Tourist Trapped (23 page)

“I got it,” Art said. “From Brady Gray’s email account I was able to get a bead on Nicolas Fischer’s. When I broke in, I found correspondence with Harding and Montgomery implicating them as Fischer’s superiors.”

“You have copies?”

“Downloaded to a couple of flash drives and an account in the cloud, and backed up the data on a second hard drive. Copies are also in your stealth email box.”

“Great work, Art. Thanks.”

“One more thing. Gray’s dead. Found in his apartment, strangled. Chad, be careful. Harding’s merciless,” Art said before signing off.

“We’re almost there,” Miguel said. “Change into the clothes in the bag.”

“I can’t see anything,” Chad said. “Can I have my glasses?”

“Oops, sorry.” Amanda handed his frames to him.

Chad opened the bag and found a pair of tan men’s slacks, a light blue golf shirt, an aqua sundress, a Corona baseball cap, and a straw hat. He handed items to Amanda and they both changed.

“Sorry about the slacks, I couldn’t find any clean shorts,” Miguel said.

“Not a problem.” They were a little snug, but they’d do.

“We’re here.” Miguel stopped the car and got out. Chad and Amanda did the same, hauling the bags with them.

Miguel pulled a satchel out of the trunk and handed it to Amanda, along with the keys to another car. “Be careful with the contents of the bag, it’s a gift from my sister. Don’t open it now, but keep it nearby. Stay safe, Chica.”

“Thank you, Miguel.” She hugged him. “Muchas gracias.”

“Now get going, before they figure out you’re driving Lucia’s car. We changed the license plate, but that’ll only slow them down for so long. Hurry.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Wednesday December 16, Mid-morning

While speeding south
on Boulevard Kukulcan, Amanda phoned Lucia and updated her on the discovery of the young Rodriguez’s involvement. Cooper clicked away on his laptop, adding notes from the morning’s adventure. Hopefully he omitted his opinions about Amanda’s love life.

She finished her conversation with the officer and stowed her phone in the center console. “Lucia won’t speculate on whether the son’s activities mean Rodriguez is a ringleader. That rat bastard—I’ve despised him from the start. We should have known he was up to his eyeballs in this—the way he kept advising us to pay the ransom and the fact he never had anything to report.”

Amanda pressed down on the accelerator and passed a Bimbo food truck heading south toward Playa del Carmen. “Damn, I should have smuggled my Taser into the country. All I’d need is one moment, sitting across the desk from that scum-sucking bottom feeder. Reach over, press the button and watch him drop to the floor in convulsions.” A momentary lightness wafted over her as she pictured the flopping body of Rodriguez completely at her mercy. She wouldn’t release him from the pulsing current until he wet his pants.

“Um, I think we’d better let Vargas and the gang take care of the situation,” Cooper said. “What’s in the pink bag Miguel gave you?”

“A gun.” She pointed at the satchel on the floor by his feet. “Take a look.”

Cooper unzipped the small tote. “Yes, it’s definitely a gun.”

“What kind?”

“The kind with bullets.”

“Oh for goodness—pull it out so I can see it.”

“In a moving car? Isn’t that illegal?”

“Fine. Open the case.”

Cooper pulled at the sides of the bag and Amanda peered in. “Looks like a semi-automatic.” She felt better; at least they had some protection.

“I hope you know how to use it. I’ve never handled one.”

“I’m pretty good with a handgun. Don’t worry, I won’t accidentally shoot you.”

“Great…glad to hear it,” Cooper said.

“They’re sending out officers to tail Rodriguez, but the captain won’t make an arrest until Rebecca and Trent are safe. Lucia will notify us if there’s a change in Rodriguez’s routine or behavior, and she promises to personally slap the cuffs on the fiend.”

An egret burst forth from the treetops of the jungle, slicing through the air with each beat of its wings.

“That explains why we were continually stymied; we told our adversary everything,” Cooper said.

As they motored down the highway, Amanda reassessed the evidence and their experiences, injecting a malevolent cop into the mix. “Do you think he’s the one who shot you?”

“Strong possibility.”

Normally if Amanda encountered someone as uncooperative and ineffective as Rodriguez she’d kick him in the ass and escalate to someone in charge. In this case she had backed off, fearing offending a foreign police department. Could that decision result in Rebecca and Trent’s death?

“Is Rodriguez the mastermind or a henchman?” Amanda asked.

“I think he’s a hired gun who’s keeping an eye on your family and the police force. I doubt he concocted the scheme, but he’s hell bent on getting that ransom.”

“He definitely convinced my father—I don’t understand why Dad flew back to Florida. Maybe to weasel a loan out of some old crony? No bank will give him a cent if he doesn’t have collateral.”

