by Irene Brand
Her eyes were pensive, and he took her hand. “Scared?”
“A little, but I’m excited, too, when I forget the reason we’re going. I’m fortunate that the guide for my first travel adventure is an experienced traveler.”
“We might have time for a little sight-seeing. Just depends on what we find out.”
After they finished the meal and left the restaurant, Laurel said, “I don’t have any luggage, so we should stop at the mall on our way home. It’s been years since I’ve stayed away from home at night, and I don’t have a suitcase. Debbie took all of hers.”
Micah suggested a medium-priced large suitcase and a matching carry-on case, both on wheels for easy mobility. They soon found what she needed at the mall.
Although the day had been strenuous, Laurel wasn’t able to sleep when she went to bed, knowing she was getting deeper and deeper in Micah’s debt. But since he loved her, she understood why it was important for him to find the truth about Jason’s death. It was comforting to have someone looking after her for a change. And although she missed Debbie, it was good to be carefree, able to go where she wanted to without considering others. Was that an un-Christian attitude? A selfish feeling? “God, forgive me if it’s wrong,” she prayed aloud. But God was understanding, and Laurel believed God agreed that, after being confined for years, she’d earned a little freedom.
Laurel phoned Pastor Jensen, telling him she was going away for a few days, and asked him to pray for her safety. He didn’t ask for details and she gave none. She also called the Howes to let them know that she was leaving.
“I’m going with Micah on a business trip, but we won’t be gone more than a week,” she said to Brenda. When there was a sudden silence at the other end of the phone, Laurel said defensively, “Everything is on the up-and-up, so don’t get any ideas.”
Brenda laughed. “You don’t have to justify your actions to me,” she said. “You’re over twenty-one, so I figure you can make your own decisions without my help. But Pete and I think you and Micah were made for each other. Don’t let him slip away from you.”
Brenda hung up softly before Laurel could think of a suitable retort.
Laurel felt obligated to tell Cousin Kevin something, and she was glad when he phoned the day before they were to leave to say that he would be out of town for a week. She thanked him for calling and felt justified in not mentioning her own trip. Hopefully, Micah and she would return before Kevin came home.
Chapter Thirteen
The passport arrived the day before they were to leave, and almost before she knew it, Laurel was standing in line at the Knoxville airport, nervous as a cat, but depending on Micah to tell her what to do. She showed her newly acquired passport for identification, checked her luggage and proceeded to the security checkpoint, hoping she hadn’t packed the wrong things in her luggage. Micah had given her specific instructions about the items she couldn’t carry on a plane. She’d followed his advice and she had no trouble. Once they’d both cleared security and were seated in the waiting room, Laurel sighed as she took a seat facing the runway.
Dropping his well-worn bag on the floor, Micah sat beside her and said softly, “I feel like somebody oughta be throwing rice at us.”
Laurel darted an angry, suspicious glance toward him. He threw up his hands as if to ward off a blow.
“Just kiddin’,” he said, and a quiver at the corner of his mouth alerted Laurel to the fact that he was needling her.
“I believe you say things just to make me mad,” she accused.
“Not really, but I’ll admit I do enjoy seeing your eyes blazing and that red hair crinkling as though you’re going to explode.”
She dropped her lashes, and two rosy spots brightened her cheeks. “I’m trying to control my temper.”
Immediately contrite, he laid his hand on her shoulder. “I know you are, and I shouldn’t tease you.”
“Don’t you ever get mad?” she asked.
“Yes, but I usually keep it inside and brood about it.”
“That could cause an ulcer,” she said worriedly. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“I don’t get mad very often, so don’t fret about it.”
“I should have known you were teasing about the rice, but my conscience hurts a little. The Bible tells us to shun all appearance of evil, and I wouldn’t want anyone to think we’re doing anything wrong.”
