Malice in Mexico

A Claire Gulliver Mystery

Books by Gayle Wigglesworth

GAYLE’S LEGACY,

Recipes, Hints and Stories Culled from a Lifelong Relationship with Food

THE CLAIRE GULLIVER MYSTERIES

Tea Is For Terror

Washington Weirdos

Intrigue In Italics

Cruisin’ For A Bruisin’

Malice In Mexico

A POTTERY MYSTERY

Mud to Ashes

MALICE IN MEXICO

A Claire Gulliver Mystery

by

GAYLE WIGGLESWORTH

Copyright © 2008 by Gayle Wigglesworth

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without prior written permission from Gayle Wigglesworth, except for the inclusion of quotations in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2008935846

ISBN: 978-0-9825519-5-0

Gayle Wigglesworth, publisher

Email: gayle@gaylewigglesworth.com

Web site: www.gaylewigglesworth.com

Acknowledgements

I started this book with confidence, having visited San Miguel on three separate occasions during the past five years, but very soon I realized I needed some help. One thing that really worried me was none of our visits coincided with the time of year when Claire and Jack visited. Fortunately, our friend, Jan O’Brien, decided to visit San Miguel in March of 2007. She very kindly sent back photos and reports which helped assure my accuracy. However, Dave and I did return to San Miguel this last March, before I sent the manuscript to the publisher, to make sure I got it right.

I want to thank Larry Grill, brother of my brother-in-law, who has spent many years in various fire departments in the Southern California area. He reviewed some of the scenes in the book to make sure they were feasible. And I appreciate my nephew, Nick Coates, who is a member of the U.S. Border Patrol, confirming that my scenes about crossing the border could have happened as I described them.

And I am extremely grateful to my friend, Dr. Martin Lorin for the meticulous care he took in reviewing my draft, for the valuable suggestions he made which tightened the suspense of the story, and especially for his constant policing of my comma’s, which I confess, I have my own unique way of using.

And of course, I thank my husband, David, for his constant support as well as the numerous times he read the manuscript without complaint. And also my special appreciation to my daughter, Janet Hancock, who despite her busy schedule managed to finish her edit and get the comments back to me in time to meet my deadline.

And to Archie Dean, author and publisher of The Insider’s Guide to San Miguel, for his permission for me to reproduce the maps from his book which I have put in the front of my book to help the readers understand where San Miguel is located and how the Central District is laid out. His book has been very helpful to me on my visits to San Miguel, helping me be comfortable while exploring San Miguel.

This book is a work of fiction and the characters and events all happened in my head. If you think you recognize these people, names and situations, I assure you it can only be coincidence.

I always try very hard to get everything right so I appreciate these “experts’” input. However, if I have missed any errors, they can only be my own responsibility.

Dedication

For David,

my husband, partner, mentor, and my best friend.

PROLOGUE

Claire smiled when she read the email message from Vern Higbee and then opened the attachment. She clicked on “print,” reading the copy as it printed.

Luxurious two bedroom house wrapped around delightful courtyard, walking distance from the Jardin in San Miguel de Allende. Fully furnished, all amenities, available for two weeks in March. Price negotiable. Call 415 555-7443.

She didn’t know Vern and his partner, Mike, had a house in San Miguel de Allende. His email requested she post the ad on Gulliver’s bulletin board hoping one of the customers would want to rent the house. She flipped through her address file to find Vern’s phone number, thinking he should be home from the University by now.

“Hi Claire. You got my email?” Vern obviously had Caller ID on his phone.

“Yes, and I’m happy to post the ad. I didn’t know you and Mike had a place in San Miguel. Is this something new?”

“No, it’s not ours. We leased it. We have friends in San Miguel who have been begging us to visit. We finally agreed, but Mike said we weren’t staying with them. They live a way more exciting life style than we do; we knew we couldn’t keep up with them. So they arranged for us to lease this place. Unfortunately, now Mike can’t get away.

“I don’t know if you heard his company is being sold? And of course, Mike’s critical in providing the due diligence information. He’s stuck. Naturally, I’m not going without him. We can use our plane tickets another time, but the money for the house will be a total loss if we can’t sublease it. Mike thought your bulletin board might be our best bet. What do you think?”

She nodded, and then remembering he couldn’t see her nod, “Well, we do have a lot of interest in that area, so it’s likely someone will want it. I’ll let the staff know about it so if they see anyone buying books about that area they can point it out. But actually, I was thinking I might like to rent it.”

“You? Oh, you’d love it there Claire. It’s very artsy, you know. They have music festivals and art schools, and lots of people go there to study the language. And I understand a large contingent of retired Americans and Canadians live there, so it’s very gringo friendly. It’s high in the mountains and the temperature is mild; it never gets too hot or too cold. We were really looking forward to visiting it, but there will be another time.” Vern’s voice dropped an octave as he wheedled. “If you want it, Claire, we’ll make you a very good deal.”

Claire laughed. “I’m still thinking about it. Meanwhile I’ll post the notice for you. What are the dates it’s available.” She noted the dates and then, after a few more words she hung up, thinking how nice it would be to escape from the cold and wet winter they had been having.

Usually, the weather didn’t bother her, but this year she was worried about its effect on Jack. Jack Rallins had arrived at the shop a few weeks ago on a chilly, wet Sunday afternoon in January.

She and Jack had a strange relationship. They had met two years ago while Claire was on a tour of England, and met again in early September the same year in Washington D.C. just before Nine-eleven. Then she didn’t see him or hear from him until they met in Venice the following May. While it’s hard to develop a relationship with a person who isn’t there, they both understood their strong attraction to each other meant something. And even when she didn’t see him or hear from him for long periods of time, thoughts of him haunted her at inopportune times. And the fact that she hadn’t heard from him worried her. She knew his work caused him to go undercover for periods of time, but he usually stayed in touch if only by mailing her an occasional unsigned postcard.

One raining Sunday in January, responding to an intercom message from her assistant, Mrs. B, she hurried out to the front of the bookshop to find a pale, thin and shaky man standing hunched and wet by the front door. He looked old and only vaguely familiar. She was shocked when she realized it was Jack, but she didn’t waste time asking him questions; she just took him home and put him to bed.

Later that evening when his fever spiked and he was flailing around, muttering disjointed words, she was close to panicking. Finally she called the local doctor whose card she found in Jack’s pocket. She was surprised and grateful when he came to the house; she didn’t know doctors still did that. But Dr. MacIntyre assured her he had instructions about this patient and would do whatever was necessary to see he recovered.

It wasn’t until a later visit that Dr. MacIntyre told them both, rather crossly, he thought it was criminal how Jack had been allowed to check himself out of the hospital in the condition he was in. But Jack was adamant, insisting people die in hospitals; he said he’d rather take his chances outside.

And Jack was getting better even though he was still only a shadow of his former self and he still had two jagged wounds that had not completely healed. He hadn’t told her what had happened to him, but she knew he had almost died and was just grateful to have him safe under her watchful eye.

The last time Dr. MacIntyre visited, he had suggested Jack think about finding some sunshine. He actually suggested Hawaii or San Diego would be a good climate for him, but Jack said Claire’s bungalow seemed just fine.

Now, Claire printed off a second copy of Vern’s notice and shut down the computer. She pinned one copy on the bulletin board before going to the shelves containing books on Mexico. She selected two on San Miguel and handed them to Mrs. B, who was manning the cash register.

“Deduct those from the inventory, please. I’m taking them home.”

“Oh, thinking about visiting Mexico?”

“Maybe. Vern and Mike sent a notice for us to post on the bulletin board about subleasing a place in San Miguel de Allende. I thought it might be a good change of scene for Jack.”

Mrs. B nodded briskly. “A little sunshine would do that man a world of good.”

“Have you been there?”

“No, I did spend some time near there, but never actually got to San Miguel. I hear it’s very nice.”

Claire nodded absentmindedly, reviewing the list in her head of things she had planned to complete today. “I think I’m done, so I’m going home now, Mrs. B. Are you all right?”

“Certainly dear. Tony is here and Billy said he’d stay until I’ve closed up. You go on and have a good evening.”

When Claire returned with her coat on, Tuffy-Two, the West Highland Terrier, and Theroux, the bookstore cat were both waiting eagerly by the door. Theroux used to prefer to stay at the store, but since Jack’s arrival the cat had started going home each night with Claire and Tuffy-Two.

Claire took the bag of books from Mrs. B and opened the door so the animals could scamper out and around the corner to the SUV she used for hauling books around.

The gray sky was dark, not because the sun had set, but because of the thick clouds. The rain had stopped, but leaves and rooftops were still dripping and the saturated ground was refusing to absorb the remains of this last downpour. Claire shivered as she held the SUV door open so the animals could clamor into the back for the short ride home. She only lived six blocks away and usually she and Tuffy-Two enjoyed the walk, but lately the weather was so unpredictable she drove rather than risk being caught in the rain.

“Hey, what’s cooking? The house smells great,” Claire exclaimed as she came through the front door. It was such a pleasure to come home when the house was warm, the lights were on and Jack was waiting for her.

Jack stopped straightening up the pile of papers he had been reading to pat Tuffy-Two and scratch behind Theroux’s ears before wrapping his arms around Claire in a soul sustaining hug. “I’m heating up the soup your mother brought over. It smells like one good helping is going to cure what ails me, doesn’t it?”

It didn’t take long to get the animals fed and the soup dished up. After her initial pangs of hunger had been satisfied, Claire broached the subject of a trip to San Miguel.

“You want to take a trip?” Jack was clearly surprised.

She nodded. “You know Dr. MacIntyre suggested you go somewhere where the weather is kinder, warmer, and more conducive to you getting outdoors. I’ve heard good things about San Miguel de Allende. It’s supposed to be a pleasant, picturesque town. I thought it would be a good place for us to relax, kick back and see something new.”

He shook his head, his face contorted as he struggled to hold in his laughter.

“What? What is so funny?” She couldn’t help feeling a little indignant.

“Claire, your travel history doesn’t lead me to think taking any trip with you would likely be relaxing.”

Her mouth dropped open and she sputtered a bit as she denied it. “What do you mean?” She glared at him for a moment, then nodded sheepishly admitting, “Well, it’s true I’ve had some scary experiences, but that is no reason to think this trip would be a disaster.”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but somehow you do seem to attract more than your share of criminal activities. Now I grant you that your tour of England was just bad luck, a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And of course the trip to Washington D.C. was just an extension of that unfinished business. But Italy? How would you explain what happened on that trip?

“Really Claire, you seem to be a disaster magnet. You just attract violence. And after the story you and your mother told me about your cruise to Alaska, I have to think it would be much safer for us just to stay here.”

“Are you scared to travel with me? Do you think I’m going to get you into trouble? Jack, you make a living from trouble.” She shook her head in disbelief, more than a little irritated. “I’ll have you know that I don’t get into trouble every time I travel. I went to the book conference in Chicago last year and the most exciting thing that happened was my plane was delayed an hour coming home. That was neither dangerous nor scary. And just last fall Susanne Queensley, remember her? Anyway, Susanne came out to visit, and we went up to the Wine Country for four days. It was a wonderful trip with no hint of a disaster.”

Jack pondered for a moment, and then drawled, “Well, Mexico is not exactly the Napa Valley, you know. There’s a lot of graft and crime in Mexico. Certainly some of the areas such as Mexico City and Nuevo Laredo are dangerous destinations. Even if you didn’t have a propensity for getting involved in sticky situations, I think it would be risky to go to either of those places. I think there have even been tourist alerts issued about them.”

“But Jack, I don’t think San Miguel is anything like that,” Claire told him earnestly, explaining, “We had a lecturer at the shop last year, who talked about Americans retiring in San Miguel, and he said it was very safe. And other customers have said that too.” She paused, confused by his attitude, finally saying, “Wouldn’t you like to go away with me?”

He looked startled. “Of course I would. I guess I’m just being ornery. Remember, Bayside is ‘away’ for me. I haven’t been stateside for a while, and I guess I’ve been imagining your town for so long I’m reluctant to leave yet.”

“Oh, I didn’t think about that. I just thought now that you’re feeling a little stronger it would be nice to go somewhere where we can get outside. We could walk and explore and enjoy some time with each other without all my daily obligations distracting me.”

He nodded, looking thoughtful. “You’re right. I think I’m being inconsiderate. It would be really nice to go somewhere new with you, just the two of us. But what about the store and what will you do about the boys?” His gesture swept around to include Tuffy-Two and Theroux.

“That’s why I’m interested in this place Vern has for lease. The timing is right. Mrs. B will be available to take care of the store and the animals. They all love the arrangement so I don’t even have to feel guilty about being away.”

Jack nodded again; clearly he was starting to consider the advantages of a visit to San Miguel.

“I brought home some books about San Miguel so we can do some research. I’m guessing if we want Vern’s place we’d better decide soon.”

He got up gathering a load of dishes. “Let’s get on it. You check out those books, and I’ll get on your computer and see what I can find.”

CHAPTER 1

There was a brief pause in conversation when she entered. It was as if the lights had flickered, but it was really just a flare of lust blossoming in the minds of the men and a green flash of jealousy in the eyes of the women.

She glided purposefully through the filled tables, seemingly oblivious to the attention she was attracting. Her light gray business suit of fine worsted wool with the tiny vertical black stripe would have been suitable for any high powered business meeting, except the jacket, which buttoned primly at her waist, covered only her naked torso allowing tantalizing glimpses of generous breasts. Her cloud of dark hair fell around her shoulders, swaying with the movement of her stride, revealing occasional glimpses of sparkle at her earlobes. Her sensuous model’s walk made it seem as if she owned the room, but it might have only been the result of the incredibly high-heeled sandals strapped on her bare feet. Her eyes were dark, focused on her target. Everyone, in spite of their involvement in various conversations, watched her progress as she moved through the room, and when she stopped at the table on the far side, near the now empty bandstand, it seemed almost as if there was an audible sigh of disappointment from the men mingled with one of relief from the women.

She stood in front of the table and watched an appreciative smile spread over the man’s face as he got to his feet and held out his hand.

“Manny Hillerman, won’t you join me?”

“KC Ramosa, I believe you were expecting me.” She sat down, noting the flash of surprise in his eyes although his smile didn’t falter.

He recovered quickly. “What a delightful surprise. I wasn’t expecting KC to be a woman. How unimaginative of me.” Manny was a suave, handsome man in his fifties. He wore a cream silk shirt, open at the neck, and tan slacks with a raw silk jacket, also in a cream color. He had a full head of dark hair, expensively styled, and eyes so dark they didn’t reveal any nuance of his thoughts.

KC put her large bag on the floor by her chair and smiled flirtatiously at Manny. “I hope you’re not disappointed to find I’m a woman?”

“Not at all, it is a pleasant surprise. I don’t often find women in this business. And certainly not women who look like you.”

The waiter discreetly stood at his elbow and they both looked to KC for instructions.

“I’ll have a Cosmopolitan up.” She smiled, giving her head a toss to settle her hair, causing her jacket to gape, flashing a quick view of her right breast.

“So,” Manny relaxed into his chair preparing to enjoy this meeting, “you’re new to Houston. How did you find me?”

“I may be new to Houston, but I assure you I know this business and I know how to find the ‘man.’ And I understand, in Houston, you are the ‘man.’ Of course I wanted to make contact with you in person. And I appreciate your willingness to meet with me.” She could see he was interested, so she leaned forward, her jacket gaping even more generously. “Times are tough. It’s becoming harder and harder to get quality product these days. I imagine you’re feeling the pinch here, just as those on the West Coast are.”

He nodded slowly. “The increased security measures at the border since Nine-eleven have been wreaking havoc on my business. I admit it’s going directly to the bottom line. And at the same time demand continues to be strong. I’m feeling the pinch and right now I’m very interested in finding new sources. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have agreed to meet with a complete stranger, no matter how good the connections. But hard times make for hard decisions. Right?”

The waiter arrived with their drinks and they each took a sip. Then KC started her pitch.

“I have perfected a new process which results in an outstanding end product. I can convert an unrecognizable material into a choice finished product. I can get the stuff through the border with no problems, which means I can deliver quality product on a consistent schedule.

“My product is more expensive than what you’re used too, true, but the quality is so superior you will find it will go twice as far.”

Manny shrugged, feigning indifference. “Why should I trust you? I’ve got sources I trust.”

“Well, I know you did, but are they still so reliable? I understand most of the product is being intercepted before it gets close to Houston. I hear it’s going to get worse before it gets better.” She smiled at him. “And I don’t think you’ll have much success in bringing it in from other hubs, because they’re having the same problems. They don’t have enough to spare some for you.

“No, I suspect if you’re going to maintain control of your market you’re going to need a new source of product. Even though you’ve managed to both import and distribute product in the past, times have changed. Now it’s important to think outside the box. Now is the time to do what other big businesses are doing so successfully, outsourcing. Let someone else carry the risk and expense of supplying your product.”

Manny sat looking at her so intently that if she had been a less confident person she might have been intimidated just by his eyes.

“How do I know this isn’t a sting? You waltz in here promising the moon. You don’t look like you’ve got the balls to deliver.”

“I can deliver. I’m not alone; I represent a very powerful organization. Admittedly this is the first of these operations we’ve set up, but it won’t be the last. We’ve developed a new process and we’ll have manufacturing plants throughout the country. If you don’t want to work with us,” she shrugged and this time when her jacket moved, Manny didn’t even notice as he was too involved in what she was saying to be distracted. “If you don’t want to do business with us, others will. The key to our success is our ability to bring in the product with no threat of discovery. That means we don’t have to sneak around with little loads; we can fill the trucks, which allows us to consistently deliver a reliable product. That means our client, whoever that is, will end up at the top.”

She finished her Cosmopolitan. “And as far as this being a sting operation, there is always that risk. But you agreed to this meeting on the advice of our mutual colleague on the East Coast. You must have some trust in his endorsement.”

She leaned down to the floor and picked up her purse. “I have a little gift for you.” She removed a small leather covered box from her bag and placed it on the table in front of Manny. “Sorry, no bow, but still, I think you’ll enjoy this. Check it out. If you want to discuss this deal further, call me.” She laid a business card on the table, got up and left the club just as the band, which had returned to the stand, started playing once more.

She didn’t look back so she didn’t see the gesture Manny made to the man standing near the door. She paid no attention as the man followed her outside and then joined two other men in a car waiting in the lot. After the valet delivered her car she turned on to Westheimer heading east. She didn’t see the car, which had preceded her out of the lot, pull away from the curb where it had been idling and pull into the traffic several cars behind her.

Westheimer was a main thoroughfare across town and even this late at night supported heavy traffic, at least until after it crossed Montrose and then became Elgin. There the traffic thinned dramatically, slowed by the rough streets and the roadwork being done to bury the cables, pipes and utilities to support the redevelopment effort which was upgrading the whole area. On both sides of the road massive construction of lofts and town homes was in progress, causing intermittent blockage of lanes, requiring careful navigation in order to reach the Eastex Freeway. It was not a good area to be at this time of night; while the construction promised a bright future, it was still too close to its ghetto-like past to be safe. The few who used the street were either lost or just seeking the fastest way to the freeway; most people would rather drive through town to get on the Forty-Five North and then cut over to the Eastex at Interstate Ten.

Her phone rang. She fished it out of her bag and flipped it open. “Yeah?”

“You were right. You have company about two cars back.”

She felt a flash of rage. “That stupid Manny. He thinks I’m easy because I’m a girl. Well, we’ll show him. Take them out.”

“What? Are you sure?” The voice on the phone couldn’t conceal his shock at her order. “I mean..., well, what I mean is, won’t it make him mad?”

“You heard me. Take care of them. So what if it makes him mad? For sure it will convince him this is no sting operation. And it will make it clear to him he can’t screw around with me. Take them out!” She ground out those last three words in a harsh voice. But after she disconnected she allowed herself a cold chuckle, wishing she could be there to see Manny’s face when he heard the news.

The dark blue Lincoln with the three men got caught at the red light and had to wait for the cross traffic. They weren’t worried. They could see their target waiting at the light in the next block. They didn’t even notice the car come up beside them in the left hand turn lane, until that is, the window came down and the muzzle started spewing destruction. Then it was too late for them to be concerned.

The light turned green and the shooters’ car turned left quickly speeding down the street leaving the Lincoln idling with its load of gore blocking the intersection. The next car came to a halt behind it and impatiently sounded its horn until finally the driver swung into the left hand turn lane to go around, pausing briefly to make an angry finger gesture at the driver. To his horror he found himself staring at blood and gore sprayed throughout the interior of the stalled car.

*  *  *

Claire settled into the back corner of the van, content to watch the scenery go by as Jack carried the conversational burden for them. The driver had told them they would be the last off and directed them to the far back row of seats. She watched as the others clamored into the van, wondering how the driver would find room to load all the luggage these people had piled on the curb. She and Jack had packed very little, a large backpack for him and a medium-sized wheelie bag for her. Jack always traveled light and he encouraged her to leave most of what she had laid out behind. He said if they needed something they could buy it. She tried to follow his advice, but she still ended up using a medium-sized wheelie bag when she felt she couldn’t leave any more behind.

The other passengers in the van included two couples, who were from Chicago. One of those men shared the last row of seats with Claire and Jack while his wife, his brother and his sister-in-law sat in the seat in front of them. The seats behind the driver held a couple from Houston and one of the pair of women from Portland, who were attending an advanced language course. The other woman sat in the shotgun seat. The two women seemed a little apprehensive about the town and especially about eating in the local restaurants. The man sitting beside Jack had been to San Miguel many times, and he and the couple from Houston talked about some of their favorite restaurants and assured the Portland women that they would be safe eating in any of the restaurants listed in the Insider’s Guide to San Miguel.

The brother and sister-in-law of the Chicago couple had never been to San Miguel but seemed full of good spirits. They said they got tired of hearing how wonderful San Miguel was and decided they needed to come and see for themselves. And what better time to get out of Chicago, they declared, than in March? Already, just driving through the sunshine, they could tell they had made a wise decision.

The man from Houston said he and his wife usually came down for August to get out of Houston’s heat, but this year they decided to come in March and in August. They were thinking about buying a little place here and wanted to check out the weather in the winter.

“Houston’s a great city but August and March are good months to be somewhere else,” his wife agreed, nodding vigorously.

“Don’t forget, if you’re here on Sunday, check out the House Tour. It’s really lovely and it gives you a chance to tour some of the homes of the people who live here.” The Houston wife announced to the van, “If we buy here we will definitely make our house available. It’s such a wonderful way to raise money for the library’s children programs.”

Then in answer to a question from one of the Portland ladies, she launched into a description of the library, which she called Biblioteca Publica, with its charming patio, large collection of English language books, computer room and delightful café. Claire decided she and Jack would be visiting there soon. She admitted to herself, once a librarian, always a librarian.

Their driver announced they had arrived in San Miguel de Allende when they reached a large intersection with a roundabout and a large statue in the middle. Claire watched with interest as the city was revealed street by street. As the van progressed into town the colorful procession of buildings lined both sides of the street. Shops were interspersed among the houses and she noticed with interest several that contained antiques and decorative items which she thought would be fun to browse through for a while. But the driver was on a mission. He navigated the streets turning down some tiny lanes, more like alleys, where the van could barely make the turn into the street. Here the buildings were attached to each other, marching up and down the street at different levels. The doors opened right on the sidewalk so any steps needed for access were built out over the walkway itself blocking much of the sidewalk. As the streets were barely wide enough for the traffic, pedestrians had to make their way over or around these steps as well as skirt the power poles and sections of broken pavement in order to negotiate the street. Claire saw women herding their children while carrying bulky packages moving with stoic determination up and down the street ignoring the danger of the vehicles.

Their driver was very skillful. He drove the van through the teeming streets with aplomb, off-loading passengers and baggage in front of each destination before moving on to the next stop. The two women from Portland were staying at a residence, which they said was similar to a boarding house, while the couple from Houston got out at an attractive looking hotel near the center of town. Claire watched them enter through the beautiful courtyard with its plants, colorful scarlet bougainvillea and tables and chairs.

The two couples from Chicago alighted in front of a large complex which they said had been converted into condos for rent. The outside of the complex looked like a fine old hotel, but Claire couldn’t see whether or not there was a nice courtyard. Finally the driver twisted and turned down a series of streets to pull up in front of a stucco wall broken only by a faded blue wooden door. By the time Claire extracted herself from her corner in the van, the driver had already deposited their luggage on the curb and was tucking Jack’s tip in his pocket.

They stood there a moment looking after the retreating van, then gazed up and down the street. Claire couldn’t help the stab of concern in her gut. The neighborhood looked a little grim. The dark stone used for the street and sidewalks was old and damaged in several places. Some spots had been repaired with cement, some were just gaping holes partially filled with the remains of the last rain shower. There was no vegetation in sight except for a few tree tops peeking over the top of the wall. Mostly they saw walls and garage-like doors lining both sides of the street. However, it looked like there was a small market on the corner with an open door and some fruit on a stand outside.

Jack grinned. “Perhaps a step down from the posh hotel where the Houston couple is staying, but let’s see what it looks like inside.” He pressed the button near the door.

The door was opened by a smiling, middle-aged, Mexican woman. “Come in, come in,” she beckoned as she hurried to grab their luggage still sitting on the curb.

They stepped into an oasis. The flagstone courtyard was filled with lush vegetation, a large fountain burbled in the center, comfortable looking chairs and tables were placed strategically to enjoy the view of the flowers. Butterflies glided amongst the blooms and a small breeze wafted a tantalizing scent past their noses.

“I am Helen Marie; I clean and cook if you like.”

Jack and Claire introduced themselves, shaking Helen Marie’s hand, before they followed her into the house built around the courtyard.

Helen Marie explained in her heavily accented and very rudimentary English about the water system which purified all the water. She came every day to clean and she would cook and shop if they wanted her to do that. Suddenly the bells started to ring. It sounded like a nearby church, but soon others joined in, until the clamor began bouncing off the hills. Bells ringing and ringing in so many sounds, it was hard to separate them or make sense of the sequence of the peals. Claire glanced at her watch and saw it was past the hour. She glanced at Jack and put her hands over her ears. He turned to Helen Marie and spoke to her in her own language.

Helen Marie responded in a torrent of words as she led them through the house, plainly pleased not to have to labor over communicating in a burdensome foreign language. Jack had an interested look pasted on his face and every now and again he nodded encouraging her. Claire hoped he was getting enough from the conversation to explain it all to her later.

She had been pleased to learn that Spanish was one of Jack’s languages, but not really surprised. She knew he was fluent in Italian, French and a couple of Slavic languages, which he said helped him in his work. Once they started discussing a visit to San Miguel, he had immediately started watching the Spanish language channels on the TV in order, he said, to update his language and to hone his accent.

Claire had about six years of Spanish in school but wasn’t at all confident in her ability to carry on a conversation. She could identify a few words but found it difficult to extract words she knew from the torrent of confusing sounds she had heard at the airport and now from Helen Marie.

Eventually Helen Marie left them and their luggage in the master bedroom in the back corner of the house and headed happily to the front.

Jack said, “She’ll cook for us if we want or she can just come in for a couple hours each day to clean, make the beds and take care of the patio. What do you prefer?”

Claire looked at Jack, considering her choices. Her face flushed a little, still slightly uncomfortable about having Jack so intimately involved in her life.

“I think cleaning only. I’m not crazy about having someone around all the time. We can go out to eat or do what little cooking we want ourselves, can’t we? And shopping will be fun, don’t you think?”

“I was hoping you’d say that. Why don’t I tell her to come in about eleven o’clock each day for a couple of hours to clean? By that time we’ll probably be out and about anyway. I’ll tell her if we change our minds, we’ll let her know?”

Claire nodded, grateful he was going to take care of it. Helen Marie probably wanted the work, but she felt she and Jack needed some quality time to themselves. And this secluded little house was going to be perfect for that. It would be like having a honeymoon cottage.

That thought started a blush she couldn’t stop. Fortunately, no one was there to see her heat suffused face. It annoyed her that she wasn’t more sophisticated about her relationship with Jack. They had been sharing her bed since he had been well enough to insist. She loved being with him and loved the fact they were a couple, but somehow she felt telling people they were living together, was saying too much about their private relationship. She remembered how awkward she felt when her mother first came over to see Jack. Of course her mother had met Jack when they were in Venice the previous spring. Claire knew it was silly to be uncomfortable. After all, she was a mature woman, a business owner, and yet sometimes she felt like a school girl. And what was even sillier was that her mother was obviously not bothered at all to see Jack was living with her daughter. No, her mother accepted it very well, enthusiastically in fact. Claire sighed, she knew she’d get over it; she just needed some time.

She finished putting her clothes away, and wandered back through the house to find Jack.

“There you are. Has Helen Marie gone?”

Jack was sprawled out in a chair on the patio, his feet propped up on a stool, a frosty glass of something in his hand.

“She left a few minutes ago, but not until she went to the store and then mixed up this batch of Margaritas for us. Sit down and I’ll pour you one.”

“Should you drink these? I mean, what about the pain pills you’re taking?”

Jack smiled. “I didn’t take any today. I was anticipating this. It’s a much more enjoyable method of pain control.”

Claire took a sip, it was marvelous. “Helen Marie makes a mean drink; maybe we should reconsider having her cook for us.”

“No, I think it was the right decision. I’ve been sitting here watching that bee buzz around the flowers and enjoying the sun. She said it might rain for a little while in the afternoons, and it will be cool enough for a sweater at night, but otherwise it will be just like this most of the time. I think we made a wise decision to come here. I feel better already.”

They sat there, soaking up the sun, sipping the tart frosty drinks, enjoying the quiet, their hands clasped, letting all thoughts of their world slip away. Either the Margaritas or the sun was having a stupefying effect, and when the little bell on the gate started clanging, they both jumped as if they were being woken from a sound sleep.

“Who do you suppose that is?”

“Well, there’s one way to find out.” Jack unfolded his limbs and ambled over to the gate. Already he was moving on vacation time.

He returned leading a man. “Claire, this is Teddy Hatchett, a friend of Vern and Mike’s.”

“Oh, don’t get up, Claire. You look like you’ve settled in already. I’m sorry to disturb you so soon after your arrival, but I promised Vern I would do my best to make sure you had a great time here.” Teddy had a light, almost fruity voice but then he dropped its tone dramatically as he whispered, “We’re so disappointed they aren’t able to come, but we’re glad they sent friends.”

Claire took Teddy’s outstretched hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s very nice to meet you, Teddy. Vern and Mike told me what a good friend you’ve been to them. And you’re the one who found this delightful house for them to rent. We just love it. “

Jack pulled another chair close to theirs for Teddy and then took the Margarita pitcher into the kitchen.

“This patio is wonderful, isn’t it? The house belongs to some people I know, Ellen and Guy Pruitt, who lived here for many years. Unfortunately, Ellen was diagnosed with breast cancer and they went back to the States to get the treatment she needed. They’ve been leasing it out since then. We’re all hoping they will be back soon.”

“Well, I can see that the house was loved. The whole place has been decorated and planted so beautifully. I have to admit when the car dropped us off in the street I was a little worried, but once Helen Marie opened the door we were delighted.”

“Yes, well that’s the way things are here. From the street it’s hard to see what the houses look like, but once you get in the door it’s all different. You should be sure to take the house tour the library has each Sunday. You’ll be thrilled by the houses you’ll see. Just go to the Biblioteca Publica and pay your money.”

“Yes, one of the ladies in the van from the airport with us told us about it. We’re planning to do that.”

Jack returned with a tray holding bowls of chips and salsa, as well as the full pitcher and a glass for Teddy.

Teddy took a sip, nodded his approval. “Well, you know how to make a passable Margarita, so you must be okay.” Then he bent over to pick up the large envelope he had laid at his feet when he sat down.

“I had put a package of materials together for the guys and I thought you could use it instead. Here’s a simple map of the town. See there’s where your house is, and here’s the Jardin. The Jardin is what we call the little park in front of the church in the middle of town. Everything in town revolves around the Jardin, you’ll see. It’s very common for the citizens to gather there every day to socialize, to get the newspapers and see what’s happening.

“Here’s a list of restaurants that serve food I guarantee is safe for you to eat. Here’s a list of places of interest you may want to include in your visit. And here, most importantly, is the number for Raphael. He has a car for hire. He’s a super driver; he has a very comfortable car and is very knowledgeable of the area. He will take you to some of the towns, like Guanajuato or Delores Hidalgo, places you really need to see while you’re here.”

Jack leaned forward looking through the papers as Teddy continued to point out items of interest.

Claire looked at Teddy, trying to decide how old he was. He had short, blonde hair, bleached almost white, but still showing dark at the roots. His beard was apparently very light, as he didn’t have even a hint of a five o’clock shadow on his tanned face. He had bright blue eyes. He was slender and probably about Jack’s height, which was about five feet, eight inches. He wore leather sandals on bare feet, lightweight cotton pants in medium blue, and a gauzy white shirt, full like a woman’s blouse, tucked into his pants and then belted with a fabric tie in white, blue and orange. It was a very tropical outfit but it seemed right for him. Claire remembered Vern said he had been friends with Teddy since the seventies, so she reasoned he had to be at least in his fifties. But he looked far younger than she was.

Suddenly she became aware that both men were looking at her with expectation and she had no idea what they said. “I’m sorry, I think I zoned out. What did you say?”

“Oh, that’s easy around here. I frequently just drift off. But I was telling Jack about Mama Mia’s. It’s one of the favorite local restaurants around the corner from the Jardin. They have good food, several bars and music every night. Anyway, tonight I’ll be there with my partner, Jeff Avery, and a few friends so I suggested you might want to join us and meet a few of the locals.”

Claire started to nod, but then she remembered to look at Jack first. She was learning that being part of a couple meant considering your partner’s opinion before making decisions. Jack’s nod was almost imperceptible, but his message was clear enough for Claire. “We’d love to Teddy, but we can’t stay late. Jack is still recovering from a very serious accident and needs to get his rest.”

Teddy looked at Jack closely. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. You look so healthy, but of course, stay as long as you can. Around here you’ll find that people do like to party late, so we frequently take advantage of the afternoon siesta.

