The Fall of Maggie Brown (6 page)

“When it was a matter of safety, yes, but I don’t think—”

“I’m not interested in what you think, Maggie. I doubt there’s a single place that’s safe in all of San Pablo right now, what with the elections, and the slums of its capital are probably the worst. You’ll do as I say or I’ll dump you here and let you fend for yourself.”

“And what makes you think I can’t do just that?”

“Because you don’t speak the language and you don’t have a gun. And because you may terrorize the bankers in Philadelphia but you aren’t going to frighten a San Pablo pussycat. You’re powerless here, sugar, and you need me. I thought you’d accepted that fact.”

He didn’t expect her to admit it, and she didn’t. But she stopped arguing, following him into the dimly lit entrance of the hotel without a word.

“Frazer!” Elena flew from behind the desk, wrapping her sturdy arms around him and pressing him against her overflowing bosom. He kissed her soundly, making it a noisy one to annoy Maggie.

“We’re looking for a room, love,” he said.

“Of course you are, you bad boy. Where did you get the little nun? She’s not your type.”

Fortunately for Maggie’s temper she spoke in her San Pablo Spanish.

“I’m democratic when it comes to women, sweetheart. I love ‘em all.”

“Of course you do. You want the honeymoon suite? Nice big bed and a view of the city.”

“She doesn’t need any view but me,
pequena.
Give me my usual room—that’ll be good enough. And see if Luis can rustle up some dinner for her. I have to go out, but I think it’s better if she stays behind. I don’t want her too tired out for tonight,” he said with a deliberate smirk.

Elena howled with laughter and swatted him on the arm. “If she is, you just come and find me. I don’t tire so easily.”

“I remember.”

“What are you talking about?” Maggie said from beside him, that cranky, constipated expression on her face.

“Just talking about the weather, sugar.”

“I thought you were supposed to be talking about my sister.”

“All in good time. Elena and I are old friends. We have to observe the formalities.”

“How old a friend is she? She looks younger than I am. And I certainly don’t see anything formal between the two of you,” she grumbled.

He turned to look at her, his eyes deliberately wide and innocent. “Why, sugar, you sound like you’re jealous.”

Elena let out a snort of laughter. She leaned closer to Maggie. “You got yourself a lot of man,” she said in English. “You get tired of him, you just send him my way and I’ll take care of him real nice.”

“Behave yourself, Elena,” he said. “Maggie will think you’re serious.”

“Have him,” Maggie said. “Be my guest.”

This was getting past amusing and heading over into dangerous. He took the risk of moving away from them, leaning over the desk to grab the key to his usual room.

“Why you want that room, Frazer?” Elena had switched back to Spanish. “That bed’s too damned small to have any fun.”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, love. I’m very inventive.” He looked back at Maggie, and an unexpected trace of regret washed over him. She looked exhausted, her skin pale, her brown eyes hollow, even her hair drooped. They hadn’t had much to eat—just some sandwiches Señora Campos had packed for them, and the endless ride in the Jeep even left him feeling a little worn-out. It wouldn’t have been so bad on paved roads, but he’d taken some of the worst roads, and in San Pablo you had to hold on to your seat to make sure you didn’t go flying. Riding in a vehicle was far from a passive occupation.

“Come on, Maggie,” he said, taking the suitcase from her. He was right—she was too tired to even protest. “We’ll get you settled and then find something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, you should be. And I’m starving. This way.” He started toward the narrow stairs. Either she’d follow him or not. If she didn’t, he’d wash his hands of her and someone else could take on the dubious task of distracting Magnolia Brown.

She was right behind him when he unlocked the door to his usual room. By the time he pulled the string and turned on the overhead light she was already in, and he moved fast enough to stop her from leaving once she caught sight of that sagging double bed.

She looked at him with a trace of her usual cool. “And where are you sleeping?” she asked pointedly.

“Maggie, you wound me,” he protested. “If I wanted to force myself on you then I would have chosen someplace along the way, out of earshot.”

“Maybe you prefer beds.”