“I’ve been reading the Bible more this summer than I ever have before, and I ran across a verse recently. ‘If our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God and receive from Him anything we ask, because we obey His commands and do what pleases Him.’ No matter what my natural inclination might be, you can be assured that I’ll treat you as if you were one of my sisters from now until we get back to Oaklawn.”
“I trust you, or I wouldn’t have agreed to this trip, but I’ve been a little apprehensive about what could happen. I’m glad we brought this out in the open.”
“I’ve arranged for adjoining rooms, but not connecting ones. If you should need me at night, you can call my room, and I can be with you right away.”
“I’m a little worried about not being able to speak Spanish if we get separated.”
“The only time you’ll be out of my sight is when we’re in our rooms at night. And in the larger hotels, most of the staff will speak English. You’ll be all right.”
Micah had asked for a window seat and an aisle seat, and he suggested that Laurel sit by the window. He quietly instructed her on fastening her seatbelt, and he stored their carry-on bags in the overhead compartment. Laurel was embarrassed that a woman of her age knew so little about matters that were everyday experiences for many people. But Micah didn’t make her feel inadequate, and quietly assisted her, so their fellow travelers had no idea that this was her first plane trip.
The day was overcast, and Laurel was disappointed that as soon as the plane was airborne, her view of earth was obscured by cloud cover until they approached the Atlanta airport. Micah had explained about changing planes at the airport, and she had no trouble taking the escalator to the first floor, where they boarded a little train to the wing where the international flights departed. They had a two-hour wait for their plane to Caracas.
After they’d taken off from Atlanta, and were an hour into their flight, a meal was served, and although Laurel had often heard complaints about the poor quality of airline food, it was a novel experience. She enjoyed every bite of the garden salad, chicken and rice, mixed vegetables, roll and chocolate chip cookies. Her excitement amused Micah, but she didn’t care. She’d waited over forty years to take a plane trip, and in spite of the outcome of their journey, she was having a good time.
Micah rented headphones, and they enjoyed a documentary on Venezuela, which prepared Laurel for the customs and scenery of the country.
“What are your plans once we get to Venezuela?” she asked when they removed the headphones.
“Kenneth Morrow spends most of his time in a remote village deep in Venezuela’s rain forest, but he may have a residence in Caracas. Hopefully, we’ll find Morrow in Caracas. If not, we can go into the jungle to find him. That may take several days.”
Micah felt Laurel’s body stiffen, and her eyes filled with concern. “How will we get into the jungle?”
“I have friends at one of the American oil companies operating in Venezuela. I can probably arrange for us to go in one of their helicopters to a landing strip at the edge of the rain forest. From there, the fastest way to the village is by boat.”
“Oh, my!” Laurel said.
“You won’t be afraid, will you?”
“I don’t think so,” she said hesitantly, “as long as you’re with me. All of this is quite an adventure for a woman who’s spent all of her life in Tennessee.”
“It is quite an adventure, and it can be dangerous. But when you know what you’re doing, you don’t have to be afraid of the jungle. Even if I was alone, I wouldn’t go to th
e interior without some natives for guides. We’ll hire a couple of guides if we have to go that far.”
A smile of affection and joy spread across Laurel’s face, and Micah had to remind himself to treat her like a sister. “Thanks for giving me an opportunity to do this,” she said.
With a quirk of his lips, which Laurel now recognized as his teasing look, he said, “Better not thank me until I have you back safe and sound at Oaklawn.”
Laurel lifted her eyebrows impishly and favored him with a saucy grin. She was convinced that harm would come to her only over Micah’s dead body.
The plane was late arriving in Caracas, and by the time they went through customs and took the shuttle to the hotel, it was eleven o’clock. The new experiences and the strange language frustrated Laurel. She was very tired, a little scared, and very uncomfortable if Micah was out of her sight. But he had no trouble communicating with the natives in their own language, and Laurel’s fears abated.
