by Alice Sharpe
Hannah slid a glance at Jack, who looked ready to jump out of his skin. “Do you think you could take us all the way to Highland Hills?” she asked.
“What about your car?” the man said, glancing over his shoulder. “And don’t you need to see a doctor?”
“No, no doctor. We’re in a terrible hurry to get to Highland Hills, we’ll worry about the car tomorrow.” There were a lot of things Hannah would worry about tomorrow such as what she’d set in motion when she’d confessed Jack was Aubrielle’s father. Just look at the way he avoided looking at her.
“We could do that,” the woman said, tucking curly gray hair behind her ears. She had a round, pleasant face, full of kindness. “It’s right on the way to our son’s place.”
“You can just let us off in town and we could get a cab,” Jack said.
“Don’t be silly,” the man called. “We’ll take you where you need to go. No problem.”
HANNAH HAD NEVER BEEN TO Santi Correa’s house before, but she’d forwarded enough mail the last few months to have the address down pat. The Franklins drove them right up to the gated driveway where Jack asked they hang around for a few minutes.
“Call Santi on the intercom,” he coached, “and make sure Hugo didn’t get here before us.”
“The last person in the world Hugo would come to after what he’s done is his father.”
“Both the shotgun and rifle were in the truck when your car slid into the river. We’re unarmed. Humor me.”
Holding Aubrielle, Hannah punched the call button on the intercom. Santi responded at once. “You’re here at last,” he said, relief in his voice. “I was getting worried.”
“I’m sorry we’re late,” Hannah said. Jack had pointed out the camera atop the gate and had stepped into the shadows before she initiated the call. She added, “Will we have complete privacy?”
He chuckled. “It’s almost midnight, sweetheart. My wife is asleep, the staff have left for the day. Where’s your car?”
“I’ll explain. Will you let us in?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” The latch on a pedestrian gate next to the driveway clicked on as lights illuminated a path.
They waved the Franklins off with their profuse thanks and started down the path. The bruises Hannah had acquired on her trip down the river took a backseat to her nerves. The situation wasn’t helped when Jack, leaning close to whisper, said, “Hugo could still show up, things could take a bad turn. Stay alert.”
Chapter Fifteen
Santi answered the door.
“Hannah, my dear girl,” he said, opening the door wide. White brows arched over dark eyes as his gaze moved on to Jack, then narrowed as though trying to place him.
“This is my friend, Jack Starling,” Hannah said. “You met him a year ago in Tierra Montañosa.”
Jack held out a hand and Santi shook it, his grip stronger than Jack had expected given what Hannah had said about his frail condition. He was getting older, sure, his shoulders more slumped, his hair whiter, but there was still fire in the old guy’s eyes.
“Dias bueno, mi amigo,” Santi said. “What miracle is this? We all thought you had perished in the jungle.”
“I was lucky, sir,” Jack said. “But tonight we come with some alarming news that concerns Tierra Montañosa.”
“Come inside, come inside,” Santi said, closing the door behind them. “Please, if you don’t mind my saying so, you both look as though you’ve had a rough trip. Come into the den, let me make you a drink.” He led the way into a lofty room containing a glass desk at one end and a gathering of chairs at the other, a majestic marble fireplace a focal point for all. Santi carefully closed the tall gilt doors isolating the room from the rest of the house. “I haven’t met your baby yet, Hannah,” he said with a wistful smile. “Her name is Aubrielle, isn’t that right?”
Hannah lowered the baby from her shoulder to show Santi Abby’s face. Santi said, “She’s as lovely as her mother. May I hold her?”
Hannah paused for a second and then said, “Of course.”
“Let me sit in this chair. I’m an old man. I wouldn’t want to drop her.” Hannah gently placed the bundled baby in his lap.
He smiled warmly. “Jack, will you do the honors? I’ll have whiskey and water.”
“I’ll have the same,” Hannah said softly.
