Betrayed (14 page)

“Well?” Vicki prompted Michael when the serving girl had carried the dishes away. “Holly said I was right. That can only mean what I’d said about someone in her project, someone local, being the one who was ripping the center off. And she was trying to tell me that was who’d attacked her. So you see why I can’t just let this go. At the least, I want to see the full transcripts of the investigation. Who she talked to last. What her final days and hours were. What exactly was in the autopsy report. What kind of weapon was used. Surely they did that much.”

Michael didn’t answer immediately. When he did, the grimness of his mouth relaxed into a sardonic half-smile. “I was wrong. You really are Holly’s sister, aren’t you? You’ve got the same bulldog streak when you want to find something out.”

Vicki felt her face burning. “For that matter, what was it she wanted to meet you about? That is . . . I mean, if it wasn’t something personal. I . . . I just thought, maybe it had something to do with all this.”

The sardonic line of his mouth curved to a full smile. “Not at all. I knew your sister only casually. We’d crossed paths at a few expat functions.”

“Then why did she want to talk to you so urgently?”

“That we may never know,” Michael said soberly. “I ran into her briefly on a field op in the Sierra de las Minas biosphere, just days before that airport run-in. That was the first time she mentioned wanting to speak to me. I told her to give me a call when she came into town. As to her reasons, I assume it was something related to my official capacity at the embassy, since I did not know her personally, nor am I so conceited to think a woman would be making excuses just to talk to me.”

Yeah, right
. Did this guy really not know just how attractive that rueful smile was? “Exactly what would that official capacity be? You keep mentioning field ops. Why would a homicide unit be doing field ops in the biosphere? For that matter, isn’t the DAO connected with the military, not the police?”

“No, not the homicide unit.” Michael shook his head. “My principal mission is actually right down your line—or rather your sister’s. I’ve been helping in the development of the newest branch of the PNC—Policía Nacional Civil. The Unidad de Protección de la Naturaleza or UPN. ‘Environmental Protection Unit’ in English. The military base from which the unit has conducted its last several training missions is right on the perimeter of the biosphere. And quite close as well to WRC’s rescue facility up there, which is how I happened to run across your sister.

“As to why DAO, naturally the embassy has civilian police advisors in this as well. But there’s a lot narrower dividing line between military and police down here than back home. In fact, until recently, the police force here
was
under the military. UPN will be responsible for policing all the national reserves as well as enforcing the environmental protection laws, and that mission includes a lot of elements that are more military than law enforcement. Border enforcement and smuggling interdiction. Patrol and surveillance of large territories.”

"Then  this new unit is more military than police?” Vicki remembered the photo on the police chief’s wall. “I mean, what difference does it make what you call it if they’re all the same people anyway?” 

“There are a lot of former military,” Michael admitted. “And that’s not all bad. The peace accords slashed the army by a third. If we want that to stick, those people are going to need civilian employment. Of course that is part of the mission—teaching them to apply civilian parameters of law and human rights to their procedures.

“On the flip side, trained soldiers already have a lot of the very skills UPN’s mission will entail. Not to mention narcotics interdiction. My unit has already been responsible for shutting down a number of illegal cultivations and drug ops in protected areas. In fact, they were recently decorated for their efforts.”

The pieces suddenly clicked. “You were at the airport that day with the US drug czar. Lynn, one of Holly’s friends, mentioned the awards ceremony. Dieter’s going to love you.”

At Michael’s raised eyebrow, Vicki amplified, “Another of Holly’s tree-hugger friends. Greenpeace. He was complaining that they needed some serious environmental enforcement presence in the biosphere.” She studied him. “So did Holly know what kind of field ops you were involved in up there?”

“Probably. News travels, and like I said, the fact that Holly chose me to approach would indicate she knew of my connection.”

“In all this discussion and investigation, it never occurred to you to bring this up till now?” Vicki demanded with some heat.

Michael spread his hands, palms up, but there was no apology in his expression. “It was the briefest of contacts and of no particular relevance to an expat mugging here in the capital. I made every effort to follow up with her, but reports of poaching in the biosphere and local corruption are hardly big news. Nor do they fall within any scope of embassy involvement. Now, though, if I get you those transcripts, can I count on you to get on tonight’s flight out and leave this to the professionals?”

“Professionals,” Vicki scoffed. “Your police buddies?”

“No, me. I
will
follow up on this. If there’re any merits to your theory, I’ll find them. And you can rest assured I’ll communicate with you anything that emerges. Is it a deal?”

“Well, I certainly can’t fly out tonight. Tomorrow is Holly’s memorial service. Or funeral actually now that the . . .” Vicki couldn’t put it into words. No wonder people used euphemisms for death. “Now that the paperwork has come through. That’s the only good that’s come out of this.”

“Memorial service?”

“Yes, at the Union Church. The embassy circulated an invitation to the expat community.”

“I just got back from that op this afternoon, remember?” Michael said. “So you’re having the burial here? I assumed you’d be flying home to your family.”

“We don’t really have family Stateside,” Vicki answered simply. “Besides, Holly is—was—a strong proponent of cremation. It’s the only plan she ever made for a funeral.”