“Jeff will be glad to hear you’re joining us. He couldn’t come today, but he wanted to meet you. We’ve heard so much about you from Mike and Vern, you know, we feel like you’re old friends.

“Now the address for the restaurant is on the list and of course, it’s casual dress. We’ll be there about eight thirty so come any time after that and you’ll find us. I’d better be going or I’ll miss siesta myself.” Teddy stood up and offered his hand again to Claire and then abruptly pulled his hand back and smacked himself on the forehead with it. “I can’t believe I almost forget the main reason for my visit. Jeff and I are having our big party Thursday night. Everyone will be there and of course we want you to come. This is the big event that finally enticed Vern and Mike to visit us, so it’s only fair that you take their place. Please say you’ll come.”

Claire looked at Jack, but couldn’t read anything from his expression, then remembering Vern’s comment about the lifestyle of his friends she decided to be cautious, suggesting, “Can we talk about it tonight when we see you at Mama Mia’s? That will give us a chance to figure out our schedule while we’re here.”

“Of course, of course. But I promise you, it’s going to be such a blast you won’t want to miss it. Everyone will be there. We’ll talk about it later. See you later.”

The bells started ringing again. First one, then another joined in; soon the peals were bouncing off the walls.

Claire shook her head as if to rid herself of the ringing.

“Teddy, what is the reason for the bells. That’s the second time since we’ve been here and it doesn’t seem to be announcing a certain hour.”

Teddy laughed. “San Miguel is full of churches and they all have bells. Sometimes they ring to announce mass or other services; sometimes they ring for religious holidays. Some ring at specific times of the day and then they ring for prayers. Anyone can request a ringing for their own purpose, somewhat like lighting a candle.” He laughed again. “Frankly, I suspect they sometimes ring them just because the other bells are ringing and they don’t want to be left out.

“But because we’re in a valley the sound just bounces off the hills, magnifying the sound. But, you’ll get used to it and won’t even notice them after a day or two.” He waved at Claire and followed Jack to the door. “See you tonight,” he reminded them as he left.

CHAPTER 2

When KC emerged from her office, she didn’t look like the woman she had been earlier. Now she wore soft, old jeans and a light green sweater. Now her hair had been gathered into a plastic clip and subdued against the back of her head. The high-heeled sandals had been replaced by Nikes, scuffed and worn. Her face was scrubbed clean of all make-up and she looked younger, less sophisticated, but her eyes were still dark and cold. This time they were focused on the two men sitting at the table in the kitchenette area.

“George,” she used the Mexican pronunciation, Hor-hey, “don’t ever question my orders again!”

He looked at her thoughtfully; then explained softly. “I wasn’t questioning your authority, Kathleen. I just wanted to make sure I understood you correctly. After all, it wasn’t something we could correct if we got it wrong. And I know how important it is to you, to all of us, that we get this right.”

She helped herself to a beer out of the refrigerator and popped the cap before taking a long chug of it. She sat down at one of the empty chairs. “I heard it on the scanner.” She nodded her head toward the little radio which now was playing so softly it was hard to understand the constant stream of words coming out of it. Her face showed a grim determination. “Manny Hillerman should be changing his thinking about me and my business proposition just about now. You’re right, George. He’s going to be mad, but I think that will be good for us. He was just playing with me tonight. He wasn’t even considering a business deal. He thought he would just have his men follow me to the source and help themselves.

“He’s gotten too big. He’s too sure of himself. He will be reconsidering things now. And, after he analyzes that little gift I gave him, he will be falling all over himself to make a deal with us.” She chuckled, anticipating his capitulation. She considered the evening a big success.

“What next?” Gary spoke up. Unlike George he had no qualms about pulling the trigger, in fact he liked it. It was what he did and he did it well.

“I think we’ll let Mr. Hillerman think about this deal for a little while. Time will only make him more eager to deal with me, and he’ll be less likely to object to our prices. Meanwhile, I’m going with Carlos, we will share the driving and go right through. I’ll be back here next week with the first full shipment. I expect you will have finished processing everything by then and will have worked out any of the little bugs in the process. You need to be ready for a big load when we get back.” She looked at both men carefully. “You can reach me on my cell if you need me. Be very careful. Don’t take any chances. We’ve got too much riding on this operation.”

They nodded solemnly; they weren’t just hired help. They differed from the goons who worked for Hillerman. They were men at war. They were engaged in a holy battle to free their people. George and Gary were committed to its success.

Unfortunately, the terrorists acts of Nine-eleven were as devastating to their cause as it was to the rest of the United States. The shock of that atrocity had effectively dried up the monetary support which had always flowed generously from sympathizers in the United States to the coffers of the Irish underground. Suddenly, just when their colleagues in Ireland were making overtures of peace with the English, when they needed more than ever to escalate their own acts of terrorism, they were faced with the possibility of defeat due to a lack of funding. They had to devise new methods to fund their mission. Kathleen and the Boss had hatched this scheme and it was a beauty. They would still look to the United States for the majority of their funds albeit from less glamorous sources than the former contributions from successful businessmen of Irish descent.

Just then lights shone through the painted front windows letting them know the truck had arrived. Kathleen went into her office for her small suitcase, grabbed her backpack and headed for the front of the big cavernous building they had leased in the industrial section of Humble, a tiny town sitting just northeast of Houston. The building was divided into sections. The front of the first section had been set up to display DE Imports’ products, as if they were a legitimate business. Then there was the storage room which housed beds, a television and the bathroom for George and Gary to use. Across from the storage room was the lunch room and Kathleen’s office. Beside that section, separated by solid walls, was the processing plant. The loading dock was beside the front door and in front of the processing section. The area right inside was partitioned off so when the doors to the loading dock were opened the processing plant was still protected from casual glances of passersby. It was a well thought-out set up. They were confident they could operate here for a long time without discovery. In the few months since they had moved in they had only a few visitors, an occasional salesman and once, someone from the local Chamber of Commerce. These visitors only saw what they were intended to see, an expanding business settling in. No one asked what DE meant, and Kathleen would never have said it was a constant reminder of their goal, Death to the English.

Carlos got down from the cab to stow Kathleen’s luggage behind their seats, while Kathleen supervised Gary and George loading the truck with the boxes waiting. The Boss had insisted the truck be used to bring down goods that were hard for the expatriates to obtain locally, thus giving him a chance to ingratiate himself to the community, make a little money and establish his role as a businessman. And as he explained to Kathleen, it looked much less suspicious for the truck to carry a load in each direction. So now they were loading computer equipment, DVD’s, even certain food products they had been instructed to acquire.

When everything was loaded to Kathleen’s satisfaction, the truck was closed and locked. “I’ll drive first, Carlos. I won’t be able to sleep right now, so you may as well.”

Carlos nodded and climbed into the shotgun seat, belted himself in and immediately slumped against the door to sleep.

Kathleen settled herself, started the truck and competently backed it into the deserted road before shifting gears and heading for the freeway. She stopped just before swinging on to the freeway in order to purchase a large soft drink from the mini-mart attached to a large gas station, then she was ready to put on some miles. She swung on to the Eastex Freeway and headed west for Victoria. There she would be taking the Seventy-seven south toward Harlingen and then cross into Mexico near McAllen. It would be a shorter drive to stay on Fifty-nine to Laredo and cross there, but given the recent crime spree in Nuevo Laredo, she decided the miles saved weren’t worth the risk of losing the truck, the load and perhaps their lives.

She liked driving at night; it gave her plenty of time to think and to plan. The truck was in good shape and easy to handle. There was very little traffic on the road at this hour, and she could just burn up the miles at her own pace. And when she got tired, she’d wake Carlos to take a turn at the wheel.

It wasn’t until she finally turned on to Route Number Seventy-seven in Victoria that she was ready to think about that day so long ago. She never tired of dredging up the memory, of recalling each tiny detail. She didn’t mind the pain, the horror of living it over. She relished it; she never wanted to forget any of it. It was what kept her going. It gave her the strength to do what she needed to do.

*  *  *

“Where’s Stu?” she asked when she didn’t see her uncle in the living room with Pap and the others.

Pap nodded his head toward the back of the house as he turned his attention back to the heated conversation with his sons. Kathleen headed down the hall. She glanced in the kitchen as she passed. Ma and Colleen had already joined Granny, Aunt Jillian and Maureen there to help prepare the Sunday meal. Aunt Jillian was sitting at the big table bouncing little Michael on her knee, and Colleen was trying to coax a smile from him. Ordinarily, she would have been right there with Colleen trying to convince Aunt Jillian she was big enough to hold Michael, maybe even to feed him his bottle, but right now she was more interested in finding her Uncle Stuart. Unlike the other three uncles, Sean, Seamus and Pat, in the living room talking politics with Pa and Pap, Stuart was only sixteen and still young enough for Kathleen to feel a special kinship with him. Right now she wanted to see if he had any of the new American rock albums to play for her.

“Kathleen,” her Granny called to her as she passed.

She paused, loath to be drawn into the kitchen. “Yes, Granny,” she said politely.

“If you’re going back to see Stu tell him I need him to run a bit of dinner over to Mrs. McGuire for me. That’s a good girl.” Then turning back to Kathleen’s mother she said, “Poor woman is just doing so poorly. I swear I don’t know if she’ll make it much longer.”

“Stu,” Kathleen called shyly when she approached the open door of his room. “Stu, Granny wants you to run over to Mrs. McGuire’s with a plate of food. Can I go with you? Can I, Stu?”

Stuart put down the book he was studying and got to his feet. “I don’t know, Kathleen. I’m going to take my bike. Can you sit on the back and hold on to the food the whole way?”

She nodded, holding her breath, just hoping he would agree.

He looked at her seriously and then smiled. “Okay, if your Ma says all right, you can go.”

He headed for the kitchen with Kathleen dancing excitedly behind him.

She couldn’t believe her luck as she rode down the road, sitting on the little seat mounted over the back wheel of Stu’s bike while she clung to the basket of food with one hand and used her other arm to clutch around her uncle’s waist.

Poor Mrs. McGuire was hollow-eyed and gray of face. She could barely get to the door to let them in and was pathetically grateful for the dinner they brought her. It took them a little while to warm the food and serve it to her, and by the time they returned to Granny and Pap’s house it was too late.

The street was cordoned off a block away from the house by large army transport vehicles and armored cars.

“Hey, you two kids, get off the street. Go home. Go on, hurry. None of this concerns you.”

Stuart backed his bike away, not saying a word, although both of them knew it did concern them. Of course it did.

Without saying a word Stuart pedaled furiously around the area and tried to approach from the other side only to find another barricade. But by this time the shooting had begun. From this point they could see, for sure, that it was Granny and Pap’s house which was the target of this attack. And from the bullets whining around them, it was apparent the Sullivans weren’t going down peacefully. Stuart and Kathleen abandoned the bike to duck behind a car, then they dashed around the corner of a building for protection.

By then they could hear explosions, most likely the result of the odd looking guns they had seen the soldiers setting up which were apparently shooting grenades at the house.

“What are they doing?” Kathleen wailed. “What’s happening?”

“Shush,” Stuart cautioned her, his face contorted with anxiety. Just then a huge explosion rocked the building they were hiding behind, causing chunks of mortar and bits of roof to rain down on them. They couldn’t hear anything for a moment, and then they realized it was because a deadly silence had fallen. They backed away, eyes wide with horror. Now they heard yelling as the soldiers moved in, and screaming from the wounded. Stuart grabbed Kathleen’s hand, yelling, “Run. Run as fast as you can.”

They heard the motors and ducked into a space behind some bins in an alley. They saw the armored carriers pass; then they ran again.

Some friends of the family took them in, what better place to hide than amongst a passel of kids. They were two more and no one could distinguish these two Sullivan children from the actual children of the family.

Their entire family had been obliterated in the time it took to deliver a meal to a failing old lady. Stuart grimly told Kathleen not to feel guilty about surviving; they were meant to be spared. He said it was so they could see the English bastards paid for this atrocity.

Later the papers had a lot to say about the incident. They said one of the grenades lobbed into the building had ignited explosives stored in the basement causing the blast. Some said the English soldiers killed in the blast deserved it for meddling in local affairs. Others said it was fortunate all those Sullivans had been wiped out as they were extremists and terrorists as evidenced by the explosives they had accumulated.

Kathleen just mourned the loss of her other self, her twin who was like her reflection in the mirror, the softer more gentle side of her. She grieved for the loss of Granny, who always thought about others less fortunate, such as Mrs. McGuire, who needed a hot meal. And baby Michael, who wasn’t a terrorist. He really didn’t know how to do anything but gurgle and coo. And she hated the English with a burning passion, because they had wiped all trace of her loved ones from the earth.

*  *  *

They were later than they meant to be when they finally entered Mama Mia’s. The noise was deafening, with the rock band and the conversations vying to be heard over each other. And it was confusing, the man at the door indicated there were several bars to choose from, but in the end motioned them to go through to the back where they also served food.

Claire craned her neck to see over Jack’s shoulder as he led them through the tables to the area that seemed to be designated the dining room. It was dim, lit by shaded lights and candles. The tables were crowded together leaving very little space to get through.

Jack tugged at her hand. “There,” he said.

She saw Teddy, standing, waving to them.

When they reached him, Teddy shook Jack’s hand and gave Claire a hug shouting in her ear, “So glad you made it. I was afraid you were lost.”

He put his hand on a man’s shoulder and when he jumped to his feet turning around, he introduced him. “Jeff, here are Vern and Mike’s friends, Claire and Jack.”

Jeff was a very large black man with a friendly face and a sweet smile half hidden by his unruly beard. He nodded at them and used his hand to suggest they sit down.

Teddy grabbed a couple of chairs from the table behind them and shoved them up to the crowded table. Then blessedly the music stopped, and the musicians showed every indication of taking a break.

“Hey, Graves move over a bit so I can fit these chairs in.”

The man obligingly scooted his chair over before standing up and turning to be introduced. He was slender, of medium height, totally hairless, with a small gold hoop in his right ear. And while his slightly sardonic smile didn’t falter, Claire noticed how his eyes widened slightly as he looked at them. Suddenly beads of sweat appeared on that bald head.

He coughed, “Sorry.” He pulled a snowy hanky from his pocket and blotted his forehead. “Hot peppers,” he muttered sheepishly, “I love them and can’t help piling them on, but sometimes they get to me, you know?” He grabbed his drink and took a swallow before turning back to them. “Now, I didn’t get your names. I’m Graves.”

Claire took his hand. “I’m Claire and this is Jack. We’re visiting from San Francisco.”

“Lovely town, I love visiting it. One of the most beautiful cities in the world, I’d say.”

Jack nodded cordially, shaking Graves’ hand.

Teddy took advantage of the momentary silence to introduce them to everyone around the table, explaining they were staying in the Pruitts’ house. After nodding and smiling in response to the greetings from around the table they all sat down.

“Hope pizza is all right with you, they have other dishes on the menu, but this was the choice for the night.” Teddy sat forward to talk around Jeff.

Jack had already helped himself to a piece, so Claire just nodded. She liked pizza. Glasses appeared; beer was poured, even as the waiter arrived with another pizza and two more pitchers.

Jeff Avery, sitting next to Claire, entertained her with amusing descriptions of the others at the table when there were lulls in the conversation.

“That’s Bill and his partner Barry on the other side of Teddy. He’s from Silicon Valley, one of the lucky ones who cashed in his stock options. He makes no bones about living well off his spoils. Barry is a hair stylist and still works at it. He sees clients in a little shop he’s set up in their house. They’ve been here for a couple of years now and have really settled in.” He muttered for Claire’s ears only.

“Next to Barry is Monica. She taught art in a junior college in Minnesota for years but said she had enough snow and ice. She moved here about a year ago. I’m not sure if she’s retired, I think she looks too young for that. But you can live well down here cheaply, so maybe she came into some money and doesn’t need to work. But she’s full of energy. You wouldn’t believe all the things she’s involved in here. And of course she paints. I have one of her pieces in my dining room. When you come to our party I’ll point it out to you.”

Jeff’s attention was diverted by the story Barry was telling about one of his clients and a tourist in the Jardin. After the laughter died away and the conversations began again amongst the people around the table, Jeff continued as if his narrative hadn’t been interrupted. “The man next to Monica is Xavier. He never says much about his past, but he listens well. And obviously, he pleases Monica as they live together.

“Next to her are the Mondot sisters, Lucille and Margery. They are very French, even though they lived in Chicago for many years. They are musicians; I believe of some stature, but now retired. Lucille plays the piano and Margery the cello, and I know they are very good musicians because on occasion they play for us. They are very involved in the Music Festival held here every summer.”

“And the attractive lady next to them?” Claire prompted, eyeing the woman across the table who was engaged in a conversation with the man sitting next to the bald-headed man.

“Isobelle? Ah, our Isobelle. She designs and makes that stunning jewelry she’s wearing. She has a shop near the Bellas Artes. She’s very successful. She’s talking to Steve Carter. He’s retired military, as anyone can tell by his posture. I don’t know where Steve’s wife is tonight, but they are both very involved in local projects. So tonight she must be busy with one of hers. She’ll be at our party Thursday and you’ll meet her then. She’s very efficient and organized. It must be all those years of living on military bases all over the world.”

“And the bald man? Who is he? For a moment there I thought I knew him from somewhere, but I guess I don’t, as I’m sure I’d remember him.” Claire saw Jack was now totally engrossed in a conversation with him and Steve Carter.

“Ah, Graves has been coming here periodically for many years. However, last year he said he was ready to settle down and he’s been here ever since. I think he’s starting up some kind of business here. He’s an important part of the local scene, very well liked.”

Jeff described his own work in ceramic sculptures. He sold most through one of the local galleries. “I am limited in the commissions I accept, because shipping from here is very expensive and very iffy. You never know what shape the piece will be in at its destination. But fortunately the galleries sell enough to keep me solvent. And of course, Teddy tells me not to worry about money. That’s well and good for him, he has no money worries being the only son of a very wealthy family, but I like to be financially independent. You know?”

Claire nodded, understanding that sentiment completely. She had managed to finish the piece of pizza Jeff had put on her plate and agreed to another from the fresh one just delivered. Meanwhile, she noticed that no one let the glasses of beer get low. There seemed to be an endless stream of pitchers of beer coming from the bar to their table. It was a congenial group with lots of laughter and sharing of stories. She mostly listened, responding to questions a couple of times. Later when yet another couple joined them, Cindy and Bart, everyone shifted, more chairs were found and somehow squeezed into place.

Teddy reached around Jeff to hand Claire a heavy cream envelope.

“Your invitation, my dear. It has all the information. Any taxi driver can find us. Come early so we can show you our house.”

Claire dropped the envelope in her bag, which she had placed between her feet on the floor.

“Teddy gets very enthused about these things, but I hope you and Jack will join us. I think you’ll have a good time and I would like to show you some of my work. I have a studio built on the back of the property.” Jeff was very gracious.

“We’ll try, but Jack is still recovering from a terrible accident. I don’t know how he’ll be feeling. We take one day at a time.”

“Of course, I understand, and sometimes these parties do get a little wild. But please try; it would please Teddy so much.”

Just then a new band broke into what Claire thought of as raucous rock, and several of the people at the table got up to join others on the tiny dance floor. Conversation was no longer possible and they contented themselves watching the more active people gyrate to the beat. After a while, Jack nudged her and she nodded, smiled and waved to the others around the table, mouthed a thank you to Teddy and Jeff, then followed Jack out in to the relative quiet of the night.

They squeezed through the people clustered in front of Mama Mia’s enjoying the music which drifted out into the street, perhaps debating whether or not to go in. As if of one mind, they headed down the dark street toward the Jardin. It was late, but when they adjusted for the two hour difference to California time it seemed early. Still they were surprised by the numbers of people still in the Jardin. The Church facing it was elaborately lit to highlight its ornate façade. There were still stands selling snacks and drinks parked at the edge of the park in front of the church, and some determined flower vendors were still sitting in stone arches of the arcade along either side. There was even a toy vendor carrying a large bouquet of balloons and inflated plastic toys to tempt the few children still up.

“Jack, I didn’t pay anything toward the bill. Did you?” Claire suddenly remembered.

He nodded. “I slipped Jeff a few bills and told him to put it towards our share. I don’t know who was picking up the tab, but I thought we should contribute.”

She was relieved, grateful that Jack thought of it when she didn’t until just now. They sat on one of the benches in a strategic spot to watch people, while Claire shared Jeff’s descriptions of their tablemates. “I don’t know anything about Cindy and Bart; they’re the ones who arrived late. Do you?”

Jack shook his head. “No, it was an interesting mix of people though.”

“You know I keep feeling I know Graves from somewhere, but he’s rather unusual looking so I’m sure I’d remember him if I knew him.”

“Interesting fellow. He and Steve and I were talking about the problems of exporting. I guess moving goods across the border can be a little tricky these days, just more complications from Nine-eleven. I thought he looks a lot like Yul Brynner. Remember The King and I?”

“Of course he does. Maybe that’s why I keep thinking he’s someone I know. It’s probably the shape of his head, and that grin of his.” She felt better now; she could stop racking her brain to remember if she knew him.

CHAPTER 3

“Kathleen met with Hillerman, and she left him with a sample. I swear that girl is fearless. And I admit she’s a lot smarter than me. She suspected Manny might try to follow her and had us wait and follow her back. Sure enough, three guys in a big Lincoln were right behind her. I admit I thought she was being precipitous when she told us to take them out, but now, after thinking about it, I’m convinced she was just being bold.

“She’ll tell you all about it when she gets there. She and Carlos left with the truck a while ago.”

“She’s my girl.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable, as it came through the phone. “I told you she was ready to take charge.”

Then the tone of his voice changed as he confided, “George, I’ve just had a rather nasty jolt. I was having dinner with some people here and you’ll never guess who joined us?” His pause was minuscule; he rushed to tell, “Claire Gulliver. Remember her?”

“Christ! You’re kidding. What did you say? Did she recognize you?”

“No, of course not! She has no clue as to who I was. But I nearly lost it when I recognized her. And then if that wasn’t bad enough, that guy, Jack, our erstwhile tour director was with her. Didn’t you tell me he was CIA?”

“Yes, that’s what that guy, Neil, told me. Shit! They can only mean trouble for us. What are they doing there? Why are they together?”

“Those are all the questions I’ve been thinking about. It could be coincidence, but I’m not a big believer in coincidences. Do you think there’s been a leak?”

“Impossible. No one knows, but us and Kathleen. None of us would have leaked it. No, there is no way the word is out!”

“What about that guy Kathleen met with, Manny? Could he be on to us?”

“I don’t think so. He’s probably still reeling from losing his guys so suddenly to be thinking about how Kathleen is going to be able to supply him.” He continued, “I imagine he’s reassessing Kathleen’s proposal just about now. And probably looking for some more soldiers,” he added grimly.

“So what are you going to do about Claire and her friend? She just keeps turning up at the wrong time. Do you think we should put things on hold for a while?”

“Hell, no! We need the money and we’re too close to getting that pipeline flowing.” Determination rang in his voice, “We’ve got to get money coming in; we’ve got to be able to fund some action. I can’t believe how cozy and friendly everyone’s acting about this peace treaty. We’ve got to stop it or the English will have won.” Then as if realizing he was getting off track, he said thoughtfully, “No, I think it’s better if I just keep an eye on them for now. If necessary, I’ll take care of them. If their being here is a coincidence they’ll be leaving here in a few days, no wiser. If it isn’t, they’ll be shipped home in a box.”

“Well, you’re the boss. Meanwhile, expect Kathleen to arrive with Carlos and the truck sometime tomorrow. She can help you keep an eye on those two.”

*  *  *

“For sure, we need to buy some groceries. I need coffee to start my day.”

Jack sounded a little grumpy. In the short time they had been together Claire had already learned it took at least two cups of coffee to get him going in the morning. And while Teddy had assured them they wouldn’t even notice the bells after a while, they found it hard to believe when the clamor started at seven-thirty this morning, driving them out of their cozy bed before they were really ready to move.

“Okay, it’s first on the agenda, right after breakfast. What do you want to do about breakfast this morning?”

“I saw a little café on the corner across from the Jardin last night. We could try it. Then I could get a copy of the local paper Steve told me about. Supposedly it tells us everything we need to know about what’s going on here.”

“Well, I’m starved. Let’s go.”

The sun was bright and the day was warm already, so by mutual consent they strolled on the shady side of the street. They had learned last night going to Mama Mia’s that the altitude, combined with streets leading uphill to the Jardin, as well as the narrow sidewalks and cobblestone streets made brisk walking impossible. They wandered along glancing into the stores which were already open, watching the citizens of town going about their everyday business. Claire realized that even though they were vacationing, the citizens of San Miguel were not.

It turned out the little corner café, with its wall of French doors open to additional table and chairs sitting on the arcade, was a popular spot for breakfast. Jack and Claire stood in a little cluster of customers waiting for vacant tables, discreetly scanning the diners to see who was almost done, and checking out the contents of the laden plates being served. When they sat down Jack was pleased to find the coffee was excellent which probably had a lot to do with the popularity of the place. They even served cappuccinos and lattes. That’s what Claire ordered; a frothy latte, a plate of fruit and a generous basket of fresh warm rolls. Jack was getting his appetite back and was able to put away an order of French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon and fresh orange juice.

“If you’re going to eat like this every morning we’re going to need a load of groceries. Should we make a list?”

“No, let’s just pick up what we see. We won’t forget the coffee, and we might want to get some limes and Tequila. I liked having cocktails on the patio yesterday. Where should we shop, that big store on Teddy’s list?”

After Jack settled the bill, they paused to look over the arcade. Already the flower vendors were setting up their displays of brilliant flowers. The Indian woman closest to the corner was directing her children as they quickly emptied the back of a battered station wagon and carried the buckets of water and the flowers to her portion of the arcade. It was amazing how the little stand was put together and functional in minutes. Claire, sorely tempted to buy some flowers, refrained, the thought of carrying them with her all day was too daunting. Reluctantly she left the flowers and followed Jack across into the park where he located the paper man, purchased a copy of the Atencion, the weekly English language paper, and found enough space on one of the benches for them to sit while he glanced through his paper.

Claire sat next to Jack, content to watch the activity around her. The Jardin was a block square with an ornate bandstand in the middle. The paths branched out from the bandstand, lined with benches for people to sit, shaded by the strange trees. The trees were old, the trunks twisted, the thick leaves had been trimmed in large box-like shapes. A few fountains were interspersed amongst the paths and while the park was level with the plaza in front of the church at the opposite end, it was necessary to take about ten steps down to reach the street. The Jardin was filled with people this time of the day. Many of the local people were just cutting through it on their way to work. Some people were strolling, nodding to acquaintances, stopping to speak to others. Already most of the benches at the end of the park facing the church were filled.

A woman who had sat down beside Claire started a conversation with her. She was a retired school teacher. She said she and her husband had moved to San Miguel from Toronto five years ago. She explained there were probably as many Canadians living in San Miguel as Americans. And many prominent Mexican families had holiday homes in San Miguel. She pointed to a middle-aged Mexican woman dressed in a light blue uniform-like dress, pushing a stroller and herding three small children. “That one is a nanny taking the children for fresh air. You will see many of them in the park.”

In response to Claire’s question about shopping for groceries, she recommended the Gigantic and told her which number bus went to the market and where to catch it. Then she saw the friend she had been waiting for and hurried off to catch up with her.

It was very pleasant in the park. Claire could see how easy it was to just sit for very long periods of time watching the mini dramas of daily life being played out around you. She saw several more children, many were with their nannies, and some were with their parents. One couple with two children was obviously on holiday, and they spent a very long time deliberating over which inflated toy to pick from the huge bouquet attached to a long stick resting over the shoulder of the toy vendor. Then Claire’s attention drifted to a bench next to where she sat, where a couple joined a woman and loudly carried on a conversation about a mutual acquaintance. Meanwhile, across the path the woman and man who apparently owned one of the refreshment stands began preparing it to open for business. Customers were lining up for cold drinks before they could even get everything ready. She was startled to see one of the customers headed their way after obtaining his drink and she frantically tried to remember his name.

“Oh hello. Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Xavier, it finally came to her. She smiled up at him. “Isn’t it. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk last night, but we certainly enjoyed the evening.” She nudged Jack saying, “Jack, you remember meeting Xavier last night, don’t you?”

Jack got the hint; he stood and held out his hand. “Of course, you were with Monica, the artist, weren’t you?”

Xavier nodded and took a thirsty drink from his soda. “Excuse me, but I’m parched. I just finished my walk and I always have to buy a drink here to sustain me until I can get home.” He quickly finished his drink and waved good-by. “I’m sure I’ll see you again. San Miguel is a very small community and if you hang out in the Jardin you’ll see everyone you know eventually. Although, I’ll probably see you at Teddy’s party tomorrow, won’t I?”

“Probably, it sounds like the place to be on Thursday.”

“Believe me; you don’t want to miss it. Have a nice day.” He smiled and moved on leaving Claire to watch a toddler determinedly pursuing the strutting pigeons and Jack to finish his paper.

But finally Jack had enough of the paper, so they left to do their shopping. They agreed to take a taxi, because the thought of riding a bus seemed a little more of an adventure than they wanted to face for today.

The Gigantic was similar to any big grocery chain in the States, except most of the labels were in Spanish and there didn’t seem to be as large a selection of some products as they were used to having.

They had carefully looked at the poultry, meat and fish, but Claire admitted she was reluctant to buy any.

“Well, you hear all those stories about contamination and Montezuma’s Revenge.” She defended herself on seeing the humorous glint in Jack’s eye.

“We’re going to cook it. I’m sure it’s all safe.”

“Well, let’s not, I’d rather go out to dinner. Teddy gave us that whole list of places and really there’s not much else to do in the evenings, but drink in one of the clubs or sit in the park.”

Still, by the time they finished at the checkout counter they found they had filled a half dozen bags with groceries. And when the taxi dropped them off outside their door it took them a while to unpack everything and put it all away.

“I see Helen Marie has been and gone,” Claire commented, noticing the dishes in the sink had been washed and put away. “It’s nice; kind of like having the elves come at night and finish your work for you, like a fairytale about the shoemaker my mother used to read to me.”

Jack sitting at the table had torn open one of the bags of chips and was helping himself. “What’s next?”

Claire sat down across from him and took a couple of chips to munch on. “Well, if you feel up to it, I’d like to explore a little. Also, I wonder if we shouldn’t call this Raphael that Teddy told us about. He may be busy and, if he’s not available, we may need to find someone else to drive us, because I’d really like to visit Guanajuato and Delores Hidalgo. They sounded very interesting in the book we read.”

“Good idea. Do you want me to call?”

“Would you? In case he doesn’t speak English.”

“Okay, where’s the number and when would be a good day?”

“Well, tomorrow is Teddy and Jeff’s party, so not then. Sunday we want to go on the Home Tour, don’t we? Friday would be good. Or maybe Monday? And I put all that stuff from Teddy on the coffee table in the living room.”

*  *  *

“We’re here. But I can’t talk until I’ve showered and eaten. It’s been a long trip.”

Her uncle smiled fondly. Even at thirty-three, she still reminded him of the child she was. “Go ahead, I’ll tell Carmen to fix you something to eat. While you’re getting cleaned up, I’ll go out and check on the off-loading.”

When he returned she was sitting at the table on the patio, in the shade of the frothy, lavender jacaranda tree, greedily consuming the plate of food, piled high, which Carmen had magically provided.

“So, did everything go well? No trouble at the border?”

She snorted with derision. “It’s always easy coming in. But you should have seen the line waiting to go out. They were searching with their dogs again. They must find things, but you’d think smugglers would be smarter than to try.”

He shrugged. “It’s a gamble. They don’t search every vehicle, so I suppose they always hope they will be the one not searched.” Then, changing the subject abruptly, “So tell me about your meeting.”

“Didn’t George tell you?”

“Of course, but he wasn’t sitting at the table with you. He doesn’t have the same perspective. I want to know how you saw it.”

Kathleen was happy to tell him all about it; she was always looking for his approval. She told him how Manny had been surprised to find she was a woman. And although he listened to her, had even seemed interested in her proposal, all the time she felt he was patronizing her. She expected him to try something so she had instructed George and Gary to wait in the car on Westheimer and make sure no one followed her. She wasn’t taking any chances on someone locating their factory and helping themselves to the product they had finished.

And she had been right to be concerned.

She admitted her flash of anger triggered her order to eliminate her followers. It had been instinctive, but as soon as she issued the order she realized it was the perfect counter-action to Manny’s decision to send someone after her. It was so bold and daring he had to pay attention. Now he would have to understand she was a person to be reckoned with. He would be very careful dealing with her in the future. He might even come to respect her business acumen.

Her uncle nodded gravely. “I think you were right. George told me he was concerned at first, but soon realized it was a brilliant move.”

“He said that? Brilliant?” She was pleased.

He nodded. “George is good at this business and appreciates good strategy. He was a little nervous at first when I put you in charge. Of course, he doesn’t know you like I do. But you’ve convinced him.”

She felt a glow of satisfaction. George had been her uncle’s key man since he broke off from the Irish Republican Army all those years ago. George’s respect meant a lot to her.

But of course, most important was her uncle’s respect. She knew she had his love. In all those years since that terrible Sunday afternoon, she had worked for one thing only, to pay the English back. She had a university degree in business because her uncle told her they needed to make and manage money to fund their quest. And when she spent those years in the guerrilla war camp where he had sent her, she had to stay focused to survive. Actually, in spite of her sex, her size and her strength she did more than survive, she excelled; and only she knew how much it had cost her. That was when she had jettisoned her last visage of softness, her basic instinct for good, in order to become a cold calculating killer.

“The truck has been emptied and Carlos has gone on to visit his family for a few days. I’m expecting the load to be ready to return to Texas on Monday. Are you thinking you’ll drive back with Carlos?”

“I thought I would. That way I can make sure it gets there safely. Why? Do you have other plans?”

“Well, I can use your help. I have this little problem. Well, maybe it’s a problem, maybe not.”

She looked at him seriously, ready to do whatever he needed.

He told her about his dinner last night.

“But I don’t understand who these people are? Why are they so dangerous?”

