Echoes of a Distant Summer (90 page)

Involuntarily, she stumbled backward, trying to escape the teeth that seemed destined to be sunk into her neck, and fell to the floor. Only the strength of the chain had kept the animal from tearing out her throat. The dog’s move to attack was so quick that it was frightening. Even though she was lying on the ground far beyond the reach of its chain, the animal did not stop hurling itself at her until San Vicente commanded, “Heel!”

Alejandro lifted Elizabeth roughly to her feet and as he did so he intentionally grabbed her breast. She pulled angrily out of his grasp and stood trying to compose herself. She was shaken by the dog’s speed and ferocity.

San Vicente smiled. “Are you still hungry?”

Elizabeth knew the more that she saw of the facility in which she was imprisoned, the better. She nodded meekly.

“Good!” San Vicente said with a nod of his head and led the way up
the steps. He stopped a third of the way up and pointed to the dog. “Stay!”

Elizabeth was pushed toward the stairs by Tercero, a lean, wiry man with a full, black mustache. She noticed out of the corner of her eye as she began to climb the stairs that the dog’s chain was long enough to reach to at least the bottom three steps. She would not be able to escape while the dog was on guard. She heard some jostling behind her on the stairs and felt someone’s hand thrusting between her legs. She turned without warning and slapped the offender hard across the face. She put her whole weight behind the blow and it nearly caused Alejandro to fall backward on his companions who were following him. Elizabeth shouted, “Keep your filthy hands to yourself!”

Everyone laughed but Alejandro. There was a look of anger on his face when he started up the steps toward Elizabeth, but he never reached her. Deleon pushed past her and confronted him. Deleon challenged Alejandro, “You forget what your job is already? We don’t want marks on the merchandise! She’s got to be left alone until we hear about the stocks! Do I need to explain it differently?”

Alejandro stared at Deleon and it was clear that had he had his way, Deleon would be his meat, but he looked over Deleon’s shoulder and saw a signal to calm down from his boss.

San Vicente laughed. “I’m sorry, but he’s right, Alejandro. Right now she is very valuable to us. If you persist, I’ll have to give you to either DuMont or the dogs.”

Tercero guffawed. “Don’t give him to Rex! He’ll give the dog indigestion!” There was a round of laughter as Tercero’s joke broke the tension.

Elizabeth followed San Vicente up the stairs and entered a long hallway which led to another flight of stairs. She was being taken into parts of the mansion where she had never been. The tour lasted twenty minutes. First, San Vicente showed her his state-of-the-art security and communications center with its bank of monitors which had cameras in all the major hallways and entries. The communications center was separated from the main house, but was linked by a second-story catwalk constructed over a cobblestone courtyard with a large fountain. San Vicente introduced the two men staffing the center. “This place is run by Angel and Jesus.” He laughed. “With them in charge, you might say I have divine protection. With my security system, I do not fear attacks
from even the strongest of my rivals.” He pointed to a green phone and said, “This is a direct line to the police station. All we have to do is pick up the phone and they answer.” San Vicente asked Jesus to turn on a suitcase-sized shortwave radio and tune in the police bandwidth. San Vicente explained that he had people with shortwave radios all over the region who regularly reported the arrival or movement of unusual groups of men. He pointed out the window to his huge satellite dish and bragged that it was larger than the one the federales had. The last thing he showed Elizabeth was a red switch which he said sent out a recorded radio alarm on all the police bands. If his compound was ever attacked, the red switch would be flicked and police from the surrounding areas would respond. From there Elizabeth was taken back across the catwalk to look down on the dog kennel, where there were five other Dobermans like Rex. She was informed that the dogs freely roamed the grounds during the early evening hours; otherwise they were used to augment regular two-man patrols of the house and perimeter wall. As they walked down the stairs back to the main floor, she kept her facial expression blank, but her fear was growing. The likelihood of rescue was growing more and more remote. It was beginning to appear that the best she could hope was to die quickly.

San Vicente led the way down a different set of stairs into a broad, high-ceilinged hallway. The hallway emptied into a large domed room with a twenty-foot ceiling. Thick carpets lay upon the floor, the walls were lined with heavy, embroidered drapes, and a long wooden table stood in front of a huge stone fireplace. Elizabeth stopped and looked around the room. This was the center of the mansion. She was trying to remember everything she saw.

