Trading Secrets (23 page)

Brad had eyed him warily. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Well, all right. Joe Bob Briggs says there’s a great
slasher
flick playing at one of the drive-ins.”

“You let him read Job Bob Brigg’s reviews?” Alex interposed sternly.

“It’s tough trying to censor a curious teenage boy’s reading material,” Sabrina answered, groaning. At least she’d gotten Brad to agree to go to something reasonably cultural. She considered that quite a victory for incipient motherhood.

But he had dragged his feet about getting ready to leave this evening and in the end he’s given Sabrina a very strange look.

“What are you going to do while we’re gone, Sabrina?”

“Nothing. Read a book, watch some television, why?”

“Just wondered,” Brad mumbled.

Something clicked. “Wondered about what, Brad?”

“Nothing.”

“Brad, what is it? Why are you worried about what I’ll be doing? I’m only going to sit here at home and read.”

“Nothing.”

“Brad!” she’d snapped, thoroughly annoyed.

He’d turned away. “I just wondered if you had a date or something.”

It all fell into place. “A date!” She’d moved across the living room, putting her hand on his shoulder and turning him around to face her. “Brad, I’m going to spend the evening alone. I’m waiting for your father. I won’t be seeing other men while he’s gone. Is that very clear?”

But he’d been left at home with his mother in the past and he must have known that Ginny hadn’t waited alone while she waited for Matt. There was no reason to think Brad would trust Sabrina to be loyal to his father.

“Yeah, sure, it’s clear. There’s the doorbell. It must be Alex.”

Sabrina had realized as she waved the two of them off in Alex’s silver Porsche that Brad had left unconvinced.

His lack of faith made her reconsider her own growing sense of allegiance to Matt August. It was not something she could sit down and explain to a thirteen-year-old boy. It wasn’t something she could sit down and explain very well to herself, come to that. She only knew that Brad didn’t have to wonder how she would be spending the evening. Nor did his father.

That last thought intrigued her. Was Matt chewing nails wondering if she was being faithful, or had he convinced himself that she was committed to him and knew it? For that matter, what made her so certain he wasn’t amusing himself down in Buena Ventura?

The answer to that had been clear in his eyes the day he had left. He wasn’t down in Buena Ventura to play games. He was there to bankroll a future. Sabrina thought about the way he had made love to her that last night. There had been an almost desperate fierceness in the deeply passionate way he had held her.

They had slept little that night. Instead they had talked; not about Brad or the danger that might be waiting on Buena Ventura, but about small things that seemed to have no real importance. And then they had made love again shortly before dawn.

The first night alone after he had left had been more difficult for Sabrina than she would have guessed. It was, after all, not quite the same thing as having one’s mate leave on a casual business trip. The knowledge that Brad was in the apartment brought a strange sense of comfort.

The sound of Alex’s Porsche pulling into the parking lot in front of the apartment brought Sabrina out of her reverie. Uncurling from the sofa, she went to open the front door.

In stunned amazement she found herself staring at the two apparitions on her doorstep.

“My God!” she breathed. “What on earth happened to you?”

Brad grinned at her, his face smudged and dirty, his jacket torn and his clip-on tie twisted. There were scuff marks on his trousers and his shoes. His hair was in a tangle.

Alex didn’t look much better; worse, in fact. His lip seemed to be bleeding and he was definitely sporting an eye that was darkening rapidly. His expensive clothes, straight from the pages of Gentlemen’s Quarterly, were torn and stained.

“Let’s just say the ballet is no longer the last stand of civilization in Texas,” Alex observed.

Sabrina couldn’t believe her eyes. “You’ve been in a fight, haven’t you?”

“You should see the other two guys, Sabrina. Alex beat them to a pulp,” Brad declared with relish as he stepped inside the house.

“Other two guys?” Sabrina said weakly, turning to stare at Alex as she closed the door. “What other two guys?”

“A couple of redneck cowboys in a pickup truck tried to hassle us as we were walking back to the car in the parking lot,” Alex explained. He walked over to the mirror and checked his appearance. “Ugh. My hairstylist is going to have a fit tomorrow when he sees me. And do you have any idea what this suit cost me?”

