Thunder in the Night (Crimson Romance) (22 page)

The violent talk, stated so coldly, frightened me and I gave him a shake.

“Mart, stop it! It won’t help anyone to do something violent and stupid. We have to call the police, have him arrested. We have to stop him and whoever he’s working with. Mart, help me. Think!”

He’d been looking out the window into the distance and it was a moment before he blinked and focused on me. He sat back, letting his feet slide out from under him. Oblivious now to dust and scattered nails, I sat, too. Our shoulders touched as we sat contemplating the stack of ivory bits.

How many elephants and walruses? I wondered. How many dead for the sake of these souvenirs? I shuddered in pain and disbelief.

Beside me, Mart gave a sigh, the kind that heralds decision-making and gaining control. “I’ll talk to the feds — and to Ricardo. And I’ll ask what we can do. How can we pin it on Clark so he can’t ever get away. So he ends up behind bars forever.”

“What time is it in Belize? Call now,” I urged, knowing action would help defuse Mart’s justifiable rage.

“Good idea. I will.” He spoke absently, as if his mind were already on the conversation to come. When he stood up, he extended a hand, pulling me to my feet beside him. “Let’s clean this up. Then, perhaps we could take a raincheck on your tour? I need to get right on this.”

I tucked my hair behind my ears and nodded. “Of course.”

Mart scooped up the ivory and dropped it handful by handful into the bag I held. His nose wrinkled, as if he smelled something foul and I couldn’t help cringing each time another cascade of trinkets slithered into the sack. We propped the broken bag behind the other intact ones. There was no way to secure the torn opening and this worried me.

“Someone will realize we know!” I said, reluctant to leave the scene.

Mart gripped my elbow firmly and steered me away. “Clark may know someone has seen it, but he won’t know who. No one saw us come in here. The logical assumption would be that the workmen knocked it over. It’s anyone’s guess how long Clark’s been using this site as a warehouse. I’ll bet those bags are gone before the day is out.”

I stopped in my tracks. “And we’ll have no proof! Mart, we should take a piece of the ivory as evidence. Otherwise, no one will believe — ”

He reached in a pocket, extracted one of the polished bits and held it up, grim-faced. “I’ve already thought of that.”

Together, we left the building and began the long walk to the zoo entrance where my car was parked.

“I’ll call you later,” he promised, as we faced each other over the open car door. “Don’t worry about me flying off the handle and doing something foolish. This is too important to botch up because of personal feelings. And, Allison?” He waited for me to answer.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about before. About accusing you of wanting a story. It’s just — ”

Reaching up, I cupped his face in my hands. “I know. I understand.” Emotions can be powerful and dangerous.

He smiled, just a bit, and I knew he was still reeling from our discovery. Would keep on reeling for quite a while, too. I wanted to hug him. To comfort him if I could, offering assurance that everything would be okay. But the door was between us now, and his eyes weren’t looking at me any longer. He was gazing off at the zoo entrance and I could almost hear the grinding of wheels as he thought. Best if I just cleared off, I decided with a pang of disappointment.

“Right, then,” my tone was brisk, covering up what I felt inside. “Talk to you later. I’ll be home after five.” I smiled. “Waiting with my phone.” I tried to sound flippant, but the words were truthful. I’d be very anxious to hear what transpired, what Ricardo and the others instructed.

He was already walking away, waving a hand.

It’s a miracle I made it safely back to the office that day. My mind was not on my driving and my eyes kept glazing over as I concentrated on this latest wrinkle. More than once, a horn honked and startled me back into the present, where traffic lights were green and other drivers were impatient.

Chapter Twenty-Six

When the ten o’clock news ended, I snapped off the television and listened hard to the thick silence around me. I hadn’t felt this edgy since I was in high school, waiting for the call that would bring my invitation to the prom.

It had been nearly twelve hours since Mart and I made our gruesome discovery. Twelve stomach-churning hours when I pictured Mart in a showdown with Clark. A fist fight. A gunshot. Mart dead on the floor of Clark’s office.

I poured myself another cup of tepid coffee and debated. Should I call him rather than wait? It took only a few moments of senseless pondering before I reached for the phone.

