Malice in Mexico Page 12

  Jack shook his head. “No, we hadn’t heard. We’re shocked. He was such a careful driver. How could it have happened?”

  Barry shook his head. “Who knows? There were no witnesses. Maybe a tire blew, or an animal crossed the road. It was an accident.”

  Claire managed to say good-by, but she felt numb. She nodded at Jack’s suggestion they walk home, instead of taking the bus back. It was probably closer than going to the Biblioteca and then walking home from there. And when he guided her to a chair at a sidewalk café on the edge of the Jardin, she didn’t say anything. The waiter brought her iced tea and she still didn’t say anything.

  “Is it starting?” Her voice was very low and Jack wasn’t sure he heard her correctly. He leaned forward. “What? Is what starting?”

  “You know those terrifying situations I sometimes become embroiled in on my travel adventures?” Her face was pale with anxiety.

  Jack reached over and clasped her hand. “Claire, it was an accident. It could have happened anywhere, to anyone. Let’s just be thankful Kaye suggested we ride home with her or we could have been toast, too.”

  Claire shuddered. “How awful! I don’t even want to think about it.”

  * * *

  “Hillerman here.”

  Kathleen smiled. “KC, Manny. I got your messages. What can I do for you?” She all but purred into the phone.

  “KC, it’s about time. I’ve been trying to reach you. I thought you just disappeared.”

  “No, sorry, I had to go out of town for a few days. Business, you know? But now I’m back and ready to deal. Are you ready?”

  “Hell, that’s why I’ve been calling. My people tested the stuff you gave me and said it was adequate for our needs.”

  Kathleen chuckled. “Adequate? How cute, Manny, but a bit of an understatement I would say, wouldn’t you?”

  There was a pause on the line, and then Manny said, “All right, they said it was the best they had seen. They want more. I want to work out a deal with you to supply us with the stuff.”

  “We can do that. How much are we talking about here?”

  “I could use twenty kilos to start, then we can arrange regular shipments. Can you supply the twenty in a few days?”

  “It will cost you. Forty per kilo.”

  “Forty? That’s ridiculous. I can’t pay that and make money. This isn’t some designer drug you know. Prices have been declining steadily. Users won’t pay that kind of money. You’ll never make it with that price.”

  Kathleen didn’t fall for his ploy, or respond to the whine in his voice. “That’s the price. This is an expensive process, but I know, and I know you know that the quality of this product is good enough for you to earn more than four times your cost by the time it gets on the street. And the prices may be down from the old days, but they’ve been holding steady for years. Quit your whining, Manny. I’m not falling for it.” Her voice was hard. She wasn’t giving him any room to bargain.

  “I need to make sure the quality of the product delivered matches that of the sample,” He said firmly.

  “Not possible. We’re not doing some hokey little exchange out of trunks of cars in back alleys. This is going to be handled like any business transaction. You wire the funds to a certain account in the Cayman Islands, and when I receive confirmation of the deposit, the product will be delivered to the site you stipulate.”

  “What? Are you crazy? I’m not sending eight hundred big ones to some black hole in the banking industry without having the product in my hand. What do you think I am, a fool?”

  “No, Manny,” Kathleen said slowly. “I think you’re a smart businessman. I think you understand our need to develop a relationship of trust and mutual benefit. So how about we do this in smaller pieces? Say five kilos? Then after that transaction and when you’ve determined you’re satisfied with the quality then we’ll do another five. And then another five and another until, maybe sometime in the near future, we can trust each other enough to ship the full amount on a regular schedule.”

  “I don’t like it,” Manny growled into the phone. “I want to make the exchange when I know I have the product in my hand.”

  “Manny, businessmen have to take risks. Are you a businessman or a two-bit hood? I am not sneaking around to make exchanges in dark alleys. I’m going to trust you to do your part.” Kathleen’s voice was carefully modulated, she sounded reasonable and professional.

  “But you aren’t taking the chances,” Manny protested. “You aren’t delivering until you receive the money.”

  “That’s the normal process, Manny. You don’t take delivery of a car you purchased until you pay for it. You trust the dealer to deliver the car you ordered, don’t you? This is the same kind of transaction.” She waited calmly; she knew Manny was desperate to do business with her. She knew from his many and increasingly frantic phone messages he was eager to strike a deal. And he was right; she wasn’t the one taking the risk because she didn’t trust him. She waited now to see if he would cave.

  “All right. Five kilos and if that goes well we’ll arrange for the money for subsequent deliveries. Give me the information on the bank account so I can have the money wired.”

  Kathleen smiled triumphantly. She loved it when she was right. She assured Manny she would fax him the wire instructions, and then they would arrange delivery anywhere in Houston Manny wanted the product delivered. She closed up her cell phone and then raised it in a stiff armed salute over her head as she shouted, “Yeah, one for our side.” After the whole fiasco with the missing frog and the bungled accident involving Jack and Claire, it felt good to have something go her way.

  The thought of Jack and Claire depressed her again. Jack reminded her too much of Reynald Ramosa, her now dead husband. And thoughts of Reynald filled her with conflict, conflict she had never resolved.