“Both of you sit down and tell me exactly what happened!” Sabrina commanded, coming out of her shock to take charge of the situation.

“It was nothing, Sabrina,” Brad said with great nonchalance. His hazel eyes were sparkling. “A couple of turkeys in cowboy hats tried to give Alex here a rough time. Called him names.”

“So you beat them up?” Sabrina demanded.

“We didn’t beat them up until they got out of the truck and came after us,” Alex explained.

“Oh, lord!”

“
Ummm
. Nasty types.”

“They called Alex a fag and a queer and a bunch of other stuff. Said I shouldn’t be hanging around him.” Brad plopped down on the sofa. “When Alex told them to go to hell they jumped us. They didn’t know Alex was a karate expert.”

Sabrina looked at her assistant, dumbfounded. “I didn’t know that, either.”

“Life is just one surprise after another,” Alex said.

“Are you both all right?”

“We’ll live,” Alex mumbled, touching his cut lip.

“I can’t believe this.” Sabrina sighed. “I send the two of you off for a civilized evening at the ballet and look at the way you come back. Are you sure you’re both all right?” she added worriedly.

“We’re fine, huh, Alex?
Wait’ll
I tell Dad what happened!” Brad bounced off the sofa and headed for his bedroom. “I’m going to get out of these stupid clothes. Be right back.”

Sabrina met Alex’s rueful gaze. “I just can’t believe this.”

“Be grateful Brad signed up for karate instead of flower arranging.”

“Did he actually get involved directly in the fight?” she gasped.

“The two dudes in the pickup seemed to think they had a mission to rescue him froth me. Even though it was pretty dark he wound up landing a few practice blows that helped. Kid’s thrilled to death with himself.”

“Alex, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should never have asked you to take him to the ballet tonight.”

“Working for you does put variety into my life.”

“Do you think there will be trouble? Are those two rednecks likely to go to the police?” she asked.

“Are you kidding? A couple of Texas rednecks admitting to the cops that they got beaten up by some guy in a mauve suit who was attending the ballet?”

“You’ve got a point. Not likely.” A ghost of a smile flickered in Sabrina’s eyes.

Sometime later after Alex had cleaned up and taken his leave, Sabrina looked up to find Brad studying her intently. “You really did spend the evening here by yourself, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t I tell you that before you left?” she asked mildly.

“Well, there’s only one wineglass and there’s only one macaroni-and-cheese TV dinner carton in the garbage, so I guess you were telling the truth,” he admitted.

“Quite the little detective, aren’t you?”

Brad hesitated and then said in a small rush, “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Nothing.”

Sabrina grinned. “And thus concludes another scintillating conversation with a thirteen-year-old. Go to bed, Brad. It’s late and you’ve had a heck of an evening.”

The message from Valdez reached Matt at three in the morning. Someday, he decided as he reached out to pick up the phone beside the bed, he would write a scientific paper on why crisis calls always came at three A.M.

“Hello?”

“The operation was not a success,” a strange voice informed him in Spanish. “The patient died.”

Matt hung up the phone and lay staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. The message he had asked Valdez to send to Mayhill through the firm on Flores de
Noche
had been intercepted.

The prospects of a fast forty thousand were deteriorating rapidly.

“Love the boots, Alex.” Sabrina gazed in stunned admiration as her assistant strolled into the shop precisely one minute late the next morning.

“Shit-kicker boots,” Alex explained breezily. “After last night I figure I’m entitled.”

The boots were indeed a work of art, heavily tooled in a flower pattern and done in turquoise and white with silver tracery.

“You look pretty good this morning considering what you went through,” Sabrina said, scrutinizing his handsome features cautiously. “I can still see the cut on your lip and the black eye is obvious, but all in all it gives you a rather dashing appearance.”

“But, then, you’ll never be famous for your good taste, Sabrina,” he pointed out.

“True.”

“How’s the kid?”

“I don’t think he’s going to become a ballet fan for life but he’s definitely a fan of yours! You must have really impressed him last night.” Sabrina grinned. “I hope there won’t be too much more excitement before Matt gets home, though. I couldn’t take it.”