“Hello?”

I must have the wrong number,
I thought, hearing a low female voice at the other end. Somewhere in the region of my stomach a knot was rapidly forming.

“Is Mart Lawler there, please?” I used my professional voice, flat and brisk.

“Just a minute.”

It could be his sister. Or a neighbor. Or the maid. While I waited for Mart to take the phone, my brain worked frantically to produce an explanation which would not result in heartbreak.

“Hello?” It was Mart and my mouth dried up. He tried again. “Hello?”

“Mart, it’s Allison.” I stopped to clear my throat. “I hope you don’t mind me calling,” I continued, “but you said you’d call me as soon as you’d heard anything. I’ve been dying of curiosity … .” I let my sentence dangle in the air and nibbled on a fingernail.

“Oh, Allison, I’m sorry! I didn’t forget, but it’s just been one thing after the next!” he said. He sounded genuinely distressed, which afforded me a little comfort. Surely, though, he couldn’t feign such a tone? “I had to keep doing all my regular duties and squeeze this espionage around it,” he went on. “I even had to have my department head meeting with Clark this afternoon! It was a short one, let me tell you. It wasn’t easy to keep my temper, looking at him and knowing what he is responsible for.”

“He does put on quite a different face for the public,” I agreed, remembering Clark’s lecture on the rain forest. How he’d gone on about the environment and the fate of the planet. The man should be on the stage with such acting.

“So, what happened? What’s the word from the authorities?”

“I don’t know. I’m just getting to that part now. Ishani said she had some important details for me and she wanted to see the setup here for herself. I just picked her up at the airport an hour ago.”

I’d been fiddling with the fringe on the edge of a pillow, but at the mention of the name, my fingers stopped the nervous motion. That voice on the phone had sounded vaguely familiar.

“Ishani? Ishani, the singer from our hotel?”
The one who kissed you goodbye at the airport
, I thought, but didn’t say.
The one you seem to know, but never mention. That Ishani?

“Yes, that’s the one. See, she’s the federal authority. She works with the government, but in the field.”

“Undercover? Ishani is an undercover agent?” This seemed a bit of a stretch.
You’d certainly never suspect her
, I thought, picturing her exotic beauty and remembering her wonderful voice.

“Right. That’s why she’s in Belize at the hotel. She’s been investigating Tommy Mendoza’s murder, following the zoo trek link. They’ve been working flat out to identify the individuals involved and nab them. Nab the whole network.”

“Really?” I moved to the kitchen counter where I could find paper and pen. This was too bizarre to be true and, if true, too good to miss.

“Something like that. I haven’t gotten too many details, yet.”

“Come over,” I urged suddenly.

“What, now?”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see the gesture. “Yes, now. Bring Ishani, come over, and let’s talk.”

“I don’t know,” he hesitated and I knew he was planning to refuse. “You promised not to use this for a story, Allison. You promised to keep quiet and stay out of it.”

My eyes gave just the slightest roll as I replied. “I said at the beginning I wouldn’t write about it until it’s all resolved and I won’t. You have my word on it. But I’ve been in on this nearly from the beginning, Mart, and I think I can help. Especially now, when I’ll be out at the zoo so much with this series. Maybe I can ask questions you can’t, just because I’m an outsider.”

He was silent, considering this idea. I scurried around the kitchen, tidying up the place, anticipating visitors.

At last, he sighed in resignation. “All right. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

When I answered the doorbell half an hour later, my apartment looked presentable for a change and a fresh pot of coffee was brewing in the kitchen.

Remembering Ishani and her knockout looks, I’d even found time to dab on some blush and lipstick and had abandoned my sweatshirt for a pastel cotton sweater.

I shouldn’t have bothered.

Both Mart and Ishani looked tired and worn out. Mart entered first, his hands grasping my shoulders as he gave me a brief peck on the cheek in greeting. His eyes were shadowed with fatigue and concern. His mouth seemed set in stone.

“Hi, Allison.” He moved determinedly past me into the living room and flopped onto the sofa.

I turned to Ishani, waving her in and closing the door.

