CL Hart -From A Distance (19 page)

"Give it a moment," he said as he pushed a few buttons and then handed her the heavy phone. "It's old, but it works," he said, noting her skepticism. "Your friend used it last night."

"Cori called somebody?" The information unsettled her, but she would deal with that later.

He gestured to the open door and the rear of the wheelhouse. "Want me to step out?"

"Nah." She shook her head as she dialed a series of numbers. "Did she say who she called?" Kenzie asked.

"She said it was her mother."

Manny turned his attention back to the sea as Kenzie put the phone to her ear. She was a little surprised to hear a clear ringing coming from the antiquated phone.

"Hola,"
a gruff voice grumbled.

"Big Polly there?"

"Who's callin'?"

"Kenzie." She reached out to steady herself against the gentle sway of the boat as she waited, but she didn't have to wait long.

"Kenzie, is that really you?"

She smiled as a warm feeling rushed over her. Big Polly had a way of making anyone feel safe. "Yeah, but I need to make this short. I need some help."

"For you...anything."

"I'm coming in, and I'm coming in hot."

Big Polly's playful banter turned serious, "Not a problem. Tell me where and when."

Moving the phone away from her mouth, Kenzie turned to Manny as she wiped at her tired eyes. "Where are we?"

"We were passing Isla Carmen when the sun came up, a few hours ago."

Nodding, she brought the phone back to her mouth, but Manny held up a finger. "Hang on," she said quickly into the phone, and then to Manny, "What?"

"I understand your real destination is San Diego, by way of Tijuana?" Though his eyes were on the ocean, he could feel her bristle at his words.

Kenzie squinted into the distance as she rolled her tongue against the inside of her cheek. She didn't want anyone to know where they were headed, but it appeared that Cori had not been as discreet. "That's one option."

Manny wondered exactly who this stoic woman was and what kind of trouble she was in. He considered himself to be an honest, hard working man who was only fishing illegally because he needed to provide for his family. Breaking the law was not something he wanted to do, but he found himself wanting to help her.

"I have family in Santa Rosalia."

"I'm listening,"

"He has a plane."

Kenzie turned and looked at the salty captain. Her golden eyes began to shine as a slow smile spread across her face. "Really?" She raised the phone back to her ear.

The fishing boat moved swiftly through the water and Kenzie leaned against the steel railings, casting an eye on the white foam running alongside them. Her head had started to clear but she still felt like she had gone a few rounds in the ring with a gorilla. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the coast of the Baja moving slowly in the distance.

"Mind some company?" Cori asked as she came alongside her.

Glancing over her shoulder, Kenzie looked Cori over from head to toe. She had a blanket still wrapped around her should ersand her hair fluttered around her face. She looked tired and haggard.
I wouldn't mind your company at all,
Kenzie thought, but she only nodded and turned back to watch the view beyond them.

"How are you feeling?" Cori asked loudly over the sound of the chugging diesel motor and the ocean wind.

"Fine." She waited for a moment before she asked the question that had been nagging her mind. "Captain said you made a phone call last night." Kenzie didn't want to ask, she wanted to trust Cori, but she had survived this long by listening to the persistently cautious voice in her head.
To who?

"Yes. I know I probably shouldn't have, but I had to call my mother and make sure she was all right. With everything that's happened, I just couldn't...I just wanted to know she was all right."

"I understand," Kenzie said. "Was she all right?"

Cori nodded. "She's concerned. I haven't phoned this often since I left Seattle."

"You didn't tell her where we were, did you?"

"No."

The conversation died, but Cori had something else to say. "How's the shoulder...and your side?" she finally asked.

"Good," Kenzie answered too quickly, showing she too was feeling a little uneasy.

"And your hands?"

Kenzie looked down at her swollen hands. "They're stiff and sore, but they'll be fine in a day or two. Like the rest of me," she said as she opened and closed them several times. "A little banged up, but I'll be fine, thanks to you."

Not wanting to look into Kenzie's eyes, Cori kept her attention on the horizon. "I did the best I could with what I had." Kenzie turned to look at her and Cori could feel her stare.

"You did just fine." Kenzie moistened her lips as Cori turned to face her. "Thank you," Kenzie said with a rare smile. "And thanks for taking my stitches out, and for taking care of me. I'm not used to that. I haven't had to rely on anyone in a very long time and ah..."

"You're welcome. That's what friends are for."

"Yeah, about that..." Kenzie ran her fingers through her curly hair.

"What? You're going to tell me that you didn't have friends, either?"

"Well, I have, but, ah...um," Her finger picked at the peeling paint on the railing of the
Juanita Rose.

The smile on Cori's face faded as she watched the intense stare of her would-be assassin. "Something tells me you haven't had many. Did you have anything normal in your life, Kenzie?"