“Three more weeks?”

“That’s what he promised.”

“Brad seemed worried when we left the house last night,” Alex murmured, picking up the feather duster and going to work. “It took him a while to relax. I was beginning to think it had all been a mistake, but he settled down a bit after I fed him.”

Sabrina’s mouth curved wryly. “Brad was afraid to leave me alone.”

“Because he feels he’s supposed to take care of you?”

“Not exactly. He feels he should chaperone me until his father gets home. Poor boy. He was afraid I had a hot date planned for last night.”

Alex looked at her speculatively. “Instead you sat at home with a glass of wine, a mystery novel, and a macaroni-and-cheese TV dinner.”

Sabrina’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I’m getting tired of people going through my kitchen garbage!”

“I noticed the carton while I was standing at the sink trying to get the parking-lot dirt out of my tie. Sorry about that. I guess I was a little curious myself “

Sabrina glowered at him. “Well, now that everyone’s curiosity has been satisfied, I suggest we let the subject drop.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alex drawled in his best Texas accent. He went back to dusting the small metal boots. “You know, looking at twenty pairs of bronzed cowboy baby shoes reminds me of something.”

“Bronzed cowboy babies?”

Alex shook his head. “It was dark in the parking lot last night and everything happened very fast, but there were a couple of odd things about the clothes those two idiots in the pickup were wearing.”

“Trust you to notice fashion details even under trying circumstances.” Sabrina laughed.

“Seriously. They weren’t wearing boots, for one thing. Have you ever heard of a redneck going out without his boots?”

“No boots? What did they have on? Sneakers?”

Alex still didn’t smile, he seemed to grow more thoughtful. “No, they were wearing regular men’s dress shoes. Straight from J. C. Penney’s. And I don’t recall any flashy buckles on the belts, either. Big cowboy hats, jeans, plaid western-style shirts, but no boots or fancy belts.”

Sabrina tilted her head to one side. “Think you would recognize them if you saw them again?”

“Maybe. Probably not. It all happened very fast, Sabrina. I only noticed the boots because when I realized things were going to get nasty one of the factors I was worried about was getting kicked. I wanted to stay clear of their feet. But they didn’t use them. The belts I’m not absolutely certain about. I just don’t recall any big metal buckles shining in the moonlight. You know how those rednecks love their boots and buckles. They all like to pretend they just got in off the rodeo circuit.”

“I sense a certain degree of bigotry going down here.”

“I was definitely feeling prejudiced last night,” Alex admitted.

Sabrina shook her head in mock dismay. “Up until last night I thought you were different, Alex. Civilized, sophisticated, debonair; a true modern gentleman.”

“I am,” he defended, looking crushed. “It’s not my fault that I am forced by life’s unfair circumstances to work in this sleazy little souvenir shop. A temporary situation, I’m sure.”

“And what about this business of getting involved in a parking-lot brawl?” Sabrina demanded.

“Oh, that.” He shrugged. “Well, what can you expect? I’m a man.”

“Excuses, excuses!” Sabrina stepped around the counter and hugged him quickly. “But thanks for protecting Brad last night.”

***

Matt sent the message to Valdez via the hotel maid who had carried the others. She was intensely loyal to the cause, Valdez had said, and could be trusted implicitly. Having set up the rendezvous, Matt walked down the street to Coyne’s hotel and went straight up to the little man’s room, not bothering to take any precautions against being seen.

Coyne’s voice sounded impatient as he called through the door.

“Who is it?”

“August.”

The door was yanked open and Coyne stood frowning at him. “You know you’re not supposed to just casually walk into the hotel and up to my room. The other night when you sneaked in the back way with Arthur was risky enough, but this is intolerable.”

“Intolerable is a good description of the whole situation.” Matt stepped around his unwilling host. “I want some answers, Coyne.”

“About what? I’ve answered a number of questions for you already. Far more than you should have asked. And while the room has been electronically swept for bugs, one can never be absolutely positive.”

“Then let’s go outside.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Let me make my position clear, Coyne,” Matt said in a low but clear tone. “I’m getting nervous. The last time I felt like this I walked into an ambush. I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice.”