Jack poured straight whiskey for himself and handed out the drinks. Choosing a chair across from Santi, he wondered where they should start. With an explanation, with the tape?
Hannah looked at him and then at her hands and then at Santi before saying, “We’ve come to talk to you about Hugo.”
“Hugo? What does Hugo have to do with Tierra Montañosa? The schools there are open, the foundation is working on schools in Colombia now.”
“But it is about the schools,” Hannah said, casting Jack a pleading look. “And the ambush and the GTM—”
“Sir, do you have an audio tape player?” Jack interrupted. “It may save a lot of time.”
Santi looked surprised by the request, then shrugged indulgently as though humoring him. “In the cabinet. It’s part of an old system I like too much to replace.” He gestured at the large oak armoire against the wall. Jack dug in Hannah’s diaper bag and withdrew David’s tape. After fiddling with the machine, David’s voice filled the room. “April 30, 11:20 a.m., Correa and Hurtado, Tierra Montañosa border, aboard Bell charter N480EX.”
“What is this?” Santi snapped, leaning forward over Aubrielle. “Who is this man Hurtado?”
“Just listen,” Jack said.
The Spanish conversation caught Santi’s attention. Cradling Abby, he leaned forward and listened. Once again, Jack heard Correa and Hurtado make plans to drug Jack, make plans for the ambush and the bogus press releases intended to mislead everyone into thinking they were dealing with the GTM.
“You were drugged?” Santi said when it finally wound down.
“Yes,” Jack said, crossing to turn off Beethoven’s ninth, which had resumed playing. “That’s why I wasn’t in the lead car. I don’t think I was supposed to show up at all, but in the end I did and was captured.”
“But you weren’t killed. They said they would kill anyone the insurance company wouldn’t ransom.”
“Yes, but I think they decided they could turn me into one of them. They were training marksmen and I have skills in that area. Hugo must have known about me. I guess anyone at Staar would have had access to my résumé.”
Santi got to his feet, Abby held gently in his arms. He walked to his desk and touched the phone. Jack was relieved he was going into action so promptly, but then Santi put the phone down and took a few steps toward the doors, paused, turned and looked back at them. “You are accusing my son of murder. Worse, terrorism.”
“And that’s not all,” Jack said. “Don’t forget the end, don’t forget they mentioned something about the thirtieth anniversary.”
“You think they meant the Founder’s Day open house.”
“What else?”
“Hmm—”
“Listen, I saw them practicing down there, setting up mock attacks. I don’t know how they’d get here and how they could disappear in a community as small as Fort Bragg, but they must have a plan and your son must be facilitating it. For all we know there could be others on the staff—”
“This is sounding slightly insane, you know that,” Santi said. His voice sounded stronger, the set of his shoulders more square.
“Maybe I am,” Jack said, “But you don’t know what’s been going on during your absence, especially the last few days.”
Santi brushed that aside. “Who else knows of this tape?” Santi asked.
“Just your son,” Hannah said. “The man who made it was David Lengell and as you know, he died right afterward. He was blackmailing Hugo.”
Santi shook his white head.
“I know this is a lot to swallow all at once,” Hannah said. “We can explain more later. For now, please, just cancel Su
nday’s events. You’re the only one with the necessary power to cut through the red tape. Your son tried to kill us tonight. He needs to be stopped.”
A knock on the door caused Santi to turn on his heels. He walked to the door and opened one slender panel. Hugo Correa entered, visibly shaken when he got a good look at his father’s visitors.
“Ah, Hugo, yes, thank you for answering my summons. We have guests.”
Hugo looked terrible, worse, if possible, than he had in the guerilla camp months before. There was a wild abandon evident in his eyes, salt-and-pepper hair flopped over his forehead, and his round face had an unhealthy sheen. As he limped into the room, his eyes burned with malice directed at Hannah. Even his clothes looked like rejects from a secondhand store, though the tailored gray suit had probably cost a bundle.