Vicki could remember that conversation only too well, as much because it was so typically Holly as for the occasion. They’d just endured the second funeral in a year—Mom Andrews—at the city cemetery where generations of Andrews were buried. “Dirt to dirt is right,” an eighteen-year-old Holly had defiantly informed Vicki. “So why do we waste so much of the planet’s resources and its land trying to slow down the process instead of contributing to the circle of life we’re created to be part of? When the day comes that I don’t need this body anymore, I want to be cremated and spread out as fertilizer for the prettiest spot on the planet I can find. You remember that, Vicki, if I happen to go first, which I’ve no intention of doing for a good long time.”

Michael put in tersely, “Fine, then as soon as it’s over, you’ll be on that flight.”

“Why? If you really believe maybe I’m not so crazy, that it wasn’t just some mara who shot Holly, why in the world would I want to pick up and leave now?”

Michael’s tone was bleak. “I’m not saying you’re right. In fact, like you said earlier, I really do hope Holly was a victim of some random
mara
assault.”

As Vicki stared at him, his voice grew harsher. “Don’t you get it? If this wasn’t a
mara
, if it was someone Holly actually knew, then you’re talking someone a lot more influential—and dangerous—than some street thug. Which is why I want you on that plane, because personally, I don’t want to see you end up just like your sister.”

Chapter Ten

“
This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair
. . . .”

Vicki kept her eyes, wide and unblinking, on the stained-glass window at the front of the sanctuary as the harmonious chords, contributed by volunteers from Guatemala City’s Union Church, rose to the vaulted ceiling. The small round glass mosaic was of Jesus kneeling in prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. Something in the patient sorrow the artist had somehow captured in that two-dimensional image conflicted with the jubilation of the song and shook Vicki’s control, blurred her focus.

Just don’t think. Don’t feel. I can get through this
.

“
This is my Father’s world, O let me ne’er forget that though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the Ruler yet
.”

 As the last triumphant chord faded, Vicki smoothed her skirt down over her knees with damp palms. She was wearing the black dress she’d tucked in her luggage for those inevitable occasions when it became necessary to mingle with local dignitaries. This was not where she’d expected to wear it.

Vicki walked to a lectern at the front of the church. Next to it an easel held an enlarged photo of Holly cradling a baby jaguarondi. In front of the sanctuary platform, a closed casket was smothered in flower displays. Vicki didn’t look toward it. The ornate hardwood box with its flowered offerings had nothing to do with the exuberant live person that was her sister. It was just a focal point for the stares of this assembly of strangers.

There were far more of these than she’d expected, given the shortness of notice and limited acquaintances either Holly or Vicki had in this country. Almost all the seats in the sanctuary were full.

Vicki recognized faces from that airport party—Lynn, Dieter, Bill, and Joe. Evelyn had come as well and a surprising number of Casa de Esperanza volunteers, considering none had ever met Holly. Marion Whitfield was here, red power suit toned down to gray, with half a dozen others doing their duty as embassy representatives. Michael Camden was not among them.

Vicki had no idea who the rest were. Expatriates, for the most part. Maybe members of the English-speaking church. Vicki knew Holly had attended here on occasion when she was in the capital. However at odds the various aid and environmental and multinational organizations might be, in times like this, business and politics were tacitly laid aside, leaving simply compatriots banding together in a strange land. One of their own had died. They were here to lend their support. That was all that mattered.

Vicki’s gaze fell on a row of local police and military dignitaries in khaki uniforms at the back of the sanctuary. Was this to pay honor to a high-profile death in their country or some kind of apology for incompetence? Among them, Vicki recognized the chief of police. He was in full dress uniform, with medals and ribbons, and under his dark unflinching gaze, she felt chilled.

I can’t do this
. Vicki forced herself to focus on her typed notes. Catching Evelyn’s encouraging nod from the first row, she took a deep breath, her fingers turning white where they gripped the sides of the lectern. “I’m Vicki Andrews, Holly’s sister. If you knew Holly, than you understand why I asked the choir to sing this particular song.”

The words in front of Vicki were beginning to clear, and she managed to relax her grip. “It’s not a song I would have chosen. While Holly and I are sisters, we are as different as—well, tree huggers and people huggers. To be honest, I never really understood Holly’s fascination with plants and animals above people. We spent a number of years as children on a farm, and it was there Holly’s interest in environmental issues was born and the path that led her to the Wildlife Rescue Center. It was there too where she used to drive me crazy singing the song the choir just finished. It became her theme song as she became a veterinarian and got involved in environmental issues.

“But the truth is, for all her talk about saving the planet, that was never really what she was about for one very simple reason: she believed that song. She believed with all her heart that this was her heavenly Father’s world. A world created by an almighty God who really cared about His creation. And she was always optimistic that no matter how much wrong was out there, the world itself was quite safe already in the hands of the Father who created and ruled it.

“I was never so hopeful about that, but I appreciated it in her even when her enthusiasms about trees or animals drove me up a wall. If Holly never bought that we humans were big enough to destroy a world God created, she felt strongly that it was our responsibility to tend that world and keep it beautiful. That’s why she came to this country. She thought this was one of the most beautiful spots on the planet, and she wanted to make a difference by keeping people from trashing it. In the end, her fight to do that lasted only three months before she herself became a casualty.”

