Stalemate

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Stalemate Page 21

by Iris Johansen


  “Proof?” Armandariz’s face was white with rage. “You come and bring me these forgeries. Diaz is a friend to us. We would have had to disband if it hadn’t been for his help.”

  “No forgeries.” He glanced at Manuel. “Don’t let him destroy them before he checks. It took me a hell of a long time and a small fortune to find that evidence.”

  “I’ll do what I please.” Armandariz’s voice was shaking. “Lies. You tell me lies.”

  Montalvo stepped back. “Eve?”

  That’s right, infuriate the man and then leave it up to me to convince him, she thought in frustration. “I don’t know anything about those papers. Montalvo didn’t think it best to share them with me. I wouldn’t have wanted to be involved anyway.” She put the leather box on the table. “This is the only part of the business I wanted anything to do with.” She unfastened the box and lifted the lid. “I wanted to bring your daughter home.”

  “My daughter is in Australia.”

  “Your daughter was murdered and thrown into a swamp,” she said bluntly. “By the time Montalvo was able to find her body, there was no body. Only a skeleton. He was lucky to find those bones intact, considering the passage of time and the water and wildlife in that kind of habitat.”

  “She’s in Australia.”

  “Your daughter’s skull is in this box.”

  He looked away from the box. “No.”

  “I don’t have the slightest doubt about it.” She carefully lifted the reconstruction from the box and set it on the table. “Now, dammit, look at her. You gave life to Nalia. Don’t you dare reject her.”

  “My daughter is not dead.”

  “Look at her.”

  He slowly turned his head. She could see him flinch as his gaze focused on the skull. “A pretty statue. You could have carved it from a likeness in a photo.”

  “But I didn’t. I measured the depth points and then I built up the face around them. Only after I finished did I ask for a photo. I took three-dimensional shots of the reconstruction and then superimposed them on the photo.” She pulled out a disc and crossed to the computer in front of Armandariz and popped in the disc. “Every feature aligned perfectly. Watch it happen.”

  “I’ve no wish to—”

  “Watch it. I didn’t bring her home to have you turn your back on her. Watch the image as it covers the reconstruction.”

  “I don’t want to—”

  Manuel stepped closer. “Don’t be a coward, Antonio. Watch it happen.”

  “Shut up,” he said harshly. “This is my concern.”

  “It’s all our concern if it means we’ve been betrayed. I’m willing to fight and die, but I won’t go blindly. I’ve been at your side for twenty years. But you shouldn’t expect that of me.”

  Armandariz hesitated and then swung his gaze to the computer screen. “Show me.”

  “I don’t have to do anything. The program does it all.” She watched the slow superimposition. Even after all these years it always amazed her. It was rather like a ghostly hand blending the two images together. “The similarity ratio is ninety-six percent. That’s exceptional.”

  Armandariz didn’t take his gaze from the screen. “Not if you were looking at the photo as you did the reconstruction.”

  “But I wasn’t looking at it.” She paused. “I told Montalvo you’d believe what you want to believe. I can’t make you see anything you don’t want to see.” She pointed at the superimposition on the screen. “That woman is Nalia. She died trying to help all of you. It’s not right for you to throw everything she did away. Her life should mean something. Her death should mean something.”

  “She’s not dead.” His gaze never left the screen. “She’s not dead.”

  “It’s Nalia, Antonio,” Manuel said gently. “I know that face. Her cheekbones are just like yours. The eyes are deep-set like yours. I’ve watched the two of you together since she was a child.” His eyes glittered with moisture. “For God’s sake, I grew up with her. It’s Nalia.”

  “Proof,” Armandariz said hoarsely. “We have no proof.”

  “Montalvo sent a tooth off for DNA confirmation,” Eve said. “It will take time. He hoped the reconstruction would convince you. Diaz has found out I was doing the reconstruction and will be moving.”

  “Convince me without proof?”

  “Look in the mirror. Your friend is right. Your bone structure and Nalia’s are very similar.” Her lips twisted. “Do you want me to reel off the probable tissue depth of every point in your skull? I could do it. I became so accustomed to working on Nalia that she seemed part of me. She became…my friend. It’s a pity you weren’t a friend to her.” She took out the disc from the computer. “Do you ever dream about her, Armandariz?”

  “No.”

  “You will from now on.” She turned back to the reconstruction. “Because you know you’re wrong. You’re not going to be able to lie to yourself any longer.” She picked up the reconstruction and started to put it in the box. “Let’s go, Montalvo. I can’t do—”

  “Stop.” Armandariz was staring at the skull. “Leave her.”

  She went rigid. “I can’t do that. She’s in my care.”

  Armandariz looked at Montalvo. “I’m keeping her, Montalvo.”

  Montalvo’s gaze narrowed on Armandariz’s face. “Why?”

  “I’m keeping her.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  “Leave her.” Manuel stepped forward. “I’ll see that nothing happens to her. I’ll consider it my duty.”

  “We need to bring her to a final resting place,” Eve said. “She’s not a card to be traded about.”

  “I know.” Montalvo was studying Armandariz’s expression. “Very well, we’ll leave her for the time being. I’ll come back for her tomorrow.”