“Ah, I forgot, you were still in the jungle then. I went underground in the year two thousand. I had contracted with this rich American businessman to commit an act of terrorism for a hefty fee.” He sat back, a grim smile on his face. “It was a daring plan, but one I was sure would work. It was perfect. He was paying me for something that would, in fact, further my own cause.

“Anyway, the plan proceeded beautifully. I was on site, in disguise of course, and able to resolve any problems as they came up. But the real problem was this Claire Gulliver. She looks like an ordinary person, but she’s a nosy, tenacious nuisance. And in the end, it was her meddling, her interference that caused the plan to fail.”

Kathleen shook her head in disbelief, she never knew of one of her uncle’s plans to fail.

“And, in fact, the authorities were waiting for me when I landed in Florida on my way to my safe house.” He shuddered, just the memory of those hands clamped on his arms as he was marched along the corridor at the Florida airport was enough to make him nauseous. “Fortunately, George realized while I was still in the air that the scheme had failed and made the correct assumption I was in jeopardy. He organized a very effective counter-action to liberate me from the clutches of the authorities.

“So now, thanks to Claire Gulliver, I have finally been identified. My photo is in their archives. My DNA has been recorded as my fingerprints have been. I can no longer move about my business cloaked in secrecy. And Claire Gulliver is the person I have to thank for that complication.”

“The Bitch! Why don’t you just eliminate her? Simple, fast and totally justified.” Kathleen was all for taking immediate action.

“Whoa, not so simple. You’ve heard the expression, ‘Don’t soil your own nest,’ or whatever. I need to be very careful not to draw attention to myself or San Miguel. Besides, it’s not so easy.

“This American businessman who hired me tried to do that very thing later that same year. Somehow, she always seemed to elude the assassin he hired. He finally became so frustrated at his failure to eliminate her and his original target that he insisted we build him a devise to blow up a very large motor yacht. I understand he took Miss Gulliver on that cruise along with his target, but when Miss Gulliver and his target returned, he and the large motor yacht were never seen again.”

“You’re kidding! Is she some kind of secret agent?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think she’s anything more than what she claims to be, a former-librarian-turned-travel-bookshop-owner. But she is very lucky, or perhaps intuitive is a better word for her. And she has friends. This man she’s with, for instance, we know he is with the CIA. Why he seems to show up when she does is anybody’s guess. Why they’re here in San Miguel is a mystery.”

“I’m assuming she doesn’t have a clue about who you are. She didn’t recognize you from your former encounter?”

He actually chuckled. “No way, I was a totally different person then. And I don’t intend to give her any hints to help her connect me to that time.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I talked it over with George last night and told him I’d watch carefully. If necessary I’ll eliminate them, but hopefully, they will just get on with their vacation and go home, no wiser.”

“What can I do?” she offered simply, remembering his request for her help.

“Well, I need to keep an eye on them and find out why they’re here and at the same time I want to keep a low profile. I thought maybe you could cozy up to them and see what you could learn. You’re good at that.”

“Of course, how do I meet them?”

“Teddy and Jeff are having their big party tomorrow night and I saw Teddy give her an invitation so I’m certain they will be there. I can’t afford to be absent, but I think I can avoid being close to them, you know what a mob it will be. Teddy will be thrilled if you show up; you know how he loves you. So I thought you could work your wiles on them and see what you can discover.”

“That hardly sounds like a difficult task.”

He frowned at her. “Don’t be lulled into thinking they are ordinary people. I assure you they are very astute and they either have physic powers or they are damn lucky.”

She nodded soberly, but she didn’t really think it would be difficult finding out just why they came to San Miguel at this precise time.

*  *  *

Manny welcomed the interruption of the discrete knock on the door. It delayed for a while his scrutiny of the financials prepared by his staff. He had already seen from the graphs on the top page that profits were down and the supporting documents were only going to give the sorry details.

Phil opened the door and gestured Dr. Nose into the study Manny used for his office. Dr. Nose was the odd fellow, but brilliant chemist, who was in charge of preparing the cocaine Manny brought into the Houston area for distribution on the streets. Dr. Nose wasn’t his actual name, but somehow it seemed so right that now most people only knew him by that name.

“Well, what did you find?”

Dr. Nose handed him a sheaf of papers covered with numbers. He was nervous, but Manny was used to that as many of his people were nervous in his presence.

“I don’t want to read all this, tell me what it says.” He was impatient.

Dr. Nose gulped, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. “It’s incredibly pure. It’s the best we’ve seen in several years. We could cut it easily by three and still exceed the quality of the product we’ve been selling. Actually, I’m thinking we can cut it by four.” Then hopefully, “Will we be getting more?”

“Hell, how do I know? It was a gift, you know. She leaves it with me, and then blasts my guys to bits and disappears.” He pounded his palm on the desk in frustration, then sat back in his chair and took a deep breath, visibly making an effort to calm himself.

The room was very quiet, the ticking of the lovely old grandfather clock on the far wall sounded strangely loud. Dr. Nose was twitching with nervousness, using his white handkerchief to dab at the perspiration now rolling down his neck. Phil, hands clasped behind his back, rocked gently back on his heels, his eyes staring at the wall above Manny’s head. Manny was staring with unseeing eyes at the reports sitting in front of him, as if the answers would just come to him. Finally he stirred.

“Thank you, Dr. Nose. I’ll do my best to get some more of that for you to work with. You can go.” He nodded at Phil, confident he would understand he was to stay.

He got to his feet slowly as if he had suddenly aged. “Sit down, Phil. I need a drink. Can I get you something?” He touched a section of the bookcase and a door slid open revealing a bar. He took down two glasses, looked over his shoulder at his lieutenant and seeing his nod, poured a generous splash of whiskey in each. He walked back to the desk, sat one glass in front of Phil and took the other with him to the other side. Both men sat for a moment savoring that first taste.

Manny shook his head. “What was with that broad..., woman..., lady...? Hell, I don’t even know the correct word to use for her, but I sure know she’s not a lady.

“Jerry, Pancho and Willie just blown away? For what? For Christ sakes, I had to tell Jerry’s wife!” He looked at Phil, his pain was obvious. He took another restorative sip of the whiskey.

“I mean it’s a business, like any other business, you know? What was she thinking? Maybe she’s seen too many of those Hollywood blockbusters. Sure, sometimes we have to rough someone up to get a point across, but just blow them away, for no reason?” He shook his head gloomily.

“I tell you Phil, I’d like to do business with the little lady. I mean you heard Dr. Nose, the stuff is pure. And she said she would guarantee a consistent delivery. It would be just what we need to get the charts flowing the right way, but I just don’t think I can trust her. I think the lady is a loose cannon. I’m not sure we dare do business with her no matter how pure her product is.”

Phil was being very cautious. He hadn’t survived as Manny’s lieutenant by being stupid. Manny worked so hard at making people think he was just another brilliant businessman he almost forgot how he made his living. He moved into this grand house in Houston’s premier neighborhood. He attended all the big charity events where he mingled with the elite. He insisted his staff prepare reports as if he was running a big corporation. But in reality, he had no qualms about sending his men after a pretty young woman, who had a source of product they needed. He was still a thug.

And Phil figured Manny knew the girl had out-maneuvered him. She had ordered his men taken out before they had a chance to get to her operation and help themselves.

Sure Manny was upset. After all, Jerry had been with him since the beginning and was married to Manny’s cousin. He was family. But really Manny was just pissed because the girl didn’t do what he expected. She wasn’t operating according to his rules. And, he hadn’t been able to contact her since that night.

So now Phil carefully kept his face serious and nodded. He agreed wholeheartedly with Manny on this. KC Ramosa was dangerous. She was obviously smart, she wasn’t afraid to be bold and she just might lead to Manny’s destruction.

CHAPTER 4

It was a lovely morning. Claire and Jack were on their way to the library, but weren’t in any hurry. So the fact that they were at the moment heading in the opposite direction didn’t seem to bother them. They strolled along side by side holding hands until other pedestrians or broken pavement made the going difficult and they were forced to separate and walk single file. When they got to the fruit lady, selling a luscious selection of fruit on the corner of Canal and Hernandez Macias, they turned right, now they were headed in the general direction of the library once more. Bellas Artes was across the street and it looked interesting, but they decided to forego exploration of it for another day. The jewelry in the window of a shop they were passing caught Claire’s eye.

“Jack, wait. I want to look in here. I think this must be the shop of the woman we met the other night. Isobelle, remember? Let’s go in.” She was already tugging on his hand as she opened the door.

“Good morning,” Isobelle greeted them. “Oh, hello. I see you found me. Come in and look around. How are you enjoying your visit?”

“We’ve been having a wonderful time. Although I’m afraid we’ve not seen much as we seem to have really slowed down.” Claire smiled. “We tell ourselves we’re on vacation, so that’s our excuse.”

She left Jack chatting with Isobelle about the restaurant they ate at last night, while she examined the jewelry in the cases on the far side of the room. Isobelle was a very talented jeweler Claire decided after seeing the selection of unique pieces offered. She was especially drawn to a pair of earrings and a necklace of onyx and amber set in silver. Not only was it stunning, but it would set off the outfit she planned to wear to the party tonight, turning it into an ensemble. She couldn’t resist asking to try it on.

While Isobelle was showing Claire those pieces, Jack found another set he thought she might like. Isobelle showed her a couple more. They were all beautiful, but in the end Claire decided to splurge on the set that first caught her eye. And of course, Jack insisted on paying for it.

When they left the shop and headed toward the library once more Claire told Jack, “I love the jewelry and I love that you bought it for me, but truly, I’m used to buying things for myself. Now I’ll feel like every time I admire something you’ll think I want you to buy it for me.”

“Claire, I know you could buy it yourself, but I wanted to buy it for you. Don’t you understand how men love to shower their ladies with jewels? It gives me pleasure to think you’ll remember me each time you wear them.”

She saw how earnest he was so she smiled shyly, nodding. “Thank you. I do love it. And you’ll see tonight how perfectly it will match what I’m going to wear.”

“And of course, I’m extremely grateful it wasn’t a set of very large rubies or diamonds that caught your fancy,” Jack joked ending the discussion.

They continued down the street smiling until they came to Insurgentes, where they turned right, strolling past the businesses and shops and unmarked doors that were probably leading to second floor residences to finally reach the library. They walked through the dim tunnel-like entrance which spilled them directly into the courtyard. The brilliant sunlight almost blinded them until their eyes adjusted and they saw a fountain splash musically in the center and a few umbrella tables with chairs sitting in the sunshine. Around two sides of the perimeter were arcades, deeply shaded, furnished with bookshelves which lined the walls and library tables and chairs sat on the tile floor beside them. It was a restful, cool place to read, as several people demonstrated.

They took their time to wander through each door opening off of the arcades. They explored the various and usual sections of the library; they found the pleasant Santa Ana Café and the lecture rooms behind it. They went up stairs and inquired about procedures for using the computers. Jack signed up for a temporary library card. Then Claire settled down to check her e-mails, and Jack decided to browse the shelves for a book to read.

When she finished her turn at the computer Claire found Jack slumped in a chair under the shade of one of the umbrellas in the courtyard.

“Aren’t you warm?” She asked pulling out the chair next to him.

“Yeah, it’s wonderful. I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open.”

“Well, I’m done. Thankfully there was nothing urgent. Mrs. B says Tuffy-Two is happy as a clam with her, but Theroux has reverted to his old routine of refusing to leave the bookshop at night.” She laughed. “Theroux is just mad he doesn’t have your lap to sit on all night.” It was true, the cat spent every moment possible curled up on Jack’s lap while he was convalescing and was probably annoyed that the lap had disappeared.

“And now I’m hungry, why don’t we find somewhere to eat and then head home for a siesta. It looks like most of the people here have already done that.” It was true; there were very few people still sitting at the tables around the courtyard.

Jack nodded. “We could eat here, the menu looked interesting, or if you want we could try that enchilada place on Teddy’s list. I think it’s just around the corner.”

“Let’s try the enchilada place. After all we’re in Mexico and except for the Margaritas we haven’t had Mexican food yet.”

La Enchilada was just around the corner. Just a tiny door in an eclectically painted wall announced it even existed. If Teddy hadn’t recommended it, they wouldn’t have dared go in. It looked like a hundred other local restaurants, just what they had been warned to watch out for lest they catch the dreaded tourist malady. It was a tiny place; each wall was painted a different, but bright color, the chairs and tables were also painted with bright contrasting colors. Most of the tables were full, but the waitress quickly cleared off an empty one near the windows. They sat and looked at the selections offered. The menu was simple, listing only enchiladas, cheese or chicken, in red, brown or green sauce.

Jack ordered them both beers and then one order of chicken enchiladas of each type of sauce. “We can share, okay? That way we can decide which one we like best.”

The waitress looked a little puzzled at three orders for only two people, but complied, delivering three bowls of the accompanying soup and salads. Jack looked slightly askance, but then rallied. “We only have to eat what we want.”

When the waitress delivered three steaming plates of enchiladas with beans and rice she picked up the leftover soup and salad bowls without a comment. One of each hadn’t even been touched.

“Well, we’ll certainly have enough to fill us up.” Claire laughed, taking a bite of the enchiladas in green chili sauce. “Yum, this is delicious.”

Jack just nodded, too busy at the moment eating the enchiladas in brown sauce which turned out to be mole, the spicy sauce made with chocolate. Finally, he offered that plate to Claire and started on the plate with the traditional red chili sauce.

“These are great; let me have that plate with the green sauce, please.” Jack caught the waitress’ eye and ordered them each another beer.

“I was thinking I should have bought something for my daughter, Karen, when we were at Isobelle’s. I think she would really like a piece of her jewelry.”

“Oh Jack, of course you should. We can go back.”

He nodded, thinking. “Not today, but before we leave. If I don’t see something else that catches my eye, maybe I’ll get her that set with the carnelian stones.”

Claire nodded. “How was she?”

Jack had finally felt well enough to call her before they left, but they hadn’t discussed his conversation with her.

“She says she’s doing great. She loves her job and she recently got a promotion and is now called an Administrative Assistant, whatever that means.” He smiled. “You know, for a young girl in New York, life can be exciting. I got the distinct impression she has someone special in her life, but she didn’t seem ready to talk about him, so I didn’t pry. But I’m thinking after we get back to Bayside I might take the time for a quick visit to New York. That way I can check for myself.”

“Jack, she’s a grown woman now, not your little girl,” Claire admonished.

He looked sheepish. “I know, but it’s a big, cruel world out there and her mother is far away. I’d feel easier if I met her friends and saw where she lives. You know?”

“I imagine she’s pretty self-sufficient. After all, her mother has been in South America for a couple years now and most of the time you’ve been unreachable. She seems to have managed fairly well.”

Jack frowned, nodding. “I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to visit her.”

“No, she’d probably love it, especially if you don’t grill her friends and snoop around her apartment.” Claire laughed, and after a moment Jack joined her.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They had definitely slowed down, now just occasionally reaching out their forks for another taste, when several people came noisily down from the upstairs section.

“Well, hello.” Steve Carter spotted them. Detouring from his friends he came over to smile down on them. “I see you’ve found our best kept secret. Teddy must have blabbed.”

Jack stood and shook Steve’s hand. “He did and we’re glad. What a meal. We tried them all.”

Steve laughed. “I can see. I always think I know just what I’m going to order, but when I get here I can’t decide. Maybe I should try your solution the next time.”

“I’m embarrassed you caught us being pigs, but we can’t get enchiladas like this at home.” Claire said, “Please don’t tell on us.”

Steve laughed again. “Never. I suppose I’ll see the two of you tonight at Teddy and Jeff’s?” At their nod, he smiled and moved toward the door where his friends were lingering, waiting for him. “See you later. Enjoy your afternoon.”

“I’m stuffed. I’m glad we tried them all, but I’m still not sure which one is my favorite. Every time I think I’m sure I take a bite of one of the others and get confused again. Next time we should try the cheese enchiladas too.”

Jack had a horrified look on his face. He shook his head. “I ‘m not sure we’ll be able to eat six orders.”

Claire laughed. “Agreed, maybe she can fix us up a combo plate?”

Jack paid the very reasonable tab, and they struggled to their feet. Once on the street Claire suggested they take a taxi; then just as quickly shook her head. “No, we need to walk some of this lunch off. I intend to nap when we get home and I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep feeling this full.” She headed resolutely up the slight incline toward the Jardin and eventually their house.

*  *  *

Claire was up for a party. She had brought a skirt she found on sale last fall thinking she might want to dress up one night. It was slightly gathered, long, almost to her ankles and simple in cut. The material was a bold print of large black flowers silhouetted against a white background with little touches of warm yellow in the centers of the flowers. She wore a sleeveless black silk blouse and a black silk blend cardigan sweater to finish it off. Her new jewelry was perfect with it. She knew she looked good because Jack told her so, but it was that look on his face when she walked out into the patio that made her heart race. There was no doubt how he thought she looked.

The taxi let them off halfway up the hill behind the Jardin on a street populated by walls and industrial buildings. This address was boldly marked on doublewide doors for vehicles to use with a small door beside it. Jack pressed the doorbell and a young man opened the door wide for them to enter. They found themselves on a flagstone parking area with a double garage to their left and the high wall of the industrial building on their right. Straight ahead was a path leading to the house. The house started from the garage and seemed to stretch in a long line to the back end of the property. Between the house and the industrial building was a lawn, a pool and a garden area too far away in the growing dusk to define.

“Oh, Claire, Jack, welcome to our home. I’m so glad you came early. I wanted you to see the house before it’s all filled with people. Jeff, Jeff, come see who is here.” Teddy was waiting for his guests in the formal living room. The large room was furnished with large comfortable pieces of furniture, a grand piano, and pieces of sculpture which could only be Jeff’s. Half of the wall facing the garden was open, apparently rolled into the other part of the wall giving the room the feeling of being part of the outside.

Jeff arrived, shook hands with Jack and gave Claire a hug. “Good, you did come early. Teddy always goes crazy waiting for the first guest to show up. Thank you for assuring him someone is coming. As many parties as we’ve had, he still worries no one will come.”

Teddy laughed. “Can you imagine how horrid that would be? I’ve never even been to a party like that, but then I guess if I had, it wouldn’t be one where no one came, would it?”

“Oh, Jeff, is that one of your pieces?” Claire pointed to the sculpture sitting in the far corner. When Jeff nodded, she said, “It’s just wonderful.” And she moved closer to get a better view.

“You’ll see lots of his work around, and many pieces made by other local artists. And I see, Claire, that you found Isobelle’s shop, because I know that piece you’re wearing is one of hers. It’s stunning.”

Claire put her fingers up to her necklace, pleased with the compliment as if she had made the jewelry instead of just choosing it.

“Come on, I’ll give you a quick tour, then Jeff said he wanted to show you his studio. People will start coming in droves pretty soon, at least I hope they will, so I’ll have to stick close to the front.”

Teddy led them through the dining room, where servers were filling the massive table with platters of food. The dining room led into the large kitchen, and they couldn’t do much but glance in, as it was filled with busy workers. Teddy led them straight through to the family room, or perhaps it was a den. The bar was set up and ready so they paused long enough for Jack to get a beer and Claire a glass of white wine. These four rooms were all in a row, like the railroad flats Claire knew from San Francisco. The difference here was each of these rooms had one side almost entirely open to the patio-pool-lawn area. Teddy explained he designed it with sliding walls, to take advantage of the mild weather they enjoyed most of the year. The few occasions it was chilly, they just closed the sliders and had windows across that side of the rooms.

“And of course, when we’re traveling we have it closed up,” Jeff added.

“Oh, oh,” Teddy said, “I can hear others arriving, so Jeff will continue your tour and I’ll see you later.”

Jeff pointed out the six bathrooms and the four bedrooms. Claire gasped when they walked into the spa room.

This room also opened out to the pool area. It was lit by gas fed torches mounted on the walls; the walls themselves were covered with vivid frescos of mythical creatures. There were stone benches sitting in alcoves along two walls; the third wall held the doorways which led to the master bedroom and a large changing room. The entire center of the room was a huge Jacuzzi tub sunk into the floor. It looked big enough to hold twenty people, and it was bubbling and frothing and steaming already, as if inviting people to try it.

Jeff noticed her surprise and grinned. “It is somewhat hedonistic, isn’t it? But that’s my Teddy. He likes to live big and he loves his spa. I’m sure later tonight it will be very crowded in here and there will probably be some skinny dipping outside too, so if you’re shy about participating, plan to leave before the clothes start coming off,” he warned as he headed outside and took the path through some trees toward the back of the property.

“Here’s my studio.” He threw open the double doors and turned on the lights. It was a very large space and they could see several sculptures in various stages of completion. Jeff pointed out his kilns, two giant ones allowing him to load his bigger pieces with the help of a forklift and three smaller ones he used for various methods of firing. The back wall of his studio held overhead doors which he said opened to the street on the other side of the block. Their property cut all the way through the block, as did the industrial building next to them.

“I have to have access for a truck to unload my supplies as well as a way to get finished pieces out of here.”

“Jeff, this is wonderful. No wonder you produce such lovely pieces.” She was very impressed with how organized and professional the space was.

“I’m very lucky and I know it. Not only have I found the love of my life, but living here provides me the opportunity to do the work I love in the best possible environment. Believe me, I know how fortunate I am.”

“Oh, what are these?” Claire was examining some shelves which held a series of black matte frogs squatting in rows. Each frog was slightly different and ranging in size from about six inches to about a foot. And each had such exquisite detailing it looked very real.

Jeff laughed. “My magic frog prototypes. You kiss them and they turn into a black prince. It’s eventually going to be a larger garden sculpture for Teddy, but I haven’t quite got it right yet. I’m still working on it.”

“I love it. What do you think, Jack?”

Jack shrugged. “I’m afraid I’m not that fond of frogs; I think they’re kind of ugly.”

“Oh, Jack, can’t you see it’s so ugly it’s cute?”

“Well, don’t mention the frogs to Teddy. It’s a surprise, you know?” Jeff cautioned them.

“A surprise? Aren’t you worried about Teddy seeing them here?” Claire asked.

Jeff shook his head. “Teddy never comes to my studio. He says it’s my space and I should have my privacy. And to tell you the truth, I appreciate his attitude. I need peace and quiet to do my best work.” He smiled. “I seldom allow people in my studio, especially not my customers. I don’t like them to see pieces in the process.” He led the way out and carefully locked the door, explaining, “It might get a little wild later and I’d rather not worry about someone getting in here.”

“Jeff, thank you so much for showing us your studio. I loved seeing it and the work you do. And I’m especially flattered now that I know how few people get the tour.” Claire smiled with pleasure and Jack nodded his agreement.

When they returned to the house they could see the party was now well underway. A band was playing near a dance floor which had been set up on a portion of the lawn, and people were milling around and the noise level was already high. Claire realized there was a definite advantage to being neighbors to industrial buildings, if you liked to party as much as Teddy and Jeff did.

They didn’t get far before they replaced their empties with Margaritas from the tray being offered by one of the waiters. Jeff left them in answer to Teddy’s frantic summons and they found themselves alone in the crowd.

“Hello again.” Steve Carter’s tall figure loomed over them. “I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Kaye. Kaye, this is the couple I told you about, Claire and Jack. They’re staying at the Pruitts’.”

Kaye smiled warmly and held out her hand. “Oh, I’m glad to meet you. Don’t you just love that house? I do so miss the Pruitts, but I heard from her only last week and she’s doing very well. They’re hoping to be back here in the summer. Steve said he ran into you at our little enchilada place, so I guess you’re finding your way around San Miguel.”

“Yes, Teddy was kind enough to provide us with some cheat sheets so we are working our way through the restaurants and the points of interest he suggested.”

“Well, I guess you can’t go wrong that way. I understand you’re from the San Francisco area.” She paused long enough for Claire’s nod. “I love it there. I always wanted Steve to be posted to the Presidio, but it never happened. We were only able to visit occasionally on our way to other assignments.

“What do you do there, Claire?” she asked, barely pausing.

Claire smiled recognizing Kaye as the inquisitive type, guessing she’d pry every secret in Claire’s life out of her in a moment if she wasn’t careful. She explained, “I own a bookshop in Bayside. That’s a small town south of San Francisco on the peninsula.”

“Books, I love books. Have you seen our library? What kind of books do you carry? Bestsellers? New Age? What?”

So Claire explained about Gulliver’s while out of the corner of her eye she saw Jack in conversation with Steve and another man, who had just joined them.

“Oh, here’s Freddy.” Kaye threw her arms around the neck of a man who was passing, giving him a hug. “Freddy, dear, meet Claire, she’s from your neck of the woods.”

Freddy turned to Claire cocked an eyebrow and said, “San Francisco? My dear, I love San Francisco. But, Denny dragged me away. He said it was too big, too everything. He just insisted he had to live in San Miguel.” He shrugged. “What could I do?

“Now we do our best here, but really we’re rather provincial; we just can’t get the quality entertainment down here. I do so miss the opera. Do you go?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Oh, my dear, you must. It’s so available to you. You should take advantage of it.” He looked at her carefully. “Where do you live in the city?”

So she explained again about Bayside and her bookshop. Freddy and Kaye, inspired by the thought of a travel bookshop began talking about their travels in Europe while Claire nodded politely, wondering how she could escape.

“Excuse me if I steal Claire away, I have to check out the food before I have another drink.” Jack’s arm snaked around her waist and he skillfully moved her through the crowd.

“Thank you, I was drowning in stories of quaint little restaurants in Rome. I needed to be saved. And I’m starved too. I know we ate way too many enchiladas, but that seemed a long time ago.”

“It was a long time ago,” Jack growled. “Look at this spread. I may need two plates.” He let go of Claire in order to use both hands to fill his plate. When their plates could hold no more, they took their cutlery and headed for one of the tables set up on the patio.

“Would you mind if we joined you... Well, hello. We met on the van from Leon, didn’t we?” Jack set his plate down and held a chair for Claire. When they were both seated they turned their attention to the couple sitting across from them. “This is a very small town, isn’t it? We didn’t know you knew Teddy and Jeff.”

The woman from Houston shook her head. “We don’t. Our real estate agent invited us. He said if we were interested in buying a place here we should get to know more of the locals.” She shrugged. “So here we are.”

“Some place, isn’t it? I don’t think we’re looking for a house quite this grand.” Her husband said, “I’m Dale Hunsaker, and this is my wife, Molly.”

“I think you said this was your first visit, didn’t you? It looks like you’re doing very well; I mean here you are at the party of the season.” Molly sounded a little envious.

Claire stopped eating long enough to reassure Molly. “Actually, we’re renting a place from some friends of the hosts, so they have been very kind in making us feel welcome. But from the looks of this crowd, Teddy must have been passing out his invitations to everyone in the Jardin.” It was true, there was a very large crowd of eclectic people and, while many seemed to know each other, it didn’t seem to matter as everyone was friendly, only intent on having a good time.

“Have you been to Guanajuato yet?” Dale asked.

Claire shook her head. “We’ve booked a car to take us tomorrow. You?”

Molly and Dale both started enthusiastically describing the old silver mining town in the mountain behind San Miguel. Meanwhile, Jack had finished his plate and with a nod at Claire, got up to visit the buffet table once again. Claire sat finishing her plate of food and asking questions about the town they would see the next day. Two other people joined them and finally Claire noticed Jack had not returned. She excused herself and went looking for him.

She squeezed through the people crowded around the food laid out in the dining room. She saw and spoke to Isobelle, nodded to the man, Graves, across several people, but didn’t get close enough to speak to him. She saw Kaye in a group of people with the Mondot sisters she met on Tuesday night and finally saw Teddy, checking on the status of the food displayed.

“Teddy, this is a marvelous party and the food is wonderful.”

“Isn’t it? I wish I could take credit, but it is all from my wonderful caterers. Are you having fun?” He was slightly distracted as he was trying to remember which dishes needed to be replenished.

“Oh, yes, but at the moment I’m trying to locate Jack. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“Umm, yes I just saw him, wait let me think. Oh right, I think he was in the living room with Kathleen. Yes, I’m sure that’s where I saw him. Good luck in finding him, love.” Then he turned to the waiters, who were arriving with more platters, directing where he wanted them to go.

Since Claire was right there she couldn’t resist helping herself to one of the pumpkin empanadas and a couple of the sweet, raisin and nut filled tamales along with some chocolates and cookies. When she headed for the living room she was carrying a heaping plate and another set of utensils.

She saw Jack standing next to a ravishing looking brunette, who was not only standing very close to him, but she was helping herself to food on the plate he held. Claire couldn’t help but notice what an attractive couple they made, then she stamped down that fizzle of jealousy and moved over to join them.

“There you are. I wondered where you had gotten to.”

Jack looked up and smiled at her, obviously not annoyed at her interruption, as his attractive friend seemed to be.

“Hi Claire, this is Kathleen. Kathleen, this is Claire,” he said turning to put his free arm around her and give her an affectionate little squeeze.

Claire couldn’t help the small twinge of satisfaction she felt at the expression in Kathleen’s eyes as she observed Jack’s obvious affection for her. She smiled, and nodded hello.

“Jack has been singing your praises, Claire. I was looking forward to meeting you.”

Not, thought Claire. She noticed Kathleen didn’t try very hard to mask her annoyance as she flashed a tight smile at Claire. But Claire chose to ignore her irritation and just offered her plate. “Try some of these little tamales. They’re wonderful.”

One of the waiters passing took Jack’s decimated plate and the three of them concentrated on the sweets piled on Claire’s while they chatted about San Miguel.

“Did you catch the bus to the supermarket?” a voice asked from her left and Claire turned to see the woman she spoke to in the Jardin.

“Yes, well no, we didn’t take the bus, but we did go to the Gigantic to shop. We ended up taking a taxi.” She laughed a little at her embarrassment.

“What else have you been finding to entertain yourselves, besides visiting the supermarkets and attending parties?” the woman asked with interest.

“We were at the library today. It is very nice. I was a librarian for many years in San Francisco, and I appreciate a town which values their library.”

She and the woman talked for a while before the woman excused herself to move on through the crowd. Claire turned back to Jack and Kathleen, who had now been joined by a few more people. Claire knew she was being petty, but she wondered just why Kathleen felt the need to put her hand on Jack constantly while she was talking to him. She wanted to push her hand away and say, “Mine,” but she realized how juvenile that would be. So she decided to try and ignore her. After all, Jack didn’t seem to notice.

“Kathleen, I didn’t know you were back.” Monica, the artist they met at Mama Mia’s their first night in town launched herself at Kathleen. “It’s good to see you.” Then realizing she had interrupted the whole discussion, she turned around and smiled an apology at the same time Kathleen reached out to return her hug resulting in knocking Monica’s drink out of her hand, spilling the contents all over Claire.

For just a moment the group was stunned into silence and then everybody moved into action, dabbing at Claire, apologizing, picking up the glass. Finally, Claire stepped back, warding off all the ineffectual blotting with paper napkins.

“Look, I’ll just duck into the bathroom and wash it out.” Claire backed away from the group and their efforts to clean her up. She thought Monica’s inordinate apologies were most likely fueled by the Margaritas she had already consumed so she added, “Don’t worry. I’m sure it will come out. Accidents happen.” She caught Jack’s eye and with a little shake of her head conveyed she didn’t need him to accompany her. She excused herself to find one of the many bathrooms Jeff had pointed out earlier.

The powder room between the kitchen and family room had a queue so she moved on to the one in the guest bedroom only to find a group waiting there. The next guest room was empty, so she had hopes the bathroom was too. As she approached the door to the bathroom it opened suddenly and four raucously laughing people, tripping over each other in their attempt to exit the small room, spilled out. The last one out said, too brightly, over his shoulder, “Sorry, we’re done. No more just now.” He winked broadly, and hurried to catch up with his friends.

Claire looked around the bathroom carefully before locking herself in. She found a washcloth and towel in the cupboard under the sink and went to work cleaning the Margarita off her blouse and skirt. She managed to replace the spilled drink with large wet spots, but she thought they would dry fairly quickly. She took the opportunity to use the facilities and then left to rejoin the party. As she wended her way through the rooms to rejoin Jack, she noticed the party was even louder; many people were showing signs of the alcohol they were drinking, or perhaps it was from smoking the marijuana she kept catching whiffs of on the breeze. And she remembered the group exiting the bathroom and thought cynically that there were other substances in use tonight, ones people gathered behind locked doors to use. She thought it was about time to leave.

Jack was not in the living room, so she wandered outside and saw he was dancing with Kathleen. She watched a moment, decided his face didn’t show any evidence that he was feeling any pain, so the fast dance must be okay, then she went to the bar and asked for a glass of water. When she headed for one of the tables to sit and watch the dancers, Jack materialized at her side.

“There you are. Did it come out?”

“Yes, I think it’s going to be fine. Really it wasn’t much of a problem, not like red wine.” She looked around. “What happened to Kathleen?”

“Oh, I handed her off to another dance partner. I know I’m out of shape; one of those dances is just about all I can take. But I’ve noticed that after a couple of fast ones the band plays something slow, so maybe we could have a dance?”

She smiled. “Maybe.”

Just then the band changed tempo and began playing an oldie and Claire set her glass of water on a nearby table and followed Jack out to the dance floor.

“It’s been too long since we danced,” he whispered in her ear.

She nodded, dreamily, remembering that night one September on the terrace at the edge of the Chesapeake Bay. They seemed to fit together perfectly, allowing them to drift dreamily to the soft music.

When it was over they reluctantly moved off the dance floor. “Well, had enough?” Jack asked.

She nodded. “Let’s go home.”

CHAPTER 5

Kathleen was on the patio having breakfast when he found her. “Ah, you’re finally up. Too much party for you?”

She frowned, then realizing she was being teased she shook her head. “Not! But I have to admit Teddy does throw a great party. Was there any one in town who missed it? I left about three and it was still going strong.”

Her uncle sat down at the table and filled a cup with coffee from the thermos carafe on the table. “I saw you made contact with our friends. What did you find out? What’s your take of the situation?”

“I thought she was a little bit of nothing. I can hardly credit her with causing anyone any trouble, but I will take your word for it. But it must have been accidental, because I don’t think she is clever enough to have done it on purpose. But him? He’s a different story.