So Santi had lied about his son not being here. Maybe he’d been trying to protect him. Jack could understand the impulse, but the time had come and gone for looking the other way. When he touched the phone, he must have pushed a button alerting Hugo and now here they all were. Damn.
Hannah seemed to shrink in her chair. Her gaze went to Santi before dropping to her baby whom Santi still held.
“You,” Hugo said, pointing a shaky finger at Hannah. “Why couldn’t you just give me the tape?”
“Why should I?” she said with a defiant tilt of her chin. “You’ve been terrorizing me. You could have killed my baby.” She slid Jack a glance as though realizing she’d just remembered telling him Abby was his child, as well.
“What does what happened ten years ago matter now? Why would you try to ruin the foundation because of that? How much money—”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Like hell you don’t.”
“What are you talking about?” Jack said, getting to his feet, fists balled at his sides. Santi might be willing to stand there and watch, but Jack wasn’t.
“You’ve been blackmailing my father,” Hugo said, his gaze never straying from Hannah. “You’ve been bleeding him dry and then even though he paid you, you threatened to go public. Did you kill Fran, too? Did she find out about you?”
“Okay, you’ve completely lost me,” Hannah said. “I have never blackmailed anybody.”
“You deny you sent me an e-mail this afternoon? And one to my father?” Hugo demanded as Santi recrossed the room, coming to a stop in front of the big marble fireplace where a fire blazed in the grate.
“No, I don’t deny it but that was just to flush you out because you took my baby and threatened to kill her and my grandmother—”
“I never,” he said, stepping back, hand at his throat. His eyes were suddenly as confused as Hannah’s.
“You ran us off the road tonight,” Jack said.
“Yes, yes, I was crazy trying to keep you from going to the newspapers with the sex tape of my father and that lobbyist. I knew you were going to give a press conference that would start a state investigation. He had no idea that woman was using him, getting him into compromising situations. I shouldn’t have pulled a gun in the car park, either, I admit that. I was frantic.”
“You almost killed Hannah and Abby,” Jack said through clenched teeth.
Hannah said, “Wait a second. I don’t know anything about a sex tape. You broke into my home, you bombed my car, you plotted with terrorists to kill your own employees—”
Now it was Hugo’s turn to throw up his hands. “You lie,” he said. “I never did any of those things. I hired a private eye, but he insisted he wouldn’t break any laws. All he did was keep track of your movements.”
“Are you saying you didn’t plot the ambush with a man named Hurtado, that you didn’t scheme to form some kind of bogus GTM group, that you didn’t kill David and Fran or plan some kind of massacre for the open house—”
Hugo’s mouth literally dropped open. “What about the open house?”
“There’s a plan to sabotage it and blame it on terrorists,” she said. “As if you didn’t know.”
“They’re coming here? That’s nuts. If they wanted to do something like that, they’d attack their own schools. The foundation schools are having festivities, too, lots of community leaders and government officials. A lot easier to create chaos close to home than here. What would be the point? How could they all even get into the States?”
A deep silence fell over the room and Jack, who had been allowing his emotions to get the better of him, finally took a second to use his brain.
Hurtado and Correa.
Which Correa?
He looked at Santi, who was holding Abby out in front of him. Her blanket had fallen away and she lay in his hands, on her back, sound asleep, tiny and so fragile you could almost see her pulse throb in her temple.
His child. His future. Jack took a step.
“That’s enough,” Santi said.
Hannah rose in one fluid motion as though she sensed the shift in the air just as Jack had.
“Isn’t it amazing how delicate a baby is,” Santi said, staring at Abby. “Any child, really. Not just babies. Any child. And we lose so many of them.”
“Mr. Correa?” Hannah said, advancing slowly. “I’d like my baby back.”
He glanced at her. “Stay there, my dear. You have it all wrong. My son doesn’t have the guts to do what you’ve accused him of doing. It’s amazing to me he had the nerve to run you off the road tonight. Maybe there’s hope for him, after all.”
“I don’t understand,” Hannah said.