  “Screw you,” Armandariz said. “I’m keeping her. You took her away from me once. I won’t let it happen again.”

  “Tomorrow.” He took Eve’s elbow and urged her toward the entrance. “Don’t argue, Eve.”

  “Don’t tell me that.” She glanced angrily back over her shoulder at Armandariz. “This isn’t a pretty statue of your daughter. This is part of her body. If you can’t believe that, then give me the reconstruction.”

  Armandariz didn’t answer, his gaze once more fastened on the skull.

  “He does believe it,” Manuel said as he stepped closer and placed his hand on Armandariz’s shoulder. “Give him his time with her.”

  Eve hesitated, studying the older man’s expression. His lips were tight, his face pale and strained, and his eyes…She whirled and strode ahead of Montalvo out of the tent.

  “Is he right?” she asked Montalvo as soon as they were a few yards away. “Does Armandariz believe us?”

  “You wouldn’t have left that tent if you didn’t think so,” Montalvo said. “You did a great job, Eve.”

  “How soon before you can talk to him about going after Diaz?”

  “As Manuel said, give him a little time with his daughter. He has to come to terms with her death and his own mistakes that hurt his precious cause.”

  “I don’t have time. I need to help Joe.”

  “And you will. I’ll get in touch with Miguel when we get back to the compound and see what he’s found out.”

  “I’m still not sure Armandariz believed us.”

  “I am. He called the reconstruction ‘her,’ not ‘it.’ And he was as possessive as he always was with her. He hated the idea of her marrying me. He thought I stole her away from him.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes, I was a possessive bastard too. But now neither one of us has her.”

  She shook her head. “Now you both have her. As long as you love her memory.”

  He was silent a moment. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right.” They had reached the jeep and she climbed into the passenger seat. “God knows I’m not right about a lot of things. I seem to be blundering on all sides these days. But I’
m right about this.”

  Armandariz had not spoken for the last ten minutes. His gaze was focused on the face of the reconstruction.

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Manuel sat down in the camp chair beside him. “She shouldn’t have taken the chance she did. She should have waited until she could convince you that Diaz was crooked.”

  “She never waited for anything,” Armandariz said. “I taught her to make a decision and then act on it. That’s why she was such a good soldier.” His fingers gently touched the line of her cheek. “I forgot how beautiful she was. I made myself forget. She does look like me, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  “I lied to that Duncan woman. I do dream about Nalia.”

  “It was none of her business.”

  “I dream about her when she was a small child, when she was mine. Before Montalvo came and took her away from me.”

  “Nalia always loved you. She kept Montalvo here because she knew he was valuable to the cause, valuable to you, Antonio.”

  “I know she loved me.” His face twisted with pain. “But that bitch was right; I wasn’t a good friend to her. I didn’t want Montalvo to be right. I didn’t want Nalia to be right about Diaz. I wanted her to trust my judgment as she had before she was married.”

  “Everyone makes mistakes,” Manuel said. “Nalia was my friend. I should have questioned you and told you that perhaps we could be wrong.” He grimaced. “But you’re not often wrong, Antonio. I’ve gotten out of the habit of standing up to you.” He paused. “What do we do about this?”

  Armandariz shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now.” His voice was uneven. “I don’t want to think. I only want to sit here and look at my daughter who’s come home to me.”

  Eve’s cell phone rang after they were only a few miles from the encampment.

  “Where are you, Eve?” Diaz asked when she answered. “I understand you’ve become involved in Montalvo’s negotiations. Have you met with Armandariz yet?”

  “How did you know that I was going to see Armandariz, Diaz?”

  Montalvo’s hands tensed on the steering wheel as his gaze flew to her face.

  “I have people in Montalvo’s camp. Did you doubt it when you met my little reptile friend? You’re not safe from me wherever you are.”

  “Empty threats. You’ve tried to kill me twice and you didn’t succeed.”

  Silence on the other end of the line. “You’re making me angry. That’s not a smart thing to do.”

  “Why are you calling me? If you know we’re going to Armandariz’s camp, then you must know I’ve finished the reconstruction.” She paused. “And there’s no doubt it’s Nalia Armandariz.”

  “There’s always doubt. Shall I tell you what you’re going to tell my old friend Antonio? It’s all a big lie. You sculpted the face that Montalvo told you to create. The skull was not that whore.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “Because it will please me. Armandariz will believe you because he wants it to be true. He likes our cozy relationship and he wants to keep it flourishing. All you have to do is tell him what a liar Montalvo is and he’ll be very happy.”

  “But I don’t want to please you.”

  “Of course you do. You don’t care anything about Montalvo. He’s nothing to you but a fat fee. I can match his money.” His voice lowered. “And I can give you something he can’t.”

  “What?”

  “Your lover. Do you want to see Joe Quinn alive again?”

  She stiffened as panic jolted through her. Christ.

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “I’d let you talk to him, but my men were a little rough when they captured him, and he’s unconscious.”

  She tried to keep her voice steady. “How convenient.”

  “Of course, perhaps it’s not their doing. It could be that nasty wound my man Duarte inflicted. Perhaps it’s opened and he’s bleeding to death. Should I ask my men to check?”

