Anacacho, An Allie Armington Mystery (26 page)

It’s past four and Paul is asleep. After
picking at his lunch while waiting for the Quaaludes to act, he
finally lurched down the hall and, still fully-clothed, collapsed
on top of his bed. If he keeps this up much longer, he’ll be down
to skin and bones.

The only thing left for me to do is take a
long soak in the tub. I’m just about to nod off in my steaming
cocoon when I hear the whine of a jet overhead followed by hurried
footsteps and rapid knocking on Paul’s bedroom door.

Miguel’s voice thunders in my ear. “Jefe?
Jefe? Señor Carpenter? Please wake up. El Patrón is landing.”

My escape chances have just been cut to
zero.

I hear Paul groan. “He wasn’t due ’til
tomorrow, dammit. Keep him entertained while I grab a quick shower
and shave.”

Miguel’s footsteps fade and seconds later, I
feel a rush of air and turn to see Paul, still in his rumpled work
clothes, standing in the doorway to my closet.

I draw my knees to my chest in an attempt to
cover myself and force a smile. “I hear we have visitors.”

He stares at me for a few dazed seconds.
“Yeah. I didn’t expect Ramón until tomorrow. Not to worry. I’m sure
Adelena can easily set a third place.”

He flashes that captivating smile. “Can you
believe it? Ramón asked to serve as my best man.”

I bite my tongue and smile back. What can I
say? Paul is in control—for now.

“
By the way, I have some
things for you in my closet. Sort of a trousseau. Towel off and
pick something out while I shower.” He retreats through the door,
shedding his shirt as he goes.

In the hall I hear several voices engaged in
muffled conversation interspersed with deep laughter. Ramón is not
alone.

I do a quick calculation. Five empty guest
rooms. Ten guests at most. My grand plan is crumbling by the
minute.

Mind mired in shock, I dry, then wrap the
towel around me and step into Paul’s closet. To one side of his
business suits hang three identical long cotton dresses in cerise,
aqua, and maize. They have capped sleeves, a square neck, a tight
bodice, with moderate fullness from waist to floor. The fabric has
been stitched into fine lines that elongate the appearance. All
would flatter my dark hair and complexion. I choose the maize.

After I twist my hair into a French knot and
pull a few fetching tendrils down the back of my neck, I slip into
the dress.

Paul appears again through the closet door
to stand behind me. “These pale in comparison to you.” He produces
a string of heavy black pearls and drapes them around my neck. When
he clasps the choker, they clutch my neck like a noose.

“
Oh, Paul.” My words
contain no joy, only the hopelessness of a desperate
woman.

Ignoring my bleat, he kneels beside me,
pulls a large single matching pearl from his pocket and slides it
on my engagement finger.

“
I’ve been waiting for
this moment forever. Come. I can’t wait for you to meet
Ramón.”

Paul offers me his hand and we walk down the
long, wide hall. As a glimpse of my grim future flashes before me,
my senses hone. The alabaster sconces spaced on each side of the
hall give a soft glow I’d never noticed before. The geometric
pattern of the oriental runner beneath our feet leaps up in bright
rusts and vibrant blues. A pair of half-moon tables in the entry
hall seem larger now that they bear vases laden with pale pink
peonies.

The pungent odor of a cigar wafts through
the wide opening into the living room, where Miguel, dressed in
black leather pants, a matching bolero jacket, and a high-necked
white shirt, holds a silver salver bearing two glasses of
champagne.

Six men dressed in identical pinstripe suits
encircle a man smoking a cigar. There are no women present.

Paul straightens to full height and pulls me
close. “Gentlemen, may I present my bride.”

It’s easy to spot Ramón. He stands several
inches above the rest of his group and strikes a ramrod posture.
Beneath a heavy mane of silver-streaked brown, his narrow face
bears an aristocratic look.

He steps from the midst of his companions,
hand extended. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

I have no choice but to place my hand in
his. In one smooth motion, he turns it and brushes it with air.

I nod and murmur, “And I you.”

Ramón turns to Paul. “Soft-spoken as well.
What a surprise these days.”