Jack inched forward a little, and spoke. “It wasn’t Hugo on the tape, it was Santi. I couldn’t tell their voices apart because the sound quality was so poor.”
“What tape?” Hugo said. “The sex tape?”
“There probably is no sex tape,” Jack said. “Your father has been using you, Hugo. He sold you down the creek. The tape he wanted was a recording made in Tierra Montañosa by David Lengell. So, Santi, where is Mitch Reynolds? You hired him to kill David after David extorted the first fifty thousand. Then Mitch started terrorizing Hannah because Fran took over where David left off and blamed it on Hannah. Did Mitch kill Fran for you, too?”
Santi shrugged. “She got greedy and stupid and revealed her identity. Hannah, I tried to spare. She was a mother, after all. But Fran…” He shook his head in distaste and added, “After Mitch Reynolds took care of that meddlesome private investigator who was always showing up at the wrong time, I thought it wise he take an extended vacation.”
“I don’t understand,” Hugo said. “Why are they saying these things about you, Dad?”
Jack, staring at Santi, who still had total control over Abby, made a leap. “It’s the schools. That’s what the thirtieth anniversary remarks pertained to. It’s not the foundation that’s the target, it’s one of the schools, just as you suggested, Hugo.”
“Very good,” Santi said with a smile. “But you think too small.”
“It’s all of the schools.”
“Just those in Tierra Montañosa.”
“But why would you fund a group pretending to be the GTM?” Hugo asked. It appeared he was fighting the depth of his father’s depravity, circling it like a wary dog, poking at it. “Why would you destroy what you’ve spent your life and most of mine creating? Those schools are beautiful.”
“The schools are buildings,” Santi said. “I’m not interested in the buildings.”
Jack thought of the mock attacks he’d witnessed. The snipers in the jungle picking off imaginary targets—visiting dignitaries brought to the schools to make speeches? He thought of the school bus he’d seen in camp one day. Many of the guerillas had boarded and left in it. He’d thought at the time it was troop movement, but now another conclusion demanded attention. Maybe it had been part of the setup. Maybe the guerillas would arrive in buses…
Beside him, Hannah took another step toward Santi. “Give me my baby,” she said firmly. Jack took the opportunity to move closer, as well. Santi pulled Abby back against h
is chest. The baby woke up with a squawk, close to crying.
“One more step and I drop her on the marble. Her head will split open like a ripe melon, Hannah. She is just one child, no more important than the hundreds like her who will die tomorrow.” Hannah froze.
“You’re going to kill the children,” Jack said, shocked.
“That’s not possible,” Hugo said, but the horror in his eyes suggested he was finally catching on.
“Year after year we build schools and the children come but eventually, the GTM or groups like them take the children away,” Santi said. “Girls and boys both are lured into the jungle to carry guns or work in the drug trade to finance the very terrorism the citizens are too apathetic to stop. It will never end.”
“So you created bogus rebels to do an unspeakable act of terrorism that will what? Galvanize the populace?” Jack asked.
“The mass slaughter of children, teachers and leaders with the GTM taking credit for it, flaunting it even, will outrage the population in a way the silent cries of the innocent does not. The people will finally demand their government crack down on the GTM and the drug trade that corrupts everything on every level. A few lives spent now will see many saved down the line.”
“This kind of thing never works,” Jack said. “Zealots like you all over the world try to force their views on people and it never works.”
“But I have right on my side,” Santi said. “This will go down in history as the day that started a new movement in Tierra Montañosa. No one will ever know I was behind it and that’s okay. It will be my true legacy.”
Hugo stepped closer to his father. “You arranged the ambush?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Santi said as though bored with the topic. “Me and Hurtado.”
If Jack had been armed, he could have taken Santi out in a single shot. The old man would never have known what hit him. The danger would be for Abby, of course. She was far too young to survive a fall to that unforgiving rock. As he wasn’t armed this was all academic, but his fingers still itched with the desire to pull a trigger and end this lunacy.