  “You bastard.”

  “No curses. You must be polite to me. You wouldn’t want to have a guilty conscience if I became so angry that I forgot about Armandariz and decided to punish you.” His tone became terse. “If Armandariz makes any move on me, Quinn dies. If I talk to him and he seems to be waffling in his loyalty to me, Quinn dies. If Montalvo attacks me, Quinn dies. Is that understood?”

  “You’re being very clear.”

  “Good. Then understand this. After you convince Armandariz what a cheat and liar you are, I want you to bring the reconstruction and turn it over to me.”

  “You know Montalvo won’t let me do that.”

  “Then steal it. I don’t care how you do it. You’re obviously a clever woman. Find a way to give me that skull. I won’t let Montalvo use it as evidence against me. I have the skeleton. I must have that skull.”

  “So that you can throw it back in the swamp?”

  “No, I’ve learned my lesson. This time it will be ashes tossed to the four winds.”

  “I won’t do it. I don’t have any proof that you have Joe.”

  “Oh, I’ll give you proof. By the time you reach Montalvo’s compound it will be waiting for you.” He hung up.

  Keep calm. Don’t panic. Don’t fall apart.

  “Quinn?” Montalvo asked quietly.

  She nodded jerkily. “Diaz says he has him. That he couldn’t speak because he was unconscious.”

  “It could be a lie.”

  “That’s what I told him.” She rubbed her temple. “No proof. He said it would be waiting for me at the compound.”

  “What did he want for Quinn?”

  “Damage control. I’m to tell Armandariz I counterfeited the reconstruction. I’m to turn the skull back over to Diaz so it can’t be used as evidence.”

  “Otherwise Quinn bites it.”

  “Yes. It could be a lie. Call Miguel and see if he knows anything.”

  He nodded, reached for his phone, and dialed. After a moment he shook his head. “No answer.” He put the phone away. “I’ll try a little later. He may be in a place where the sound of a ringing phone might not be safe.”

  It wasn’t the answer she had hoped for. Nothing was going right, she thought desperately. “Hurry. I need to get back to the compound.”

  “I’m hurrying.” Montalvo’s foot pressed the accelerator. “It will still take another hour.”

  It was an hour that was going to seem a century. She gazed blindly out the window. “I’m not sure I want to know what his proof is.”

  “Yes, you do. You don’t hide your head. You’ll face it and then we’ll find a way to skewer the bastard.”

  She felt a surge of warmth that banished a little of the chill. It was good not to be alone with fear. “Right. That’s exactly what we’ll do.”

  Montalvo got a call when they were just minutes away from the compound. He exploded after listening only a moment. “Shit. No, don’t do anything. I’ll be right there.” He clicked his phone shut. “It was Soldono.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I think Diaz delivered your proof.” The gates of the compound loomed ahead and there were several men milling around outside the gate. “Damn him to hell.”

  He stomped on the brake and jumped out of the jeep as Soldono came toward him.

  “Where?” Montalvo asked harshly.

  “Around the corner, the west wall,” Soldono said. “I don’t know how long—” He broke off as he ran after Montalvo.

  Eve jumped out of the car and followed them. She could see the beams of several flashlights as she went around the corner of the compound. They were all focused on the wall several yards away. What the devil were they—

  She stopped in her tracks. “Oh, my God.”

  Miguel.

  Horror tore through her. She could dimly hear Montalvo cursing as he reached the wall but everything seemed surreal, lost in the hideous vision before her.

  Miguel was nailed to a makeshift cross leaning against the wall
of the compound. A leather strap gagged his mouth but his eyes…

  Agony.

  “Get him down,” she said. “He’s alive. Look at his eyes.”

  “I sent them for a ladder,” Soldono said. “They should be—Here they are.” He stepped aside as Montalvo grabbed the ladder and flew up the rungs.

  “Two of you get below him and lift him, take the weight off.” Montalvo tore the gag from Miguel’s lips. “We’ll have you down in a few minutes. You’re going to be fine.”

  “Hurts,” Miguel gasped. “Hurts.”

  “I know,” Montalvo said unevenly. “It will stop. I promise.”

  “I…failed you.”

  “No, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yes, it was. I’ll…make it up to you, Colonel.”

  “Yes, you will. By getting well.” He called down, “Did you call Dr. Diego, Soldono?”

  “As soon as I phoned you,” Soldono said. “He should be here anytime. How else can I help?”

  “We’ve got to get him into the house but I don’t want to take those spikes out myself. I don’t want to damage his hands any more than they are now. You and a few men get a stretcher and we’ll take down the crucifix and carry it and him on the stretcher.” He glanced at Eve. “Get a room ready for him. I want him close to me.”

  “I’ll give him Joe’s room.” Eve turned and flew around the corner and through the front gates. She was glad to have something to do that might jar her from the horror and pity that was surging through her.

  Jesus, that poor boy.

  Proof.

  Rage seared burning through the horror as she remembered Diaz’s words. He had sent her this hideous message to frighten her. It was beyond belief that anyone could be this cruel.

  He was a monster.

 

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