Hide Away

by Iris Johansen

  Cara nodded. “If you’ll let me stay with you.” She turned and moved back across the room toward the kitchen. She stopped as she saw a painting on the wall of the living room. “That’s a painting of you.” She gazed at the portrait of Eve in her blue work shirt. “I like it. It looks … warm.”

  “It was done by my daughter, Jane. She’s an artist and very, very good. She gave the portrait to Joe as a gift.”

  “Is she very famous?”

  “No, she’s young and just starting out, but people are beginning to know her name.” She started to stir the hamburger again. “She lives in London because that’s where her agent and gallery are located.”

  She went closer to the portrait and peered down at the scrawled signature. “It’s signed, but it’s not—”

  “Not mine or Joe’s last name? Jane MacGuire. She’s adopted. She was ten when she came to us.”

  “You must have loved her very much to have chosen her.”

  “Yes. But we kind of chose each other.” She tasted the hamburger and put the lid on it. “The cheese definitely helped. Good job, Cara.”

  She smiled. “We did it together.” She came toward her. “What else can I do?”

  “Get some rolls out of the freezer and put them in the oven. I’ll get down the plates.” She shook her head. “I should have put those rolls in before. This Hamburger Helper is almost done.”

  “I kept you too busy,” Cara said as she opened the freezer. “I asked a lot of questions.”

  “Yes, you did. And I asked you a few, too.” She added, “It’s a process called getting to know each other. How do you think we did?”

  “Pretty good.”

  “Me, too. Dinner can wait a little while. Joe isn’t—”

  Even as she spoke she heard the key in the lock, and Joe came into the house.

  “Hi. Just in time,” she said. “Cara and I did a joint experiment, and it’s very close to—” She stopped as she saw what Joe was carrying. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “I called the music store from the airport and asked them to choose the best one they had in stock and have it ready for me.” Joe came toward Cara and handed her the black-leather case. “I hope it will do. I don’t know anything about musical instruments. I had to trust them.”

  “I don’t care. It will be wonderful.” Cara’s eyes were glittering with excitement as she took the case and ran to the couch to open it. She carefully took out the violin and ran her fingers caressingly down the glossy surface. “It’s beautiful.” She began to tune it. “Beautiful…”

  “I think we’ve lost her,” Eve said to Joe. “I believe I’ll even wait to put in those rolls.” She took a step closer to him. “You constantly surprise me.”

  “I just thought it was better she had it sooner than later. She’s had a lonely life. Her music was probably a closer friend to her than anyone but her Elena.” He smiled as his gaze lingered on Cara’s absorbed face. “Until she regards us as good friends, the violin will have to do for now.” He glanced back at Cara. “I think we’ll give her an hour to become acquainted with it. I’m going to take a look around outside.”

  Eve walked him to the door. “Have you heard anything from Mexico City?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Kevin Roper might not be connected to Salazar. You said there was a chance.”

  “A chance.” He shrugged. “I have a hunch he is. He was too cool, too bold.”

  “I hope you’re wrong. We need time.”

  “We may not get it.” He paused. “And how are you feeling?”

  “Fine. Why shouldn’t I be? Joe, I’m barely a few weeks—” She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  “Mentally as well as physically?”

  She glanced back at Cara, then gave him a quick kiss. “Later.” She pushed him out the door. “Be careful.”

  She drew a deep breath and moved back toward Cara. She’d wanted her discussion with Joe to be private but they could probably have had an in-depth conversation and Cara would not have heard a word. She was totally absorbed, and she might have been on another planet. Eve didn’t want to take that chance. What she had learned this morning about having a child was only between the two of them and not to be touched by all the other madness that was going on in her life.

  Only this morning. It seemed incredible that such a short time had passed since that moment when her entire life had been turned upside down.

  But that time had been filled with worry and adjustment and Cara. And that adjustment was still going on.

