pointed to his ear piece.
“Can he hear you?”
“No. Only if I press this.” He pointed at a small electronic piece on his lapel. “Do you recognize anyone?”
She looked at the people on the patio. “The two men on the right of Ruiz are military. I think Escobar, the bald one, is a colonel in the army. The other one is an officer in the navy, but I don’t know his rank. The youngest man here, sitting across from Ruiz, is married to the president’s youngest daughter.”
“If Ruiz and President Valdivia aren’t friends, what’s he doing here?”
“He’s an opportunist. His wife isn’t here. He married Valdivia’s daughter believing the president would give him an important position. Valdivia didn’t. If I had to guess, I would say he’s here as a betrayal of his father-in-law.”
“Does he know anything that could hurt Valdivia?”
“Probably not, but because he’s married to the youngest daughter, his alliance with Ruiz will prove an embarrassment.”
“Anyone else?”
“Let me look.” She tiptoed to peer outside and studied those guests whose faces she could see. One man turned. She jerked back immediately.
“You know someone?”
“The man sitting next to Margarita,” she said, her voice shaky. “He works for the Interior Ministry. He has, or had, a lot of contact with my father.”
“He knows you?”
“Maybe. I remember meeting him.”
Mark’s lips compressed. He looked down at her, then out to the patio. “This is too risky. As soon as you can, get out of here. I’ll check the buildings.”
“No. Ruiz and Gonzalez will miss you.”
“Meet me where I hid our bags. I’ll search.”
She shook her head. “You know it’s safer for me to.”
“No,” he said softly. “If anyone sees you...”
He reached up and touched her cheek.
“This bruise. What happened?” he asked, his voice low and jagged.
She hadn’t noticed when she’d looked in the mirror, but now reached up to her cheek and looked at him. There was no lover-like expression there. “It’s nothing.”
“Did Ruiz—”
“No!” She took a breath. “No. It was Pablo. Margarita Ruiz fired him.”
He took her hand in his. “For hitting you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I don’t know why. It’s not the sort of thing I would expect from her.”
His fingers tightened on hers. She had to pull away, but he held her mesmerized, standing so close, his head bent toward her slightly, focused on her lips. All it would take was one small step forward and she’d be in his arms.
“Laurita,” came the whispered call from behind her.
Mark released her hand as she spun around.
“Come quickly,” Rosa gestured. “Don Ernesto has asked that you serve coffee in his office to a few men who will stay behind!”
Laura stared at Rosa, unable to think.
“Come quickly!” Rosa repeated, then disappeared behind the kitchen door.
“You can’t do this,” Mark said. “If the man from the Interior Ministry recognizes you—no. It’s too dangerous. Leave. Meet me where I put our things.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I find Tony. I’ll keep my face down, he won’t recognize me.”
“And if he does?” His eyes, only moments ago warm and tender, challenged her.
“Then you’ll find my son.”
***
Laura’s words slammed through Mark. She’d turned and walked into the kitchen before he could come up with a response.
At that moment, Ruiz led a handful of men, including the one who could recognize her, across the patio to the office entrance. These must be the bastards who’d passed Ruiz’s loyalty test.
Laura couldn’t do this. There had to be another way. A way to have someone else serve the men as well as salvage their opportunity to look for Tony.
Ruiz and company disappeared into the office and closed the door. Moments later, Gonzalez came out.
“I’ll take your position for now.” Gonzalez said.
Shit! If he left as ordered, he’d be too far from the office to help Laura when she served the men. He hesitated.
“Go.” Gonzalez held out his hand. “Give me your mic.”
With no options, he gave Gonzalez the mic and headed for the kitchen.
The earlier confusion had died down. The restaurant staff and the household servants sat outside the kitchen in the servant’s area, eating. Stacks of dishes lay in organized piles waiting to be washed. Laura stood beside Rosa arranging a silver coffee service on an intricately worked silver tray.
“Coffee, no dessert,” Rosa said.
“Sí, I know.” Laura replied. “Doña Margarita explained.”
“Then why are you so nervous?”
“I am not ner—”
“My wife knows I don’t want her to serve Don Ernesto,” Mark said from behind, making sure his voice didn’t carry to the servants.
Laura spun around, her eyes wide.
“Why is this?” Rosa demanded.
“He didn’t show my wife the respect she is due,” Mark said.
Rosa turned toward Laura. “Is this true?”
“It’s not important,” she replied.
Rosa’s eyes narrowed. The woman had to know about Ruiz’s habits.
“Doña Margarita will not mind if I serve,” Rosa said.
“No,” Mark said. “I’ll do it. She’s my wife. You shouldn’t suffer the consequences of Don Ernesto’s displeasure.”
Rosa looked from him back to Laura. “I’ll tell Doña Margarita you are ill, from all the work. She will understand. Go now. Go to the servant’s quarters, where you changed. Stay there for a half hour. That will be your break. Take your meal. No one will disturb you.”
“Do as she says, amor,” Mark said. “It’s for the best.”
She stared back at him for an endless moment, then nodded. Relief rushed through him.
Rosa opened the door for him. He reached for the tray.
Laura placed her hand on his arm. “Juan. Con cuidado.” Be careful. “You must pour the coffee, then hold the tray for each man to take his cup. Let them choose to u
se cream and sugar.”
He nodded, and she came up on tiptoes to reach him, pressing her cheek to his. “Turn off the surveillance monitor,” she whispered.
Holy shit. He flinched at her words. But it was the perfect way to handle the search.
He mentally walked back into the office, remembering the position of the furniture, the monitor. “Wait for me to come back so you’ll know I was able to do it,” he whispered and felt her nod.
He lifted the tray, balancing it carefully so the five cups and saucers and the service pieces didn’t shift.
Gonzalez stood guard by the office door. “Your wife was to serve. Why are you here?”
“She’s not well.”
“Make it quick. Don Ernesto wants privacy.”
Four men sat in Ruiz’s office with him, smoking cigars. Ruiz looked up as Mark entered.
“I asked that your wife serve.”
“She isn’t well, Don Ernesto. She’s resting.”
Displeasure crossed Ruiz’s features, but he pointed at the credenza. “Put the tray there.”
Mark walked across the room, careful to note the position of each man in the room. They sat on the leather chairs and couch. The monitor on the credenza faced the wall, away from the men. Gonzalez must have left it that way. A lucky break.
Mark put the tray down beside the monitor. Taking his time, he took the coffee pot and slowly began pouring.
He glanced down to make sure he hadn’t spilled anything, then shifted his attention. The monitor’s on/off switch lay on the side. He would have to block the men’s view as he reached for it. He repositioned himself, bent toward the tray again and extended his right arm. He could hear no telltale motor sound, but powering off the screen could result in a ping or some other sound.
He cleared his throat as he depressed the switch. The monitor blacked out. He glanced at the men. No one paid any attention to him. He lifted the tray.
All he had to do was serve the men, leave, and tell Laura she could search the cottages.
And hope no one noticed the monitor was off.
Or caught Laura.
Chapter Seven
Laura took several deep breaths before peeking around the corner of the main house toward the cottages. Mark had followed her out of the kitchen and asked her again to let him search, but Rosa had called him back.
Whatever it Takes (Shadow Heroes Book 4) Page 8