Thoughts and memories flashed through her mind as flecks of paint drifted downward and into the water below. "It's had it moments." Kenzie lifted her eyes to the horizon and she took a deep breath. No one had to tell her that her life had not been typical. John Mifflin had taught her that. He had been the golden boy of his high school, and had joined the service upon graduation. In truth, he had been her only friend, aside from the judge. All of that seemed so long ago, and so very far away. This with Cori, this was different, and she could feel it in the raw ache in her stomach.

Kenzie turned to face Cori, studying her every feature and, for the first time, really seeing the beauty of the woman beneath the bruises. It would be one of those moments that she would remember for the rest of her life. Even after all they had been through, Cori still had the fresh look of innocence, one that under different circumstances she would have liked to get to know better.

"Why did you call me your friend?"

"Well," Cori pushed her flapping hair out of her eyes, "you haven't held a gun on me for almost two days now, and...well, you've saved my life twice, and..." Cori's smile faded as she looked deep into Kenzie's eyes and answered her honestly, "Because I think you need one."

Their eyes locked for several long heartbeats, until Kenzie had to look away. There was too much communication in the silence and it made her extremely uncomfortable. Looking down at the railing, she began to pick at the paint again until Cori gently laid a hand on top of hers. Kenzie stopped her picking and flattened her hand out on the railing, allowing Cori's fingers to intertwine with her own.

Hours later, the
Juanita Rose
pulled into the safe harbor of the tiny town of Santa Rosalia. As per their arrangement, Manny's cousin Fernando was there to meet them. The fishing trawler returned to sea, its captain at the helm hoping Kenzie would reward him as she had promised. If she did, he would not have to fish illegally for a very long time.

Fernando regarded the two women in the front of his pickup. "So, I know Manny said not to be asking a bunch of questions, but do you need anything in town before we head out to the airstrip?" The one with the curly hair was a real looker with her exotic gold eyes, but the woman with the honey-colored hair made his eyes shine. Neither of them had spoken much, but that was okay by him, as long as they didn't mind him looking.

Kenzie held on to the frame of the window as they bounced painfully down the pothole riddled road. "We need some clothes, but we don't have any money."

"Si,
that's not a problem. Manny said to look after you, so I'm gonna look after you. There are a few stores in town that will carry what you need.
Si?"

"That sounds fine," Kenzie said as she continued to scan their surroundings. "I also need to know where we'll be landing, then I need to find a phone. I need to make a call to have someone pick us up.

"Si, si."
Fernando smiled and pulled an old cell phone from his pocket.

Looking at the shape and the apparent age of the phone, Kenzie suggested they find a landline.

Chapter 9

In a nondescript building on the south side of town, three men waited silently around a folding particleboard table. The walls of the office were bare, with the exception of a calendar that was two years old and a faded picture of the Seattle Space Needle. A single lopsided aluminum blind hung over the only window, partially obscuring the view outside. The florescent light flickered overhead, its noisy hum the only sound in the room. Situated in the center of the table was a black, three-legged, speakerphone, designed for conference calls. The only other thing on the table was an ashtray holding a smoking pipe.

Winston Palmer reached for his pipe and placed it between his tightly pursed lips. Drawing deeply, he blew several large puffs of smoke into the already warm room.

Terry Bucannon was sitting to the left of Palmer, Manuck to his right. Terry constantly waved the pipe smell away from his nose. Being a Deputy Director in the CIA afforded Bucannon the authority to command others, but there was nothing he could do about the smoke coming from Palmer's pipe. When Palmer rose from his chair, Terry thankfully waved away the smoke as he watched the senator move to look out the window.

"I wouldn't be standing in front of any windows if I were you, Senator," Manuck said to Palmer. "She can take the eye out of a quarter at about 500 yards, and she'd be gone before you hit the floor." Before Palmer could comment, a light on the black box on the table flashed red and began to hum.

Moving quickly away from the window and taking his seat back at the table, Palmer told himself he had moved because the call they had been waiting for had finally come, not because he feared for his own safety.

Manuck leaned back in his chair as Terry slapped at the connect button. "Tell me it's done," Manuck demanded.

A crackly voice filled the room. "No, sir. I've run into another problem."

"God damn it!" Manuck slammed his hand down on the table. "What's the problem? Can't you just shoot her in the head?"

Senator Palmer rubbed his face, trying to wipe away the preceding forty-eight hours of tension.

"It seems there was an incident on the ferry, and - well, I thought she was dead..."

"You thought? Your orders are not to think, but to do as you're commanded."

"The intel I had yesterday-"

"Is she dead or not?"

"Apparently not, sir."

"Apparently? Since you're calling us, I'd say probably not. Where is she now?" Manuck said between clenched teeth.

"Near as I can tell...somewhere on the east side of the Baja... Possibly Santa Rosalia, sir."