  I had the music, she had told Eve. She’d had loneliness and fear and death, but she’d also been given the gift that had made all that tolerable. Now she had it again, and it was all there in her face and the loving delicacy of her fingers on the strings.

  Joe was a very wise man.

  She took her coffee and dropped down on the easy chair across from the couch where Cara sat. She was silent, watching her.

  She’d get up soon and put away the food. Supper could wait. Cara needed this nourishment more than any food.

  * * *

  No sign of any intruders, Joe thought as he knelt to examine the grass beside the trail. It was still early in the game. They had moved fast and left the hospital only earlier today. Salazar or his man would have had to move equally quickly to track them down and position themselves for any assault. But Joe had no doubt that assault would come, and he would have to be ready for it.

  He wanted it over.

  He had anticipated that this nightmare that had tormented them would extend past the killing of Walsh. He had fully expected it. Walsh had only been a hired killer, and Salazar was still hovering on the horizon. Joe had been planning on parking Eve and Cara somewhere safe and going after Salazar himself. But that had been put on hold by the news that Eve was with child. He had been caught off guard, and he had to think and look at all the options.

  Just as he had told her she had to look at her options. He knew her, and he knew how she would—

  His phone rang. Detective Juan Manez, Mexico City.

  “It’s about time,” he said when he picked up. “I thought you’d contact me sooner. What did you find out?”

  “That you should be more respectful of both our friendship and the fact that my sources are not limitless. It should have taken me days, not hours. You’re fortunate that I have a forgiving nature.”

  “And that you want to bring Salazar down with a solid crash.”

  “I’d prefer Castino, but Salazar will do. If you can’t arrange a double event.”

  “Right now, I need you to focus on Salazar’s group. Did you find a Kevin Roper.”

  “No.” He paused. “But I found a Ramon Franco. You would find him interesting.”

  “One and the same?”

  “You tell me. I’m sending you a photo.”

  “So tell me about him.”

  “A very nasty predator who pretends to be a follower, but I’d bet we’ll have to contend with him in the upper echelons of the cartel in a very short time. The word out is he’s very ambitious and willing to take out anyone who gets in his way.”

  “He’s just a kid.”

  “Nineteen, almost twenty. Did that make you less lethal when you were his age?”

  “Good point. Give me his history.”

  “Grew up on the streets of San Diego, father a drug runner, mother a prostitute. Ramon was acting as her pimp by the time he was ten. But he had a temper, and he caught his mother stashing some of the money for herself. He pushed her down a flight of stairs and broke her neck.”

  “Charming,” Joe said dryly.

  “He lost a meal ticket, but he learned from it. No more whores and no more losing his temper. Instead, he ran across the border and started trailing after the drug runners from Salazar’s cartel, doing errands, making himself generally useful. By the time he was twelve, he’d graduated to collecting debts for Salazar. He became a sort of protégé of the mob. From then on it was straight up the chai
n. He dedicated himself to learning everything a good assassin should know, from explosives to poison, to his favorite, the machete. At last report, he’d killed at least fourteen, and that was business. He’s smart and not shy of showing muscle to anyone in the cartel who causes him trouble or might get in the way of his rise to the top.”

  “Faults?”

  “Temper, he likes to torture his victims if it doesn’t get in the way of completing the job, and vanity, he believes he can talk anyone into doing what he wants.”

  “He may be right about that. Very smooth.” He heard a ping and accessed the photo. Ramon Franco was gazing up at him, smiling recklessly. “You hit it,” he told Manez. “It seems Salazar turned loose his pet tarantula on Cara.”

  “God help her.”

  “He has so far. Eve and I are attempting to offer a little assistance in that direction.”

  “She’ll need it.” He paused. “You’ve verified through that reconstruction that the child found in that grave was Jenny Castino?”

  “If I said yes, you’d be obligated to tell your superiors and they’d be obligated to take action about returning her sister, Cara, to her native country.”

  “True. But it might also cause Castino to take down Salazar. Or Salazar to take down Castino. Either would be beneficial for us.”