“Could it be a ruse to look like he’s working on it? Hell, do we have any proof he even left the country? Maybe your dad shot at me last night—the guy despises me enough to pop off a couple of rounds in my direction.”

“My father is reprehensible in many, many ways, but I can’t imagine he’d shoot another human being. He’s more the love ‘em and leave ‘em type.”

They turned onto Highway 307. When they passed the airport exit, Amanda’s thoughts turned to Matt. Had he flown out of Cancun, or was he pacing the airport, waiting for a plane? His sudden appearance at the hotel and his abrupt departure extended far beyond the realm of the bizarre. She had tried to contact him, but could only reach his voice mail.

“Art found the link between Harding and Command Commodities. He’s sending us copies of emails that passed between Gordon and Nicolas Fischer. And Brady Gray is dead. Murdered.”

Amanda’s gut tightened. Did that mean Celeste was in danger? “Call Jaz. Tell her Celeste and Cole need to enter their safe house. We’d better not take a chance. When I saw that painting I knew Gordo was in deep, but I didn’t realize he butchered more than livestock.”

While Cooper conversed with Jaz, Amanda passed an old Volkswagen Beetle convertible crammed with smiling, rubbernecking tourists. Definitely not a group worrying about missing sisters or million-dollar ransoms.

“I left a message for my accountant this morning and told him to pull the trigger,” Amanda said after Cooper finished his call.

“You told Miriam you wouldn’t do it.”

“I haven’t decided if I’ll actually hand over the money, but he’s making it available. The deadline’s in thirty-two hours. I have to be prepared to pay the ransom.”

“What if it’s not drug smugglers? What if your dad, Rodriguez and the boat captain cooked up this scheme to get your money—and, with all of Trent’s strange behavior leading up to the disappearance, maybe he’s involved, too. He could have dragged Rebecca to some secluded resort and they’re sucking down Piña coladas poolside while they wait for you to fork over a million bucks.”

Amanda shivered in the heat. Cooper’s comments merited consideration. “Even if my family decided to ding me for a wad of cash, I doubt they’d murder a bartender.”

“They might have gotten into bed with the wrong thugs and it’s blossomed out of control.”

“Then how do you explain the stalker guy?”

“Maybe your family didn’t realize, from the beginning, they were in over their heads.”

They passed the zip-line towers at Holkan, an adventure park erected in an abandoned, flooded quarry. “So help me, if I find out my family is involved, I’ll kill every one of them.”

“I think we can take Miriam off of the list,” Cooper said.

Amanda glared at him. “Dad has, in effect, tied her hands in this entire episode. The only activities she’s allowed are wait and worry. If I were her, my head would have exploded by now.”

Cooper smiled. “So, Miriam’s not the epitome of evil after all?”

“Piss off.” She passed a bus that had probably departed from the station where the kidnappers expected them to deposit a million dollars the next day. Could it be that the crackerjack Chicago attorney’s own relatives duped her? Had her hostilities toward her dad’s second family set her up for such a fall?

* * *

Chad sized up
Amanda. She looked tired; the strain had to be getting to her. It reminded him of the first days in search of his family—contacting agencies, waiting for responses, learning the ropes. The first six months had felt like walking in quicksand.

He wished he could be of more help, but until they found a solid lead—the boat, a witness or even a paper trail—they floundered, grabbing at the fringes for anything that could move them a step closer to the truth.

Mile after mile of scruffy, wild vegetation passed by. The palm trees and manicured landscaping had ebbed as they left Cancun, overtaken by acres of impenetrable trees and brush, bands of green and brown beneath the agate-blue sky. The occasional business or gas station broke up the expanse.

He reread his notes and added the latest developments. It made no more sense than it did a week ago. Had someone kidnapped Trent and Rebecca or were they part of a scam? They had nothing concrete—except the aching hole in his bicep.

Thank goodness Fozzy came through with the cell phone lead. Something to go on. Chad would have to buy the guy a T-bone steak and a Guinness next time they met up.

He scanned the landscape. Palm trees had reappeared and cars crowded the road as they neared civilization. Did Playa del Carmen resemble Cancun? Another thin strip of land weighed down by massive resorts and raucous bars, edged with ivory beaches and turquoise waters similar to the locale where Chad had consoled Amanda? Would beaches always remind him of the floral scent of her fragrance, the warmth of her skin?

Although he swatted at them like a pesky fly, his thoughts continually returned to the image of a hairy-chested Matthew Baird reclined in Amanda’s bed. Chad didn’t have the right to his feelings of betrayal, but that didn’t expunge them. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, he loved her. He didn’t know how much until this morning, when he realized she’d never be his.