In spite of her weariness, she was impressed by the spacious hotel. It was a far cry from the hotel she and Jason had stayed in when they’d gone to Atlanta on their honeymoon years ago. Still, the strangeness of the city intimidated Laurel, and she was pleased to know that Micah would be next door.
Each room had a king-size bed, chairs, tables, a television enclosed in a large cabinet and a huge bathroom. Before he went to his room, Micah made sure she knew how to use the phone to call from room to room and explained the fire-escape system to her.
“It’s been a few hours since we’ve eaten,” Micah said, “and I ordered a light lunch of soup and fruit to be delivered to your room. I’ll wait in my room until they bring the luggage, then I’ll come here so we can eat together.” As he started out the door, he cautioned, “Keep this security chain on the door, and don’t let anyone in until you know who it is.”
The luggage was delivered shortly before the food arrived, and to try using the phone, Laurel telephoned Micah’s room to tell him the food was ready.
While they ate, Laurel exclaimed over the wall hangings, the massive furniture and the size of the room. “I’m surprised at such elegance,” she said. “I thought there was a lot of poverty in Venezuela.”
“There’s a great deal of oil money in this country, and this hotel caters to affluent people. Compared to rates at home, this isn’t an expensive hotel.”
As soon as they ate their light lunch, Micah went to his room. “There isn’t any reason to be afraid, but if you need me, call right away.”
Laurel’s body was weary, but she couldn’t sleep at first. It had been years since she’d slept anyplace except Oaklawn, and the strange room was intimidating. She took a Bible from her luggage, and turning to one of her favorite Psalms, she read aloud,
“‘Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go to the heavens, You are there…. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast.’”
The words reminded Laurel that no matter where she was, she wasn’t separated from God’s watchful eye. With that assurance, she went to sleep.
Since Venezuela was on the same time zone as Tennessee, Laurel woke at her usual time and for a moment she couldn’t remember where she was. Without opening her eyes, she was conscious of the loud noise of traffic, and she knew she wasn’t in the peaceful atmosphere of Oaklawn.
She thought about Micah’s attentiveness, not only on this trip, but ever since he’d come to Oaklawn. She knew he would make a good husband, but she wondered if she loved him enough to become his wife. She didn’t deceive herself that she was physically attracted to him. But considering her disastrous marriage to Jason, she knew she was hesitant to give herself to another man. She’d used her in-laws’ disapproval as a reason for not dating, but she wondered if that was more of an excuse than a real reason. She was afraid to marry again. It was as simple as that.
She was startled by a knock on the door, and knew she’d fallen asleep again. She glanced quickly at the clock—seven o’clock.
Micah’s voice was muffled by the door. “Are you awake, Laurel?”
She jumped out of bed and cracked the door. Micah was shaved and dressed for the day, and she said, “Oh, am I late? I’m sorry.”
“There isn’t much we can do for a few hours, but if you’ve had enough rest, go ahead and dress. Phone me when you’re ready, and we’ll go down to the restaurant for breakfast. By that time, I can make some telephone calls. Did you rest?”
“I couldn’t go to sleep at first, but I must have slept well. I feel rested now.”
Not wanting to delay him, Laurel hurried into the bathroom, but she couldn’t resist soaking in the huge tub with her favorite lavender bath gel. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for her to shampoo and dry her hair, and in less than an hour from the time she’d gotten out of bed, she tapped on Micah’s door, ready for whatever adventure the day brought.
Micah let her in and made an involuntary appraisal of her appearance. She wore a pair of belted, flat-front khaki chinos, emphasizing that, in spite of having a married daughter and being in her forties, Laurel had the petite figure of a teenager. Her loose-fitting checked shirt was a vivid lime shade. She wore a pair of brown loafers. Her only jewelry was a pair of silver hoop earrings.
She squirmed a little under his scrutiny, and he said quickly, “You’re looking great this morning.”
“You said to dress for warm weather, but I brought a lightweight slicker like you suggested. Will I need it today?”