  “I’m not prepared to sacrifice Cara to do that. We’ve already lost Jenny.”

  “I sympathize.” He was silent a moment. “But we have a war down here. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep silent.”

  “You’re warning me.”

  “I’m telling you that unless you can figure out a way to give me the result I want without bringing back Cara, I’ll have to reconsider going to California and officially verifying Jenny’s identity myself.”

  “How much time are you going to give me?”

  “A week should give ample time to someone of your capabilities.”

  “Hardly ample.”

  “All I can afford. The only reason I’m giving you that much is because I remember how Castino and his wife treated those two children before Salazar kidnapped them. They were cared for by nurses, and I had reports they rarely saw them. Castino’s wife, Natalie, would trot out the older girl, Jenny, to play the piano at her parties. But other than that, they scarcely had anything to do with them. Natalie was only interested in her parties and shopping. Castino never wanted to admit that anything he owned wasn’t the best even though he wanted a son.”

  “You know a lot about them.”

  “I know a lot about all of the cartel bosses down here. That’s why I’m on the hit list of practically every one of them. It’s not only that I wish to break their power, it’s sheer self-preservation. Get a plan together. One week.” He hung up.

  Succinct and to the point, Joe thought as he shoved his phone into his pocket. Manez would do exactly as he said he’d do. He was a good cop, and he’d do the best job he could to protect his people. He had no problem with that, he’d do the same under like circumstances. But it left him less time than he’d hoped to keep Immigration away from Cara.

  Get a plan together.

  And he would. He just had to line up the enemy and see how to take them down.

  In one week.

  Not impossible, just difficult. And he had to make sure there was no threat to Eve or Cara.

  And no smiling tarantula hovering around them to take his bite.

  Well, he was almost sure the tarantula wasn’t on the move here and now. There was no way of being certain, but that was what instinct was all about. Joe had checked the cars, boats, exterior of the house. If Franco was on the property, he was keeping a safe distance and only observing. There was no telling about tomorrow but tonight was—

  Music.

  He stopped on the trail, his gaze on the lights of the cottage just ahead.

  Exquisite, diamond-sharp, velvet-soft. Intricate and complex and yet simple enough to stop the heart. The music wasn’t being played, it was being newly created with every note.

  “My God,” he murmured.

  He stood there and let the music flow over him. The composition was familiar, but he wasn’t sure what it was. He didn’t care. It was enough that it existed. It was enough that the little girl who was playing it existed.

  Oh, Cara, what the hell have Eve and I brought into our lives?

  * * *

  Eve was in bed but not asleep when Joe came into their bedroom. Cara was still playing in the living room but they could hear it only faintly back here in the bedroom. “I was beginning to worry.”

  “I stayed outside for a while listening. I didn’t want to disturb— No, that’s not true. I just wanted it to go on.” He started to take off his shirt. “Is she as brilliant as I think she is?”

  “Yes, I don’t know about brilliant, but if that’s the ability to tear the heartstrings, I think that’s Cara. I finally came back here to the bedroom because I thought she might want to be alone with it. She’s intensely personal with her music.”

  “Isn’t that the way it is with any artist?”

  “I don’t know. But I’ve been lying here thinking about her sister, Jenny. She loved her music, too. I wish I could have heard her play the piano.”

  “I was talking to Manez, and he was saying that Jenny’s mother always made her perform to entertain her guests. Jenny must have been a prodigy as talented as Cara.” He’d finished undressing and got into bed and pulled her close. “And I’m sure Cara would be designated the same role if she was sent back to Castino.”

  “No!”

  “Just a comment. It’s something we have to face.”

  “No, we don’t. Not if she doesn’t go back.”

  “I thought that was the way you were heading.”

  “There’s no other way to go. We both agreed that it would be both dangerous and cruel to submit Cara to what she’d go through if she had to be shipped back there. We’ll keep her with us until we can work something out.”