San Vicente misunderstood her interest. “It’s nice, huh? Like a mansion in Europe or the States.” Elizabeth nodded and continued to look around. San Vicente went on proudly, “This compound is built on five acres of landscaped grounds, all of it surrounded by ten-foot stone walls.”

Deleon reminded San Vicente, “It’s time to make the call.” San Vicente did not like being interrupted and there was a frown on his face when he went to the telephone. Before he picked up the receiver, he turned to Elizabeth and said, “Make no mention of me or of where you think you are. If you attempt to give your boyfriend any clues, I will chop you up into pieces after I have passed you around to my men!” He
dialed several numbers and began speaking in rapid-fire Spanish; after several pauses he handed the phone to Deleon.

Deleon spoke into the receiver, “Hello? Mr. Tremain? Mr. Jackson Tremain? Deleon DuMont here. Yes, we haven’t talked for a spell. Who? Oh, she’s fine. You’ll get to talk to her in a moment if you’ll just calm down. Hey! No need for threats! That’s better. She could’ve been back home by now if you hadn’t attacked my house. Look, all we’re interested in are the stock certificates. If you bring the certificates to the San Diego Hilton at two-thirty this coming Tuesday afternoon, we can end this thing amicably. I know you want to talk to her, but don’t threaten me.… Let me show you what I think of your threats! Bring the bitch here!” Tercero and Alejandro wrestled a struggling Elizabeth in front of him. Deleon pivoted and punched her viciously in the stomach and she fell to the floor with a cry of pain. He spoke into the phone, “I don’t have to tell you what will happen to her if you don’t show, do I?” Then he dropped the phone on the floor by her head and nudged her body with the toe of his shoe. “Be careful of what you say!”

Elizabeth pushed herself to a sitting position. She did not even attempt to get up. She picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. She heard Jackson’s frantic voice. “Hello! Hello! Elizabeth? What the fuck has he done to her? I’ll kill him! I swear to God, I’ll kill all of them!”

Elizabeth inhaled deeply a few times to catch her breath then said softly, “I’m here.” The pain in her stomach prevented her from speaking more loudly.

“Elizabeth? Is that you? Are you all right? What did that bastard do to you?”

“I’m all right! I just miss my life! I miss you.”

“Listen to me, Elizabeth! I love you! I love you with all my heart! Just be strong and know that I love you! Don’t let them break your spirit! Just stay focused on staying alive! Come hell or high water, I will find you! Believe in me! I will find you! No matter how long it takes!”

Elizabeth heard Jackson’s voice break as his words, filled with brittle emotion, shattered in his throat before he could fully formulate them. She forced herself to speak in a strong, clear voice. “I am all right. Don’t be foolish! I am—”

Tercero stepped forward and knocked the phone out of her hands. He growled, “You were warned! Watch what you say!” He raised his hand to slap her. Elizabeth cowered on the floor before him, waiting for the blow to fall.

Deleon intervened. “I think that’s enough rough stuff for today. Hang up the phone.”

Tercero looked at San Vicente for direction, who nodded in agreement with Deleon.

San Vicente mused, “I wonder whether he will come. I think he knows this is personal and has nothing to do with business. If you were on the other side, isn’t that the conclusion you would draw?”

Deleon paused and after a moment nodded. “Yes, but I would not expect to rescue anyone. I would come for vengeance only.”

“So would I. But I think that Tremain is different. I don’t think he has the
cojones
to come.”

Deleon shook his head and said with a slight smile, “It is not wise to underestimate your enemies.”

San Vicente looked at Deleon for a second then broke out into a belly laugh. He pointed to Deleon. “You are warning me, eh? In my own house! You know if it weren’t for those Cubans, I think I could like you, Señor DuMont.” San Vicente laughed some more. He waved his hand in a grandiose gesture to Deleon. “Shall we go to the kitchen for lunch? Old Sonja has made pork tamales and refried beans.”

Elizabeth got to her feet slowly. Her stomach still ached from the blow that she’d received. She stood for a moment, trying to orient herself, trying to remember how she had been led into this great hall. Despite all distractions, she needed to commit the layout of the mansion to memory. She stared up at the huge chandelier which hung from the center of the ceiling. She wondered whether she would be alive to see this chandelier in the coming week.