“Oh, he’s good.” Her eyes glazed over and she had a dreamy expression on her face. “I wouldn’t have known he was an agent if you hadn’t told me. He was that good. I talked to him for quite a while; I gave him my best shot and he didn’t betray himself at all. In some ways he reminded me of Reynald. He has that same calmness, that same deep center that so attracted me to Reynald.” Then realizing she was being distracted, and didn’t have time to daydream about her deceased husband, she firmly shook her head as if to dislodge those memories. “But, that only proves how dangerous he is. I think you shouldn’t take any chances. I think they need to go. And the sooner the better.”

He stared at her thoughtfully, thinking his niece was a bloodthirsty devil. That was for sure. “So he didn’t respond to your charms? And now you want to kill him? Really Kathleen, be practical, it might be smarter to wait and see?”

Her face flushed with anger. “You make it sound so stupid. It’s not personal! I consider him a danger to our plan. I don’t think we should take chances because we have too much at stake.”

“Of course I agree about that, but remember San Miguel is where I’ve kept my safe house for many years. I’m not anxious to jeopardize it’s location by calling attention to it, and we both know when a CIA agent dies it triggers a close scrutiny of the circumstances. I definitely don’t want that kind of attention here.”

“Well, of course, but accidents do happen.”

He looked at her with a hard stare. “There better not be one unless I okay it.”

*  *  *

“Senor Rallins?” The handsome young man, clad in crisply creased khaki trousers and a blindingly white shirt, stood smiling at their table.

Jack nodded, stood and held out his hand. “Raphael? You found us.” Then he introduced Claire, and invited him to sit a moment until they finished their coffee. “Would you care for a cup?”

“No, thank you. I have already had my quota. So, are you enjoying our little town? I believe you said you were from the San Francisco area, didn’t you?”

At their nod he continued. “I only visited a short time there, but I lived for four years in Los Angeles. It was a wonderful city. That’s where I learned to drive. For several years I drove a taxi and later a limousine. I am a very careful driver, you will see.”

They nodded. “That’s what we were told. They said you were the one to show us around. That’s why we called you.”

He smiled. “I liked the States. I loved my time there, but I always intended to return to my home. I saved my money until I bought my car then I came back to start my business here.”

“Your English is perfect. I wish I could do better with Spanish. Did you learn it while you were in L.A. or did you speak English before then?” Claire asked.

“Thank you. Actually I spoke some English. My mother teaches English here and so we all learned it early. But when I was in L.A. I was able to learn how to use it properly. You know, the slang?”

Then becoming business-like, “Now, I understand you would like to see Delores Hidalgo and Guanajuato today. We can do those easily. Is there anything else, perhaps a pottery?”

Claire nodded. “I would like to see a pottery or two. Jack, I’d like to pick up a couple pieces for my mother. You know how she loves to use unique pieces for her catering.”

“So, perhaps we should get on the road.” Raphael led them to where he parked his car. It turned out to be a very clean BMW only a few years old. Raphael held the back door open so they could settle into the cream colored leather seats. He got behind the wheel and said, “I suggest we go directly to Delores Hidalgo as I believe they have a procession scheduled this morning. I think you might find it interesting. Then we’ll visit a pottery I know on the way to Guanajuato. That will give you the whole afternoon to see Guanajuato and you’ll most likely want to lunch there.” Raphael skillfully drove through town. Claire was happy to see she recognized some of the streets, especially when he turned on Hernandez Macias near the Bellas Artes and drove past Isobelle’s shop. He drove them through a part of town they had not yet visited and kept up a lively discussion of what they were seeing. She found his command of the language astounding. She suspected she wouldn’t be as fluent in a second language no matter how many years she spent in the country.

Soon they were in the country and it looked much like the arid vista they had passed coming from the airport interspersed with an occasional field ready to plant or a hacienda nestled against a low hill. Raphael and Jack were discussing Father Hidalgo, the leader of Mexico’s bid for independence from Spain in 1810, and the historical significance of the town which later was named for him. It seemed the book Jack had checked out of the library and had been reading since was about that historical event, so he was very interested in seeing the location where it all started. Claire listened with only half her mind; the other half was reviewing the party last night. She was glad they went, but agreed with Vern’s assessment; Teddy and Jeff did lead a fast life. It was fun to watch, but she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to participate.

*  *  *

Claire looked around when Raphael turned off the highway onto a little dirt road and then bumped along through some mesquite trees into a village of sorts. She was looking for a gas station or a restaurant which might have an available ladies room. There didn’t appear to be anything like that here. But there was a pottery. This was the place Raphael had told them about, and it was better than he promised. It wasn’t like the potteries they had visited in Delores Hidalgo. Those contained the garish and somewhat primitive pieces you saw being sold off the back of trucks at intersections throughout California. This pottery consisted of a large rambling structure. On one side there was a large parking lot and the other side shielded a few humble dwellings. The whole complex just seemed to pop up in the middle of nowhere. The show room displayed a variety of attractive pieces, including some old-style majolica-like pieces, some of which seemed to be of museum quality. These were just what she wanted to buy for her mother. Her need for a restroom was momentarily forgotten in her enthusiastic examination of the pottery on display. She and Jack carefully perused the offerings and finally selected six pieces, platters and serving dishes, four for her mother, one for Mrs. B and one for their own use. They would have bought more, but they worried about how much could be safely checked as luggage on the plane going back. Then while the young clerk carefully packed the pieces for them she asked to use the restroom.

The young girl rattled off instructions pointing towards the back and Claire headed that way, assuring Jack she’d be right back. “The back” was a casual description of a hodge-podge of enclosed spaces used for various steps in completing the pots. And because they had apparently arrived during the lunch hour there was no one around to direct her to the restroom. She hurried through space after space, some filled with more pottery, some containing work tables and wheeled racks holding bisqued pieces waiting for glazing. She glanced in a room with pottery wheels and other paraphernalia she didn’t even know how to describe, but she finally located the restroom and was grateful to find it was reasonably clean, although by this time she wasn’t going to be too fussy.

When she finished she found she was a little confused about how to get back to the showroom. She wandered into a room which led to a courtyard with a roof overhead and two mammoth kilns, one glowing from the fire inside. She knew she hadn’t come this way and turned around. She passed a closed door and found herself in a room with packing supplies and dozens of small black frogs. These were so similar to the prototypes she had seen in Jeff’s studio she knew they were copies of his pieces. She picked one up, examining it critically and grinned. She had to get one. It would look perfect in her friend’s pristine garden. It would add a little character and she knew her friend, Lucy, would love it, especially when she heard that Jeff called it his black prince.

Since there was no one available to price it, she just took it with her to the front. She finally stumbled into the room with the racks of pottery, which she recognized from earlier, and then it only took her a moment more to emerge into the shop.

She plunked the frog down on the counter and asked, “How much?”

The clerk looked puzzled and shook her head. Claire tried to explain where she found it. The clerk didn’t want to sell it; saying it must be part of a special order.

“Oh, no, I have to have it. Lucy would love it. Please, Jack, convince her. Even if it is a special order there were dozens there, surely they won’t miss one.”

Somehow Jack did talk the clerk into selling it to them. Even willingly, paying an exorbitant amount for the frog, which he thought was ugly. Since the box with the other pieces had already been sealed, Claire just put the frog, wrapped in paper and taped, into the tote bag she was carrying.

When they emerged triumphantly, Raphael was leaning against the car in the dusty empty street waiting for them. He stowed the box in the trunk and soon they were off to Guanajuato.

Soon the terrain began to look very different. They were in the mountains and the road was twisting and curving up, always up, through the tall trees covering the terrain. As soon as they entered the beginnings of the city, they could see this was different than the dusty, old Delores Hidalgo or the picturesque San Miguel.

Raphael said he was going up to the top for a look at the city by the statue of El Pipila before taking them in to explore the city center. He laughingly explained that Guanajuato meant mountain place of frogs and was established in 1540, after the Spanish found silver there.

“Frogs, how appropriate. See Jack, Lucy is going to love that piece of pottery.” Claire grinned; it seemed the frog was meant for her to buy.

She loved the look of this city and the narrow streets with the brightly colored buildings climbing up the mountains. They were surprised when the road they were on plunged deeply into a tunnel beneath the town. The whole town was riddled with tunnels intersecting and branching off in all directions. Cars were parked haphazardly on both sides in the tunnels, especially near the stairs which provided a way out.

“It’s an old city and like many in Europe, parking is at a premium in the city center. People have learned to park where they can and take the stairs to their destination. And some park on streets farther away and take the bus down into the city center,” Raphael explained.

He exited the tunnels and drove up a little street crowded with small shops selling ice creams and souvenirs to pull into a parking space near a vendor selling booklets with the story of the city. After a discussion with the vendor he led them to the plaza dominated by a very large stone monument and then the edge of the mountain where they could look over the valley filled with an astonishing assortment of buildings. Directly below them were the tracks of the funicular, a little cable car which clung to the steep track as it climbed the cliff.

“What is that building down there?”

“Ah, that is the Teatro Juarez, a very famous opera house. I believe it is open for touring if you’d like to see it. It is very old and very grand and the sound is heavenly. And there,” he pointed, “is the University of Guanajuato. It is a very prestigious school of theatre and music. See all the buildings look the same.”

“Raphael, these three towns, Guanajuato, Delores Hidalgo and San Miguel are so close to each other, but each is entirely different. Is that usual for towns in Mexico?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I’m sorry to say that most towns are more likely to look like Delores Hidalgo or even the little village where we visited the pottery. Both Guanajuato and San Miguel are unique. Of course there are other towns with unique qualities, but they are spread around.”

Claire snapped a few pictures and then put her camera back in the tote bag, hanging from her shoulder, so Raphael suggested, “Let’s go down to the city center and you can explore. The Jardin here is called Jardin Union. It is very beautiful and lined with outdoor cafes. And while this is a very beautiful city, there will not be as many Americans or Canadians here. I’m not sure why, but as a result I’m afraid you may not find English spoken here as readily as in San Miguel.”

Raphael pulled his car into an area in front of the Teatro Juarez which seemed reserved for taxis and touring cars. He handed them a map of the city with a list of sites of interest. “This is the Teatro Juarez, you should be able to find it easily, and around the corner behind it you will find the funicular we saw from the top, in case you’d like to ride it. Across the way over there is the Jardin Union. There are plenty of cafes. Take your time and enjoy yourselves. When you’re ready to return, you will find me here waiting.”

Jack and Claire got out of the car, took the map and eagerly headed toward the Jardin.

“I feel like I’ve been turned loose in an amusement park; kind of excited, like I don’t know what to do first.”

“Well, I know what we’re going to do!” Jack was headed for the Jardin Union. “We’re going to find a pleasant café and have a drink and something to eat. I’m starved.”

Claire laughed. “Me too,” she admitted.

*  *  *

“We’ve lost one.”

“What do you mean lost one?” He barked into the receiver, “How could you lose one? They don’t walk, do they?”

“Lost as in some dumb tourist bought one and took it with her.”

“What! How in the hell could a tourist see it?”

“Shit happens, you know? Tony was all set to start packing, when one of the girls invited him to have lunch with her. He says she had tamales and she makes great tamales, so naturally he didn’t see the harm in packing after lunch. When he came back he noticed he was one short. He unpacked everything and counted them. One was missing. He searched all over for it and finally asked the clerk in the shop. When he described what he was looking for she admitted selling it to a tourist, who apparently saw it when she went back to use the restroom. She said she tried to talk her out of buying it as it didn’t have a price tag, but the woman insisted. She said she put a very high price on it to discourage her, but the woman still bought it. The clerk was proud of the money she charged, stupid pig! Little did she know the real value of that particular piece.”

“Well, we’ll have to get it back. Not only is it too valuable to be lost, but there’s always the danger that someone will discover what it is.

“You and Ricky will have to retrieve it. Do you have any leads?”

“We have the name on the credit card the guy used, Jack Rallins...”

“Jack Rallins! Oh, shit.”

The silence hung heavy across the miles. “That is definitely the wrong person to have one of our frogs.” His voice was heavy with doom. “We need it back. Jack Rallins is traveling with his friend, Claire Gulliver. I just saw them at a party last night. Did the clerk say how they came and where they may be going?”

“Yes, she said they came with a tour car, driven by Raphael. He introduced them when they came in. They have an arrangement with these drivers so they get a percentage of whatever the customers spend in the shop. But she says they didn’t say where they were going next, although she would guess it would be either Guanajuato or Delores Hidalgo.”

“Never mind, I’ll find out. Hold on a minute and I’ll call Raphael on the other phone.”

After a short pause the voice came through the phone once more. “We’re in luck. They’re in Guanajuato. Raphael is driving a silver BMW, 740i series. You and Ricky make sure they don’t make it back here. I’m afraid they’re going to have a terrible accident.”

“Good idea, I know just the place. That road can be treacherous. We’ll take care of it, trust us.”

“Don’t forget I want the frog back. So you’ll have to be first on the scene, understand?”

“We’ll get it. Don’t worry.”

“And then we need to have a talk with Tony. His penchant for tamales led to this situation and that’s just not acceptable.” On that ominous note he broke the connection.

“Are you having a bad morning? Your scowl is what I would describe as thunderous,” Kathleen said as she entered the den.

“I wasn’t until I got that call.”

She arched her brows, waiting for more information.

“I think we have a real problem at the factory. It seems Tony was going to pack up the pieces today and got distracted by an offer of homemade tamales. While he was gone a tourist on the way to the restroom wandered by and picked up one of our frogs. She apparently loved it and insisted the clerk sell it to her. The clerk, a young girl who has only been working there a couple of weeks was reluctant and put a ridiculous price on it to discourage the sale, but the woman bought it anyway.”

He stopped, watching the astonishment on Kathleen’s face turn into fury.

“She sold it? She sold one of our frogs?”

“That’s not the worst of it.” He paused a moment to let the suspense build. “It turns out she sold it to your friend, Jack Rallins.”

“What? I can’t believe it.” Kathleen was sputtering. The words were falling over each other. “Jack and Claire have one of our frogs? How could that be? How did they even find the place? What if they recognize it? Our whole plan is in jeopardy.”

He shook his head at the stupidity of the situation. “I told you, Claire Gulliver is trouble. Things just seem to happen around her and none of them are good for me. That pottery is a favorite of the tour car drivers because their clients love the merchandise. Jack and Claire hired Raphael to take them on a tour of Delores Hidalgo and Guanajuato and of course he stopped at the pottery on the way.

“Maybe we’ve made the pieces too attractive. I didn’t want to model them after Jeff’s frog. That was your idea. I thought it was too artsy looking. Remember? You thought it would be funny. But it’s not so funny, now. That hunk of coca negra, shaped as a frog is worth a lot of money to us. We need to get it back and we need to make sure Jack Rallins doesn’t stumble on to what it’s made out of.” He shook his head with disgust. “Claire and Jack have just sealed their fate. Ben and Ricky will see Raphael’s car gets run off the road on its way back to San Miguel and somehow in trying to aid the victims of this terrible crash, they will retrieve the frog for us. “

Kathleen nodded her grim approval. “That may solve the immediate problem, but what about the security issue at the factory? We can’t have something like this happening again.”

He nodded. “I agree completely. First of all we are going to take care of Tony. We’ll bring in someone else, who has better judgment, someone who will not be so easily distracted from what he is doing. Next, I’ll instruct Ben that all manufacturing, packing and shipping will be done in the locked section of the factory to prevent any further problems.”

She nodded. “I agree. The chances of another tourist wandering through are remote, but there are always the regular workers who might be curious. What goes on behind the locked doors won’t be their problem. And what they don’t see won’t stir their imaginations and tempt them to investigate.”

There was a silence as they both thought about the solution to their problems.

“What about Tony? What are you going to do about him?”

“Don’t worry; Ben will take care of him. He’ll just disappear one day, probably fall in one of the old mine shafts. They’re a real danger around here.”

*  *  *

Phil silently stepped into the library. He wasn’t anxious to interrupt Manny while he was watching the three televisions mounted in the far wall. Manny was furious. Actually, Phil admitted, he had good reason to be upset. Somehow the Feds stumbled onto the container they had coming in through the port with a shipment of cocaine and the news of that discovery was all over CNN. It was spooky how they had found that one container. It was almost as if they had been led to it. But Phil knew that wasn’t possible. There had been no leak. Only he and Manny knew about the container and Manny wouldn’t have told and he knew he didn’t.... So?

It had to be dumb luck. And they were hurting. Dr. Nose had been complaining, well, as much as he dared to complain. He said he couldn’t fill the orders he had. And if all that wasn’t bad enough, now he had to report more bad news to Manny.

Phil slipped into the leather chair sitting in front of Manny’s desk and waited patiently for Manny to listen to him.

“Christ! Listen to them. You’d have thought they invented the wheel or something. It’s just dumb luck. Shit, lucky for them, not for us!”

Manny sat back in his chair, took a cigarette out of the little box on the edge of his desk and lit it. He sucked in deeply and then let it drift out through his nostrils, visibly relaxing as the smoke hit his lungs.

“All right Phil. What have you got? I can tell you’re jumping with news. I hope to God it’s good, but I can see by your face it’s not.”

Phil shook his head gloomily. “It’s that gang on the west side, the Tigers. They’re moving into the club area out there. They don’t seem to be hurting for product. And they’re boldly offering to supply the area.”

Manny sat up. “Those nervy little bastards,” he growled then pounded on the desk with his fist. “We need to teach them a lesson in professional courtesy; one that others can learn from as well. Get Angelo in here!”

Manny puffed furiously on this cigarette as Phil pulled out his cell phone and made a call to Angelo. Then while they waited for Angelo to arrive from the rooms over the garage, they discussed the members of the Tigers and who should be targeted as the object of this lesson.

Phil suggested they take out Gilberto, the Tiger’s cocky leader, and effectively destroy the gang. But Manny was more cunning and even crueler. He wanted to take out Hector, Gilberto’s little brother.

“We need to make sure Gilberto is there to keep control over the gang. If we take him out, the rest might over-react and start a full scale war and then it will take too much effort getting the area back under control. Trust me on this, Gilberto will understand the lesson. He’s more than a big brother to Hector; he’s like Hector’s father. He dotes on that kid. He’s been in charge of his whole family now since his mother was gunned down at the corner store robbery.

“But, lately he’s been getting a little too big for his britches. He knows I own that area. He knows he has no business there. He needs a good lesson.”

Angelo arrived and nodded excitedly as Manny gave him his instructions.

“And Angelo, if any others in the car just happened to get killed along with the target, I’ll understand. Sometimes you just can’t control where all the bullets go.” Manny smiled with benevolence. “Just make sure you get Hector, and do it early in the day. They won’t be watching for trouble then.”

Angelo was jumping; he liked this kind of work. He left the library promising results before morning.

Phil stared at the door as it closed behind Angelo. Then he shook his head. Stupid, cocky Gilberto; he was only a kid, posturing and bragging to his gang, but he had overstepped his bounds, and now they would all pay for it. And Phil wondered if they would really learn much, certainly not enough to justify the price they were going to pay.

“Damn. Where is that bitch, KC? I’ve called her and called her. All I get is her answering machine. I’m ready to do business, if I can find her.” He thumped his fist down on the desk again. “I need product. The business is going south without it.

“Phil, call New Orleans and see if you can get us some product to hold us over until the next shipment comes in. Offer them premium price. We need the product.”

CHAPTER 6

“Is that it?” Ricky pointed to the upper road.

“Where?”

“There, just after that curve. It’s silver, see.”

“Are you crazy? That’s not a BMW. That’s a Volkswagen Beetle. Can’t you tell the difference? What’s the matter with you?” Ben’s voice dripped with scorn and he settled back to wait. The way Ricky was bouncing around in the seat was beginning to worry him. He wondered if he had been sampling some of the cocaine they had been processing.

This was a serious business they were in, and there was no room for coke heads who might jeopardize their operation. He’d have to keep an eye on Ricky, he decided gloomily. Already he was going to have to dispose of Tony. Now he wondered if he would have to take care of Ricky, too. And that would mean bringing in some more guys and then training them. He boiled with frustration. This was turning out to be a harder job than he thought it would be when he signed on.

He was a city guy, Mexico City to be exact. This little hill area was totally foreign to him. But he had been involved with the Columbia drug cartel for years. And against all odds he had survived. So when his bosses made a deal with the Irishman to provide the cocaine for his process to turn it into coca negra in order to move it into the States to be converted back into pure cocaine for distribution, he had jumped at the chance to be their man on site. This was his big chance to score.

Only recently he had begun to realize how fortunate he was to have survived this long in the business; he was also starting to think carefully about retirement. The Irishman promised him a substantial reward for his expertise and Ben felt this was a man who could make a success of the expensive process of converting the drug. He knew all about the process of adding cobalt and ferric chloride to the white powder and forming black bricks that would get past the usual detection methods of sniffing drug dogs as well as the tests used to determine whether or not cocaine was present. But the Irishman and the woman came up with the idea of forming the bricks into little statues. It was brilliant. He suspected it was undetectable unless someone tipped the authorities. Or unless someone like Ricky blabbed.

He glanced at Ricky again. He had worked with him for quite a while and found him to be reliable, but he hadn’t noticed the twitching or his nervousness before. If Ricky had succumbed to the temptation of the white powder, he’d have to go. He wouldn’t be reliable any more.

Now he saw the car. It was the right shape and the right color. It had to be the right car. He watched carefully and saw there were no cars following closely. Perfect. He eased his battered, dusty truck closer to the road, positioned himself to watch in his side mirror for the BMW to head down this section of road. “They’re coming!” was all the warning he gave Ricky, concentrating totally on the mirror image. The silver car was in the mirror now, then it flashed past and he pulled off the shoulder into the road and accelerated to catch up. Soon as the road began curving sharply he was right behind the silver car and could see the BMW symbol on the back. He couldn’t see into the car as the darkened windows masked the passengers from the brilliance of the sun, but also prevented Ben from identifying the passengers. But it fit the description, and he knew there weren’t likely to be many of this type of vehicle on this mountain road. He was confident he had the right car.

He pulled up to its bumper and then seeing no one was in the oncoming lane pulled out as if to pass. The silver car slowed to give the truck ample opportunity to pass, but Ben slowed too, staying even with the BMW and when the road curved sharply to the right, he pulled the steering wheel sharply and broadsided the BMW.

There was a shriek of metal against metal; then the hiss of tires skidding on the asphalt as the driver stood on his brakes. The car went through the barrier of plants growing at the edge of the road before plunging over the embankment and out of sight.

Ben fought with the wheel of his truck when the resistance of the BMW was suddenly gone. His truck swerved dangerously toward the edge of the road. Finally he got it under control. Braking hard as he pulled to the side, he then quickly shifted into reverse and backed up to just before the place the other car went over. He pulled the brake and leaped out of his truck just in time to see the BMW explode into flames. He staggered back from the sudden heat, shocked at this bad luck.

He looked over at Ricky who now stood beside him, opened-mouthed, and gaping. “I guess there won’t be any survivors.” But he was wondering how the Irishman was going to accept his explanation for why he couldn’t deliver his frog. Who would have expected the car to explode? He wondered if there was an engineering flaw in this car.

“Let’s get out of here.” They got back in the truck and peeled rubber leaving the scene. Let someone else be the Good Samaritan and call in the accident. They were out of there.

*  *  *

“I thought that was you. What are you doing in here?” Kaye Carter smiled as she grabbed Claire’s arm.

“Looking at Diego Rivera’s paintings?” Claire grinned at Kaye’s surprised look. “Look at this one. Doesn’t this face look a little cockeyed? I’m kind of surprised to see something so amateurish by such a renowned artist, but I suppose everyone has some failures. He probably did this when he was two, or something like that.”

Kaye studied the painting, nodding. “Definitely not one of his best. But I suppose when you become a famous anything, they save and display every piece you’ve ever made. Actually, I meant Guanajuato. What are you doing in Guanajuato?”

Now Claire laughed. “We thought it was required of all San Miguel tourists so we booked a car for a tour. Are you now saying it isn’t?”

“Silly, actually, I think it is required. Isn’t it beautiful here? Steve and I come frequently just for a change of scenery.”

“Is he here?” Claire looked around and saw only Jack engrossed in the sketch of one of Rivera’s murals in the next room.

“No, he was coming, but at the last minute he changed his mind, something to do with one of his projects. But I wasn’t about to change my plans because the sisters are giving a performance tonight at the Teatro Juarez.”

“The Mondot sisters? Oh, how nice. Jeff told me they were very good.”

Kaye nodded. “They are and they don’t perform very often. This is special, for the benefit of a student at the college who has been diagnosed with leukemia. They are raising funds for a bone marrow transplant. It’s very expensive. It’s going to be a twilight concert, at six-thirty.” Kaye looked at Claire again. “You know, if you’d like to come I have an extra ticket so you’d only have to buy one more.”

“That’s very nice of you. I’d love to hear them and to see the inside of that old theatre, but Jack and I hired a car for the day and the driver is waiting for us near the Jardin Union.”

“But you could ride back with me. I have plenty of room and frankly, I would appreciate the company. Just let your driver go and come with me. What do you say?”

“Well, I say, let me talk to Jack a minute.”

She left Kaye looking at the paintings displayed on the wall and interrupted Jack.

“It’s okay with me; do you think you’d like to hear them?”

“I’d love it. Remember that concert we went to in Venice? If this is only a fraction of the quality of that one it will be a treat. And it is going to be in the old opera house. That would be worth the change of plans. Would you mind riding back with Kaye?”

“Why not? She seems to be a responsible person and she managed to drive here, so she must be competent enough to get us back. Let’s talk to her about it.”

“Hi Kaye, it’s really nice of you to offer us a ticket and a ride. Are you sure it won’t be an inconvenience? I could just arrange to have Raphael wait for us.”

“No, no that’s a foolish expense. I’m going back; I’m alone, so I’ll be glad for the company and the Pruitt’s house isn’t even very far from our house. Please, say yes. It would be good to use the ticket and when you buy another one it will just be that much more for that poor girl’s treatment fund.”

“Let’s do it.” Jack nodded decisively.

They walked back through town and Jack left the ladies on the steps of the theatre while he went and talked to Raphael. Claire saw a lot of nods and smiles, then Jack pulled out his wallet and paid Raphael and turned back to join them.

“Now, let’s see about getting another ticket.” Jack led the way up the stairs and discussed the purchase of a ticket with the man in the ticket booth. “If we’re going to sit together, I need your tickets Kaye so the gentleman can exchange them for three together.”

Kaye produced the tickets and the transaction was made. They all stood for a moment at the top of the steps looking over the Jardin Union stretched in front of them. “How about we get some dinner before the show? I think we have time.”

Claire smiled; it seemed to her that Jack was always hungry. She assumed it was part of his healing process, but she admitted she could probably eat again, too. She was getting used to having drinks and snacks every afternoon.

Kaye nodded. “Good idea because the concert will last until about eight and then we’ll want to get on the road. I suggest Posada Santa Fe, there, or Casa Valadez. Either of them would be good.”

“Let’s sit at the one on the sidewalk. We stopped at that one over there earlier today, so this will be different.” Jack pointed.

Claire agreed as she loved sitting outdoors where they could watch the people while they ate.

“I can’t get over how much this city reminds me of a town in Italy,” Jack said looking around.

“Really? What town is that?” Kaye asked.

“Sorrento. It’s on the coast below Naples and very close to Pompeii. In fact, I believe many of the tours to Pompeii come from Sorrento. It sits on the mountains at the edge of the sea and has a city center with a park and sidewalk cafes just like this. And the buildings all climb the hills as they do here. But Sorrento is known for their lemons. People have lemons growing everywhere. They grow them on trees which are tied up almost like grape vines. They use the lemons to make a wonderful lemon liqueur.” Jack smiled remembering it. “It’s a beautiful town.”

He looked at Claire. “Some day I’ll take you there. It’s a perfect place to stay if you want to see the Amalfi Coast or take the boat over to the Isle of Capri. I think the southern part of Italy is somewhat neglected.”

Claire nodded dreamily, thinking how wonderful it would be to explore the southern part of Italy with Jack.

Kaye nodded with enthusiasm. “We’ve been to Sorrento and I think you’re right. Guanajuato is very much like it. I’ll have to mention that to Steve and see if he agrees. We loved our trip to that area, perhaps that’s why we’re so taken with this area.”

Suddenly Claire sat up, her eyes wide as she remembered. “Jack. We forgot the box of pottery we had in Raphael’s trunk.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t. He’s going to deliver it to the house tomorrow morning before he goes out on his trip. Relax.”

She nodded sheepishly. She forgot how capable Jack was. He wasn’t likely to overlook things the way she might.

“So Raphael stopped by one of the potteries?”

“Yes, and we bought a box full. My mother does catering and she loves to use nice pottery dishes as serving pieces. She brought several back from Italy last year when we were there. We found some things just as nice at this pottery Raphael took us to. I confess I even bought a piece for me, and I don’t even cook.” She laughed.

“Well, you know these guys get a percentage, so I’m sure he was happy you liked the pottery he chose.”

“We loved it, and I don’t really care if he gets a commission. The price was very good and the quality was excellent. I wouldn’t have found it without him.”

The waiter served their salads, and Kaye and Jack talked further about some of the places they visited in Italy. Claire told Kaye about the concert they attended in the church in Venice the year before. By the time their coffee was served, they could see people starting to arrive at the opera house. Claire and Kaye took turns using the facilities while Jack settled the bill and they joined the crowd in front of the Teatro Juarez.

“I’m relieved to see many people are dressed casually. I was a little worried,” Claire commented.

Jack just raised his eyebrows; he never worried about the dress code.

Kaye laughed. “It’s a benefit for the University. Much of the audience will be students and not given to dressing up for any occasion.”

Claire nodded as she noted the grandeur of the Teatro Juarez. It was old, but still classy. There were four tiers of seats in the elaborate hall, and the upstairs lobby floor was made of glass bricks, allowing people to see through to the next floor down, distorted though the view was. She was very glad they had decided to attend as she just knew it was going to be an enjoyable experience.

The usher led them to their seats in the first tier of the balcony and handed them each a program. It told the story of the girl for whose benefit the concert was being given, and it gave an impressive list of selections to be played. On the back there was an appeal for further donations and prayers.

The lights dimmed and the audience quieted. The curtains rose to reveal the Mondot sisters on stage. Lucille, clad in a long black gown was primly seated at the huge piano, Margery, in dark blue satin, sat in a chair with her cello between her knees. Then with a crash of sound, seemingly impossible to come from Lucille’s delicate fingers, the concert began. Claire sat enthralled, as was the entire audience.

The sisters played an eclectic selection including Bach, Handel, even a selection from the movie Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, before ending with Carnival of the Animals. Because it was a twilight concert, it was explained there would be no intermission, only a short break for the musicians while the organizers spoke about the girl who would be the recipient of tonight’s efforts. At the end the concert, the audience enthusiastically showed their approval of the sisters’ performance, holding them on stage for nearly ten minutes before allowing them to escape to the wings.

“Can you imagine being that talented?” Claire asked, her eyes shining with pleasure. “It must take hours and hours of practice, and they make it look so effortless, so natural.”

They joined the throng emerging from the theatre, pausing for a moment at the top of the steps to look over the crowd before heading down to the ground. Kaye led them around the building to the ticket booth of the funicular explaining. “I parked up at the top. I find it easy to get into town that way and easier to get out again. Do you mind?”

They followed her on the waiting car and then watched as the Jardin Union and the theatre crowd receded as they climbed up the track. The funicular let them out a couple of flights of stairs from the top. Kaye proudly led them through the parking lot at the top to the street where her car was parked. It was a clever way to park close to the city center, but out of the crowd. Soon they were on the dark mountainous road heading back to San Miguel. Claire sat in the back seat dreamily letting the music replay itself in her head while Kaye and Jack continued their discussion of some of the towns in Italy they loved.

CHAPTER 7

It was hard to get out of bed in the morning. Although Claire heard the bells, today they weren’t any more annoying than the birds singing outside her window. She just buried her head deeper in the pillows, snuggled closer to Jack, glad to feel his arm wrapped around her. When they finally got up and dressed, they decided to cook breakfast in. Claire carefully fried the bacon to perfect crispness while Jack fried corn tortillas, mashed ripe avocado on top and then topped it with a fried egg.

“Yummy, when did you learn how to make this?” Claire was trying to be dainty by cutting the tortilla into bite size pieces, but found it was impossible to get the bites in her mouth without dripping the egg yolk all down her blouse. Finally, giving up on the fork, she just scooped up the crispy tortilla and bit off chunks, holding her head out over her plate to catch the drips.

“This morning while the bells were tolling. It seemed like a good idea and I think it worked, don’t you?”

Claire nodded, licking yolk off her fingers. “It’s delicious. And the avocados are perfect. Maybe this afternoon I’ll make some guacamole for our little cocktail hour.” She smiled thinking about it, then she frowned. “You don’t think I’m getting hooked on Margaritas, do you? I mean, isn’t that how people become alcoholics? You know, first it’s just a few social drinks and then they’re looking forward to the cocktail hour all day and before you know it they’re alcoholics?”

Jack looked at her strangely. “Is there a history of alcoholics in your family?”

She shook her head.

“Then why are you worrying about it?”

She smiled sheepishly. “I guess I think I’m having too much fun. Something bad is bound to happen.”

“Oh, the optimist? Well don’t worry; I don’t see that you’ll have the time to stop your work day for Margaritas and a siesta in the middle of the afternoon. Do you?”

“No, you’re right.” She laughed, explaining, “After I came back from England I was determined to have tea every afternoon. It seemed so civilized. I thought I would serve it at the bookshop and it would be good for business and good for me. I think I did it once, maybe twice, before I forgot all about it. Once the day gets going, it’s hard to stop long enough to go to the bathroom say nothing about taking a break. Tea or Margaritas sound really good, but just aren’t practical.”

“That’s what’s so good about vacations. You take the time for these things. I imagine you’d have to drink a lot more than you’ve been doing here to get started on a path spiraling down to alcoholism. Not that some people don’t fall into that trap, but since you don’t seem to have a weakness for the drink, I think you’re pretty safe.”

He finished his coffee. “So, what should we do today?”