I meet the rest of Ramón’s entourage. They
don’t look like drug traffickers, but have they come this distance
just to attend a wedding? I think not.

The silence is almost suffocating. Every man
is staring at me like a circle of waiting vultures. I turn to see
Paul’s jaw flexing. It’s obvious he feels the tension. When his
hand becomes a vise, I wince, then smile up at him. “I’d love some
champagne.”

He jerks to attention. “Of course, darling.
Pardon my bad manners.” He flashes his disarming smile and releases
my hand as Miguel offers us a glass.

Ramón raises his in salute. “A toast to the
bride and groom to be.”

The men follow his lead, then resume their
conversations, leaving the three of us an island in their
midst.

I can’t help but notice the contrast between
the two men. Ramón, cool and unconcerned; Paul anxious and
tense.

Luke Hansen, dressed in the same pinstripe
as the others, saves the moment by rushing through the front door.
Paul said Luke cleaned up pretty good when necessary. If this is
his best, he’s failed. He looks like head bouncer in a sleazy
nightclub.

He acknowledges me and Ramón with a courtly
bow. “Pardon me, Patrón, Señorita, but I need a few moments of
Jefe’s time.”

Ramón nods and smiles. “Take all the time
you like, Luke. I will be delighted to entertain Miss
Armington.”

He waits until Paul and Luke disappear, then
motions for Miguel to top our glasses.

When Miguel moves away, Ramón waves his hand
toward the open French doors. “Would you mind stepping onto the
verandah with me?”

The soft night air, with a slight breeze
from the west, is laden with delicious aromas from Adelena’s
kitchen. The horizon, a black endless scape crowned by a tiara of
pink-gold clouds. Under any other circumstances it would be a
picture-book evening.

Ramón leads me to a seating area at the far
end of the verandah, motions me to sit, and settles beside me. “I
don’t have much time to talk, Miss Armington, so please don’t
interrupt until I’m finished.”

He leans toward me and speaks in a low
voice. “It is unfortunate Paul chose this particular time to bring
you here. Of course, he’s been rambling on for months about how he
planned to make you his bride, but I must confess I gave his words
little credence. The family business presents many more daily
pressing issues than the delusional ravings of a cokehead.”

“
That’s a little harsh,
don’t you think?”

“
Perhaps, but I’m sure
you’re aware there is little room for addicts in this business.
Cuts into the profits.”

He smiles at his small joke, then must read
the disgust on my face. “I’m not surprised you disapprove.”

“
I used to make my living
putting people in your business behind bars.”

Ramón raises one brow. “In Mexico young boys
in the barrios see narcotics as their only way out. We have become
the heroes of our poor, downtrodden society. Have you not heard of
the many narco-corridos written about us?”

“
Narco? Corridos? I don’t
get the meaning.”

“
Drug ballads. In those
songs the drug smugglers are celebrated for their wiliness, vigor,
and notoriety—qualities that are highly valued in our culture.
These men are lauded also for their manliness, courage, sincerity,
and sense of fair play.”

I recoil at each proudly spoken word, then
shoot back, “Exemplary terms, to be sure, but I believe they’re
better known as bribery, coercion, corruption, and killing.”

To my surprise, he laughs. “You have great
spirit, Miss Armington. So, I will simply concede, Cada uno a lo
suyo.”

He waits for me to react, then translates,
“Each to its own.”

I give him my stoniest stare. “Though Paul
has performed reasonably well, we have been aware of his growing
excesses for quite some time. A change in management was planned,
but there seemed to be no rush since he was being well
monitored.

“
If only we had known his
plans were this far along. Believe me, Miss Armington, we would
have stepped in sooner and saved you this little inconvenience.
Naturally, the minute Luke contacted me, I initiated immediate
steps to rectify the situation. Unfortunately, sudden inroads into
our territory by a rival family have prompted us to make some hasty
decisions and this evening is the first opportunity we had to
follow through.