  “That’s short-term; if it goes long-term, we’d have to deal with a girl who is quite possibly going to turn out a prodigy. That could be a headache for people as busy as we are. Are you prepared for that?”

  “No, I’m not prepared for anything. How could I be? We don’t even know if she’d want to stay with us. All she knows is that she had a dream about Jenny, and she wanted her to stay with me.”

  “A dream? She didn’t actually see Jenny as you’ve been doing?”

  She shook her head. “If she did, she prefers to think of it as a dream. Kids these days are bombarded by television shows about ghosts and supernatural stuff. I’m sure that Cara thinks that Jenny’s coming to her is like one of those stories, only more real.”

  “Maybe. Did you tell her that Jenny actually appeared to you?”

  “No. The last thing I want is to encourage the fantasy. She needs to face the real world and get on with her life. She’s gone through enough tragedy.” She paused. “The violin was a master stroke, Joe.”

  “We promised it to her.”

  “And you fulfilled the promise.” She moved closer to him. “We have another problem. Jane called me while you were gone.”

  “Why is that a problem?”

  “Because Margaret got in touch with her and filled her in on what was going on.”

  “Yes, that makes it a problem. Reaction?”

  “What do you think? She was upset. She pulled the family card.”

  “Uh-oh. And that means?”

  “Ultimatum. One way or another, she’s going to be with us. She’ll either come here, or we’ll go there.”

  “London?”

  “No, Edinburgh. And then the Highlands. She’s going on that treasure hunt for Cira’s gold that MacDuff has been nagging her about. Remember? I told you she might when she left here.”

  “The Highlands … wild country. Who’s going with her? MacDuff and who else?”

  “Jock Gavin. You know how close he and MacDuff are. Jock grew up in MacDuff’s
castle, and they’re like brothers. She said that Seth Caleb was not coming, but I imagine he’ll show up whether she likes it or not. I don’t know who else.”

  “Quite an entourage…”

  “Why are you so interested?”

  “She offered us an ultimatum. I’m exploring the possibilities.”

  “We need to get her to stay out of this.”

  “Yes. What do you think the odds are?”

  Eve sighed. “She gave us until tomorrow.”

  “Then we’ll have to think about it.” He paused. “I heard from Manez. He identified the kid who accosted Cara at the hospital. Ramon Franco, nineteen, a very ugly customer who very likely killed his own parents and certainly murdered fourteen other people. He works for Salazar.”

  “You thought that he did,” she said. “That means that they’re moving very close to Cara.”

  “And to you. Salazar regards you as a problem he has to remove, or he wouldn’t have given Walsh the order to kill you when you were hunting for Cara.”

  “But it’s Cara who is the important one.”

  “The hell it is.” Joe’s voice was suddenly rough. “You’re the important one.” He was on one elbow looking down at her. “I’ll do my damnedest to save Cara, but you have to live. So stop talking bullshit. I’m barely holding on by a thread right now.”

  She could see that as she looked up at him. His jaw was tight, and a muscle was jerking in his cheek. “Okay. I only meant a child is always more vulnerable.”

  “Yes.” He reached down and touched her belly. “A child is very vulnerable and you should pay attention to your own words. There’s a dual reason why you should be working hard to take care of yourself.” He rolled away from her and put his arm beneath his head. He added jerkily, “Though we haven’t had a chance to even discuss that minor event, have we?”

  “It’s not minor,” Eve said.

  “No? It appears to be far down on the agenda.”

  “It’s not minor,” she repeated.

  “Then what is it?”

  “A miracle.”

  He was still. Then he rolled over to face her. “Is that your conclusion?”

  She nodded. “I don’t know how it happened or why, but it can’t be anything else. I’m confused and scared, but I was lying there in the hospital thinking, and it came to me that you can’t argue or reject a miracle. You just have to accept it.” She said hesitantly, “At least, I do. You have to make your own decision.”