“Maybe I do,” he said with a slow grin. “But I’m still more interested in keeping you out of harm’s way than getting into your pants. This is my usual room when I’m here. It’s got the best location—it looks over the back alley, it’s near the stairs and it’s a short drop to the ground if we have to leave through the window.”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“You really have a fixation about that, don’t you, Mag?” he drawled. “I’ve slept on more than my share of floors in my lifetime, and this one’s no better or worse than many of them. You can enjoy the sanctity of your virgin bed.”

She sat down on the virgin bed, and for a brief moment her shoulders sagged. Then she sat up straight, not wanting to betray even a moment’s weakness. “Good. I just hope you don’t snore.”

“I think my snoring will be the least of your worries,” he drawled. “You look beat. I’ll have Elena bring you up something to eat while I go out and see what I can learn. There’s a local bar with just the sort of people I’m looking for.”

“I’m coming with you. It’s my sister—”

“You’re staying put. You’ll keep the door locked and you’ll scream good and loud if anyone tries to open it. Most people wouldn’t think to mess with you once they know you’re with me, but there are always the few, stupid exceptions.”

“They’re all so afraid of you?” she scoffed. “I can’t imagine why.”

He smiled at her. His ferocious, wolflike smile that tended to terrify braver souls than Maggie Brown.

“Can’t you?” he murmured. She looked up at him, and he could see the first trickling of real uneasiness in her stern brown eyes.

“Lock the door behind me,” he said. And he was gone before he could ruin the effect.

CHAPTER FIVE

M
AGGIE SAT ON THE SAGGING
bed, listening as his footsteps died away. And then she flopped backward onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling, the lone lightbulb hanging in the center illuminating the shabby interior of the room. It seemed relatively clean. She didn’t want to think about how recently the sheets had been changed.

At least she was alone. Without his eyes watching her, those enigmatic, electric-blue eyes of his.

She could hear her stomach rumble. She hadn’t eaten much for lunch—the constant jolting of the Jeep along the barely passable roads hadn’t done much for the state of her stomach. But now that the bouncing had finally stopped she was starving.

Frazer had said Elena would bring her something to eat. Probably laced with cyanide. If Elena and Frazer weren’t something more than friends then she was a kangaroo. Why he bothered making her sleep in the same room when he had such a luscious armful available was beyond her comprehension. She didn’t believe for one moment that it could be that dangerous in this tiny hotel. It wasn’t any noisier than most cities, though the occasional shriek from the alley outside was slightly unnerving. He was probably exaggerating the danger in order to keep her compliant. As far as she could tell the most dangerous creature in the entire country of San Pablo was Ben Frazer. She’d seen no signs of any alleged bandits, revolutionaries, or even the snakes he’d promised.

Her stomach made a rumbling protest again, and she allowed herself a faint, self-pitying moan. She would have given anything to be back in Philadelphia, in her safe, comfortable bed. She would have given anything to have spent her entire life without making the acquaintance of Ben Frazer.

She should be used to it by now. Her sister and mother had gotten her into more hassles than she could even begin to count, and ever since her father’s death all the responsibility for them had fallen on her own shoulders. Not that it was a heavy burden—she was used to taking care of things, of cleaning up after her sister’s mistakes, of soothing her mother’s melodramatic extremes. This was a little more strenuous than the usual, but chances were this wasn’t the worst trial she was ever going to face.

She just wished she’d had a chance to call home again, just to make sure her mother was hanging in there. If Delia was as sick as she said she was, she might already be dead, with both of her daughters thousands and thousands of miles away. If she didn’t bring Stella back in time she’d never forgive her sister. If she didn’t get back in time she’d never forgive herself.

Maybe she could just fall asleep, listening to the steady murmuring of her empty stomach. There was nothing she could accomplish tonight—she’d promised Ben that she’d stay put. Even if she went out in search of a public telephone there was no guarantee that she’d find a working one. And there was always the remote possibility that he wasn’t exaggerating the danger.

She heard the soft, furtive footsteps above the noise of the city outside, coming down the hallway to her room. She sat up, all thoughts of sleep vanishing. She hadn’t gotten up to lock the door when Frazer had left her—she’d just lain on the bed and felt sorry for herself. Maybe if she moved really fast she could reach it in time to keep out whoever might be coming for her.

