A Man to Remember (19 page)

She nodded again, her head whirling with the events of the day and strange instructions from Jake. Her hands gripped on his. "Please tell me what this is about, Jake. Don't keep me in the dark any longer."

Jake pulled back away from her, away from her clinging touch. "I told you I'm involved in things that would frighten you, Alyse. Now don't ask any more questions, and for God's sake, don't call in your damned family lawyer. I don't want anyone brought into this. James is the only one who can help me now."

"But I want to do something while I'm here. Won't you let me—"?

His brown eyes hardened. "You can't help me, Alyse. If anything, you're a hindrance. Now do as I say, and get the hell out of here!"

She sucked in her sobs and stepped backward, moving slowly away from him. He was like a different man, an angry, bitter person. He was not the loving man who'd made sweet, passionate love to her, who'd shopped for toys for his kids and asked what to say to his daughter on her birthday. Was this really Jake? The Jake she remembered… and loved?

As if in a daze, Alyse slipped past the still-sleeping guard and left the jail. Sergeant Gomez and Carmen were still chatting on the porch, but she ignored them. She had her orders from Jake: "Get the hell out of here."

In frustration she walked the beach, through the shopping district, and finally stopped at a small Chinese restaurant for soup and tea. It seemed strange to be eating Chinese food in Mexico, but then it was preposterous to know that Jake was sitting in jail right now and not here with her. Furthermore, he didn't want her help. Didn't want anything more to do with her. His words haunted her.

"You're a hindrance to me!" This was what she had feared all along, that he wouldn't need her. It was just happening sooner than she had expected.

She wandered down to the pier where the Skye Command was moored. It bobbed contentedly. So beautiful in the twilight. So calm and welcoming. A floating refuge. She boarded the craft and went below. There were the kids' gifts piled in the corner: piñatas, paper flowers, sombreros, tee shirts emblazoned with fish leaping from the sea and colorful sunsets and surfers battling huge waves.

What would happen to these presents intended for his children? Who would give them? James? She knew better. Maybe James would eventually help Jake, but not until several more days and nights in the jail. What would happen to Jake in the meantime? Another day, another night in the hands of his captors, and who knew what condition Jake would be in? It was a frightening situation.

Alyse knew instinctively that her favorite heroine, Bristol Bordeaux, wouldn't leave the man she loved in a Mexican jail without first trying to get him out. In fact, there had been a similar situation in a story of hers set in Greece. Bristol had used her wits to overcome the odds and spring her lover from the jail.

At that moment Alyse knew she had to try. But try what? At the present she really didn't know. However, she had to do something more than sit on a wooden bench all night and wait.

And the thought of flying out of San Lucas without Jake was not the answer for her. Only if she failed completely in her attempts to help him.

Alyse rose from the settee more determined than ever. One thing she knew for sure: She loved Jake Bronson, and she could not leave him here.

As she ambled slowly away from the Skye Command, Alyse felt that the sturdy yacht was their only way out. They didn't have to have a damned, pesky water pump. They would just have to make do without running water. Sure, it would be inconvenient to have no showers or flushing. But that was better than the alternative of hanging around here any longer.

Alyse returned to the hotel with a new and determined lift to her head. But when she opened the door to the hotel room, she reeled with dismay. "Oh, damn!"

The sparse, neat room was a shambles, turned inside out quite methodically. Alyse checked through the mess, and as best as she could determine, none of their personal belongings had been taken. Obviously the looter was searching for something specific.

The box!

She dashed to where she had hidden it. Sighing with relief, she saw that it was still there, in a niche of pipes behind the toilet.

Thank you, Bristol Bordeaux, she thought with a smug little smile.

Her hand caressed the intricately carved surface of mahogany. Apparently this simple little box was quite valuable to someone else besides Jake. But why? Did they want the jewels, which were obviously worth thousands of dollars? Or the box itself? Or something hidden . . .

Alyse set to work righting the room. She had lots of thinking to do and plans to make. She had to decide how to accomplish her difficult goal and get them both home safely. Remembering their private conversations, she realized it had been Jake's goal all along. Now it was Alyse's goal, too. And she wanted it with all her heart.

The two Mexican Army officers met over dinner in the general's plush private dining room. "They think they may have him in Cabo San Lucas."

"Ah, good."

"Somehow I doubt it is the one we seek."

"Why?"

"This man they have picked up is American."

"Could the one we seek possibly be American? In our army?"

"Possibly, but not likely."

"You know what that means if he is the same. This is greater than simple desertion. What makes them think this is the man?"

"He follows the description. But this man had a beard. When they shaved him, he looked like the photos of Silvio Juarez."

"And if he is not? You say he is American?"

"The man they have in jail claims he is from El Paso, Texas."

"We could be embarrassed by this if the police are wrong."

"Or we could be congratulated if they are right."

"Yes. When will we know?"

"Someone from our office should go down to identify him sometime this week."

"Or next week?"

Both men laughed.

"Or the next. It doesn't matter, for this man is safely in jail in Cabo San Lucas. Where does one go from there?"

"Only to fall off the end of the earth. Or into the sea!"

Raucous laughter drifted down the hall.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The next morning, Alyse decided to check once more on the water pump. When he saw her, the bronze-faced shopkeeper beamed, probably in relief that Jake wasn't with her. "You will be very happy today, señorita. The water pump, she arrived this morning!" He reached beneath the counter, pulled out a box, and displayed it proudly.