The page was swimming before Vicki’s eyes again, and she tightened her grip on the edges of the lectern. “I’m not a tree hugger. But Holly’s life made sense to me. Her death makes none!”

Vicki lifted her eyes. Most faces were somber, even expressionless, leaving no hint as to how her words were being received. Then her gaze clashed with stony stares from the back row.

Her voice faltered, then hardened. “But I intend to make sense of it. I won’t leave this country until I find out what happened to my sister. So if any of you have any information about what Holly was doing during that last night or week, please contact me. Thank you.” Abruptly picking up her notes, she walked to her seat.

Behind her, with some confusion, the choir broke back into “
This Is My Father’s World
.”

Vicki was sinking down next to Evelyn when she saw the commotion in the back. The police chief and at least half the khaki uniforms were marching out the back door.

Others came forward to pay tribute to Holly, including a young blonde woman whose Australian drawl Vicki recognized as the Alison she’d spoken with on the phone.

A government official with the Ministry of Environment called Vicki forward to receive an award bestowed on
la americana
who’d given her life to serve Guatemala’s environment. Only as he held up the shiny medal did Vicki take in the flash of cameras.
Great, so my sister’s funeral had turned into a government PR event
.

Don’t think
, Vicki reminded herself fiercely.
Don’t feel. Don’t cry
.

Then the service was over. Under the Union Church pastor’s discreet direction, Vicki stood beside Holly’s photo, numbly receiving condolences from more strangers. At some point the government official pressed her hand, whispering something solicitous, and Vicki caught again the flash of a camera before he swept down the aisle toward the sanctuary exit, news crews at his heels.

As the crowd dissipated, Lynn, the Amazon Watch ecologist, approached Vicki. Dieter was behind her. He offered Vicki only a curt nod. So he hadn’t forgiven her for her contradictory opinions.

Lynn squeezed both of Vicki’s hands. “You pegged Holly just right. She had me humming that song myself. She was always so enthusiastic. It was part of what made her so sweet.”

She released Vicki’s hands to pat her shoulder. “Please know your sister isn’t gone. I’ve never been sure whether I believe in reincarnation or a higher existence, but I’m sure she’s happy, wherever she is.”

Vicki murmured a polite reply. Her head was beginning to pound unmercifully, and she was grateful to find her hand folded suddenly in a very large grasp and a tall, broad frame inserting itself between Vicki and the lingering mourners to give her breathing space.

That gratitude lasted only long enough for a grim voice to drawl above her head, “Quite a challenge you threw down there, Ms. Andrews. You sure that was wise?”

Vicki’s gaze traveled up a purple-splotched tie until her head tilted far back. She’d forgotten how tall Joe was. The height and broad-shouldered power of his frame at the moment seemed ready to burst the constraints of that surprisingly conservative dark gray suit. Maybe it was the restless energy of his body language, the long fingers tugging at the tie knot, already ruffling the slick-backed neatness of his mane that made the space around them seem cramped.

Withdrawing her fingers, Vicki asked coldly, “And why wouldn’t it be? Is there something wrong with wanting to find out what happened to my sister?”

“The top brass back there sure didn’t seem too happy with your assessment.”        

“I wasn’t challenging them. I was just—”

“Hey, I’m with you.” Joe raised a hand. “I’m not too fond of the local authorities in any country. I’m just saying announcing on public television that you’re going to do the job they’re not—that might not be the best way to get some cooperation.”

Joe’s tone softened. “Hey, I didn’t mean to be abrupt. I’m not good at these things, but I’m really sorry about Holly. From what I was able to get to know of her, she was a very special person. She didn’t deserve this.”

He glanced toward the funeral display, and Vicki could sense anger simmering in the tautness of muscle under the sober suit, the blaze of his eyes. The anger warmed Vicki toward him. “Joe, do you know—?”

“Vicki, dearie.”

Vicki turned at the light touch on her arm.

Evelyn gave her a quick hug. “I don’t know what your plans are, but Alberto needs to get our bunch back. If you’d like me to stay with you, he can come back for the two of us.”

“No, please,” Vicki said swiftly. “You go on with Alberto. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be. I still have to deal with the mortuary.”

“Well, if you’re sure, there is one teeny emergency that’s come up at the home. But I could go and come back. Or at least send Alberto back with the Jeep.”

“No, please, I couldn’t ask that. The easiest would really be to just grab a cab and meet you back at CE.

“I just don’t like leaving you to deal with this alone.”

“She won’t be,” Joe said. “Ma’am, if you’re willing to entrust Vicki to us, we’ll make sure she’s delivered to your door.”

“And just who might ‘we’ be?” Evelyn demanded, her head tilting birdlike as she rested her small, capable palm in Joe’s offered grip.

 “Joe Ericsson and my employer, William Taylor.” He gestured to the tall, white-haired older man in conversation with the WRC delegation a few meters away. “We’re Holly’s colleagues from Wildlife Rescue Center. We’ve got a project vehicle with us, and we’ll be happy to run Vicki home when she’s ready.”