  * * *

  Kathleen realized with alarm she had fallen too far behind the rest. She could no longer hear them moving through the thick jungle in front of her. She glanced around nervously and picked up her pace. She needed to catch up, she couldn’t afford to lag behind and not just because she was determined to compete on an equal footing with the other recruits in the group. No, it was because she didn’t dare become vulnerable by being caught alone in the jungle.

  She didn’t know where Toro was, but she was sure he was too close for comfort. He was always too close to her, always watching, always looking for an opportunity to take advantage. She shuddered at the thought of being alone with him. She was tough; she could hold her own in almost any situation, but Toro scared her to death. It was something in his eyes while he watched her. Or maybe it was the way he licked his lips that made her shudder in disgust. She ducked under a vine stretching across the faint trail and looked back over her shoulder.

  Her gun was snatched out of her hands before she turned her head back and there Toro stood, feet akimbo, planted solidly in the trail in front of her.

  “Are you lost, little girl?” he crooned in a sickening voice. “Maybe I could help?” His cruel grin was anything but comforting.

  She straightened up, her hand drifting toward the knife in her belt. “I don’t think I need help, thank you.” She said it softly as she calculated her chances of bolting.

  “Don’t even think about running, little girl. I would just shoot you in the leg and then still have my fun with you.” The muzzle of the automatic rifle was now pointing directly at her.

  “I don’t think you’ll shoot, Toro. The others aren’t that far ahead. The captain would be a little irritated with you for stopping to play when we’re on maneuvers; you know how seriously he takes these exercises.” She hoped the tremor in her voice wasn’t obvious.

  “That prick is too serious,” Toro growled, his scowl deepening. “And by the time they got here it would be too late to save you. It would just be one more accident. Those things happen when you’re playing with guns, you know?”

  She felt a shiver run down her spine, but refus
ed to let him see her fear. “He’ll never buy it. I’m a paying guest. When I’m gone the money stops. He won’t like losing the income, especially because he won’t believe it was an accident.” She thought it sounded good, and she saw Toro was thinking about it, but then he grinned.

  “Sorry, little girl, I’ll worry about that when the time comes. Right now I’m more interested in a little entertainment.”

  He started advancing toward her, his rifle held menacingly in front of him. She backed away slowly, trying to remember every step of the path she had already passed. She didn’t think her skills at kick boxing and judo were going to help her. Toro was too aware of how good she was, he would be watching for her attack and so would counter her moves easily. She still had the knife attached to her belt and the little pistol she had tucked in the holster at her ankle. She would have to use those. She had no illusions about her fate if Toro overpowered her. He would have his fun and then kill her if she wasn’t already dead. Life, other than his own, had no value to Toro. She had realized immediately on meeting him, he was already planning on using her for his own pleasure, and he was a man used to getting what he wanted. He was a pig, she thought, she’d rather die than submit to him.

  “Toro, drop that gun!” The words rang with authority.

  Kathleen saw Toro’s eyes widen with surprise, and then turning his gun in the direction of the voice he squeezed the trigger. Too late, several rapid shots opened his chest. His eyes were still wide with disbelief, staring up through the top of the trees from where he lay.

  Captain Ramosa strolled casually out of the jungle followed by several members of their unit. “This man was not serious about his studies and look what has happened to him. Let that be a lesson to all of you, we take our mission here seriously. We are not playing games. We do not dally in the jungle.” He motioned to two men. “Strip him of personal effects and his weapons. Toss him down that gully we passed back there, the animals will take care of him.”

  He turned and looked at Kathleen. “Well, Sullivan, would you have taken him?”

  “I would have, or died trying.” But she felt the bravo in her words rang a little hollow.

  “Trying isn’t good enough. Before you graduate this course you will know without a doubt you can take any opponent, and you will never let yourself be tricked into being isolated and attacked.” He nodded curtly, pointed at her gun and stepped back on the trail in front of her.

  She picked up her weapon and followed along with the other men. She already was feeling more confident, Captain Ramosa just had a way of making you feel you could do anything.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Whew, it’s hot this afternoon.” Jack sighed as he took out the key to unlock the blue door. “What do you want to do now?”

  Claire looked at the cool shade in the patio and then answered, “Nothing, let’s do nothing. I need to do a little laundry and I have my book to read. Let’s just relax for a while and we can decide about dinner later.”

  “Sounds good. I’m really not in the mood to be social. I’d just as soon finish my book and then we can return it to the Biblioteca tomorrow.”

  They both came to an abrupt stop as they crossed the threshold into the kitchen. It was a total mess, cupboard doors were open and food stuffs were on the counter, some tipped over, some spilled on the floor. Claire, eyes wide, would have rushed into the house, except for Jack’s tight grip on her arm, pulling her gently, but firmly, back.

  “Wait, they might still be here,” he whispered, motioning her to stay there. He crept further into the house, carefully scanning each wrecked room.

  “Claire, come in here, please.” The words were calm, but Claire ran in response to the urgency she heard in his tone.

  She found him bent over a crumpled form at the far side of the dining room. She whispered hoarsely, “Jack? Jack, is it Helen Marie?” Then approaching close enough to see that it was Helen Marie, she managed to choke out, “Is she..., is she...?” She couldn’t even say it, it was just too horrible.