“I thought we should go to the Bellas Artes. Kaye mentioned they were having an art fair today with lots of the local artists. That might be fun.”

“Okay, sounds good. Leave the dishes, Claire. Helen Marie will be here any time now and you’re doing her job.”

Claire looked guilty, drying her hands on a dish towel. “For sure I don’t want to take her job from her. Let me get my bag and my hat and I’ll be ready.

“Should we walk through the park first and see what’s happening?”

“No, let’s go the other way and see what’s down that way. We’ll get to the park later. I’m sure if anything is happening, it will wait until we get there.”

They walked down the street, hand in hand, looking at the shops and businesses along the way. “I love just being able to wander and not have to be anywhere at any special time, don’t you?”

Jack nodded, pausing to look at pictures of houses for sale in the window of a real estate office. “Look at this one, Claire, pretty reasonable, wouldn’t you say?”

She looked at the picture with the description of the property. “No wonder people want to retire here. It certainly seems reasonably priced as compared to Bayside.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this, Claire, but almost anywhere is going to be reasonable as compared to Bayside and all the towns in Northern California. Your house and your bookshop must be worth a fortune.”

She looked at him surprised. “Do you think so?” Then reality struck. “I guess you’re right. I inherited them from my uncle and they were pretty rundown then so the appraisal was fairly low, thank God, because otherwise I probably couldn’t have afforded to pay the inheritance taxes. I confess I really haven’t been keeping up with the housing prices, but I know they’re going up. I hear people talking about it all the time. But somehow I don’t think of my property as a lump of cash, you know?”

“Well, I’ve been reading the papers including the real estate section, and I know the prices. They’re high, very high. But I guess it’s the same in New York, Washington D.C., London and parts of Los Angeles. If you’ve got property in those places, it’s not so bad because you’ll get high prices for what you have, even though you pay higher prices for what you want. But if you are looking for a place to retire, like I am, Bayside is way too pricy.”

She grinned. “Unless, you know someone who already has property.”

He looked into her eyes, then nodded his head, a little smile on his lips. “Yes, unless you happen to have a girl who owns property.” His arm snaked out and wrapped around her waist, pulling her to him in a hug. He released her and they both turned to head up the street again.

“So Jack, are you seriously considering retiring?”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s not just my injury, that’s just one of the risks of the business. No, I’ve been thinking about retirement for a while. I told you that. I think I’ve been too many years in the business, with too many risks. Sometimes I wonder what I’m accomplishing. Each time I go after one of the bad guys and we stop the madness for a brief moment, it inevitably starts all over again. Even though it’s someone else, some other scheme, it just seems such a futile effort. Hell, let the younger guys do it.”

She nodded. She could understand his view.

“I’ve talked to my boss and I think I have a good chance of being assigned as a liaison officer in San Francisco. That’s a new position they developed after Nine-eleven to ensure the CIA interacts with the FBI and the local authorities. Because of my years of service I can have it if I want it.”

Claire turned with a huge smile on her face. “Jack, that would be wonderful. Are you going to take it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m considering it seriously. I’d like to live like a normal person.” He turned and looked at her intently. “I think I’d like to have a wife, be part of a family. I’d like to have more interaction with my daughter. It would be nice to have her visit, maybe meet you. I’d like you to get to know her. But it’s a little scary, you know? I always planned to leave the field work some time, but now that it’s looming in front of me, it seems so final. It’s like giving myself permission to become old and I think I’m still too young for that.”

She nodded encouragingly.

“Well, I don’t have to make up my mind until the doctor releases me as fit to work, and he said it was going to be at least another month, so I’m just mulling it over.” He smiled at her. “But your opinion counts, so feel free to lobby one way or the other.”

They were now on the street catty-cornered from the Bellas Artes and directly across the street from the fruit lady they had seen before. She had an amazing array of fresh fruit on a wheeled cart and people were constantly stopping for her to peel them a mango, sell them a cup of fruit chunks or wrap a hunk of pineapple for them to eat as they walked.

“That looks so good, but I’d never be brave enough to eat fresh fruit off a street vendor cart like that. Do you think that makes me a wimp?” Claire asked Jack, wistfully, taking the opportunity to change the subject. This was the first time they had come close to discussing their future together, and it was a little scary to her.

“No, you’re probably just being a sensible tourist. It doesn’t seem to deter the locals, but they are probably immune to some of the bugs that could knock us off our feet.”

Claire fished her little camera out of her bag. “Well even though I’m not eating her fruit, I think I’d like a picture. It’s so colorful and pleasant looking.” She found a good spot to focus and then waited patiently for a break in the traffic before snapping her picture. “Oh, that’s a good one, look Jack.” She held up the camera with the picture reflected on the little screen for his inspection.

Then the traffic light flashed green and they headed across Canal Street. When they turned and crossed Calle Hernandez Macias, they found themselves in a crowd of people clustered around the entrance to the Bellas Artes. This building, Kaye had told them, was originally a convent, but now was a government cultural center. It was built around a courtyard and the four-sided, multi-floored building held an art gallery, a café, an art school, a bookstore, offices for several civic groups and it had several auditoriums which were used when the music festival was in session. Now, the courtyard and shaded arcades surrounding the courtyard were filled with local artisans displaying their works of art. The classrooms were open for inspection and the students were offering their pieces for sale in the rooms where they were made. The café was in the corner near the gallery and seemed to be doing a great business.

Claire saw a display of local pottery and turned to Jack with dismay clearly on her face. “Jack, our pottery. Raphael didn’t bring it by this morning. Do you suppose he forgot?”

Jack thought a minute, then shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t have forgotten. Something must have come up and he didn’t want to disturb us by calling too early on Saturday morning. Don’t worry, if he doesn’t drop it off this afternoon, I’ll give him a call. Things happen. I’m sure he didn’t steal your pots, Claire.”

Then in a droll voice he admonished, “So you don’t have to buy replacement pieces today.”

“Silly. Of course not, but I may have to buy a few things. Look at this stuff. It makes you feel like you need to take the opportunity to spend, spend, spend.”

“Just remember, you have to carry it all home with you.”

She nodded, soberly, that was always the problem. “Thank goodness for Vantage’s VIP status; they let me carry on as much as I can carry no matter what the rules say.”

Jack laughed. “The operative words are ‘as much as you can carry.’ Remember that as you get your wallet out.”

They had worked their way around two sides of the courtyard, examining the items on sale and ducking into the classrooms for papermaking, weaving and drawing. So far Claire had only bought a few things, a mirror in a frame hammered out of a variety of metals that she was certain would fit in her suitcase and an assortment of papers to use for notes and letters.

“That mirror is going to be perfect in the hall outside the bathroom, you’ll see,” she assured Jack, who had it tucked under one arm.

He nodded benignly; he hadn’t bought anything, but was enjoying looking at all the wares. They were just emerging from the sculptor classroom when they ran into Kathleen.

Claire and Kathleen actually collided with such force they were both reeling. It was almost comical.

Jack grabbed Claire to steady her while he put out his other hand to help steady Kathleen, somehow managing to keep the wrapped mirror tucked under his arm. “Are you both all right? I’m so sorry Kathleen, we should have been watching where we were going.”

“No, no it wasn’t your fault. I was distracted by the display of jewelry and confess I was not watching. I think I ran into you.” Her eyes were wide in her pale face. She had obviously been startled.

“Are you all right, Claire?” Jack was concerned.

“I’m fine. I’m just glad you didn’t drop the mirror. Seven years of bad luck is more than we need.” Her smile included Kathleen. She was determined to be gracious even though Kathleen was right; she had been the one who had run into them.

“Here, we’d better get out of the way. We’re holding up traffic.” Jack guided the two women to the edge of the courtyard where a bench sat near the fountain.

Claire sat down a moment and Jack set the mirror beside her. “Have a seat a moment, Kathleen, and tell us what you’ve been up to.”

Kathleen’s smile seemed jittery. “Not much. That’s what is so wonderful about a visit to San Miguel. It can be wickedly lazy.”

Then glancing from Claire to Jack, “But you are the tourists. What have you been doing since Teddy’s wonderful party?”

“We went to Delores Hidalgo and Guanajuato yesterday.”

“Oh, how nice. Did you enjoy it?” Kathleen’s face was still very pale and she seemed a little spacey.

Jack nodded. “Yes, I was very interested in seeing Delores Hidalgo as I’m reading a book about the revolution. So it was very appropriate to visit some of the sites where those historical events occurred. And we both found Guanajuato to be an exceptionally beautiful city, much like some of our favorites in Europe.”

“And we ran into Kaye Carter there. She told us the Mondot sisters were giving a concert, so we ended up dismissing our driver and staying for the concert. It was wonderful. They are marvelous musicians. It was just one of those opportunities we didn’t want to miss,” Claire added, even now her pleasure was clear in her voice.

Jack nodded. “True, and as we rode back with Kaye, it worked out very well.”

“Today we’re just wandering around town, but tomorrow we’re going on the Home Tour the Biblioteca sponsors. It sounds like a lot of fun. Have you been?” Claire was trying to make conversation to give Kathleen a moment to recover from her collision. She was obviously rattled by their meeting.

“Yes, many times. You’ll certainly enjoy it.” Kathleen blinked rapidly, then gave a faltering smile. “Well, it was so nice seeing you again. I hope we’ll run into each other again before you go. Only next time not physically.” She smiled tightly. “I’m afraid I have to leave now as I have an appointment.” She waved and abruptly disappeared into the crowd around the entrance.

“That was a little strange, didn’t you think?” Claire asked, looking after Kathleen with a puzzled look on her face.

“Why was it strange?” Jack responded.

“Well, she seemed upset. Her face was very pale and she kept blinking so fast; then suddenly she had to leave.” She thought a moment. “I think she was acting strange, but then I don’t know her very well, so maybe not.”

Jack shrugged. “I think we still have another side of the courtyard to examine before I can let you buy me a coffee and a sweet. Let’s get going, woman.”

*  *  *

“Well, they weren’t in that car.” She was practically hyperventilating, so the words were difficult to spit out.

Her uncle looked up from the papers he was studying at his desk, a confused expression on his face. “What? Kathleen, what’s the matter?”

“They – were – not – in – the – car!” She pronounced each word very carefully. “I know because I just ran into them at the Bellas Artes. Literally ran into them. I almost got knocked over. And when I saw who it was, I about fell over anyway.” She shook her head with frustration. “No matter what Ben told you, they weren’t in the car. It seems they ran into Kaye Carter in Guanajuato and she talked them into staying for a concert the Mondot sisters were giving. They rode home with her.”

“Are we talking about Claire and Jack?” he asked slowly.

“Yes, of course we’re talking about Claire and Jack,” she spit out with disgust.

“What about the frog?”

Her teeth were clenched so tightly it was hard to understand her words. “We didn’t discuss the frog. But I don’t think we can assume it was destroyed. I don’t think we can believe anything Ben told us.”

He carefully laid down the papers he had been studying, noticing how his hand had suddenly acquired a tremor. This was very bad news. He thought he had solved the problem of the missing frog. He hadn’t been happy to hear it had gone up in flames, but had considered the financial loss was better than the risk of discovery if it stayed in Jack and Claire’s possession.

“We can’t blame Ben for this. He told me the car had those dark mirrored windows, so he couldn’t identify the people inside. And I know he got the right car because I was in the Jardin this morning and everyone was buzzing about the awful accident that killed Raphael. No, he got the right car. Damn! This is just what I meant when I told you Claire has this uncanny luck. This is how she avoided being eliminated in Washington D.C.!”

“I say we just go in tonight and blast away. That way we can make sure we search the place and get the frog if they have it. That will solve the whole problem.”

Her uncle looked at her and slowly shook his head. “Let’s not rush in here. We need to think about all aspects of the situation.”

“Stu, are you losing it? Are you going soft? What’s with you? These people are dangerous, you said so yourself. So why are you so reluctant to take them out? This isn’t like you?” Kathleen said hotly, her voice reflecting her anger and her confusion at her uncle’s reaction.

“Calm down, Kathleen. I don’t like you talking to me like that.” He glared at her, then in an effort to get control of the situation he said, “No, I’m not getting soft, but I have learned a few things over the years. And don’t forget I’ve been involved with these people before and neither of those times was the situation resolved in a way that satisfied me. And you forget, San Miguel has been a safe haven for me for several years. I’m not anxious to jeopardize my safe house if I don’t have to. And most importantly, we have set up shop in the pottery. It’s the perfect cover and we need to protect it.

“I want to think this out carefully. When we make our move I want it to be the right move.”

Kathleen, chastised, sat down on one of the chairs facing her uncle and waited as he thought about the situation while idly doodling on one of the papers in front of him.

“Tell me everything that was said when you met them today. Don’t leave anything out.”

She concentrated and then repeated word for word the conversation she had with Claire and Jack.

“So, they will be on the Home Tour on Sunday?”

She nodded.

“That would be a very good time to break into the house and search for the frog, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but....” She hesitated, not sure if she dared admonish her uncle again. She knew he had a fiery temper, and she didn’t want him angry with her.

“Yes, but you’re worried about Claire and Jack? I’m telling you, Kathleen, sometimes you’re too quick to act. I agree with you they must go. I can’t go through life with them popping up at the most inopportune times and messing up my plans. But I’m not sure I want to do it here, in San Miguel. I’m going to think about that part, but right now recovering the frog is our most important goal. Do you agree?”

She nodded, reluctantly. It wasn’t like her to get so wrapped up in a situation she lost sight of the important issues. They needed to have control of all the frogs. Not only was it valuable, but it was a clue to what they were doing and, therefore, could potentially jeopardize their whole operation.

“I don’t think we should use Ben and the men from the pottery. There is no sense taking the risk of one of them being identified and directing attention to the pottery,” he said, thinking out loud.

“I could do it. We could get Carlos here, and he and I could do it easily.”

Her uncle looked at her. “No, Kathleen, again there is the risk of you being seen and identified. We’re going to do this in the middle of the day. We don’t want to take unnecessary risks. No, we need someone from outside, someone no one in San Miguel could identify if they saw them and remembered them.”

It was totally silent in the room, only the faint sound of the bells, which had started ringing, penetrating the thick walls of the study.

“I think,” he said slowly, the ideas forming in his head, “I think I will call my friend the Columbian, in Mexico City. He has resources. I believe he will be able to help us with this little problem.” He thumbed through his old fashioned Rolodex sitting on the credenza behind him and finding the right card, quickly punched in the number on his phone.

Kathleen listened intently as her uncle explained the situation, nodding her head in agreement from time to time. Finally he concluded his conversation and hung up the phone.

“All right, that’s settled. Now Kathleen, what are your plans for finalizing this deal in Houston with Manny Hillerman? George tells me the man keeps leaving messages for you on the answering machine, and they’re getting more frantic in tone as time goes by.”

Kathleen couldn’t keep the smile from her lips as she nodded. “Yes, I believe he is sorry he sent his goons after me.” She laughed. “I have been checking my messages, and I think he is just about ripe for a deal, but I’m still not ready to trust him.”

“You don’t have to trust him to do business with him. He’s got the money we need, so perhaps it’s time to start doing business with him. We could use the cash.”

Kathleen agreed. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll call him and make a deal. Do you want me to have him wire the money to the Cayman Island account?”

“Will he do it?”

She smiled widely. “Just watch! He’s frantic, like George says. He’ll do anything to get a source of good product.”

“Okay, do it. And let me know how it goes. If you’re going to leave with Carlos tomorrow, how will you arrange this deal?”

“Oh, I’m not going to be there. I’ll take care of it via the phone. George and Gary can deliver it. And if Manny behaves and it goes well, we’ll set up regular deliveries every time we get confirmation from the bank about his deposit.”

Her uncle nodded then picked up the papers he had dropped when she came in the room. Kathleen left quietly already planning the phone conversation she would have with Manny.

CHAPTER 8

“Coffee’s not as good,” Claire commented, “but that omelet looks great.”

Jack only nodded, because his mouth was full of egg. They had been very slow to get up and out of the house this morning due to the evening they had spent in Harry’s Bar.

Actually it was called Harry Bissett’s New Orlean’s Café, and they stopped there for a drink on their way home late yesterday afternoon, still carrying all their loot from the art festival at Bellas Artes. Somehow, after they had coffee and a pastry at Bellas Artes, they never had lunch, so later as they were heading home past Harry’s, Jack suggested they pop in for a Margarita and a bite. They sat at the bar and were having such a good time with the people they met there, they didn’t get home until very late. And during the course of the evening they drank more than their customary two Margaritas. Plus they ate a dinner of bar food which consisted of lots of tortilla chips, cheese, hot peppers and guacamole. Not necessarily the best choice for dinner.

Still, it had been a congenial group with lots of laughing and story telling, so they had fun.

“You know, Jack, you didn’t call Raphael last night.”

Jack paused, a fork full of omelet on its way to his mouth. “I know, but I did try him this morning.” A shadow crossed his eyes as he shook his head. “I didn’t reach him. He must have his phone turned off. It’s very strange, but I’ll try him again a little later; I brought his number with me.” And the fork popped the bite into his mouth.

Claire squeezed lime on her plate of orange colored papaya. She preferred fruit and toast, or as in the case of today’s breakfast, fresh baked, crusty rolls for breakfast. And she loved Mexican papaya. It grew as big as watermelons here and was deep in color and flavor. “Jack, this papaya is wonderful, are you sure you don’t want a bite?”

He shook his head. He preferred a more traditional breakfast.

“Well, I wonder if Helen Marie is coming today. I guess most people go to church on Sunday here.”

“She said she was coming every day, so I assume she meant Sundays too.”

“Well, even if she doesn’t, we didn’t leave a mess in the kitchen for her. What with having drinks and dinner out last night and now breakfast out, the kitchen still looks good.” She watched the people passing the small café they had noticed yesterday on their wanderings. They were very happy with the place on the edge of the Jardin, but Jack suggested they give this place a try for a change.

“That couple from Seattle was very nice, didn’t you think?” Claire said smiling at the memory of last night’s fun. “While you boys were playing dice she was telling me about her job. She says she travels to the San Francisco area several times a year, so maybe we’ll see them again.”

Jack nodded. “That would be fun. Too bad we didn’t run into them sooner. We could have gotten together a few times while we were here.”

Claire nodded. “The good part about traveling is meeting new people; the bad part is they’re always on their way somewhere else. Oh well, I’ve got her address and email, and so we can stay in touch. It’s kind of funny we didn’t run into any of the locals there last night. Maybe they don’t hang out at Harry’s, or maybe just not on Saturday night.”

Jack finished his breakfast and helped himself to one of the rolls left in the basket.

“Did you take your pills this morning?” Claire reminded him.

“Yes, with a piece of tortilla, but thanks for reminding me. I don’t know why I find them so hard to remember.”

“Well, you don’t have many more, do you?”

“No, probably about four more days. I’m feeling so much better, I’m wondering if I even need them.”

“Oh, no you don’t. Remember what Dr. MacIntyre said. Take them with food and don’t forget. If you don’t take the whole sequence of them, they won’t work and you’ll have to repeat them. Let’s not have to do that.”

Jack nodded sheepishly. He admitted to being a testy patient, and he was grateful that Claire put up with his whining.

“Well, it’s about time to head over to the Biblioteca, don’t you think?”

So they did.

They were both surprised at the size of the crowd milling around in the courtyard. They hadn’t realized how many tourists were in San Miguel at any one time. There were people speaking in a variety of languages, some dressed in regional garb of India, and even Africa. They didn’t see anyone they recognized, although they expected to see the others who were on their van from the airport. Claire assumed they were there in the crush, just not visible. There was a stirring of the crowd near the tunnel-like entrance, and soon people started moving in that direction. Claire and Jack followed along, finding themselves on the sidewalk where four city buses were parked. They moved toward the closest one and got on.

When the bus was full one of the volunteers wearing a ribbon to show his status came on board.

“Listen up everyone. You are in bus fifty-three. You may want to make a note of that so you’ll get on the correct bus after each stop. This bus will be starting at the destination listed on your flyer as House Number Two. After touring the house you will get on this bus and be taken to House Number Three, then to House Number One. At the end of the tour the bus will bring you back to the Biblioteca. Is everyone clear on that?” He looked around and then said, “There will be volunteers at each stop directing you through the houses, and in some cases the owners may be on site to greet you and answer your questions. Have a wonderful time and don’t forget your bus number...?”

He waited until he heard the loud response, “Fifty-three.” He nodded and waved as he swung down the steps and the driver closed the door, shifted into gear and pulled out onto the street.

The first house they visited Claire thought was near where Teddy and Jeff lived, but higher on the hill. They passed a park, near the top of the hill, where they could see flocks of white herons nesting in the trees. The bus cautiously turned onto a side street and slowly went down the hill before pulling over and parking at the entrance of a dissecting lane. As they left the bus the driver pointed them toward a volunteer standing a ways down the lane. The volunteer pointed them to a gate opening into a garden, which led to a house perched at the top of the property. The house had stunning views of San Miguel spread out in front of it. The builder had taken advantage of the views by installing large windows and well-placed terraces leading off from each room all across the width of the house. The house itself was rather generic in design, neither Spanish nor modern, but it didn’t matter because it was hard to draw attention away from the view to check the details of the house.

After going through the entire house they took their time wandering through the garden to the exit.

“It’s a nice home, but without the garden and terraces I think it would be a little boring, didn’t you think?”

Jack nodded, agreeing. “I wouldn’t want to be in charge of the garden. It must be a big job.”

“No, but they must employ gardeners, don’t you think? I can’t wait for Lucy to get back. I know you want to meet her, but wait until you see the garden she has at her house in Burlingame. It’s a beauty. I keep thinking I need to do something with my yard, and the one behind Gulliver’s, but so far neither have gotten to the top of my To Do list.”

“Don’t worry, someday it will. Meanwhile you can just enjoy looking at other people’s efforts and thinking about what you’ll do with yours.”

The next property was in town, closer to the Jardin. In many ways it reminded them of the Pruitt’s house they were leasing. This house was Spanish in style, built around a patio, but had a large artist’s studio built up over the rooms at the rear of the property. The entire house was obviously owned by artists, as it was filled with unique and lovely pieces of art, including paintings, collages, sculptures, pottery and metal work. It took a longer time to see the house as everyone wanted to see everything. It was like an exquisite art gallery, but the house still had the comfortable feeling of a well loved home.

On their way to the last property on tour that day Claire commented, “I can see why they only offer three houses at a time, can’t you? It’s exhausting, like going through an art museum, after a while it all runs together and you forget what you saw where.”

The last property was also in town, but in the opposite direction from the Jardin. Here the house wasn’t built around the patio, rather to the side of it. The patio was delightful, the house was spacious and beautifully decorated, and as soon as Claire saw the room at the front near the front door, she knew right away whose house this was.

“Jack, this must be Bill and Barry’s house. You remember we met them at Mama Mia’s that first night?” She whispered and then she saw Barry sitting in the shade at the back part of the patio.

“Hello, do you remember me?” He smiled up at her.

“Of course, we met at Mama Mia’s, didn’t we? I’m Claire and this is Jack.” Claire put out her hand to shake his.

“Yes, one of Teddy’s famous get-togethers. Are you enjoying your visit to San Miguel?”

Jack nodded. “We love it.”

“And this house tour is wonderful. It really gives you a feeling about how people live here.”

“Well, how the gringos and the rich people live anyway.” Barry said with a cynical smile, “You won’t find many locals’ houses on the tour.”

“You have a wonderful salon here. Jeff told me you still keep your business going.”

“Have to.” Barry nodded. “Got to maintain some normalcy. It’s what I do, you know. It’s part of who I am. I’m an artist too, but I use hair to express myself.” He handed them each a business card. “In case you need a trim while you’re here.”

Claire nodded, slipping the card in her tote bag. “I didn’t see you and Bill at Teddy’s Thursday night, and I thought everyone in town was there.”

Barry laughed. “We were there, but we didn’t get there until late; we know from experience that it will be an all night affair and Bill wears out if he starts too early.”

Claire smiled. “I guess we left before you came. We’re early-to-bed people.”

They chatted a bit more, and then, just before they turned to leave, Barry said, “Wasn’t that terrible, you know, what happened to Raphael?”

They both froze with surprise.

“What happened to Raphael?” Jack asked slowly.

Claire felt a sense of dread creeping over her.

“You didn’t hear? Oh my dears, it was so tragic. It was Friday I think. Yes, yes, I’m sure it was Friday. His car went off the road coming back from Guanajuato and just exploded. Whoosh!” He raised both his hands dramatically to illustrate his words.

Claire swayed; the shock was almost too much. Jack reached over to grab her arm and steady her, at the same time asking, “Raphael? What happened to Raphael?”

“Dead, of course. Very fast I’m sure. No time to suffer when that happens. I understand they identified him from the car. The numbers indented on the license plate allowed the authorities to identify the car. Raphael was apparently burned beyond recognition. Of course his family is devastated. He was so young. We will all miss him terribly.” Barry looked at them strangely. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it. Everyone has been talking about it. The Jardin has been full of all the horrid details since it happened. We are such a small town, you know.”

Jack shook his head. “No, we hadn’t heard. We’re shocked. He was such a careful driver. How could it have happened?”

Barry shook his head. “Who knows? There were no witnesses. Maybe a tire blew, or an animal crossed the road. It was an accident.”

Claire managed to say good-by, but she felt numb. She nodded at Jack’s suggestion they walk home, instead of taking the bus back. It was probably closer than going to the Biblioteca and then walking home from there. And when he guided her to a chair at a sidewalk café on the edge of the Jardin, she didn’t say anything. The waiter brought her iced tea and she still didn’t say anything.

“Is it starting?” Her voice was very low and Jack wasn’t sure he heard her correctly. He leaned forward. “What? Is what starting?”

“You know those terrifying situations I sometimes become embroiled in on my travel adventures?” Her face was pale with anxiety.

Jack reached over and clasped her hand. “Claire, it was an accident. It could have happened anywhere, to anyone. Let’s just be thankful Kaye suggested we ride home with her or we could have been toast, too.”

Claire shuddered. “How awful! I don’t even want to think about it.”

*  *  *

“Hillerman here.”

Kathleen smiled. “KC, Manny. I got your messages. What can I do for you?” She all but purred into the phone.

“KC, it’s about time. I’ve been trying to reach you. I thought you just disappeared.”

“No, sorry, I had to go out of town for a few days. Business, you know? But now I’m back and ready to deal. Are you ready?”

“Hell, that’s why I’ve been calling. My people tested the stuff you gave me and said it was adequate for our needs.”

Kathleen chuckled. “Adequate? How cute, Manny, but a bit of an understatement I would say, wouldn’t you?”

There was a pause on the line, and then Manny said, “All right, they said it was the best they had seen. They want more. I want to work out a deal with you to supply us with the stuff.”

“We can do that. How much are we talking about here?”

“I could use twenty kilos to start, then we can arrange regular shipments. Can you supply the twenty in a few days?”

“It will cost you. Forty per kilo.”

“Forty? That’s ridiculous. I can’t pay that and make money. This isn’t some designer drug you know. Prices have been declining steadily. Users won’t pay that kind of money. You’ll never make it with that price.”

Kathleen didn’t fall for his ploy, or respond to the whine in his voice. “That’s the price. This is an expensive process, but I know, and I know you know that the quality of this product is good enough for you to earn more than four times your cost by the time it gets on the street. And the prices may be down from the old days, but they’ve been holding steady for years. Quit your whining, Manny. I’m not falling for it.” Her voice was hard. She wasn’t giving him any room to bargain.

“I need to make sure the quality of the product delivered matches that of the sample,” He said firmly.

“Not possible. We’re not doing some hokey little exchange out of trunks of cars in back alleys. This is going to be handled like any business transaction. You wire the funds to a certain account in the Cayman Islands, and when I receive confirmation of the deposit, the product will be delivered to the site you stipulate.”

“What? Are you crazy? I’m not sending eight hundred big ones to some black hole in the banking industry without having the product in my hand. What do you think I am, a fool?”

“No, Manny,” Kathleen said slowly. “I think you’re a smart businessman. I think you understand our need to develop a relationship of trust and mutual benefit. So how about we do this in smaller pieces? Say five kilos? Then after that transaction and when you’ve determined you’re satisfied with the quality then we’ll do another five. And then another five and another until, maybe sometime in the near future, we can trust each other enough to ship the full amount on a regular schedule.”

“I don’t like it,” Manny growled into the phone. “I want to make the exchange when I know I have the product in my hand.”

“Manny, businessmen have to take risks. Are you a businessman or a two-bit hood? I am not sneaking around to make exchanges in dark alleys. I’m going to trust you to do your part.” Kathleen’s voice was carefully modulated, she sounded reasonable and professional.

“But you aren’t taking the chances,” Manny protested. “You aren’t delivering until you receive the money.”

“That’s the normal process, Manny. You don’t take delivery of a car you purchased until you pay for it. You trust the dealer to deliver the car you ordered, don’t you? This is the same kind of transaction.” She waited calmly; she knew Manny was desperate to do business with her. She knew from his many and increasingly frantic phone messages he was eager to strike a deal. And he was right; she wasn’t the one taking the risk because she didn’t trust him. She waited now to see if he would cave.

“All right. Five kilos and if that goes well we’ll arrange for the money for subsequent deliveries. Give me the information on the bank account so I can have the money wired.”

Kathleen smiled triumphantly. She loved it when she was right. She assured Manny she would fax him the wire instructions, and then they would arrange delivery anywhere in Houston Manny wanted the product delivered. She closed up her cell phone and then raised it in a stiff armed salute over her head as she shouted, “Yeah, one for our side.” After the whole fiasco with the missing frog and the bungled accident involving Jack and Claire, it felt good to have something go her way.

The thought of Jack and Claire depressed her again. Jack reminded her too much of Reynald Ramosa, her now dead husband. And thoughts of Reynald filled her with conflict, conflict she had never resolved.

*  *  *

Kathleen realized with alarm she had fallen too far behind the rest. She could no longer hear them moving through the thick jungle in front of her. She glanced around nervously and picked up her pace. She needed to catch up, she couldn’t afford to lag behind and not just because she was determined to compete on an equal footing with the other recruits in the group. No, it was because she didn’t dare become vulnerable by being caught alone in the jungle.

She didn’t know where Toro was, but she was sure he was too close for comfort. He was always too close to her, always watching, always looking for an opportunity to take advantage. She shuddered at the thought of being alone with him. She was tough; she could hold her own in almost any situation, but Toro scared her to death. It was something in his eyes while he watched her. Or maybe it was the way he licked his lips that made her shudder in disgust. She ducked under a vine stretching across the faint trail and looked back over her shoulder.

Her gun was snatched out of her hands before she turned her head back and there Toro stood, feet akimbo, planted solidly in the trail in front of her.

“Are you lost, little girl?” he crooned in a sickening voice. “Maybe I could help?” His cruel grin was anything but comforting.

She straightened up, her hand drifting toward the knife in her belt. “I don’t think I need help, thank you.” She said it softly as she calculated her chances of bolting.

“Don’t even think about running, little girl. I would just shoot you in the leg and then still have my fun with you.” The muzzle of the automatic rifle was now pointing directly at her.

“I don’t think you’ll shoot, Toro. The others aren’t that far ahead. The captain would be a little irritated with you for stopping to play when we’re on maneuvers; you know how seriously he takes these exercises.” She hoped the tremor in her voice wasn’t obvious.

“That prick is too serious,” Toro growled, his scowl deepening. “And by the time they got here it would be too late to save you. It would just be one more accident. Those things happen when you’re playing with guns, you know?”

She felt a shiver run down her spine, but refused to let him see her fear. “He’ll never buy it. I’m a paying guest. When I’m gone the money stops. He won’t like losing the income, especially because he won’t believe it was an accident.” She thought it sounded good, and she saw Toro was thinking about it, but then he grinned.

“Sorry, little girl, I’ll worry about that when the time comes. Right now I’m more interested in a little entertainment.”

He started advancing toward her, his rifle held menacingly in front of him. She backed away slowly, trying to remember every step of the path she had already passed. She didn’t think her skills at kick boxing and judo were going to help her. Toro was too aware of how good she was, he would be watching for her attack and so would counter her moves easily. She still had the knife attached to her belt and the little pistol she had tucked in the holster at her ankle. She would have to use those. She had no illusions about her fate if Toro overpowered her. He would have his fun and then kill her if she wasn’t already dead. Life, other than his own, had no value to Toro. She had realized immediately on meeting him, he was already planning on using her for his own pleasure, and he was a man used to getting what he wanted. He was a pig, she thought, she’d rather die than submit to him.

“Toro, drop that gun!” The words rang with authority.

Kathleen saw Toro’s eyes widen with surprise, and then turning his gun in the direction of the voice he squeezed the trigger. Too late, several rapid shots opened his chest. His eyes were still wide with disbelief, staring up through the top of the trees from where he lay.

Captain Ramosa strolled casually out of the jungle followed by several members of their unit. “This man was not serious about his studies and look what has happened to him. Let that be a lesson to all of you, we take our mission here seriously. We are not playing games. We do not dally in the jungle.” He motioned to two men. “Strip him of personal effects and his weapons. Toss him down that gully we passed back there, the animals will take care of him.”

He turned and looked at Kathleen. “Well, Sullivan, would you have taken him?”

“I would have, or died trying.” But she felt the bravo in her words rang a little hollow.

“Trying isn’t good enough. Before you graduate this course you will know without a doubt you can take any opponent, and you will never let yourself be tricked into being isolated and attacked.” He nodded curtly, pointed at her gun and stepped back on the trail in front of her.

She picked up her weapon and followed along with the other men. She already was feeling more confident, Captain Ramosa just had a way of making you feel you could do anything.

CHAPTER 9

“Whew, it’s hot this afternoon.” Jack sighed as he took out the key to unlock the blue door. “What do you want to do now?”

Claire looked at the cool shade in the patio and then answered, “Nothing, let’s do nothing. I need to do a little laundry and I have my book to read. Let’s just relax for a while and we can decide about dinner later.”

“Sounds good. I’m really not in the mood to be social. I’d just as soon finish my book and then we can return it to the Biblioteca tomorrow.”