Alyse had never been so happy to see a piece of machinery. She paid the man in American dollars, which pleased him tremendously. Then she decided they might need a little more insurance, so she pulled him aside and slid an extra tip into his palm. "Listen, señor, if anyone comes around here asking about us, you know nothing, right?"

"The water pump is a secret, señorita?" He looked puzzled.

"Yes," she answered seriously. "Well, not so much the water pump but we are. The boat. Everything. Remember, you know nothing about a water pump that was purchased by an American couple. That is the secret."

"Ah." He nodded and slipped the extra money into his pocket.

She wondered how long her secret would remain. "Now do you know a good boat mechanic who can install this pump properly?"

"Yes, my cousin Carlos can do a fine job."

"I need him right away, not mañana."

"Yes, señorita. I will send for him."

"Tell him to meet me at the Skye Command. She's moored at the end of the pier."

The shopkeeper disappeared into the back room, and Alyse could hear him instructing someone to fetch Carlos pronto!

While Carlos installed the water pump, Alyse worked to get the Skye Command ready to go. She made sure they had enough bottled water and canned goods, for they might not have time to restock. There was last minute shopping for fresh fruit and tortillas and beer. Then she stored the gifts they'd bought for Jake's kids and made the place as seaworthy as possible.

When Carlos finished installing the water pump, she paid him handsomely and warned him not to reveal any information. That should keep Carlos and his uncle quiet long enough for her purposes.

Alyse nibbled a piece of cheese rolled in a flour tortilla for lunch and let her eyes roam the cabin while her mind raced. Now have I done everything? Checked out of the hotel, hid the box of jewels, replenished food and supplies, even had the water pump installed. Now all she had to do was to get Jake.

No, wait! The gun! Jake had told her to get rid of it, and she'd completely forgotten about it. She dug around in the bilge until she found the thing. Her hand closed around the hard, cold metal, and she shivered involuntarily. Okay, toss it, she thought. Then another thought occurred: What if. . . what if they needed it? If the weapon was in the bottom of the ocean, it couldn't help a bit.

One never knew, as Bristol was fond of saying, when small items could be used for big chores. Alyse stuffed the gun into her bra. Then she scrambled to her bookshelf and pulled out Bristol Bordeaux and the Isle Treasure. Frantically she thumbed the pages. It was here; she knew it was. She remembered the scene well. It was the same old, solid jail. Made of brick. No windows. No way to escape, save a bulldozer or wrecking ball or dynamite. Or possibly all three. Here! Here it is! Her finger trembled as she traced the lines.

Bristol gazed sadly at her client, slumped, semiconscious, in the corner of the squalid jail. After last night he had become more than a client; he was her lover. And she did not intend to let them destroy him. He was too precious to her. They'd already beaten and tortured him and would return to do it again to extract the information they wanted from him. She had to get him out of there as soon as possible.

But how? A lone woman in a foreign country, no friends, no allies, no help from any source. The jailhouse was an impregnable fortress of brick and mortar and looked impossible to breach. But somehow she must.

Bristol walked outside the building, around it, sizing it up. She had no bulldozer, no wrecking ball, no dynamite, and especially no time! All she had was her own cunning instinct, her manipulative feminine wiles. At this point of near desperation Bristol knew she would use any tactic necessary to save him. She would do anything to free him!

It pained her to see what they'd already done to his magnificent body, to his handsome face. She couldn't stand the thoughts of what they might do to him next. If she left him there much longer, they might kill him. That chilling realization spurred her to initiate her plan posthaste.

Shortly thereafter Bristol approached the impenetrable jail dressed in…

Alyse slammed the book closed and flung open the small hanging closet and sorted through for just the right effect. "Ah, yes," she murmured, pressing the colorful items against her breast. "This will be just the trick!"

Jake picked at his food. He tried to eat in order to keep up his strength, but the meal was horrible.

The jailer, though, was having no trouble devouring it. He slurped the greasy chicken chunks off the bone and stuffed them into his mouth with his chubby fingers. Then he tossed the bones through a tiny barred window at the end of the hall. He laughed at the sounds of growling dogs outside, groveling for the bones. It became a game, this gnawing the chicken and tossing the bones out the window and listening for the dogs.

Jake watched the procedure dully, his elbows resting on his thighs, his hands hanging weakly between his widespread knees. He'd spent a hellish night, constantly alert to the possible return of those who demanded information. He'd been barely able to sleep. And now he felt like hell. But he had to hang on, had to retain his sense of balance and alertness. Oh, God, how he needed to get out of this place. But how? It was solid.

No, he would just have to wait for James. Maybe today or tomorrow James would come. Alyse should be there by now. She should have already contacted James. Perhaps they were meeting at this minute to transfer the jewels.

Alyse. He tried not to think of her. But his mind was playing tricks on him. Right now, as miserable as he was, she represented warmth and softness and a degree of innocence that were his mental refuge. Thoughts of her kept him sane. Kept him thinking and alert. Reminded him of a better life outside this jail cell if he'd just hang on. Right now, though, she seemed to be another world away.

Jake stood and did leaning push-ups against the brick wall. The roughness beneath his fingers reminded him of her softness and how smooth her skin was against his. Oh, God, he wanted to touch her again.

The jailer's rude laughter broke into Jake's reverie. He watched silently as the huge man rumbled down the hall and picked up the bones that had fallen short of sailing through the bars. Chuckling, he tossed them out the window, and the dogs' uproar rose again.

"Gomez," Jake said. "What am I waiting for?"

"For positive identification."

"Identification for what?"