She was halfway off the bed when the door opened, illuminating Elena’s voluptuous figure. She was carrying a tray, and from across the room Maggie could smell the onions and tomatoes and peppers, and her stomach knotted in anticipation.

“Dinner,” she announced in her strangely accented English. Maggie was educated enough in Spanish and French to get her through most difficult situations, but the language of San Pablo was mostly beyond her comprehension. Throughout its troubled history San Pablo had been isolated from its neighbors but not immune from their influence. It was a strange combination of Spanish, French, Andorran and Basque traditions, and the language was a sort of mishmash. Every now and then she could pick out a word or two, but mostly it was as incomprehensible as ancient Egyptian.

Elena set the tray down on the rickety-looking table, then took the seat opposite, clearly waiting for Maggie to join her. She’d brought some sort of savory stew, accompanied by a cold bottle of beer, and any thoughts Maggie had of resisting vanished.

She was halfway through the stew when she looked up to meet Elena’s dark, curious eyes. “It’s very good,” she said lamely.

“And you were very hungry. That’s not like Frazer—he usually takes better care of his women.”

“I’m not one of his women,” Maggie protested. “I just met him.”

Elena laughed, a throaty, sensual sound. “He had me on my back in less than an hour,
señorita.
”

“I wouldn’t be bragging on that if I were you,” Maggie replied stiffly.

Elena laughed again, unoffended. “You’re much too civilized. Here in San Pablo life is simple. You take love where you find it, because who knows when it will come again.”

“Love?”

Elena shook her head with mock pity. “All women love Frazer. And he loves them in return, with all the generosity of his heart.”

“Trust me on this, he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t even like me.”

Elena frowned. “Impossible. Frazer likes all women. He flirts as naturally as he breathes.”

“He doesn’t like me,” Maggie insisted. “And the feeling’s mutual. Thank God. I will admit I’ve done nothing particularly likable as far as he’s concerned. I’m sure he gets along beautifully with most other women.”

Elena stared at her. “This is serious,” she said grimly.

“Hardly. I don’t expect everyone to like me.” Actually that wasn’t true. Maggie did her absolute best to be pleasant and agreeable to almost everyone she met. Ben Frazer was one of the few exceptions. He got under her skin like a poison ivy rash, but she wasn’t about to explain that to Elena.

“You don’t understand. Are you trying to tell me that Frazer hasn’t tried to seduce you?”

“Apart from a few rude comments, no.”

“And has he put his hands on you?”

“No, to that as well. He’d be sorry if he did.”

“Frazer isn’t the kind of man who worries about such things,” Elena said, deep in thought. “Drink your beer.”

“I’d better not. I’m a cheap drunk.”

Elena looked at her curiously. “What does that mean?”

“It means that it takes about one beer to affect my good judgment. Two beers and I’m swinging from the chandeliers and singing torch songs. I find it much safer not to drink at all.”

“If you wanted a safe life you shouldn’t have come to San Pablo,
señorita.
”

“Didn’t Frazer tell you? I’m looking for my sister. He was hoping he’d find some lead—”

“He didn’t say anything about your sister. He said you were a rich tourist out for a little excitement and he was going to provide it for you. I promise you, he can be very exciting.”

Maggie reached for the beer. It was strong and skunky and delicious, and she swallowed a good third of it. He hadn’t even asked Elena if she’d seen a tall, redheaded beauty. Damn the man! “Where did he go?” she demanded.

“The Hungry Dog. It’s a bar down the street…where do you think you’re going?”

Maggie had already risen. She took another deep swig of the beer. Dutch courage, she thought. Or San Pablo courage. “I’m going to go find him and remind him why he brought me here.”

Elena raised her eyebrows. “I thought you said you weren’t involved with him. He won’t like being dragged back here, even for sex.”

“I’m not interested in sex or in dragging him back here!” Maggie protested. “I want him to do his job so I can get back home.” She started toward the door, but Elena was faster, blocking the way.

“You’re not going anywhere,
señorita
,” Elena said. “I promised Frazer I would keep an eye on you and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

“Fine. Keep an eye on me. I don’t mind the company.” She tried to dart around her, but Elena shifted quickly, still blocking her way.