They both came to an abrupt stop as they crossed the threshold into the kitchen. It was a total mess, cupboard doors were open and food stuffs were on the counter, some tipped over, some spilled on the floor. Claire, eyes wide, would have rushed into the house, except for Jack’s tight grip on her arm, pulling her gently, but firmly, back.

“Wait, they might still be here,” he whispered, motioning her to stay there. He crept further into the house, carefully scanning each wrecked room.

“Claire, come in here, please.” The words were calm, but Claire ran in response to the urgency she heard in his tone.

She found him bent over a crumpled form at the far side of the dining room. She whispered hoarsely, “Jack? Jack, is it Helen Marie?” Then approaching close enough to see that it was Helen Marie, she managed to choke out, “Is she..., is she...?” She couldn’t even say it, it was just too horrible.

“No, she’s alive, just unconscious. But I can’t tell how badly she’s hurt. Stay here with her while I call for an ambulance. Then I’ll check out the rest of the house.”

Claire crouched down beside Helen Marie, praying she would be all right. Who could have done this? Why? She didn’t know what to do for her. She wished she had more first aid skills. Then she remembered you were supposed to keep injured people warm to prevent shock, so she quickly dashed into the living room and found the folded blanket on the floor instead of its usual place on the back of the couch. Dimly she noted that room had also been trashed. The pillows were on the floor, the lamp turned over, books and papers strewn about. Who would have done this, she wondered. Why? She quickly took the blanket back and covered Helen Marie gently.

It seemed forever, but Claire knew it was only a few minutes before Jack was back at her side.

“Good, you covered her. The police and the ambulance should be here soon. The house is empty, but someone did a rather thorough job of messing it up. I can’t tell what, but I know there is stuff missing.”

He jumped at the loud pounding on the door and hurried out to open it. Claire gladly gave up her spot by Helen Marie’s side when the paramedics arrived. Soon they had carefully strapped her on the gurney and prepared to transport her. After a brief discussion with Jack and the policemen, who were now on the scene, it was decided that Claire would go with Helen Marie in the ambulance. Jack would stay and deal with the police. He promised to meet Claire at the hospital as soon as he was able. But before she left, Jack found the little piece of paper he had stuck in his wallet with Helen Marie’s name, address and phone number on it.

“You’ll probably need this for the hospital, but I’ll call her family Claire, as they may not speak English.” Jack quickly jotted the phone number on a piece of paper he retrieved from the floor before handing the information to Claire.

She nodded, taking the paper and following the medics, who were wheeling the gurney through the patio.

*  *  *

Claire had memorized every feature of the plain, utilitarian waiting room by the time Jack found her there. In answer to his question she nodded her head toward the three people hovering near the door, darting anxious eyes continuously toward the hall, hoping, no doubt, for the doctor to appear with news.

“They came about twenty minutes ago, and other than determining they are here for Helen Marie, I haven’t been able to communicate with them.”

Jack approached them and began talking in a soft voice. They responded gratefully. Jack beckoned her over. “Claire, this is Helene, Manual and Oscar. Oscar is Helen Marie’s husband, Manual is her brother and Helene is her niece.”

Claire smiled, shook hands and said to Jack, “Tell them how sorry we are about what happened to Helen Marie. Tell them they wheeled Helen Marie into surgery about an hour and a half ago. We can only wait and pray.”

Jack dutifully translated. The three responded with concerned expressions and nods, before sitting back down and resuming their wait.

Jack and Claire sat opposite Helen Marie’s family while Jack told Claire about the police search of the house.

“They think the people who did this either knocked on the gate and Helen Marie opened it, or overpowered her when she used her key to go in, because they didn’t find any signs of forced entry. The policeman in charge told me they have very little of this type of crime. He seemed very surprised by the whole incident. But I will say he acted very professional and was quite thorough.”

Claire shivered. “I suppose that should make us feel better? That it rarely happens? That poor Helen Marie was just in the way?”

Jack put his arm around her and gave her a comforting hug. “I don’t think that’s what he meant. He seemed certain it wasn’t locals. He will be questioning Helen Marie as soon as she’s able to talk to him, but he seems to think who ever was responsible for this was someone from out of town. He wanted to know if we were carrying a lot of jewelry or cash. And he questioned me closely about drugs.”

Claire looked at Jack surprised. “He thinks we’re in the drug business?”

Jack nodded, solemnly. “I suspect he does. He didn’t actually say that, but he inferred we must be involved with something worth their attention.”

“Oh Jack, I should have listened to you. You said traveling with me wasn’t safe. First Raphael is killed and now Helen Marie has been beaten, and we don’t even know how badly she has been hurt.”

“Whoa, now Claire. You’re taking on a lot of responsibility for what could just be random acts. What makes you think what happened to Raphael has anything to do with the break-in and damage done to Helen Marie?” Jack looked at her intently. “Aren’t you just being a little paranoid?”

Claire was embarrassed. “You don’t think so? Don’t you think they’re connected? I mean, both of these things happened so close together?”

“The only connection I see is that we know both of them and so we’re peripherally involved. We have no reason to think Raphael’s accident was anything but that.”

Claire nodded, thinking.

“And we don’t know that this break-in had anything to do with us, perhaps it was somebody following Helen Marie. Perhaps it was somebody who had targeted the Pruitts’ house. And we just happened to be staying there at the time.”

Claire sat up straighter. Just hearing Jack being sensible made her feel better.

“But, Claire, since we do know about your past experience in traveling, I agree it would be prudent for us to be vigilant to make sure neither of these occurrences have anything to do with us. That we didn’t cause them in some way.”

Before Claire could respond to that statement the doctor entered the waiting room, still clad in his scrubs. He went immediately to the family members, now eagerly on their feet, hoping to hear good news.

Claire stood there, watching people’s faces carefully for some hint of what the doctor’s words meant. Finally, the doctor shook hands all around and left. Jack turned to her and translated. “Helen Marie is out of surgery and he thinks she’ll make a full recovery in time. She had a broken rib which punctured her lung causing it to collapse. They had to put in a chest tube. She will be in pain as she has many bruises and what he called contusions. The men who did this to her were animals.” This last sentence Jack growled with feeling.

Jack turned back to Helen Marie’s family, and after several more spurts of Spanish they all nodded. Jack took Claire’s arm and gently guided her out of the room. “They will wait until she is conscious so they can talk to her and they will let us know how she is. Tomorrow, Helen Marie’s sister, cousin and niece will all be at the house to clean it and put everything back in order.” He shook his head at Claire’s alarmed look. “No, they insisted. It is her job, you see. They all want to protect it for her. They will clean up the mess, and one of them will be there each day to clean, just as Helen Marie did, until she is able to return to her job herself. And they apologized that this has happened to us in their town.”

“But, Jack, this isn’t their fault.”

“No, but they feel responsible. We’ll let them come and clean. It’s their job, their livelihood. And don’t worry, Claire, I’ll be sure to compensate them appropriately.”

Claire nodded, thinking what a nice person Jack was.

But when they returned to the Pruitts’ house and surveyed the mess once more, they wondered how they would ever make enough order to even sleep there that night. While they were standing there the phone rang.

Jack went to answer while Claire started picking up the clothes strewn around the bedroom.

“Claire, it’s Teddy. He’s heard about our mess. He and Jeff insist we stay the night with them. He said tomorrow Helen Marie’s relatives would get it all sorted out, but tonight was not the time for that. What do you think?”

“I say, thank you, Teddy. I was going to suggest a hotel, but this is a far better solution.”

Jack looked at her and seeing the frustration etched on her face, he nodded and returned to the living room where the one telephone was located.

It didn’t take long to search through the mess to gather a few necessities for the night, flag a taxi and arrive at the door of Teddy and Jeff’s house.

“Oh, my dears, what an awful experience you’ve had. Come in, come in. We’re going to have some Margaritas and nibbles, and then my cook will serve us a scrumptious dinner.”

Teddy grandly ushered them into the front room, Jeff hovering behind them. As soon as they were seated on one of the soft couches, Jeff offered them drinks he had poured and Teddy appeared with a plate of tiny tostados and crackers with cream cheese and pepper jelly spread on them. “These will tide us over until dinner.”

Jeff sat on a chair opposite them and Teddy perched on the foot stool, leaning forward eagerly. “Now tell us, how is Helen Marie? You know she’s been with the Pruitts for years. She’s almost like family. I just can’t imagine who would do something like this to her. Or why?” He turned around and looked at Jeff, a distressed expression on his face.

Jeff reached out a big hand and gently squeezed Teddy’s shoulder. That contact seemed to comfort Teddy and he turned back to Jack and Claire. “Tell us what the doctor said.”

So Jack repeated all he knew about Helen Marie’s condition and told Teddy about her relatives coming to the Pruitts’ in the morning to put the house back in order.

“Oh, Jack, Claire, I’m so sorry this happened. We really have very little crime in San Miguel. The police here are quite efficient, really. Did they take everything?” Teddy really did seem upset, as if he was responsible.

“Well, they took the television, and it looks like they took all the bits and pieces we’ve bought while we were here. And of course they took Claire’s jewelry, which included that set we bought from Isobelle.”

Claire just shook her head, she knew all her things were stolen, but she hadn’t asked. Still, it was hard hearing they were all gone. She thought again how lucky she was she didn’t bring her gold and diamond watch given her by Vantage Airlines. If she had, it would be gone.

“And it looks like they took my medicines.”

She looked up sharply at that. “Oh, no. Not your medicine. You still have a few days left on the prescription from Dr. MacIntyre.”

Jack reached over and patted her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll call him in the morning and get the correct name and spelling. I’m sure I can buy enough pills here locally to complete the sequence. And I’m sure it won’t matter if I take it later in the day instead of first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, my yes, there’s a wonderful little pharmacy across from the Bellas Artes that everyone uses. I’m sure they can take care of you,” Teddy told them.

“And of course all my pain pills are gone, but I haven’t used any since I’ve been here,” Jack explained. “Margaritas and aspirins seem to be working fine.”

That reminded them of the frosty Margaritas that Teddy had made. Claire helped herself to one of the little tostados, surprised at how good it was. She was starved and no wonder, she realized, as she took one of the crackers. With all that had happened since breakfast, they had forgotten to eat. Jack, who always seemed to be starving these days, filled a napkin with several of each.

Teddy took the hint and went to the kitchen to check on dinner. It wasn’t until they finished the delicious meal of chicken enchiladas, salad and vegetables with hot corn bread that Jeff told them Raphael’s funeral would be Tuesday morning.

Teddy rushed into the conversation. “Kaye told us you were with Raphael the day of his accident and only escaped being in the car with him because you stayed to hear the Mondot sisters perform. I just about fainted when I heard that. To think I recommended him as a driver and I could have sent you to your death.” He clasped his heart dramatically. “My dears, thank God you ran into Kaye that day.”

Jack shook his head. “Who knew? And who’s to say if we hadn’t dismissed Raphael early and he stayed to drive us home, he wouldn’t be here today? Maybe it was because we did, that he died.”

Claire was alarmed. “Jack, Jack, do you think that’s true?”

“No, Claire,” he said gently, “what I really think is none of us ever knows what impact we have on others’ lives. We can only do what we think is right for us and hope we don’t cause damage inadvertently.”

She nodded numbly, processing in her head what Jack said.

“We can’t control the universe. We don’t know what other factors were involved with Raphael’s accident. But Teddy, we do know he was a very good and careful driver. That was obvious. And he gave us a wonderful tour of Delores Hidalgo and then Guanajuato. Didn’t he, Claire?”

“Yes, and he was very nice. And he took us to the most wonderful pottery. I bought a lot of serving pieces to take home with us...” her face fell. “Oh, dear, they’re all gone. Most of them were still in Raphael’s trunk. He was going to drop them off at our place the next morning. And the little piece I had with me was probably stolen when the house was robbed.” All of a sudden the loss hit her. “And Raphael is dead!”

The table fell quiet as they all realized how quickly things changed forever.

“We’d like to go to the funeral. Do you think we could?” Claire asked their hosts.

“Sure, it’s a funeral mass at the Church of San Francisco on the corner of Calle San Francisco and Calle Juarez. I believe it’s going to start at eleven, right Teddy?” Jeff looked to Teddy for confirmation. “We’ll be there as will most of the people you met at that dinner at Mama Mia’s and our party. Everyone knew and liked Raphael. He is going to be sorely missed here. And his family, of course, is devastated. Raphael was their main source of income.

“In fact, Teddy had been collecting money from our friends to help the family over this initial period of adjustment. And Steve Carter, you remember Kaye’s husband, has volunteered to oversee the insurance claim so the insurance company pays the family the correct amount. Sometimes big business doesn’t act like they have a heart.”

Jack nodded. “Well, we’ll be at the funeral, and of course we’ll want to contribute to the fund you’re collecting. The pottery we lost can easily be replaced, but Raphael is not replaceable. It was a tragic accident.”

“Well, enough of that for now, or we’ll all start crying. Let’s have our coffee in the den. What about watching a film?” Teddy stood up and waited for Claire to rise. “Do you like Elvis Presley? Jeff and I love his old movies and watch them frequently. We have a favorite called Follow That Dream. Have you ever seen it?”

Claire shook her head.

“Well, you must see it. I’m not surprised you haven’t seen it. I think he made it just about the time you were born.” Teddy looked at her appraisingly. “Nineteen, sixty-two?” He nodded at her surprised look. “I thought so. That’s when Jeff was born. I admit I remember him. I was a fan, albeit a young fan. I was devastated when he died. We have all his movies, but this one is the best. It’s funny, and he actually does good acting in it. Let’s put it on and laugh a little. You probably need it after the day you’ve had.”

They all found places on the comfortable couches, Teddy’s cook brought in a tray with coffee and cups and then they could hear her clearing the table and finishing in the kitchen.

While Teddy was preparing to play the DVD, Jeff nodded toward the kitchen. “I don’t know how we’d survive if something happened to Tia. She’s our cook, housekeeper and good conscience, kind of like our own Jiminy Cricket. She’s the one who told us about Helen Marie. The phone was ringing off the hook here for the better part of the afternoon after you found her. Every cook, housekeeper or yard person working in San Miguel must have known within minutes of the police arriving at your house.” He shook his head. “Nothing is secret. But then you know they all help each other. At our party the other night half of the people who work in houses here in San Miguel were here working under Tia’s direction that night, in addition to those who worked for the catering company. And frequently when we go to dinner at someone’s house, we find Tia working there on her day off. It’s the way things work here.”

Teddy finished preparing the movie, poured the coffee and passed the cups around and then clicked the remote and they all settled back to watch.

The movie was entertaining and fun. Claire found herself relaxing, laughing along with the boys as the story unfolded. When it ended and Teddy suggested an Elvis marathon, Claire was grateful that Jack shook his head firmly.

“You two have fun. Claire and I are off to bed. We’ve had a long day and I suspect tomorrow will not be any easier.”

Claire got up, following Jack’s lead, and impulsively kissed Teddy and Jeff’s cheeks good night. “Thank you both for rescuing us as well as for being such pleasant company. And I loved that movie. I can’t believe I’ve never seen it before.”

Teddy smiled. “Well, don’t think his other movies are as good, but the music is wonderful in all of them, and the man is divine, always. I hope you sleep well. I may not see you in the morning as I usually sleep in, but Jeff is up with the chickens; his art, you know. And help yourselves to anything you want in the kitchen. Tia doesn’t come in until noon, so we have to fend for ourselves until then.” He looked at them anxiously, then seeing their nods, he relaxed again. “Nighty-night, we enjoyed having you. See you tomorrow, or if not, Tuesday for sure. And remember if your house doesn’t get put back together to your satisfaction tomorrow, just come back here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Right Jeff?”

Jeff nodded, smiled, and turned back to the DVD he was putting in the player.

CHAPTER 10

Kathleen didn’t even glance at the colorful pottery in the showroom as she followed her uncle and Miguel, the owner of the pottery, into the back. She saw him knock on the locked door off the packing room and wait impatiently for someone to let them in. Then they went through the door, which was carefully locked behind them.

Good, she thought, they are paying attention to security, even though it was the old story of the barn door. Now, walking through the laboratory she looked around carefully, making sure it was still set up just the way she had organized it originally. She knew how easy it was for people working in an environment to make little adjustments which they thought would make things easier, or faster or better, but she had designed the optimum set up and wanted it to remain the way she designed it. She was satisfied with what she saw and so followed the men into the room off the laboratory they used for meetings and planning.

She nodded to Ben and Ricky, sitting at the table. She noticed Tony was not present and assumed Ben had taken care of him as her uncle had instructed. The three others at the table had to be the men sent from Mexico City. She pulled out a chair, eager to hear their story. She and her uncle had both heard about the unfortunate break-in at the Pruitts’ house the day before, as had most of the expatriates in town.

“Did you get it?” Her uncle asked before any pleasantries were exchanged. One of the men nodded, and reached down beside him and brought up a plastic bag and put in on the table in front of him. He opened it and revealed the missing frog.

“Good. That’s good. Anything else interesting?” He nodded his head at Ben who took the frog and carried it out of the room, apparently to put it with the others waiting to be shipped.

The man who had placed the frog on the table seemed to be the leader and he motioned to his companions. One got up and went to a table in the corner returning with a box. He set the box on the table and proceeded to take items out and lay them on the table. There was a nice mirror inlaid in hammered metals, a few small pieces of decorative pottery, some note paper, a pair of silver salt and pepper shakers, and a collection of earrings, bracelets, and necklaces, including the necklace and earring set that had obviously been made by Isobelle.

“That’s it except for the television, automatic coffee pot and a blender. Not much else worth the effort to take.

“Do you want any of it?” Her uncle asked looking at Kathleen.

Kathleen looked at the array with distaste, none of the jewelry was interesting except the set Isobelle made, but those were too noticeable. She didn’t dare take it. Too many people in town had seen Claire wear it at Teddy’s party. “No.” she waved her hand, dismissing it. “Get rid of it. We don’t want anyone to find it.”

“Well,” her uncle said, “I’ll send the mirror and the jewelry in the shipment to Houston. George will find a use for it. Take the appliances with you back to Mexico City,” He told the man in charge.

Two of the men got up and headed out, leaving the third sitting at the table.

“This is Eduardo. He will be staying to work with Ben and Ricky. Tony is gone, and now we’re short a man. Ben, see that Eduardo learns the process here. Kathleen has just arranged for the first delivery, and we’ll need to step up production in order to supply our new client.” The men at the table nodded soberly, their eyes swiveling to Kathleen.

“We have decided to delay the shipment that was to leave today in order to fill the truck. We will be leaving on Friday instead. So we will need to work overtime this week to process enough, understand?”

They nodded. “Well, let’s get to it then.” Kathleen didn’t clap her hands, but her words had that effect on the men. They hastened out of the room leaving only her, her uncle and Miguel.

*  *  *

“Good morning, Jeff.”

They found him on the terrace off the kitchen having coffee and fruit, working on something in a sketchbook.

“How are you today? Did you sleep well?” He indicated the empty chairs, so Jack and Claire sat.

“Coffee?” Seeing their nods he poured them cups of the rich aromatic brew from the thermos on the table. “There are fruits and rolls in the kitchen if you like, or you’re welcome to cook breakfast, if you prefer. I’m sure there are lots of fixings in the refrigerator.”

“Thanks, but we’re going to our favorite breakfast place on the Jardin before meeting the cleaning people at the house. Coffee is just what we need to get us going,” Jack said taking a big swallow of scalding coffee.

“We slept very well. It’s a very comfortable room. You and Teddy were so nice to have us. It was a nice evening. Somehow the evening muted the horror of seeing that trashed house and finding poor Helen Marie all battered. It’s amazing the healing power of good friends and laughter, don’t you think?” Claire smiled her thanks.

“We were happy to have you. Teddy was so upset when he heard about your housekeeper being hurt and the house being vandalized, he just had to do something. This made him feel good, and we enjoyed your company.”

They finished their coffee and graciously refused Jeff’s offer to call a cab. “We’d like the walk. It’s a beautiful morning and it’s all downhill.” They left carrying their few belongings in the straw tote bag Claire hooked over her shoulder and headed downhill toward the Jardin.

Later, over breakfast Jack said, “I think we need to make a list of what was stolen and then before we leave we should try to replace it all. Why should we let those thieves rob us of having souvenirs of our first vacation together?”

Claire nodded thoughtfully. “I’d like to go back to that pottery because those pieces we bought were perfect for my mother and much better than anything else we’ve seen. Could we rent a car or find someone to hire?”

“Why not? Jerry Farnsworth, you remember the couple we met Saturday night? He gave me the name and number of a guy they used for touring while they were here. He said he was very reasonable and good. I could give him a call. When should we go?”

Claire shrugged. “We don’t need a whole day, maybe Tuesday afternoon? Or Wednesday? But since the funeral is Tuesday I think it would be good to have something pleasant to do afterwards to neutralize the depression we’ll be feeling. What do you think?”

Jack nodded his agreement before turning back to the stack of blueberry pancakes he was working on.

“What about your jewelry? Should we look for replacements?”

Claire shook her head. “No, I lost some of my special pieces, but I’ll just replace them as I find things I like. My favorite hoop earrings are gone. It will take a while to find something to replace them.”

Then she frowned. “Jack, let’s not forget we need to get some more pills for you. Do you want to get more pain pills just in case?”

“No, I’m hoping I’m past the need for them. I’ll call Dr. MacIntyre when we get back to the house, and then we can try that pharmacy Teddy recommended.”

*  *  *

“The funds have been wired. Where and when will the product be delivered?” Phil asked, approaching the table where Manny was lunching on the terrace.

“Good. I told her to deliver it directly to Dr. Nose. We should be getting the goods no later than tomorrow. We’ll see how reliable this KC is.” He saw the skepticism on Phil’s face. “What? You think I’ve lost my marbles?” He laughed. “This KC does have the best product we’ve seen in a long time, so I’m just going along with her for a while. But don’t worry, Phil, I have a plan.”

Phil looked relieved.

“Yes, I’m going to have the delivery guy followed and we’ll find out where he picks up the package. I want to know exactly where she’s processing this stuff. I need to know how she is processing it, where she’s getting her supply from and how she’s getting it into Houston. I’m going to find out about her business. Then I’ll decide if and when I’ll take it over.”

Phil grinned. This was the Manny he admired. This was the guy who was at the top of the heap. This was just the kind of stunt that got him there. Then Phil sobered, remembering. “Don’t forget the last time you tried to follow her.”

Manny glared at him. “Do you take me for a fool? Jerry was too full of himself. He shoulda’ been watching his back. And if he didn’t, then Pancho or Willie shoulda’.” Manny was still upset about that loss; it showed clearly in his lapse back into the language of the streets when he talked about Jerry. “No, this KC is smart, so I’ve decided to go upscale to track her. We’ll use one of those tracking gizmos. Slap it on the delivery van and then follow the signal, simple, clean and accurate. About time we upgraded, you think?”

Manny was obviously pleased with himself and Phil agreed it was a much better solution than a couple of guys in a car trying to track a van through Houston’s heavy traffic. Phil decided he could dare to offer one more cautionary word. “You don’t think that you want to just use her to supply us? You know, as an outsourced supplier?”

“Are you nuts? Do you know how much she’s charging us? Hell no! Whatever she’s doing, we can do it cheaper and keep all the profits. Why should she get rich on our labor? We own the distribution channels; we should get all the profits.” Manny, finished with his lunch, put his napkin on the table and got up, heading for his office. “Come on in, Phil. I want to go over last week’s sales figures. I noticed something in the southeast section I wanted to talk to you about.”

*  *  *

Claire stood on the sidewalk, outside the small pharmacy, watching the fruit lady set up her stand across the street. It took a lot of work, she noticed. And that wasn’t including the time and effort it must take the vendor to prepare her cart and stock it with fruit before she even could move it to her corner. But people were stopping to buy before she had even finished setting up. Claire hoped she was able to make a satisfactory living from her efforts. Of course, being a business woman herself, she was always very aware of the need to make a profit.

The little pharmacy, for instance, they had passed it several time during their stay here in San Miguel and never given it a second glance. Now, waiting for Jack to finish, she had plenty of time to study it. It stretched two shop lengths along Canal from the corner on Hernandez Macias, but it didn’t appear to be very deep. The two double doors were open to the street and each had two steps outside the threshold on the sidewalk itself. Inside, there was only a few feet of space for the customers to stand at the ell-shaped counter, serviced by several white-coat clad pharmacists. The counter was packed with a variety of products found in most drug stores, as was the wall behind the counters. One could only imagine what the back room looked like, jammed with medicines, beauty and health aids, floor-to-ceiling. On the one wall with no counter there were three wooden chairs in front of a wall covered with community notices and advertisements. One of the chairs was occupied now with a very old looking Indian woman. Her feet were dusty and gnarled in her sandals, her legs bowed, either from years of walking long miles or from rickets when she was a child. Her lined face was pleasant, and she exchanged comments with one of the ladies behind the counter, so she was obviously known to them. Claire thought she might be waiting for an order, but then it occurred to her she might only be taking a rest on her way to somewhere else.

Claire had started out waiting inside with Jack and while he waited his turn, she had scanned the wall of notices. But then she realized she was taking up space which would be appreciated by the numerous customers coming in, so she had moved outside. Jack was talking to Chelo, the owner Teddy told them about. She spoke English, but she and Jack were now conversing in Spanish. She had operated this pharmacy for years and, judging by the people Claire saw streaming through the doors, she was apparently a fixture in town. And, Claire concluded, she must be successful in spite of the appearance of the store, because she was doing a brisk business.

Chelo disappeared behind the wall and Jack turned, smiled at Claire and signaled he was almost done.

“Okay, all set.” Jack shook the little bottle before putting it in his pocket. “Sorry it took so long.”

Claire shrugged. “We’re on vacation, no hurry, remember? Anyway it was interesting watching the people. Do we need to go get a cup of coffee at the Bellas Artes so you can take today’s pill?”

“No, I swallowed it dry.”

Claire made a face. “I don’t know how you do that. I’d choke. In fact, just the thought makes my throat close up.”

“It’s not a problem. I find it’s easier to take pills when I’m traveling if I don’t have to find something to wash it down.” He reached out for her hand. “Now, what say we go over to Isobelle’s and look for a replacement for the necklace and earrings you lost?”

“Oh, Jack. That’s very nice, but we don’t need to do that. They’re gone. I wore them and enjoyed them, but it was so expensive...” Claire started.

Jack shook his head, pulling her toward the street. “No you don’t. That was my gift to you and I won’t be cheated. We’re going to find a replacement, no argument.”

Isobelle looked up from the customers she was helping when they entered her shop and nodded. Jack and Claire took their time looking at the pieces displayed.

“Look, Claire, here is a piece similar to the one you had.” Jack pointed to a lovely necklace in silver set with amber and black onyx stones.

Claire’s eye was caught by a silver set with carnelian stones. It was quite unusual and very appealing.

“Hello, you two. I heard about your disaster. I hope your housekeeper will be all right?” Isobelle was concerned. Everyone obviously knew of their loss.

“She was pretty banged up. The doctors had to put in a chest tube because of a fractured rib and punctured lung, so she’s in a lot of pain. But they say she will recover completely, and her family is over at the Pruitts’ now putting everything back together.”

Claire nodded. “It’s wonderful how they just take it on themselves to help her and protect her job. I know that’s what family is all about, but you don’t always see it happening, do you?”

Isobelle, nodded. “But she’s worked for the Pruitts’ since they built the house. She probably feels an ownership. And maybe she feels responsible. I understand she opened the door to them.”

“But that would happen to anyone. Someone knocks and you open the door. You don’t expect someone to push in and beat you. I talked to her brother and he’s buying a peek hole for the door. I told him I would pay for it if he would install it. I don’t think Helen Marie will need to worry about this happening a second time.”

“Jack, that was sweet of you. I didn’t know you did that.” Claire was surprised. Jack was really very thoughtful.

Isobelle nodded her agreement. “We are very spoiled in this town. We have so little crime, we’ve become complacent. Sometimes it takes a tragedy like this to wake us up. We all need to be careful.”

Then assuming her shopkeepers’ role, “Did you want to look at that piece? It’s unusual, isn’t it?” She unlocked the showcase and spread the carnelian and silver necklace out for Claire to look at.

“I don’t know, I love them both. I just can’t decide.” Claire was in a quandary. The last time she was looking for something specific to wear with her outfit she was wearing to Teddy’s party. But now she was tempted by this other piece.

“I think you should consider getting both. They are stunning, why not?”

Claire looked at him. “Just because I can’t make up my mind? Then why not three or four? You’re very generous, but slightly foolish,” Claire chided him gently.

“Wait just a moment. I have something in the back I just finished. Perhaps you’d like to consider it.” Isobelle disappeared and returned with a piece with a totally different look. This one was also in silver, but was set with milky white stones which sometimes reflected the light in different colors.

”Oh, this is beautiful.” Claire picked it up and draped it around her neck. “Are they opals?”

“No, actually they’re called moonstones. I found these which all reflect the light and are the same color. I designed the piece around the stones. I have earrings to match if you want to see them.”

Claire nodded, admiring the view in the mirror of the necklace around her neck.

When Isobelle returned with the earrings Claire nodded her head. “I love them. They’re so different and so versatile. You are a wonderful artist Isobelle. I will tell everyone about you.”

Then she reminded Jack, “You wanted to get the carnelian set for Karen, didn’t you? Now’s the time.”

Jack nodded. “Right, we’ll take both sets.”

When Isobelle charged him only fifty percent of the marked prices he protested.

“No, I insist. You already spent enough in my store. It wasn’t your fault some swine stole your jewelry. It’s the least I can do to help soften your experience in San Miguel.”

“But it wasn’t you fault either, Isobelle. Why should you take a hit?” Jack was uncomfortable.

“Trust me, even with fifty percent I am making something besides my costs. Now don’t tell anybody or they will all want discounts.” She laughed as she carefully placed each set in a velvet box, wrapped them in tissue and placed them in a small bag.

Claire put the bag carefully in her tote bag. “Thank you, Isobelle. You are very kind in addition to be being very talented.”

“Okay, we’re off,” Jack said opening the door and waving one last time to Isobelle. They were all delighted with the transaction they had just completed.

CHAPTER 11

Kathleen stepped over the ancient wood threshold and into the dark cool interior. She slipped into a wood pew, dark with age, near the back of the church and studied the mourners already seated towards the front. She saw her uncle with a group of his friends and various members of the expatriate community scattered in clumps throughout the pews which were filling rapidly with locals and family members. The front two pews remained empty waiting for the immediate family to arrive and precede the casket down the aisle. Despite the number of people present, the church was silent, heavy with the feeling of sadness.

The altar boys came out on the alter carrying their tapers and lit the profusion of candles. Finally there was a rustling sound and the family was escorted down the center aisle and ushered carefully into the pews reserved for them. A woman, who was most likely Raphael’s mother, was weeping, half supported by a young man, who bore a remarkable resemblance to Raphael, and by another woman, who might have been her sister. When they were seated, the organ music filled the church with the notes of a somber dirge and the procession started up the church aisle from the vestibule with the altar boys leading. The first one carried a crucifix on a tall gold pole. The priest clad in ornate white vestments, swinging the smoking incense burner hanging from chains in front of him and chanting prayers, followed. Immediately behind him came eight men, dressed in black suits, a casket covered with flowers resting on their shoulders. When the procession reached the front of the church, the altar boys and priest ascended to the altar and another man discreetly placed a stand to hold the casket on the floor just in front of the steps up to the altar.

The entire congregation held their breath as they watched the men grab the casket handles, slide it off their shoulders and lower it onto the stand without dropping it.

Now the organ was silent, the priest turned to the congregation, spread his hands and started praying. The funeral mass had begun.

Kathleen felt no connection to this ceremony. She knew Raphael, even liked him, but felt no involvement in or responsibility for his death. It was just one of those things that happened. She only came because her absence might have been noticed. Her uncle was here, as were the others in the community, who knew Raphael and used his services. Many of them were visibly grieving his premature passing. She was content to sit in the back, letting the prayers and ritual flow past her as she watched the other attendees and let her mind roam. When the congregation stood up, she had a momentary view of Jack and Claire sitting in a pew toward the front of the church. She felt her lip curl in derision as she watched Jack lean solicitously over Claire, almost as if he was protecting her from the sadness hovering over them all.

Kathleen had to control herself; she wanted to snort with disgust at this display of affection. But she couldn’t prevent a wave of sadness from sweeping over her. Not sadness at the loss of Raphael, so young, so optimistic about his life. No, it was a sadness brought on from the memory of the love she had lost.

*  *  *

“Enough!”

Her wrist was caught in a vise and arms wrapped around her middle pulling her off him.

“I said enough!”

This time the words penetrated the fog in her head and she was aware of the taste of blood in her mouth, the grit in her throat, and the perspiration running down her face, burning her eyes, causing her vision to blur. She felt her toes touch the dirt and she set her feet, balancing, trying to shake off the hands which still held her. The man on the ground in front of her was bleeding copiously; as he scrabbled away on his back, frantically trying to distance himself from her. His eyes reflected his fear.

She stood there heaving as she tried to get her breath. She cleared her throat and then spit off to the side. She glanced down at the knife in her hand, then shrugged casually and inserted it in the leather sheath attached to her belt.

Three roughly dressed men dashed in and scooped up the wounded man, dragging him away, presumably to get medical attention. She looked around her and saw the members of her unit laughing and congratulating each other. She saw two of them pocketing money from some of the other on-lookers so she knew they had bet on the outcome of the fight. That disgusted her. She had tried to kill him; she would have if she hadn’t been pulled off, and they were treating it like a sport. She knew it could have gone the other way. For a moment she wondered if her comrades would have kept her opponent from killing her if she had given him the chance to do so. And then she saw Reynald. He looked at her appraisingly, nodded his approval and turned to leave. The hands restraining her dropped away and she followed. Suddenly she felt good. She knew she would have plenty of aches and pains later, but just now she felt great.

Reynald held the door to the cab of the truck for her, so she scrambled in. The other men clamored over the tailgate into the back and soon they were heading out of town, toward their camp.

“So, you have learned your lessons well.” Reynald’s voice was low, meant only for her ears. “No more do you have to worry about being isolated and overcome by a stronger opponent, heh?”