Until Cancun, he had sought to capture his family intact and somehow shoehorn them back into their old lives, patching the gaping holes. Over the last few days, he finally accepted they couldn’t return to their former world.

The week before she ran off with the kids, Danny told Chad she didn’t want their marriage anymore and then successfully eluded him for five years. Depressed or not, she preferred an existence without him.

Did he long for her or for his old life? Were his yearnings for Danielle or for the idea of family—to belong to something bigger than himself, to give him a reason to get out of bed every day?

Over the last six months while working with Amanda, the early morning impact—that instant when he transitioned from his blissful dream world to painful reality—had lessened. He assumed it was due to the years that had passed, but could it be that he had looked forward to his days in the office? The realization still hit him every morning, but now other thoughts ran through his mind as well, dulling the daily blow.

The two women in Chad’s life were as incongruous as a dog and a bar of soap. Danny’s first graders adored her during the years she taught, before depression rolled in like fog in London. Danielle had shared her dreams with Chad: a simple, happy life with a husband and a boatload of children. She avoided outspoken, strong-willed women such as Amanda, explaining them as conflicted about their roles in the world and striking out at those around them.

On the surface, Chad had agreed with Danny’s philosophy, but found himself drawn to Amanda from the beginning. If he had been happily married, would the attraction have occurred? Did part of him appreciate and respect the grit and determination of someone so passionate in her beliefs?

Over the last few months he felt himself getting stronger. Amanda had challenged him and he grew daily from the exercises she put him through—to the point where he had questioned her initial decision to deny Rebecca assistance in Cancun. The Chad of six months ago would have kept his mouth shut and focused on the work, instead of reminding his tempestuous boss of the importance of family.

His heart arrived at the place where his mind had been for the last few years. Chad had no marriage left. The illusions that once floated through his mind of the four of them together again had faded away, replaced with thoughts of a future that included Jason, Skye, and Amanda.

Unfortunately, the woman he loved possessed an engagement ring from another man. Visions of Matt showing up at the office regularly were too much to bear.

“We’re almost to Playa del Carmen,” Amanda said. “Then to Cozumel.”

“Are you familiar with Cozumel? Have you spent much time there?”

“Long ago. Miguel and I loved to scuba dive off of the reefs. He had a friend with a bed and breakfast on the island. When a booking fell through and a room became available, we’d head over for a few days.”

He couldn’t handle any more talk about her lovers—especially about the man who lied and allowed Amanda to treat herself so poorly. Although the guy helped them out, Chad resented him—and the memory of Amanda in his embrace.

“Was this before or after you knew Miguel had a wife?”

“I don’t remember—what does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, you look so wistful, as if it was some magical time, and I wanted to know if you realized you were borrowing another woman’s husband during all of this enchantment. I’m not quite sure how that could be romantic—sleeping with a man who shared his bed most nights with his wife.”

“Why are you being such an ass?”

“Why are you taking a stroll down memory lane when we should focus on the fact you’ve pissed off your family so much they’re shaking you down for a mil? If you’re not careful, they’ll walk away with the dough and all you’ll be left with is Mr. Macho Miguel or The Senator—or are you planning on keeping them both?”

“Cooper, you’re the one who asked me if I’d been to Cozumel. I merely answered your question.”

“A simple ‘Yes’ would have sufficed.”

His phone vibrated and a number of text messages loaded.
Found them in Portland ORE. Planning raid for Friday. Call me. Seen all three. Get here ASAP.

He clenched his jaw. Chad had to rescue his kids, which meant leaving Amanda. He hated abandoning her at such a critical time, but he had another chance to retrieve his children.

“I have to return to the States. A family emergency. I need to fly to Oregon immediately. It’s my…um…it’s important.” He powered down his laptop.

“Of course. Your family comes first.” Her hands squeezed the steering wheel.

Chad called Vince and got his voice mail. He left a message and then turned his attention toward his boss. “I’ll grab a rental and head back to arrange a flight home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll take this car as soon as we reach Playa del Carmen.” She picked up her phone, dialed and turned on the speakerphone. Jasmine answered. “Hi, Jaz. We need a flight out of Cancun for…where in Oregon?”

“Portland. Portland, Oregon.”

“We need something for early evening and keep it off the radar.” Amanda said.

“Give me a minute, I’m going to put you on hold,” Jasmine said.

Muzak hummed through the phone. Palm trees and resorts appeared more frequently along the highway, breaking up the stretches of jungle. A few more miles to Playa del Carmen and then he’d be on his way to Portland. Maybe this time Vince and Chad would succeed.

“I see one for five tonight, with a stopover in San Francisco. It’s the last one for today,” Jasmine said.