“No, but it will come in handy if we head into the jungle. Let’s go eat breakfast.”
After breakfast, they returned to their rooms about nine o’clock, and Laurel went into Micah’s room while he made arrangements for their search. Kenneth Morrow’s number was listed in the telephone book, and a woman answered when he dialed the number. Speaking in Spanish, he learned that the woman was the housekeeper, but that Mr. Morrow wasn’t in residence. She was reluctant to give Micah any information, but finally said that he was in the jungle and wasn’t expected home for two months.
Disappointed, he turned to Laurel and told her what he’d learned. “So we’ll have to search for him.”
“Since this man doesn’t even have the same name as Jason’s friend, this may be a wild-goose chase. But since we’ve come this far, let’s try to find Kenneth Morrow.”
“I’ll make an appointment with a man I know at Allied Petroleum Offices and see if he can help us.”
“Should I change into something more dressy?” Laurel asked.
“No. You look fine.”
While he waited for a return call from the oil company, she went into her room and finished preparations for the day. When she returned to Micah’s room, he had finished his conversation.
“We can see Mr. Sebastian in an hour. We’ll take a taxi to his office.”
The ride through the streets of Caracas in a taxi was an experience Laurel wouldn’t soon forget. No one seemed to keep in a single lane of traffic, and the drivers shouted angrily at each other in Spanish. The drivers used their horns instead of brakes, and more than once she was thrown against Micah when the driver swerved to miss a pedestrian or another vehicle. Finally, he put his arm around her and held her close to his side.
“It’s this way in all major cities of the world, although the cab drivers in this city are a bit more daring than most places.”
“Let’s walk back to the hotel.”
He motioned to a few pedestrians trying to work their way across the street. “It’s safer in a cab than trying to dodge vehicles on foot.”
Nevertheless, Laurel was relieved to get out of the cab in front of a multistoried building. Here, too, Micah seemed to know his way around, and with his hand on her elbow, directed her inside to an elevator and pushed the button for the tenth floor.
When they stepped out of the elevator, Micah said, “We take the corridor to the left.”
&nbs
p; “I’m kinda scared, Micah. What if we find out things I’d be better off not knowing?”
“That’s a risk you’ll have to take. Now that there seems to be a chance to find out what happened to Jason, it’s something you must do. Otherwise, you’ll fret about it the rest of your life.”
Micah opened the door to Mr. Sebastian’s office and stepped back for Laurel to precede him inside. Laurel knew she was naive about the ways of the world, but surely this must be an outstanding reception area. The modern walnut furnishings, thick carpet, ornately framed oil paintings and a huge crystal chandelier were magnificent. One whole wall had windows extending from floor to ceiling, providing an exceptional view of the business district of Caracas with mountains in the background.
A receptionist rose from her desk with a quick fluid movement and spoke in Spanish.
“Mr. Sebastian said to show us in immediately upon our arrival,” Micah repeated in English for Laurel’s benefit.
Laurel had the sensation of sinking into thick turf as she walked across the room toward a connecting door. A handsome, middle-aged native rose from behind a huge desk and came forward to shake hands with Micah.
“Buenos días, Señor Davidson.”
“Good morning,” Micah said. “Señor Simon Sebastian, let me present my friend, Laurel Cooper. Mrs. Cooper speaks no Spanish, so may we converse in English?”
“Of course,” Mr. Sebastian said, with only a trace of accent.
He led them to a low table with several chairs grouped around it. The receptionist entered and placed a silver tray on the table. Another woman came with a tray of pastries.
The receptionist offered tea or coffee, and Laurel asked for coffee, as did Micah and Simon. The woman placed a pastry on each of the silver plates and left the room, closing the door behind her.
“Now what can I do for you, señor?”
“I’ll need to relate a bit of background if you have time to listen.”
Simon spread his arms wide in a Latin gesture, shrugging his shoulders. “I take the time for you, amigo.”