She nodded, looking at him appraisingly. She wondered if he had engineered that confrontation between her and the brute in town. Suddenly she realized the incident was most likely his final exam, delivered to her specifically, so he could be assured she had learned everything he had taught her over the past several months. Since that incident in the jungle with Toro, Reynald had been relentless in his attention to her training. It was, as if, having almost lost her, he was determined to teach her how to excel in this world of war. Sometimes she felt as if she hated him. Sometimes, late at night, with tears of exhaustion flowing, she told herself she didn’t care, she wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. But she did.

Slowly she felt her strength increase; she learned to exercise cunning when her strength put her at a disadvantage; her skills with her weapons were honed until the other men in her unit started treating her with respect, as if they were nervous around her. But most important, she realized she had changed. She had become a killer. One day she realized she no longer felt any hesitancy to curb her violence. In fact when the man grabbed her, she felt excitement at the knowledge she intended to kill him.

She glanced over at Reynald, and he took his attention from the road long enough to smile at her with approval.

She was right! It had been a test and she suspected they were all in on it. She smiled to herself with satisfaction.

“Are you hurt?” His gruff words still conveyed concern.

She shook her head. “I was going to kill him. If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have.”

He nodded. “I know. That’s why I stopped you. It would have been too complicated. Blood, injury, bruises, no one cares. It’s just the end of a night of too much drinking. But a body? Ah, that causes problems. Questions have to be asked. Forms have to be filled out. It was best to stop it.”

“And if I had been losing? Would you have stopped it then?”

“Not much chance of that. I know you. I see how you’ve changed. No, that pig was stupid. He didn’t have a chance. If he had more brains in that thick head he would have noticed the respect your colleagues accorded you. He would have realized how dangerous it was to try to have his way with you. You are a beautiful woman Kathleen, but I’m afraid there is a dangerous aura hovering about you. You will find less and less that men will try to force their will on you. They will just understand it will be too dangerous.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Yes, I’m afraid that in order for you to be successful, you are now going to have to work at disguising your competence to fool your opponents. That will be the next skill for you to master. Remember what I say.” This time his smile was wide, and his face reflected his admiration.

When they rolled into camp and he cut the motor, he said, “Pack up your gear, Kathleen. You’ll be moving in with me. Your stint as a recruit is over. Now we will work on subtler skills.”

She felt a shiver go all the way to her toes, and she eagerly headed for the tent she shared with the other men in her unit. She packed up her gear silently; no one asked where she was going.

She walked across the dirt parade grounds and up the wooden stairs into the hut which belonged to Captain Ramosa. He looked up from the papers he was reading at his desk and nodded to the bedroom. She put down her things, noticing the neat, large size bed and went into the bathroom. She went immediately to the large claw foot tub and turned on the faucets. She hadn’t had the luxury of a bath for months. She was going to enjoy this perk immediately.

When she finally emerged, clad in a thick towel, she found Reynald was waiting for her.

*  *  *

The priest somberly giving the eulogy in Spanish got Kathleen’s attention and she listened a moment. She didn’t believe any of what he was saying, but she supposed his words of hope, of promise of a better life for Raphael, might be comforting to his family, who were now left behind to struggle without the income Raphael brought to the family. She settled back thinking instead of that time she spent with Reynald. Now she realized in spite of the hardships of the jungle, the difficulty in training, that had been the happiest time of her life since her family had been destroyed.

Reynald began her real training that day he accepted her into his hut and his bed. He taught her all he knew about planning and executing terrorist attacks. He took her with him on missions so she actually was able to plan, execute and then critique the jobs they took for hire. Reynald was for hire; he was expensive and he was good. And it didn’t matter to Reynald what politics were involved. They attacked a newspaper whose editorials were annoying the government of a small country, killing the publisher and destroying the presses. They were hired by a large United States corporation, desperate to get their people back safely, to liberate hostages held deep in the jungle by a drug lord. They assassinated an up and coming dictator before he could launch his coup to take control of a Central American country. They destroyed a factory in the industrial section of Caracas at the request of the company’s struggling competitor. And the entire time Reynald was honing her skill as a terrorist, he was teaching her about the pleasures of her body. Together in their hut, he wooed her. He loved her and led her to expect it would continue.

*  *  *

Claire was struggling to pay attention, but the Spanish words the priest droned on meant nothing to her. She really couldn’t tell if he was talking in Spanish or Latin. Finally, the priest was finished, and Steve Carter went up to the pulpit to say a few words in English on behalf of Raphael’s English speaking friends. Steve did an excellent job of portraying how Raphael was regarded by the members of the community and how much he would be missed. Then the rituals of the mass began again, and she was left to her thoughts.

And what she was thinking was how capricious and fickle life was. It scared her to think she and Jack could have been in the car with Raphael. In fact, they would have been if Kaye hadn’t invited them to the Mondot sisters’ concert. They would never know if Raphael had waited for them and driven them back to San Miguel, whether or not he would be alive today. Or, would all three of them be dead?

She wondered if fate could ever be fooled. Were she and Jack spared only because it wasn’t their time? Was that why they weren’t in the car; why they escaped death? She shook her head. It was all too much. She told herself the one thing she should learn from this was she needed to live her life as best she could because she didn’t know how long she had to live. That was a scary thought and it sent chills up her spine.

The mass was over and Claire stood with the others as the pallbearers picked up the casket, and burdened again, trudged back down the aisle, followed by the priest, altar boys and family. Then the other people in the pews started spilling out into the aisle, filing quietly out of the church.

“Claire, Jack, it was good of you come,” Steve Carter said, nodding somberly. “Will you be going out to the cemetery?”

Jack shook Steve’s hand at the same time his head shook no. “We’re not planning on it.”

Kaye leaned around her husband. “I’m so glad you two stayed to see the concert with me. I shudder when I think it could have been three in that car instead of only poor Raphael.”

They nodded, watching the coffin being loaded in the hearse.

Teddy and Jeff joined them. Teddy hugged Claire, his eyes still wet from the tears he shed. “It was so sad. I can’t believe he’s gone. Steve, it was all I could do not to burst out in sobs at your words. You did a wonderful job. Somehow you said everything I felt.”

Steve just gave a brief nod of acknowledgement then put out his hand for Kaye. “We need to leave now. We’re going to the cemetery and then to the house. See you all soon.”

“You’re not going to the cemetery?” Claire asked Teddy.

He shook his head. “Can’t. I’m leaving for Boston in a couple of hours.” He smiled, appearing a little embarrassed. “Once or twice a year I go home to meet with the trustees, see my aunt, and take care of some legal details. This is one of those times. It’s annoying as hell, but ensures that I can continue living my carefree life down here, so I guess it’s worth it.”

Jeff nodded. “And you’ll only be gone a week,” he said to Teddy with encouragement. Then he looked at Claire and Jack. “It will still be winter there, so he’ll really appreciate our climate when he returns.” He grinned evilly. “March, with the dirty snow, ice and cold winds, is not the best time to visit Boston.”

Teddy shuddered as if a cold wind just struck him.

“Oh, but then we won’t see you again before we leave, will we? Teddy, thank you so much for taking us under your wing. You made our stay here so much more enjoyable than we anticipated. And we really appreciated your hospitality, both at the party and Sunday night when we really needed friends.”

“We were happy to do it, Claire. And if Vern and Mike couldn’t come, they sent wonderful replacements, and I’ll tell them in my next e-mail. And don’t forget, Jeff will still be here, and he’d be happy to host you again if you need it or just want company.”

Jeff nodded.

“I think we’re set now,” Jack said. “The Pruitts’ property agent came by this morning and brought us a coffee pot and a new blender. He said he would be bringing a new television on Friday, but thought we might need the two appliances before then. Thank God. I don’t know which one is more important to us, our morning coffee or our afternoon Margaritas.”

They all laughed a bit and watched the people in front of the church as they started getting into cars which lined up behind the hearse. After the cars were filled with mourners, several trucks pulled up and people climbed into the truck beds until all that wanted to go were accommodated. Then, one by one, the vehicles slowly pulled out onto the street to follow Raphael’s body.

The bells started pealing, and before the echoes started bouncing back, the other church bells joined in. Here on the church steps the bells seemed even louder and more somber.

When everyone had gone, Jack and Claire walked down the street, hands clutched tightly, toward the Biblioteca. They only had about an hour before it closed for siesta, but they thought that was enough time for Jack to return his book, select another and for Claire to check to make sure there were no urgent e-mails for her from Mrs. B at her bookshop. When they were done they agreed to have a quick lunch in the library café before meeting their driver, who was to take them to the pottery to replace the pieces they had bought last Friday.

*  *  *

“How ya’ doing, Manny?” the Mayor gave his shoulder a friendly slap as he passed.

Manny smiled hugely, conscious that the group around him noticed the Mayor’s greeting. He nodded encouragingly to the man who was telling a story, urging him to get to the punch line and then laughed uproariously with the others when he did. He waved to a couple he knew across the room and got ready to move to another group, he was making the most of this party to raise money for the Houston Symphony. He donated generously to the arts, as he had learned it got him entry to the society parties and people he wanted to associate with. And when he was included in one of these gatherings, he made the most of his time to mingle with the other patrons and meet people who were part of the movers and shakers of the city. Just as he excused himself to move on he caught a glimpse of Phil near the door and changed direction.

“What’s happening?” He knew it was important or Phil wouldn’t have risked disturbing him. They walked out into the hotel vestibule where it was quieter and more private.

“I thought you needed to know right away.”

Manny looked at him impatiently.

“There was a terrible incident this afternoon over on the west side. Five people were gunned down in broad daylight; three young men and two girls. The police are still trying to figure out what happened, but they’re pretty sure it’s gang-related. It seems the young men were members of a local gang called the Tigers.”

Manny frowned. “Terrible,” he muttered. “In broad daylight? What’s Houston coming to?”

“Apparently, they stopped at a service station mini-mart for drinks, when they came out, a car drove by and let loose with an automatic. There were bullets everywhere. There was quite a bit of damage to the store, but fortunately no one other than those five was hurt.”

“Did they all die?” Manny asked with concern.

“One of the girls is in critical condition, but her prognosis isn’t good.”

Manny nodded thoughtfully, a sober expression on his face. “I see.” He glanced at his watch. “I think I’ll just leave now. This affair seems rather superfluous compared to this tragedy. Did you drive?”

Phil shook his head. “Roberto brought me. He’s waiting outside.”

Manny nodded briskly. “Okay, let’s go. I think we’ll pay Dr. Nose a visit and discuss that new shipment. It would be prudent to make sure the west end gets a lion’s share of the new product. It will help fill the gap that will be caused by this tragic event.” He headed for the lobby of the posh hotel, Phil right on his heels. “And Phil, have flowers sent, will you? Make sure it’s a nice arrangement, one which will demonstrate the depth of my sympathy to the family.”

CHAPTER 12

The ride to the pottery was much shorter, because this time they didn’t stop in Delores Hidalgo. Claire and Jack emerged from the car, grateful for their driver’s skill on the twisty roads. Since Raphael’s accident they were very much aware of how treacherous these roads could be. Their driver preceded them into the pottery and spoke briefly to the woman behind the register before leaving to wait outside by the car.

Claire took her time examining the wares, selecting pieces she thought were similar to the ones she had purchased before. However, this time she bought a couple of additional pieces, deciding she could use them as gifts. But she didn’t see anything to replace the frog she had bought for Lucy.

When Claire described what she was looking for, the clerk, a different person than was there before, only looked puzzled and then she gave an elaborate shrug. “I don’t have anything like that. Are you sure you saw it here? We have some lovely pieces over there.” She pointed to the collection of turtles, snails and bird feeders sitting in a corner.

“No, it was nothing like those, and yes, I’m positive it was here, in this pottery. I went back to use the restroom and found it on a table back there. It was just the perfect gift for my friend. Unfortunately, our house was vandalized the other day and we lost it along with everything else.”

The woman shook her head, pity on her face. “I’m sorry, but as you can see there is nothing here like you describe. Perhaps it was part of a special order. Sometimes when the pottery does a special order, we don’t even see the pieces here in the showroom because they ship everything out.”

“Perhaps you could find another piece for Lucy,” Jack suggested, looking around. “Maybe she would like a serving dish instead of something for her garden?”

“No, that was the perfect gift. It would appeal to Lucy’s zany sense of humor as well as look terrific in her garden.” She was disappointed and then she brightened with an idea. “Wait a minute, maybe I could talk Jeff into selling me one of his prototypes. That would be even better. It would be an original.” She smiled at Jack, waiting to see what he thought of that idea.

“Well if anyone could talk him into it, you could. We can ask him.”

Claire insisted on using her credit card to pay for the purchases, and then they chatted with the woman while she carefully wrapped each piece and packed it all in a sturdy box.

“Is the pottery in operation now?” Claire asked, and then realizing she confused the woman, “Are they working back there now?” she gestured at the door to the back.

“Si,” she nodded. “It is very busy just now.”

“I was hoping we could see them making the pottery. Could we walk through and watch what they are doing?”

The woman thought a moment, obviously weighing this harmless request against the amount of money they had just spent. She held up a finger, “One minute, please,” and she ducked through the door behind her.

She returned with another woman. “This is Carmelita; she is the supervisor of the glazing room. She will show you around for a few minutes. All right? And while you’re gone I will finish packing this box and have it loaded in your car.”

“Thank you very much. You are very kind. Come on Jack; let’s see how they do this beautiful work.” Claire happily followed Carmelita through the door and into the labyrinth she had seen on her journey to the restroom on her last visit.

Carmelita’s English was rudimentary, but since Claire was fascinated just watching the activity, she didn’t need a lot of explanation. Carmelita led them to a large room near the back of the structure where potters magically turned lumps of clay into functional pieces on the spinning wheels in front of them. In one part of the room artisans were deftly adding handles, fitting lids, even changing the shapes of some of the pots from circular to oval and squares before putting them on racks to dry. After watching a few minutes Carmelita led them to a roofed, outside area where several ovens, kilns, Carmelita called them, sat. One man was taking pieces from a set of shelves on wheels and stacking them in a kiln. Two large kilns at the other end were closed up, glowing red with heat through the edges of brick. It was impossible to even get close to them. They were obviously cooking the pots. Carmelita explained the pieces were fired, then glazed, and then fired again in the big kilns at the back.

“Very hot!” She used her hands to emphasize her description.

They could see it was so.

Jack and Claire were relieved to follow Carmelita back into the relative coolness of the interior where about ten or twelve woman were painting pottery pieces.

Claire watched one of the girls nearest her. She sat in a chair, with a table beside her, holding a variety of small containers of colored glazes and several brushes. In front of her, a plate she was painting rested on a turntable and she confidently turned the plate to add a color to a piece of design at intervals around the perimeter of the plate. Claire watched intrigued as an intricate design emerged in front of her eyes. A woman next to her worked on a large urn, painting fruit all over the surface. Carmelita explained it would take the woman about three days to complete the design on this one piece. She was one of the senior decorators used for the large and very expensive pieces.

Carmelita beckoned to them and they followed her out of the glazing room and across the packing room. Here racks of finished pottery pieces were being wrapped and boxed in preparation for shipping. While they paused to watch, a door at the side opened and two men emerged talking and gesturing. The opened door gave Claire a glimpse of another large area which looked very interesting. The men stopped abruptly when they noticed them standing there. Then one of the men hastily pulled the door shut behind them while the other started shouting angrily in Spanish at Carmelita, gesturing wildly with his hands.

Carmelita’s skin turned pasty white and her eyes widened with fear. Finally she was able to answer in a quivering voice and the man hesitated before turning to Claire and Jack, saying in English, “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Customers or visitors are not allowed in the working area.” He was visibly working at arranging his face in a more pleasant expression. “The insurance you know? They always worry about accidents happening.” He waved his arm towards the other door, making shooing motions and they meekly followed Carmelita into the shop.

Carmelita breathlessly explained in Spanish to the clerk in the shop and Claire tried to fix things. “I’m sorry. I hope we didn’t get Carmelita in trouble. The man said we weren’t allowed, because of insurance regulations.”

The woman looked a little shocked, and then said, “No, no problem. Don’t worry. It was my fault. I’ll explain.”

“Well, it was very interesting. We appreciated seeing it. It’s amazing what they can do with only a little clay, isn’t it? And the ladies in the glazing area are truly artists.” Then they left the shop and climbed back into the car.

“That was weird,” Jack said under his breath.

“In what way?”

“That man was very nasty to Carmelita. I expected her to burst into tears. He called her names and said no strangers were allowed. He threatened to fire her for her stupidity and said their process was secret.” Jack frowned. “I don’t know why it would be secret. Anyone wanting to copy their designs could buy pieces of their pottery to do it. And I imagine every pottery has a similar process to theirs; it certainly wouldn’t be a secret.”

“Was there a problem?” Their driver asked politely, so Jack explained about the man kicking them out of the factory.

The driver shook his head, glancing into the rear view mirror to see their faces. “Very strange. Most of the potteries are very willing to give customers tours of the workings. Many times my clients have toured this pottery. I don’t know why it was a problem today. I’m sorry if you were embarrassed. I could take you to another pottery for a tour if you like?”

“No, no we were very pleased with our purchases at this pottery. And actually, we did see most of it, didn’t we Jack? There was only that other area the men came out of that we didn’t see, and I don’t even know what that section would have been used for. No, I’m sure we saw all the important parts of the process.” Claire nodded firmly. She didn’t want any trouble. She had her replacement pieces and she had watched the process of making the pots. It was enough.

“It’s very nice of you to offer, but I think we’re done for the day,” Jack told the driver. He grinned at Claire. “I think it’s about time to check out how that new blender works, don’t you?”

*  *  *

Kathleen was still in a bad mood when she walked into the pottery. She had tried to dispel the memories of Reynald she had dredged up in the church by concentrating on memories of that day so long ago when her family was annihilated. That always got her focused on her goals, but this time she had to struggle to keep the memory bright; her mind kept drifting off to other thoughts. And now, walking into the middle of a heated argument between Miguel and two of the workers did nothing to improve her attitude.

“It was a stupid decision. I have a notion to fire your ass. I don’t care how long you’ve been here. When I set a policy, I expect it to be followed. When I say no visitors in the back, I mean it. Got it?”

The woman from the shop stared at him defiantly. She seemed as angry as Miguel. The other one, one of the women from the glazing section, Kathleen thought, was cowering. Tears were spilling out of her eyes. Her hand was shaking as she reached up to wipe them away.

Miguel looked up and saw Kathleen, gave the women in front of him a disgusted look and then turned away. “Kathleen, come on back.”

She followed him through the door, which she noted was being kept locked, and quickly scanned the four men busy working in the laboratory. She wandered further back beside Miguel, while she quickly took stock of the frogs sitting on the packing table and the satisfying stacks of sealed boxes waiting to be loaded on the truck.

“Things are progressing. The overtime has been paying off. We might fill the truck by Thursday instead of Friday as we planned,” Miguel told her proudly.

She nodded, agreeing with his assessment. “That would be great.” Then changing the subject, “What was that all about?” she asked.

“Tourists. That stupid woman was giving a tour of our shop. She said they had just spent a fortune on pottery, so she thought I would want to accommodate their request to see the pots made. She had the nerve to remind me we always accommodated these requests in the past.

“Bah, stupid woman! I’m still inclined to fire her. Why can’t people just do what they’re paid to do? Why does everyone think they can make decisions? She’s worked here for ten years, and so she thinks she owns the business.”

Kathleen’s eyes widened with concern. “Tourists? Here in the back?”

“No, no, not here. In the shipping bay. We keep this door locked just as you told us. But I walked through with Ben and came face to face with them. I guess I kind of lost it.” He shook his head with disgust.

“Who were they? Why did they want to come in the back?” Kathleen was always very careful, she didn’t like surprises.

“I didn’t ask, but I’m sure they know in the shop. I imagine they used a credit card. Most tourists do. Do you want to know the name?” At her nod he left for a while, returning with the copy of the receipt.

Kathleen couldn’t believe her eyes. “This is the tourist who was back here?” she asked, her voice cold and angry. “Was there a man with her?”

“Yes,” Miguel nodded, “a couple. Do you know them?”

She nodded, thinking hard. “Unfortunately I do know them. This is the couple who bought our frog last week and caused so much trouble. Why are they back here now? This is not good! Not good at all.”

She stared off at a wall, then making up her mind she gave specific orders. “The truck will be leaving tonight. I’ll notify Carlos. Meanwhile, you make sure everything that is ready is packed and waiting. I want the truck gone from here by midnight. Understand?”

Miguel nodded. He didn’t look happy, but he clearly understood who was in charge.

“After the truck is loaded let everyone go home. We’ll resume our regular schedule tomorrow.”

Again he nodded.

“I’ll tell my uncle. He will be angry the tourist was in the workrooms, but I will convince him you were not to blame. Understand?”

Miguel nodded eagerly. He didn’t want to take the blame for this; he knew what happened to those who screwed up.

“You see to the packing of the truck and Carlos will take it from there.” With that Kathleen left, still seething.

She drove back to town way too fast, pressing her foot against the accelerator as she gritted her teeth. She stomped through the house to find her uncle, his nose in his papers at his desk.

“I told you we should just get rid of them. I told you that.”

He looked at her calmly. “Something wrong, Kathleen?”

“I’ll say. Jack and Claire just had a little tour of the pottery.” She watched with satisfaction as his eyes widened, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Were they in the back?”

“No, the door was locked, just as I instructed. But I don’t like it. Why on earth would they have wanted to see the pottery?” She flopped down in the chair in front of his desk.

“Maybe it was just curiosity. People find factories fascinating,” he offered hopefully.

“Do you actually believe that? Do you think they just happened into our pottery twice? The first time they managed to take one of our frogs and the second time they checked out the workshop, just out of curiosity?”

He shook his head glumly. “No, I don’t think it was accidental, or coincidental. I guess you’re right. It’s time they have a serious accident. And the sooner the better.”

“Tonight would be a good time. I told Miguel the truck is to leave tonight by midnight. I’ll call Carlos and tell him he’ll have to drive back on his own. Maybe he should take his nephew. He’s been begging Carlos to let him go with him. Now he can help with the driving. I’ll stay here and make sure Jack and Claire’s accident is fatal. I’ll fly back to Houston later.”

“All right, but let’s make sure it looks like an accident, a horrible, but serious accident. What do you have in mind?”

“I would prefer an explosion, but that’s a little tricky and might look too suspicious, especially after the break in they’ve already had at the Pruitts’ house. A fire is good, but again it would be hard to make sure it got them both unless we drugged them or knocked them out. That could be a little risky; it would be hard to get into their house without alerting them. What about a hit and run? They aren’t driving, so surely we could run them over on the street somewhere.” She smiled. The thought of their broken bodies lying on the street was very pleasing to her.

Her uncle nodded, reaching for the phone. “I’ll call Ben. He can get on this.”

“No, wait! I’ve got them all working on getting the truck loaded and out. I’ll do it. It will be my pleasure.”

He looked at her, his eyebrows raised. “Are you sure. It’s risky. What if there are witnesses?”

“Please! You spent all that money on my education, remember? At least you can trust me to carry out a small assassination without a hitch.”

He nodded. She was right. “Okay. But let me help get them in position for your hit. He picked up the phone and dialed. “Hey, tough day today, huh? Let’s get some people together for a few drinks and laughs tonight. I think we could all use some cheering up. What do you think? Mama Mia’s?” He glanced at Kathleen and seeing her head shake, spoke again. “No, I don’t think it’s the right atmosphere. What about Agave?” He smiled at Kathleen’s nod. “Right. Okay, spread the word and I’ll see you there about nine.” He hung up saying, “That was almost too easy.

“I’ll be there to make sure they show up. You can park down on Hernandez Macias where you can see the front door and watch for them to come out. Too bad we’re using the truck tonight. It would be the perfect vehicle for this. Don’t use your car....”

“I know what to do,” she retorted sharply. “I’ll get a truck. Don’t worry, I’ve been trained.”

He nodded. “Okay, sometimes I forget you’re grown up now. Keep your phone on in case I have to get in touch with you. If they try to leave with anyone else, I’ll interrupt and try to distract the other person. Okay?”

Kathleen nodded curtly then left the room to contact Carlos, already planning every little detail of tonight’s hit.

*  *  *

The Agave was a charming restaurant. It was set in an atrium filled with marble columns, green leafy plants and even a fountain in the middle. On one side between the restaurant tables and the doors leading to a sports bar, a small jazz combo was set up. The bass, keyboard, drums and saxophone were playing soft jazz from the forties and fifties. Jack and Claire were leisurely sipping their coffee, ending the great meal they had eaten. They had seen Freddy and Denny, who they had met at Teddy’s party, slip in and take a place at the restaurant bar, located at the back of the atrium before the kitchen. This bar was separate from the sports bar. It was part of the restaurant and had the same open air feeling as the restaurant. The generous half circle shaped bar was augmented by tall, but small, tables surrounded by more barstools. More and more people they knew were arriving and joining Freddy and Denny in the bar. So after the jazz combo took a break and Jack settled their tab, they got up and moved to the bar.

Jeff waved them over and indicated a seat beside him. “Jack, bring another of those stools over here, will you?”

Claire climbed up beside Jeff, smiling at the others around the four tables which had been pushed close to each other in an irregular line.

“There you are,” Kaye Carter said. “I thought maybe you weren’t coming.”

“Not a chance,” Jack said as he climbed up on his stool. “We were the first, sitting over there having dinner.” He gestured to their now deserted table.

“Oh, smart. They serve a great steak here. Did you have it?” Steve asked.

“No, afraid not. I had chicken in mole, and Claire had fish, but I assure you they were wonderful. I don’t know why Teddy didn’t put this restaurant on the top of the list.”

“Don’t complain, at least you got a list. When Steve and I moved here we knew no one, and nothing. We learned everything by trial and error, didn’t we Steve?”

“And we had lots of trials and lots of errors.” They both laughed; time had a way of turning disasters into fond memories.

Claire squeezed the wedge of lime into her mineral water while she looked around the group. It was noisy and friendly, and she felt like she belonged here. It was hard to remember it had only been a week since they had first joined Teddy at Mama Mia’s. Tonight, Teddy wasn’t here, having flown to Boston earlier. Steve Carter was present, and the odd, bald Graves was here, as was Isobelle, but the Mondot sisters were not. Freddy and Denny whom she had met at Teddy’s party, were sitting across from her tonight, next to Barry, the hairstylist, and his friend, Bill. Two other couples were at the other end, people she had seen at Teddy’s and today at the church, but didn’t really know.

Earlier Jack had suggested mixing up a batch of Margaritas when the Carters called. Steve told them a plan was afoot to chase away the blues with drinks, jazz and good company, tonight at the Agave. It had sounded like a good idea since today’s funeral had been a sobering experience, which was going to haunt them for a while. Since they hadn’t made plans for dinner, they decided to go early and try the restaurant which was on Teddy’s list.

“We don’t have to stay long. We’ll just join them for a while and then come home,” Jack decided and Claire agreed.

But as it turned out, it was a fun, relaxed time; the music was good and the setting enjoyable, so they stayed longer than they intended.

Claire stretched, looking around and realized at least half of the group had already left. She glanced at her watch. It was after twelve. No wonder she was feeling tired. She nudged Jack; he had been nursing the same beer for over an hour while conversing with Graves and Bill about the financial stability of the dot coms in Silicon Valley. He pulled himself away and, seeing her look, nodded. She smiled to herself. Already they were acting like an old married couple with secret signals.

Jack slipped off his stool and steadied Claire when she joined him on the floor. “We’ve got to go folks. We somehow stayed up way past our bedtime. Thanks for the invite.” Jack went over to the waitress and settled their bill, while Jeff, somewhat blearily said, “Claire, have the guy at the door call you a cab.”

“No thanks, Jeff. We like to walk.”

“Hey, it is late, maybe I should walk with you. I left my car behind my shop,” Isobelle said. But Graves offered gallantly, “It would be my pleasure, lovely Isobelle, to drive you to your car when it’s time to leave.”

She laughed. “How could I refuse your kind offer?” She turned back to her drink and conversation while Jack followed Claire toward the door. She was happily humming Blueberry Hill along with the band.

CHAPTER 13

Kathleen surveyed the dark street once more. She had a good view down the block to the entrance of the Agave. Luckily, tonight the Teatro Angela Peralta on the corner was dark so the area was deserted. If Claire and Jack came this way she would get them when they turned on to Hernandez Macias, and if they went the other way she would catch up with them and mow them down further down Calle Mesones. Either way she was determined to eliminate them tonight.

She hadn’t been entirely truthful about them to her uncle. While it was true she thought them a threat to their plan, and she found it was most annoying how they kept popping up in the most awkward places, the real reason she wanted to destroy them was because Jack kept reminding her of Reynald. It was something about his composure, a gleam in his eyes, and the way he carried himself. Plus, she thought with a stab of jealousy, his obvious devotion to Claire was galling.

In another life, another world, Claire and Jack could have been her and her husband. No, she tried to ignore that thought, but it was dark and still, and somehow the memories wormed their way into her brain.

*  *  *

Those were happy times for her, as she felt certain they were for Reynald. They made a good team, and together they not only turned out a steady stream of recruits honed into ferocious fighting machines, but they successfully completed several tricky missions for which they were paid handsomely. It was during the celebration of one of those successes in Rio, they decided to cement their partnership by getting married. It was an old fashioned concept, but secretly Kathleen was pleased Reynald was willing to declare their love for the whole world to see. Reynald had come to mean everything to her; he had even become more important than her promise to her uncle to make the English pay for their destruction of their family. Each time her uncle asked her when she was going to return she had made some excuse, not willing to face a life without her Captain. So when she entered their hut one afternoon and found Reynald furtively packing his duffle she was dismayed.

“What’s up? Are we going somewhere?”

He frowned, refusing to meet her eyes as he said abruptly, “Just me. I’ll only be gone a short while. This time you will wait here and continue with the schedule for this new batch of trainees.”

“You are going without me? Where? Why can’t I come too? We’re a team, remember?” She wasn’t whining, she was just very surprised and yes, she was hurt that he was willing to leave her behind.

“This is a job for one person. Get in, do it and get out. Two people will just increase the chances of getting caught. This time I don’t need you, Kathleen. This time, you will do what I tell you.”

He turned away to get something from his bureau.

“Do what you tell me? I’m your wife, remember? I’m your partner, why don’t you tell me what you’re planning?”

He stopped and turned, drawing himself up, his chest puffed out, his face turning red with anger. “I am your Captain. I give the orders. You will do as I say.”

She was shocked into silence.

Something was wrong here, she just knew it. Why wouldn’t he want her to watch his back? What was he doing that he didn’t want her to know about?

Suddenly chills ran down her spine. She knew!

“Reynald,” she said in a hoarse whisper, “Reynald, tell me you’re not taking that job to assassinate the Israeli.”

He straightened up and looked at her, saying carefully, “I am not taking the job to assassinate the Israeli Prime Minister.” Then he turned back to the task of closing up his pack.

“Are you crazy?” she shrieked. “It’s a death assignment. You said so yourself.”

He ignored her.

She forced herself to take deep breaths. She had to calm herself if she was going to convince him this assignment was madness.

“Reynald, no amount of money is worth your life. You said it was a suicide mission. You said, ‘let the Iranians do it with their suicide bombers’. Do you remember?”

He wasn’t responding.

“You said it was impossible. You said it couldn’t be done.”

“Calm yourself, Kathleen. There is no reason for everyone in camp to become a part of this discussion.” His eyes were snapping with anger, he was bristly with pride.

She loved him so much she wanted to weep, but she was terribly frightened. She could see he had made up his mind and wouldn’t change it.

She tried again, this time keeping her voice low. “Reynald, my love, don’t do this. Why would you want to take this risk?”

“I have a plan. When I said it was a suicide mission it was, but now I have a way to do it.”

“So tell me,” she cajoled. “Tell me how it can be done. Let me be a part of it.”

“No! It is best no one knows. It should be enough for you to know I have a plan and the plan will work. I am the best at what I do. If it can be done, I am the person to do it. And now I know how it will happen. Soon I will make it happen. Later, when I am back, I will laugh with you at how ridiculously easy it was. But until then you will have to trust me to do my work as I see fit.”

“Where will you go? Israel?”

“No, he will be in Buenos Aires for a summit conference. I will do it there.”

“Reynald, don’t you want to talk it out; go over the details one more time?” Now she really was whining, but she was scared witless.

Finally, desperate, “If you loved me you wouldn’t close me out. We’re a team. You said we were a team. Why don’t you let me work with you on this?”

He was angry now. He grabbed his duffle. “Shut up, Kathleen. If I needed you I would use you. If I wanted you, I wouldn’t hesitate to take you with me. You are superfluous in this case. I warn you to stay out of it or you might jeopardize this whole mission.” And he stormed out of the hut without even kissing her good-bye.

*  *  *

Kathleen sat there in the dark feeling sick to her stomach. Even after such a long time, the loss of Reynald was almost unbearable. She didn’t know why he felt he had to take that job, but suspected it had a lot to do with his ego. Somehow the people who hired him presented it in a way he got sucked into proving how good he was. But, of course, he wasn’t.

It was a long while before she could accept he wasn’t coming back. Then it was months before she could buy enough information to piece together what happened. The Israeli’s were brutal. Their security was probably the best in the world. There was no word of the attempt in the media, but the assassination was stopped and Reynald destroyed before he even got close. It was a suicide mission.

All Kathleen had left was the realization that Reynald never loved her as she loved him. He didn’t really consider her as a partner. He didn’t really, as he said, need her. And that knowledge was a blow which almost destroyed her.

Unlike her constant examination of the incident that took her family, she didn’t like to remember that time with Reynald. It pained her too much. There were too many questions she still had about their relationship, and truthfully, she suspected she had been a fool about him. She had acted no differently than a giddy young girl infatuated with a rock star.

She tried to analyze her attraction to him. He was of medium height, slender, even though his naked body revealed tight muscles. He was dark, dark eyes, dark hair and toffee colored skin. Even now she felt a shiver run down her spine thinking about him. It was his attitude, she thought. That quiet competence that somehow conveyed itself to others. People immediately respected him, suspecting hidden depths that they were afraid to explore. She knew of course, having worked with him, that he was a vicious and efficient killer who, if he had boundaries, never revealed them.