“
We are shutting down this
operation immediately. As we speak, Luke and his men are placing
the important records in the jet and destroying others. The workers
will be transported to another location as soon as they’ve enjoyed
their fiesta. We’ll all be leaving tonight after
dinner.”

This man is talking about springing me.
Still, I can’t help but think back to that terrible day when I went
to the Anacacho, only to discover it stripped bare. Will it happen
here? Will Paul’s life, as he so carefully planned it, dissolve
into thin air?

Ramón’s voice creeps through my thoughts.
“Sad to say, Paul is no longer of use to the family. We hoped he
would be able to restrain his intake, but, as you know, he is
totally out of control and therefore a great liability.”

The “no longer of use to the family” turns
my spine to Jello. There’s only one remedy for that.

“
Surely, Paul can be
cured.”

Ramón gives me a paternal smile. “Of course,
of course. A cure is exactly what the family wants for Paul. He has
served us well and we pride ourselves in our loyalty.”

In a pig’s poke. I check to be sure my
agreeable face is still on. Now is not the time to look a possible
escape hatch in the mouth.

“
Now, for tonight. I am
assured that they cannot possibly make it here until midday
tomorrow. So, we will enjoy a fine meal before we head in our
respective directions.”

He sets his glass aside. “This is where you
come in. We plan to sedate Paul during the meal. You must accompany
him to his bedroom and remain beside him until we are ready to
move. We cannot afford to alarm him. That could compound the
trouble.”

“
What kind of
trouble?”

“
We don’t expect any. Our
intelligence is very accurate.”

I search his face, wondering if he knows
about the Feds. “What happens to me?”

“
You will come with
us.”

Magic words. Almost unbelievable, but I need
to hear a second confirmation. “Are you offering me a way out?”

“
Absolutely.”

“
That’s a relief. Because
I planned to leave here tonight come hell or high
water.”

“
On foot?”

“
I was hoping to borrow a
horse.”

“
Either option is equally
foolish, Miss Armington. Neither you nor a horse would last long
enough to make the border. Surely, you must realize
that.”

“
I realize I’d rather be
dead than live this existence.” “Remarkable.”

I know I’m on shaky ground, but I race on.
“Adelena and Miguel were also brought here against their wills.
Adelena is frantic to contact her family, and Miguel’s mother was
very ill when they were taken. I promised them if I could get away,
I would come back.”

“
You were very brave to
make such a promise. How can you be sure you could keep
it?”

“
I’m not brave. Adelena
and Miguel have kept me sane during my brief imprisonment. I’d do
anything for them.”

Ramón nods. “I am touched by your concern
for Miguel and his wife. They will be safely returned. You have my
word.”

I want to believe him. Crooked as his
operation is, he seems to have some sort of code of ethics. It
doesn’t really matter. If he’s offering me a way out of here, I
intend to take it.

“
It seems we have
concluded our business.” Ramón rises and offers his hand. “After
Paul is placed on the jet, change into something comfortable. Bring
only what you can carry.”

He touches the pearls at my neck. “Don’t
forget these. Paul paid a pretty price for them.”

I gasp at his suggestion. “But they belong
to Paul.”

“
He won’t need them. Just
think of them as a little memento of your ordeal.”

THE DINING TABLE, SET FOR TWELVE with gold-rimmed
crystal and china, glows beneath the wrought-iron chandelier.
Gracing the center of the long board is a stream of pale pink
peonies spilling from low containers interspersed with twinkling
votives.

I stand mesmerized by the stunning but
surreal setting, as Ramón directs his subordinates to their
places.

He takes Paul’s place at the head of the
table seating me to his right and Paul next to me. Across from me,
Luke Hansen is deep in conversation with the man to his left. His
Tex-Mex is fluent, his gestures, contained. In profile he looks
halfway presentable, but bears a still-sinister shadow of the brute
who killed an innocent cab driver, then spent the whole trip across
South Texas constantly terrorizing me and threatening Jed at every
imagined disobedience.

Miguel and Adelena serve the first course: a
colorful salad of orange and jicama slices topped with a mixture of
white button mushrooms, onions, and celery accented with squeezed
lime and a generous dash of red chili powder.