San Vicente saw Elizabeth staring up at the chandelier and came over to her. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Elizabeth put her head down submissively and nodded. “My grandfather built this hacienda the year before the depression. This chandelier was his most prized possession. He imported this chandelier from France the year before he was killed by Tremain.”

Deleon questioned, “I thought you said King Tremain never attacked this place?”

“He didn’t!” San Vicente’s voice changed; a hard edge entered into his words. “My grandfather and my father were killed in Tremain’s raid on my grandfather’s house near Ciudad Victoria the year after this chandelier was put up.” San Vicente turned to Elizabeth and stabbed one of his short, stubby fingers at her. “They were killed by your boyfriend’s
grandfather. And I understand that your boyfriend was along for the ride at the time. You know anything about that?” Elizabeth shook her head. San Vicente nodded. “I thought not. You see, your boyfriend, DuMont, and me, we all have history. Our lives were tied together before we were born. I have been waiting to meet Tremain for years. I will keep him alive for weeks before I kill him!”

“Wha—what will happen to me if he doesn’t come?” Elizabeth stammered.

San Vicente replied, “Oh, we’ll wait a couple of days then we will contact him again. We will give him an additional forty-eight hours to produce the certificates. If we don’t hear from him, we will send him a few of your fingers and toes. No more than two fingers; we don’t want to jeopardize your sale price. A big girl like you could bring as much as thirty-five thousand dollars in Japan or the Middle East.”

I
t was a long day in the saddle for Jackson. He, Carlos, and a man named Culio left the house at eight in the morning and returned at two in the afternoon. They rode over some steep and unforgiving terrain: through canyons, up arroyos, down ravines, and over ridges. The landscape had changed from rolling hills with gold-colored grass to the dry red clay and brush country of the high desert. There were few trees and the saguaro dwarfed those in height. Jackson was getting tired and saddle sore by eleven o’clock. Sangria was a major factor in his fatigue, for the horse could not be ridden carelessly. The stallion nearly threw him several times with his sudden shying and rearing. Jackson was forced to stay alert and keep his knees tight around the animal’s body. He said nothing of his discomfort. He knew that his companions did not want to quit until they found pig sign.

After they had stopped for a lunch of jerked meat and tortillas and had climbed back into the saddle, their luck improved. Through his binoculars Culio saw fresh tracks leading out of a box canyon. It was decided that Culio would go down to check if the feces were fresh. He
returned in fifteen minutes, nodding. “This morning, a large herd, maybe fifty,” he called out.

Carlos nodded. “The pigs return to the canyon in the evening for shelter. The sides are too steep for anything but a mountain lion. We will find them here tomorrow.” The scouting party headed back for the lodge.

Jackson fell asleep as soon as he found the way to a bed and slept until dinner was served. When he awakened both his thighs and his behind were extremely sore and caused him to move slowly and cautiously. Yet once he arrived at the dinner table, he discovered that his hunger was such that his pain was barely a distraction. He ate heartily without conversation. He was careful not to look at Maria too often as she was bringing in the platters of food. He focused on his plate and did not speak unless spoken to directly. Part of this noninvolvement was his decision and part was that most of the conversation was being conducted in rapid-fire Spanish. While a surprising amount of his Spanish had been reawakened, it was not sufficient to participate in the staccato exchanges that were flying back and forth. Hernando was telling a long joke that had most of the table laughing with each stage. Maria came up to Jackson and nudged him with her hip, indicating that she wanted him to make room for her on the bench next to him. He slid over gingerly. His body ached.

As Maria sat down she glanced at him and asked quietly, “You were gone a long time. Are you sore from the saddle?”

“Yes, I think I about rode my butt off. I may need a transplant.”

She whispered in his ear, “El Negro has some liniment. I’ll rub you down after you finish sentry duty. Maybe we can ease some of the pain before you go back out tomorrow.”

“That sounds good, but I don’t know if I can stand that prickly hay tonight.”

“Don’t worry!” Maria assured him. “Carlos has given us one of the large front rooms. We sleep on a bed tonight and I’ll be there when you wake up tomorrow morning. All your things have already been moved.”