  “No, she’s alive, just unconscious. But I can’t tell how badly she’s hurt. Stay here with her while I call for an ambulance. Then I’ll check out the rest of the house.”

  Claire crouched down beside Helen Marie, praying she would be all right. Who could have done this? Why? She didn’t know what to do for her. She wished she had more first aid skills. Then she remembered you were supposed to keep injured people warm to prevent shock, so she quickly dashed into the living room and found the folded blanket on the floor instead of its usual place on the back of the couch. Dimly she noted that room had also been trashed. The pillows were on the floor, the lamp turned over, books and papers strewn about. Who would have done this, she wondered. Why? She quickly took the blanket back and covered Helen Marie gently.

  It seemed forever, but Claire knew it was only a few minutes before Jack was back at her side.

  “Good, you covered her. The police and the ambulance should be here soon. The house is empty, but someone did a rather thorough job of messing it up. I can’t tell what, but I know there is stuff missing.”

  He jumped at the loud pounding on the door and hurried out to open it. Claire gladly gave up her spot by Helen Marie’s side when the paramedics arrived. Soon they had carefully strapped her on the gurney and prepared to transport her. After a brief discussion with Jack and the policemen, who were now on the scene, it was decided that Claire would go with Helen Marie in the ambulance. Jack would stay and deal with the police. He promised to meet Claire at the hospital as soon as he was able. But before she left, Jack found the little piece of paper he had stuck in his wallet with Helen Marie’s name, address and phone number on it.

  “You’ll probably need this for the hospital, but I’ll call her family Claire, as they may not speak English.” Jack quickly jotted the phone number on a piece of paper he retrieved from the floor before handing the information to Claire.

  She nodded, taking the paper and following the medics, who were wheeling the gurney through the patio.

  * * *

  Claire had memorized every feature of the plain, utilitarian waiting room by the time Jack found her there. In answer to his question she nodded her head toward the three people hovering near the door, darting anxious eyes continuously toward the hall, hoping, no doubt, for the doctor to appear with news.

  “They came about twenty minutes ago, and other than determining they are here for Helen Marie, I haven’t been able to communicate with them.”

  Jack approached them and began talking in a soft voice. They responded gratefully. Jack beckoned her over. “Claire, this is Helene, Manual and Oscar. Oscar is Helen Marie’s husband, Manual is her brother and Helene is her niece.”

  Claire smiled, shook hands and said to Jack, “Tell them how sorry we are about what happened to Helen Marie. Tell them they wheeled Helen Marie into surgery about an hour and a half ago. We can only wait and pray.”

  Jack dutifully translated. The three responded with concerned expressions and nods, before sitting back down and resuming their wait.

  Jack and Claire sat opposite Helen Marie’s family while Jack told Claire about the police search of the house.

  “They think the people who did this either knocked on the gate and Helen Marie opened it, or overpowered her when she used her key to go in, because they didn’t find any signs of forced entry. The policeman in charge told me they have very little of this type of crime. He seemed very surprised by the whole incident. But I will say he acted very professional and was quite thorough.”

  Claire shivered. “I suppose that should make us feel better? That it rarely happens? That poor Helen Marie was just in the way?”

  Jack put his arm around her and gave her a comforting hug. “I don’t think that’s what he meant. He seemed certain it wasn’t locals. He will be questioning Helen Marie as soon as she’s able to talk to him, but he seems to think who ever was responsible for this was someone from out of town. He wanted to know if we were carrying a
lot of jewelry or cash. And he questioned me closely about drugs.”

  Claire looked at Jack surprised. “He thinks we’re in the drug business?”

  Jack nodded, solemnly. “I suspect he does. He didn’t actually say that, but he inferred we must be involved with something worth their attention.”

  “Oh Jack, I should have listened to you. You said traveling with me wasn’t safe. First Raphael is killed and now Helen Marie has been beaten, and we don’t even know how badly she has been hurt.”

  “Whoa, now Claire. You’re taking on a lot of responsibility for what could just be random acts. What makes you think what happened to Raphael has anything to do with the break-in and damage done to Helen Marie?” Jack looked at her intently. “Aren’t you just being a little paranoid?”

  Claire was embarrassed. “You don’t think so? Don’t you think they’re connected? I mean, both of these things happened so close together?”

  “The only connection I see is that we know both of them and so we’re peripherally involved. We have no reason to think Raphael’s accident was anything but that.”

  Claire nodded, thinking.

  “And we don’t know that this break-in had anything to do with us, perhaps it was somebody following Helen Marie. Perhaps it was somebody who had targeted the Pruitts’ house. And we just happened to be staying there at the time.”

  Claire sat up straighter. Just hearing Jack being sensible made her feel better.

  “But, Claire, since we do know about your past experience in traveling, I agree it would be prudent for us to be vigilant to make sure neither of these occurrences have anything to do with us. That we didn’t cause them in some way.”

  Before Claire could respond to that statement the doctor entered the waiting room, still clad in his scrubs. He went immediately to the family members, now eagerly on their feet, hoping to hear good news.