“Hi,” she greeted me, almost shyly, her lips twitching into a self-conscious smile. She looked so different in jeans and a sweater, with her hair bundled up at the back of her neck, I almost didn’t believe it was her. Devoid of makeup, she lost that glamorous aura, looking more like the girl next door than a flashy performer.

I stuck out a hand and formally introduced myself.

“Mart told me about your part in all this, Allison,” Ishani explained. “And I’m eager to get a better look at those pictures he was telling me about. Do I smell coffee?”

I hurried from the room, returning in a minute with a tray holding the coffee and some cookies.

“Help yourselves,” I said, “while I get the photographs.”

The pictures had suffered a bit at the aviary, having been dropped and stepped on during our encounter with the ivory. I’d absently stuffed them into my bag after we’d picked up the bits of contraband. Now, I retrieved the snapshots, tapping them into a neat pile.

When I entered the living room after a moment, Ishani was leaning forward with her hands on her knees. Mart had tilted his head back against the sofa cushion and his eyes were shut. He’d stretched his arms in either direction across the back of the sofa and was the picture of exhaustion — physical and emotional.

“I really appreciate your coming over tonight,” I told them both sincerely, handing the photos to Ishani. “You didn’t have to, any more than you had to include me at all.”

Mart opened one eye and regarded me warily. “When we talked on the phone, you didn’t give me any choice,” he said. “Made me feel like it was my moral duty to drag you in deeper.”

I plunked down beside him. “Well, now that you’re both here, let’s concentrate.” I changed the subject. “Ishani, what do the pictures tell you?”

She gave her head a shake, twisting in the chair to hold the pictures directly underneath the lamp. “This man has been definitely identified as Hector Juarez and he is definitely a dealer. But not in drugs. His line, as Mart told you, is animals. Or bits of them.”

I shuddered. “You mean he probably sells living animals, as well?”

“Almost certainly. Some people will pay a lot of money to own an endangered species.” She flipped through the pictures as she spoke, holding them at an angle into the light. “Others have the animals illegally imported so they can be shot later at what is euphemistically called an exotic game ranch.”

“I saw that on television!” I exclaimed. “A man shot a panther as it stepped out of the shipping crate!”

Ishani laid one picture aside and turned her attention to the next. It was Elaine Underwood’s shot from the top of the temple. “Well,” she concluded after a moment’s silence, “it’s purely circumstantial evidence, this. But it is Hector and he is certainly capable of murder. I think you had a very close shave that day, Allison.” When she looked up, her eyes were deadly serious, as if she felt she needed to convince me of the danger involved.

“What’s your plan of attack, Ishani?” I asked. “How do you want to handle this?”

She tipped her head to one side and pondered.

Mart sat up abruptly, breaking the mood. “Are there more of those cookies?”

“Yep.” I pointed him in the direction of the kitchen.

He heaved himself off the couch and headed into the other room.

As soon as he’d gone, I turned to Ishani. An undercover agent. And anything else? Even though Mart had told me there was no blazing romance between them, I wouldn’t be normal if I didn’t wonder. About those voices I had heard in the room next to mine in Belize. About that goodbye kiss at the airport. I started feeling fidgety and insecure, unfamiliar territory for me.

“You know,” I began, unable to stop myself, “I’d never have guessed you were a government agent. You do your job well. No one would ever suspect you.”

“That’s good,” Ishani replied without looking up from the snapshots. “If the wrong people were suspicious, I’d end up dead.”

“True enough.” I paused, then pushed the tiniest bit. “I thought you were just a singer. Although I did wonder how come Mart seemed to know you.”

From the kitchen came the clatter of dishes and the sound of cabinet doors being opened and shut.

If she knew what I was getting at, she didn’t let on.

“Oh, we’d talked on the phone and corresponded prior to the zoo trek,” Ishani explained. “But we didn’t actually meet face to face until your group arrived at the hotel.”

I shifted on the sofa. This wasn’t getting me the information I wanted. Maybe I should abandon my probe. After all, Mart had said there was nothing. His word should be enough for me, right?

“You know what I thought when I saw you together?” I hurried on, turning to shoot a glance at the doorway. Mart was still nowhere in sight. “I thought you and he were, um, more than casual acquaintances. You know?”