That is why Jack resembled him. Not in looks, although Jack was about the same height, slender but muscular; no it was that air about him. You knew when you met Jack that he was good at whatever it was he did, and you immediately knew not to test him.

And what was there about his insipid friend, Claire? Why did she deserve the devotion of a man like him?

And to think her uncle was afraid of Claire. Well, she admitted, not really afraid, rather he was spooked by her.

Her train of thought ended abruptly when she saw her targets emerging from the dimly lit entrance to the restaurant. She started the old truck she had appropriated, praying its motor would catch. When it did, she eased into gear, releasing the clutch while she gave it gas. Now she forgot all about her reminisces; now she was concentrating on her targets, barely visible in the shadows on the sidewalk as they approached the corner. She was on the street now, shifting into second and picking up speed.

They were on the sidewalk just past the pool of light on the side of the theater. She could see them in front of her, the street was still empty. She increased her speed, shifted into third and jammed the accelerator to the floor. With a surge of triumph she jumped the curb, steering right into them.

The crash almost jerked the steering wheel out of her hands; she fought it for a moment, the truck careening dangerously off the curb before spinning out of control back into the street. The truck stalled, she looked around wildly. Where were they? She frantically pushed the starter again. It was taking too long. She tried the starter again, and when the motor caught she shifted into first and tore down the street, looking in the rearview mirror for some sign of her victims.

*  *  *

Claire struggled to catch her breath and slowly crawled to her knees. “Jack? Jack are you hurt?” She put out her hand to touch his shoulder.

He groaned.

“Oh, my God, did that truck hit you?” They were deep in the shadows now and it was so dark she couldn’t see his face even though her own face was down next to his.

“No, I don’t think so. No, I know it didn’t hit me, but I hit something when I pushed us out of the way. It felt like a stone wall.” Now he was beginning to sound like Jack. “Hold on to me, I’m going to stand up.”

Leaning against each other they managed to stand and look around.

“My God, that driver must have been drunk. He didn’t even stop.” Claire shuddered. “If you hadn’t jumped out of the way we’d be spread out there on the sidewalk.”

Jack was running his hand gingerly over his ribs.

“Oh my gosh, you didn’t open your wound again, did you?” she asked, alarmed.

“No, I think I’m fine, but obviously I’m not quite healed. I felt that tumble. I wouldn’t want to do it again.”

“Can you walk?” Claire was really concerned. She put her arm around him. “Let’s go back to the restaurant and sit a moment. Then we’ll call a taxi to take us home.”

“I can walk, Claire. Don’t get all concerned.”

“Of course I’m getting all concerned. You may be able to walk, but why should you? You’re still convalescing, Jack. Use common sense and pamper yourself a little. Remember what Dr. MacIntyre told you about pushing yourself too fast.”

Jack stiffened as if he was going to argue, then changed his mind. “I guess I could use an aspirin or another drink.” They slowly made their way back to the restaurant.

“Hey you two, I thought you left a bit ago,” Steve Carter said jovially, waving them over.

He and Kaye and Jeff were still sitting at the tables they had shoved together to accommodate the crowd they had been. Jeff was eating a huge sandwich and Kaye was picking at a platter of nachos.

“We did, but we changed our minds.” Claire watched Jack seat himself carefully, concern plain on her face.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” At Steve’s words both Kaye and Jeff scrutinized Jack.

Jack shook his head.

Claire nodded hers. “We had a bit of a run in with a drunk and his truck...” Claire started to explain.

Jack cut in, “I’m not sure it was just a drunk, Claire.”

She looked at him shocked. “What then? Drugs?”

He shook his head. “I think someone tried to run us down.”

The gasps and protests came from around the table. Finally Steve said, “In San Miguel? I don’t think so.”

Jack shrugged carefully. “Claire, let’s have a drink, that will help put things in perspective.”

Kaye waved the cocktail waitress over and they all ordered drinks.

“Okay, Jack, tell us what happened.” Steve was acting like he was the commanding officer.

So Jack told them about deciding to walk home via Hernandez Macias. “It’s the most direct way to the Pruitts’ from here. We weren’t in a hurry, just strolling along, but I heard this truck coming up the street and I could tell by the sound of the motor it was going way too fast. I turned around to check and saw it coming straight for us. I didn’t have time to warn Claire. I just grabbed her and leaped out of the way. Unfortunately, there was a stone wall where I landed.” He grimaced. “Anyway,” he looked at Claire, “I caught a glimpse of the driver just before the truck jumped the curb, when a reflection from the streetlight hit the windshield. I was so shocked it was a wonder I moved fast enough.” He looked at Claire. “I swear the driver looked just like Kathleen. You know the woman we met at Teddy’s party. The one we bumped into at the Bellas Artes on Saturday.”

There was shocked silence all around the table. Then Claire said, “Jack, that can’t be right. Why would Kathleen try to run us over?”

“You must be mistaken, Jack.” Kaye agreed with certainty. “We’ve known Kathleen for several years now. She’s not a drunk.”

“I’m usually pretty good at recognizing people. I really have no reason to make it up.” Then, he shrugged. “But it all happened very fast, so I guess I could have been mistaken.”

“What kind of truck was it, Jack?” Steve asked.

“It was a Dodge pickup. Big, medium color of some sort, perhaps blue and it was pretty beat up. More so now, because I think it hit a corner of the same wall we fell against. Anyway it looked as if it had a lot of miles on it; I would think it was at least ten years old. It didn’t stay around long enough for me to get any more.”

“It couldn’t have been Kathleen. She doesn’t have a truck, does she?” Kaye asked.

Jeff shook his head. “I’ve never seen her drive one. Besides, why would Kathleen even be near here? It seems if she was in the neighborhood she would have joined us. She’s always up for a party.”

The waitress interrupted their discussion with their drinks, and they stopped long enough to taste them. They all sat there quietly for a few moments, thinking.

“Well there is something very strange going on. I don’t have a clue about what it is. But last Friday we hired Raphael to give us a tour of the area. He took us to Delores Hidalgo, then a pottery, then to Guanajuato. His car went off the road on the way back to San Miguel and he was killed. We weren’t, because you, Kaye, saw us and invited us to join you at the Mondot sisters’ concert. Then on Sunday, while we were on the Home Tour someone broke into the Pruitts’ house, beat our housekeeper and trashed the house. And, by the way, they stole every thing we bought while we were here in San Miguel.”

He took a sip of his glass of Scotch, letting it slide down his throat. Everyone waited, waiting expectantly to hear more.

“Today, the Pruitts’ agent replaced the small appliances, we went to Raphael’s funeral, and then we hired a car to take us back to the pottery to replace the pieces we had bought. Later after dinner here with you folks, someone, we don’t know who, tried to run us down in a truck.” He looked around, eyeing each person for a moment before saying, “I don’t think this was all coincidental. But I don’t have a clue as to what it all means. Do any of you have any ideas?”

“Why did you go back to the pottery?” Kaye asked.

“Oh, they had such beautiful things,” Claire told her enthusiastically. “Very colorful, it’s very much like good Italian pottery. My mother will just love it. I bought her some to use in her catering business, but it was all in Raphael’s car. Well, all but the frog, that was in my tote bag. Anyway, it was stolen with everything else during the break in. So I wanted to go back, to replace the pieces, you see?” She looked at Kaye, looking for a sign she understood.

“And we were able to replace everything, but the frog.” She turned and looked at Jeff. “I bought one of those little black frog princes, a copy of one of your sculptures. I wanted it for a gift for my friend’s garden. I had slipped it into my tote, and so it wasn’t destroyed in the wreck, but it’s still gone. And they didn’t have any more. The lady in the shop didn’t even recognize it. She thought it was probably part of a special order.” Now she leaned forward eagerly, fixing Jeff with an earnest gaze. “I was hoping you would sell me one of your proto-types. My friend has the most beautiful garden and it would be perfect sitting in a corner somewhere. What do you think?”

“You bought a copy of one of my frogs?” Jeff said slowly trying to process what Claire was saying.

“Yes, it was very nice. Not as nice as one of your originals, of course. It was only a copy, probably turned out from a mold. Still it had the same expression and shape. And it was black, just like the ones you made.”

“And you got it at the pottery you visited with Raphael?” Jeff asked, shaking his head in confusion.

Claire nodded. “Yes, it wasn’t in the showroom. I found it in the back waiting to be packed and I just couldn’t resist it.”

“But how would a pottery get a copy of my frogs. I haven’t shown them to anyone.” He frowned from the effort of thinking about it.

“Is it important?” Kaye asked innocently.

“Hell yes, it’s important. I don’t like thinking someone is ripping off my work. And I especially don’t like to think that someone has access to my work to rip it off.” Jeff’s expression could only be described as thunderous.

Claire sat back wishing she hadn’t asked about the frog.

“Well, who does have access?” Steve asked calmly.

Jeff shook his head again. “Not Teddy. He never comes in the studio. In fact, I usually keep it locked so even the gardeners or Tia don’t go in there.” He frowned from the effort of thinking about who was in his studio.

“Kathleen. Kathleen was in the studio a few months ago when she was down visiting her uncle and came over for dinner.” He thought a moment. “I suppose she could have taken one. I don’t count them, you know. I just make a new one when I get the urge. I’m trying to make the perfect one, but I haven’t quite got it yet.” He nodded his head, but then a puzzled expression crossed his face. “But what in the world would Kathleen want with one of my frogs? And how would it get to that pottery?”

“Well, it wasn’t just one of your frogs. There were dozens of copies when I found it. They were all in the packing area. I just picked one up and took it to the front. I thought you arranged for them to reproduce it.”

Jeff’s mouth fell open with shock.

“Well, I think I can answer your question about how it got to the pottery,” Steve said. “Graves told me he had invested in that pottery. He is working to establish an export distribution channel to sell their products in the U.S. He thinks it will be a money maker and certainly a boon for the little town supporting the pottery.”

“But, what does Graves have to do with Kathleen? Am I missing something here?” Jack asked, confused.

“Graves is Kathleen’s uncle. You know him. He’s the bald-headed guy. He’s been coming down here for several years, and just recently decided to move down here fulltime. His niece has been down several times. I don’t know where she lives, but I’m pretty sure she works with Graves in his businesses.” Kaye was full of information.

“So,” Jack said slowly, “the pottery which made the frog, which was stolen from us, is connected to Graves. Kathleen is connected by family to Graves and the probable source of the frog from Jeff’s studio. This is very interesting. And it reminds me that the man who shooed us out of the pottery today said they had secrets. Now I’m wondering what secrets?” You could see Jack had forgotten about his aches and pains. Either the alcohol was doing its work, or all his thinking had distracted him.

“We didn’t see anything secret, but,” Claire said slowly, thinking, “that room behind the locked door could be hiding secrets. Do you think it had anything to do with the frogs?”

“I don’t care what secrets they have, I don’t want them copying my frogs and selling them all over the world,” Jeff growled with feeling. “I have a mind to go out there on a search and destroy mission.”

“Now, Jeff, don’t get all in an uproar. Maybe there is a perfectly good explanation for this whole thing.” Kaye tried to soothe him.

“Well, give it a try. Explain it,” her husband said, daring her to come up with an acceptable explanation.

She shook her head with confusion. “I don’t know, but of course there is a reason.”

Jeff stared glumly at his empty glass and raised his arm to signal the waitress they needed another round.

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to go out there and look around,” Steve offered.

“I don’t think that will work. They were just giving us a brief tour and you should have seen how mad this guy got. Jack said he really reamed the woman for taking us back there. I don’t think they would let us in to look around, do you, Jack?”

Jack agreed with Claire. “Not a chance. Perhaps you should just talk to Graves about it. He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“I thought so, but now I’m wondering?” Jeff said bitterly. “What kind of friend rips off your art? Huh?”

“Oh, for goodness sakes, this is getting way too big. Why don’t you just drive out there and nose around. Then you’ll know if Claire really saw copies of your frogs or not,” Kaye told them, exasperated.

“What, tonight?” Jeff reared back, alarmed at the idea.

“Yes, tonight! What’s the big deal? The pottery will be closed. I don’t think locked doors could stop Steve. He used to do this kind of reconnoiter for a living, didn’t you dear?”

“But, that’s breaking in...” Claire started to protest.

“It’s not like we’re going to steal anything. We just want to see if Jeff’s frog is being used without his permission. If it is, he can then confront Graves and have it stopped.” Kaye sounded very reasonable.

“Why can’t he just call Graves and ask him. He was just here a bit ago; chances are he’s still up.” Claire thought she was being very logical, but she could see from the looks on the other faces that they all liked the idea of a night mission.

“We have our Land Rover parked outside.” Steve glanced at his watch. “It’s one o’clock now. We could go out, look around and be back here before dawn breaks. I’m game. What do you think, Jeff?”

Jeff nodded. “I’m hoping Claire was mistaken about finding a copy of my frog, but I suspect she’s too smart to make that kind of error. I’d like to see with my own eyes what’s going on.”

“Well, I don’t think I can let you guys go without me. I have had some experience that might be helpful, and I admit I’m curious about that locked room, myself.” Jack nodded, already looking completely different than the man who had dragged himself back into the restaurant such a short time ago.

“Don’t even think you’re going without me,” Claire said.

“And me. I’m not the patient kind to sit home and pray. I did that for more years than I want to remember. I’m in,” Kaye said and they all knew she meant what she said.

“Will your Land Rover hold five?” Claire asked.

“Just. Drink up; we need to get going if we’re going to do this before the workers arrive to start a new day.” Steve reached for his wallet and signaled the waitress.

As the men all contributed to the check, Steve murmured, “We could use a few flashlights and perhaps a tool or two.”

“Let’s drive by my studio. I’ve got a lot of things that might be handy.”

Claire shivered as they piled into the Land Rover. She was having second thoughts, wondering if their decision to reconnoiter was due to the liquor they had consumed or if it was just a harmless adventure, something to remember and laugh about in the years to come. She was really surprised at Jack’s participation, but then she reasoned this kind of operation might just be in a day’s work for him; perfectly normal. But for her it seemed dangerous and very exciting.

CHAPTER 14

“What happened?”

Her face showed clearly that she was upset. She shook her head in frustration. “I don’t really know. They were right in front of me. The street was deserted, it was perfect. Yet, somehow, I missed them completely. I hit the wall which sent me into a spin, and when I got control of the truck again, the engine had stalled. After I got the truck started, I looked for their bodies but I couldn’t see them. I think they might have been on the sidewalk behind me. But by that time too much time had passed, so I just high-tailed it out of there before anyone came.” She heaved a sigh. “But a few blocks away I calmed down, circled around and drove down Mesones slowly, with my lights on, turned the corner and looked carefully. There was no sign of them, so I know I didn’t hit them. I was going so fast, if I had hit them, there is no way they would have been able to move away from that spot.

“Damn! I don’t know how they could have escaped. I combed the streets between there and the Pruitts’ but didn’t see them.”

“I told you they have uncanny luck. Well, I tried to be the nice guy to protect my safe house, but now I have to face the facts; San Miguel is no longer safe for me. I’m going to have to relocate, and we’re going to have to move our factory. Good thing you instructed Carlos to take the truck back tonight. That should keep your operation in Humble busy for a while. I’ll go out to the pottery and meet with Miguel tonight. Tomorrow we’ll start to disassemble the equipment and pack up the raw cocaine.”

Kathleen nodded. She felt responsible for this turn of events. “This is my fault. Let me finish it. I can go over to the Pruitts’ house tonight and take care of them. Then I’ll head for the airport and fly back to Houston so I’ll be there when the truck arrives.”

Her uncle thought a moment. “It’s not really your fault. I told you how tricky Claire is; it’s just hard to grasp until you experience it. But I do agree they need to be eliminated. Given what you know about them now, be extremely careful when you break in. It would still be better if it looked like an accident, but just make sure you get rid of them this time.”

Kathleen nodded, already thinking about the logistics of the situation.

“Call me on my cell phone when the deed is done, and then I’ll let you know which alternative location we picked for the factory. All right?”

Graves went into his room to change his clothes and he realized as he donned the dark shirt and slacks and slipped into some rubber soled shoes, he was changing his persona. He grabbed a dark knitted watch cap to slip over his smooth skull and then finally buckled on the belt that held the holster fitted with his Glock. He removed the Glock and ejected the magazine. He checked to see the magazine was full then re-inserted it and shoved the gun back into his holster. He was no longer the American-expatriate-businessman, Graves; he was once more the dangerous, slippery Guiness.

He picked up a small duffle from his closet, which he kept packed and ready for Guiness’ use. Then he opened the wall safe in his office and removed two packages, one of alternative identities and credit cards to match, and one of cash. He added them to the contents of the duffle. Now he was ready for anything. He headed through the house to the five-car garage where he paused a moment, then chose a dark blue sedan for the anonymity of its design, knowing its powerful motor would be appreciated if he needed it.

Later when Miguel opened his door, bare-chested, wearing only boxer shorts, his eyes were still bleary with sleep. Seeing who was waiting outside woke him up fast. It didn’t take long for him to dress and be ready to go with Graves to the pottery. He was alarmed at the thought of moving their operation. They had planned for such a contingency, but he had never really expected it to happen. While the car moved through the dark night, Miguel’s forehead was damp with sweat as he thought about how this would affect his family.

*  *  *

“I hate this. How long have they been gone? How can you stand it? Aren’t you worried?” Claire’s whisper sounded loud in the dark silent interior of the Land Rover.

“Relax, it hasn’t been that long and, no, I’m not really worried. Steve needed this. I can tell he’s just been crawling with suppressed energy. When he was still in the service they would take the troops out for field maneuvers or war games when they got like that. Now he doesn’t have an outlet. This is just the kind of thing he needs.” Kaye’s whisper conveyed her satisfaction.

“What about Jeff? He’s an artist. What does he know about sneaking around in the dark?”

“Well, regardless of his sexual preference he’s a guy, isn’t he? All the guys like to play these adventure games. They go camping and fishing and play war. But actually, Jeff was a Commando, didn’t you know?”

“Jeff?” Claire couldn’t help her surprise. She had no idea the pleasant giant had another side.

“Yes, he did his time, and then I think he wanted to get as far away from that life as he could. I suppose it was even harder for him, since he had to be careful to hide his sexual orientation. Big bad Commandos probably are even less accepting of alternative lifestyles than the normal branches of service.” Kaye sounded a little bitter. “Anyway, after he met Teddy, he seems very happy with his life in sleepy San Miguel.

“But I guess you might be a little worried about Jack. Don’t be. I’m sure Steve and Jeff will look after him. Actually, though, I think he was pretty brave to go along with them like that. What does he do for a living anyway? I don’t think he mentioned it.”

“Shh...what’s that?” A prickle of unease washed over Claire’s scalp.

She turned and looked out the window in time to see the lights of a powerful sounding car coming down the dirt road. Both women ducked down in the car, as if that would keep them invisible. Fortunately, parked as they were in the shadow of an out-building down the street from the pottery they weren’t noticed by the occupants of the car. The car swung into the lot behind the pottery and they heard the doors slam in the still night. They looked at each other with alarm.

“This doesn’t look good,” Kaye whispered.

Claire nodded. “I agree. What should we do?”

Kaye reached under the front seat and brought out a wicked-looking Billy club. “Reach in the back, Claire, and see if you can get that tire iron we keep there. I think we need to be armed, just in case.”

Claire frantically felt around in the luggage bay behind the second seat until finally her fingers grasped the metal rod. “Crawl over the seat so you can get out through the driver’s door, Claire. Steve disabled the light switch on this door. No sense in advertising our presence by flashing the interior lights.”

When Claire stood behind Kaye on the ground she noticed her knees were quivering and she suspected it had nothing to do with the effort it took to climb over the seats to get out.

Kaye started out boldly, silently, heading for the back end of the pottery. Claire followed closely, holding the back of Kaye’s blouse bunched in one fist, the tire iron clutched in the other, as she nervously made sure she didn’t lose her in the dark. It was hard to see, so they were apt to stumble over rocks and uneven ground, but a small light near the back door beckoned to them.

*  *  *

The men cautiously circled the pottery before deciding the door at the back was their best bet for a speedy entry. It was a very solid door, but secured only with a padlock connecting the hasp on the door to the metal frame attached to the wall.

“I think I can cut the padlock off with my bolt cutter,” Jeff whispered.

“No, that’s too obvious. They would see it had been cut. Let’s see if I can pick the lock. That way when we leave no one will even know we’ve been here.” Steve pulled a handful of key-like tools from his pocket and started to work on the lock.

“What? You just happen to carry a set of picks?” Jack whispered. “What are you, a cat burglar?”

Steve chuckled. “Good idea to bolster my income. But no, it’s a hobby. I practice whenever I can. You’d be surprised how many times Kaye and I have been locked out of the house or car. I got tired of calling a locksmith and decided I could learn to do it myself.” He was quickly trying one after the other of the little picks in the lock. “Aah, here it is.” He worked the pick a bit more and it opened with a soft click. He stood back and said proudly, “Gentlemen, we’re in.”

They cautiously entered what proved to be a roofed patio area. Jack recognized it from their visit earlier. One of the kilns was still glowing orange with heat. The door into the pottery from the patio was closed, but not even locked. They quickly spread out and using the flashlights Jeff supplied from his studio, went through all the rooms to check to make sure they were alone, meeting back in the packing room near the locked door.

“I didn’t see anything that looked like a copy of my work,” Jeff said, not bothering to whisper. “Did either of you?”

“I didn’t either,” Steve confirmed.

“Or me,” Jack said, looking carefully at the locked door. “What do you think, Steve? Can you get us in this one?”

He shrugged squatting down in front of the door, his picks in his hand. “This is a little more sophisticated a lock. Let me give it a try.” He worked for a while. Meanwhile Jeff and Jack aimed their flashlights at various parts of the room.

“Hey, I need some light here, guys,” Steve complained, and they both put their lights back on the door. “Thanks. It’s a little stubborn, but I think I’ve got it. There, that’s it.” He got up and cautiously opened the door.

The three beams of their flashlights skidded about the room.

“Close the door behind us and I think we can turn on the lights. I don’t see any other doors and there are no windows in here.” Jeff pushed the door shut behind them and Jack flipped the light switch. They blinked for a minute adjusting to the brightness of the lights.

“Whoa, what’s all this?” Steve moved over to a work area filled with basins, beakers, paper packages and a couple containers marked ‘ferric chloride’. “Are they cooking something?”

“I’d say so,” was Jack’s comment. “But I don’t think its bakery goods.” He picked up an opened package and stared at the label. “Cobalt? What do you suppose they’re using this for?”

“Glazes. They use cobalt in blue glazes. It’s a pretty normal ingredient, but this is the strangest glaze room I’ve ever seen.” Jeff had a puzzled look on his face.

“Hey guys, look at this.” Steve was standing near a group of shipping boxes. The top one was open showing it was partially filled with plastic bags. Steve had dipped a finger in one where the seal had been broken. “This must be what they’re cooking and it sure isn’t legal.”

“Cocaine?” Jack pushed closer. “No wonder that man said it was secret.”

Jeff had wandered to the far side of the room to examine some plaster of Paris blocks he had noticed.

“Shit, will you look at this?” He had pulled the top off of one of the blocks and they could now see it was a mold. “Claire was right. This was made from one of my pieces.”

Steve and Jack moved over closer, watching as Jeff opened several of the dozen or more blocks to reveal the cavity inside which could form a replica of his frogs.

“I don’t understand this. The cocaine, the chemicals and knock-offs of my frogs. What are they doing here?”

“I think I can explain that for you guys.”

They froze, hearing the cold voice, and then they swung around to see Graves and another man standing behind them, pointing very intimidating guns directly at them.

“Graves. Man, what in the hell are you doing?” Steve started in his no-nonsense tone.

“Can it, Carter! I know just what I’m doing. Miguel and I are making cocoa negra and molding it into little statues which we then export to the States. It’s virtually undetectable cocaine at the border and while we have to process it again to purify it, it is going to be very popular.” He grinned evilly. “And it’s going to make us a lot of money.”

Jack didn’t like the confident way Graves held the gun. He looked far too capable of using it.

“So, Jack Hanford, you’re sticking your nose into things that don’t concern you again. Unfortunately for you, this will be the last time you’ll be upsetting my plans.”

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” Jack tried drawing him out, basically stalling for time.

“Oh, no you don’t. We don’t have time for long explanations like they do in the movies. We’re just going to kill you and move on. Suffice to say, you’ve managed to derail our little project here. We’ll be moving shop immediately. I hope you find that enough satisfaction for your foolhardy action.” He stretched his arm out, pointing his gun at Jack while the man beside him did the same in Steve and Jeff’s direction. Grave’s face was purposeful, while the other man’s face dripped with nervous sweat.

*  *  *

Claire and Kaye tiptoed toward the open door where the bright light illuminated the room as if it was a stage. And the drama they saw playing out in that room sent chills down their spines.

Jeff, Steve and Jack stood stock still, warily eyeing the men standing in front of them. While the two men had their backs to the door, the threatening guns they were holding were clearly visible to the women.

This was not good!

Claire looked at Kaye, put a finger in front of her lips and then indicated with a nod that Kaye should follow her quietly. They crept silently into the room to hide behind a stack of cartons only a few feet behind the men with the guns.

“I couldn’t believe it when someone told me you were copying my work. I didn’t want to think you’d take advantage of me, like that,” Jeff said bitterly to Graves.

“Get over it! We needed something and Kathleen thought it would be a lark to use your frog. We didn’t intend you to ever find out about it.”

The tension in the room sizzled and when the cell phone rang, sounding incongruously cheerful, everyone jerked with surprise. The taller man, reached into his pocket with his free hand, opening the phone deftly, he put it to his ear and listened.

“I know they’re not there.” He spoke, his voice identifying him as Graves. “They’re here; well at least Jack is, along with Jeff and Steve Carter. It seems they were coming out to investigate the frogs we were using. I don’t know where Claire is. Good point!

“Well, she’ll be near here, probably waiting outside somewhere, in the car. You head out using an alternate plan and I’ll take care of this.” He snapped the phone closed and put it back in his pocket, saying at the same time, “Kathleen was disappointed not to find you and Claire at the Pruitts’, Jack. She had plans...”

Claire and Kaye charged out from either side of the stack of boxes, club and tire iron held high. Kaye’s healthy thump on the head of the man closest to her caused him to sag into Graves knocking his gun hand aside just as he pulled the trigger. Still he managed to get two shots off before Claire’s tire iron hit him soundly across his back. She missed connecting with his head when the other man sagged into him, pushing his head out of range of the swing of the tire iron. Before Claire could swing again, Jack leaped for Graves’ gun hand while Jeff tackled his midsection.

Steve went after the other man. The gun had fallen from his hand while he was clutching his head with both hands as if to hold it on.

Claire was dancing around the three men struggling on the floor in front of her, the tire iron at ready, looking for a clear shot at Graves.

Jack using both hands managed to pound Graves’ gun hand on the floor causing him to lose his grip on it, so the gun skidded across the floor and under one of the benches. Jack let go of Graves to dive after the gun. Just at that moment, Graves, with a mighty heave lashed out and kicked Jeff in the crotch with his foot. He followed that heave by leaping to his feet while Jack was scrabbling for the gun.

Claire held the tire iron, ready to attack, but the malevolence in Graves’ eyes froze her in her tracks. And then he was gone. Jack leaped up and ran after him. Jeff was still doubled over on the floor, gasping for breath. Steve and Kaye held the other gun on the man half collapsed on the floor, moaning piteously.

“Claire, are you all right?” Kaye said sharply, having gotten no response to her other inquiries.

Claire nodded, chilled to the bone by that look of pure evil Graves had leveled at her.

“Can you help Jeff?” Kaye’s request finally penetrated so she hurried over to Jeff. She was helping Jeff sit up when Jack returned.

“He took off in his car. I’ll call for help.” He left to find a phone. When he returned Jeff was sitting up, sweating profusely, his dark skin grayish.

Steve was tying up the other man with some rope Kaye had found in the shipping room. “This way we won’t have to hold a gun on him all the time,” Steve explained. “Although I don’t think he’s in any shape to escape. Kaye really whacked him. Good use of that Billy, dear.” He looked at her approvingly.

Jack returned. “Okay, the authorities will be here soon. Obviously Graves is a man of hidden depths. I sure would like to know a little more about him as he seemed to think he knew me from somewhere. Kaye, you wouldn’t happen to have taken a picture of him somewhere along the way, would you?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t think so.”

“Teddy did,” Jeff muttered.

“Teddy did?” Jack perked up. “Do you have access to it, Jeff?”

“Sure, it’s on the computer at home. He was taking a bunch of pictures with a new camera he got one night when Graves was over at the house. I’m pretty sure I saw him in the pictures.” Jeff was doing better, but he was obviously still in pain and he hadn’t tried to stand up yet.

“I need that picture to send to some people I know. They can scan it and compare it to their files to see if they can identify Graves. I suspect he has a rather interesting history, and it may be critical in capturing him. Steve, how about me taking your Land Rover and Jeff to get that picture, while you and Kaye wait here for the authorities to come? Is that all right with you?”

Steve looked at Jack oddly, and then nodded. “Just don’t forget us. We’ll need some way to get home eventually.”

“Jack, I’m going with you,” Claire said decisively.

“Of course, I need you to help with Jeff. Jeff, do you think you can stand?” He took one arm and Claire took the other as they helped a groaning Jeff to his feet.

Jeff swayed a moment and then seemed to find a reserve of strength to call upon. They moved toward the door as best they could.

“Wait, I’ll go get the car and bring it up to the door.” Steve shoved the gun into Kaye’s hand and sprinted out of the building ahead of the trio, moving pretty fast for an old retired guy.

After Steve returned with the car, and helped Jack get Jeff into the backseat, he discretely handed Jack his bunch of lock picks. “Don’t think I want to have these in my pocket while I’m being interviewed by the police, you know? Put them somewhere safe at Jeff’s place will ya’? And remember, when we got to the pottery the doors weren’t locked.”

Jack nodded and slipped them into his pocket and then with Jeff belted into the backseat and Claire sitting in the shotgun seat, he floored the accelerator on the road back to San Miguel.

Jeff said suddenly, “Why did Graves call you Jack Hanford? I thought your name was Rallins.”

Claire and Jack’s eyes met in the dim light reflected from the dash. Claire nodded. “I heard that too, Jack. What do you think it means? Do you know Graves? Have we met him before?”

“The only conclusion I can make of it Claire, is that Graves is somehow connected to that tour of England we took; the one where we met Guiness. In fact, I’m guessing Graves is connected to Guiness.”

Claire’s sharp intake of breath sounded loud in the night.

CHAPTER 15

The little Mexican made Volkswagen ate up the miles as Kathleen headed for the Mexico City airport. She didn’t know exactly what was happening back at the pottery, but her uncle’s instructions were clear. She should waste no time getting out and she should cover her trail. She had planned to drive to Leon and fly directly to Houston. Now she was going out of Mexico City, and she would use an alias to fly to either Miami or Los Angeles, then change airlines and identities to fly into Houston. She knew it was better to be safe than sorry. She calculated quickly and figured she would probably arrive in Houston just about the time the truck was arriving at their factory in Humble.

She allowed herself the satisfaction of congratulating herself for getting the truck out of San Miguel in time. Her instincts were good, spot on, as they say. But she was furious that they would have to move their operation from San Miguel, even though that was part of their contingency plan. Still, she told herself, they were making progress even with this setback. She had established a relationship with Manny in Houston so they had a distribution system established. And once she made sure the factory was operating smoothly and the delivery process was working, she was going to move on to the second phase of the plan. She would go to California where they planned to set up their second factory in the San Diego area.

And all this trouble was because that nosy couple, Jack and Claire, somehow bought one of their frogs.

And somehow, they blabbed to Jeff. Jeff would have never known she had picked up one of his frogs from his studio. She admitted it was impulsive, but as soon as she saw them she knew they would be perfect for their coca negra. It looked like a piece of art and so who would question a shipment of copies?

She glanced at her watch and realized it would be after six when she arrived at the airport. By the time she parked the car, freshened up and bought her ticket, she wouldn’t be airborne until at least eight. Then she would hunker down and sleep until she arrived at her destination. Until then she couldn’t afford to give in to her exhaustion.

She still didn’t understand how she could she have missed hitting them with the truck? It was spooky how they were right in front of her and then suddenly they were gone, and instead of a satisfying splat, she hit that wall. That was a shock.

She told her uncle she would take care of them. She had been totally confident, and now she was very embarrassed by her failure. Her uncle wouldn’t let that slide, she knew him. She would hear about this miss for the rest of her life. And she would have to control her rage at the teasing knowing if she was anyone but Stu’s protégé and niece she would have paid for her blunder with her life.

And then she had been so determined to make up for her failure once and for all. She chose this car out of the several in her uncle’s garages because no one would give it a second glance. Everyone had one; it was part of the landscape here. She had parked close to the wall surrounding the Pruitts’ patio, and then in deep shadows far from the streetlight mounted over the door, she climbed on top of the car, threw a rug she brought over the jagged glass set in the cement on the top of the wall, and climbed over with relative ease. And all the time she took extreme care to move noiselessly. She crept through the house with her silenced gun ready, burst into the bedroom ready to spray bullets everywhere only to find no one was there.

That really was spooky. It was as if someone had hit her in the stomach. After she calmed down, she carefully searched the entire house and then she called her uncle.

If she had a sense of humor she might have thought it was funny to find while she was stalking them, they were conducting their own search of the pottery. And somehow they had recruited the Carters and Jeff to join them. Now the entire community was going to be up in arms when they found the bodies, or even if there were no bodies, just to find three of their group were missing would be enough to enrage the community.

Eliminating Jack and Claire would never have caused such a commotion.

No, now that she thought about it, she decided that she was right; they should have eliminated Jack and Claire that first day when they showed up. For once her uncle was wrong. But she didn’t think she’d tell him that, especially since she missed killing them with the truck and now missed them at the house.

But, she remembered with a cold smile, she left a little calling card. If by any chance they escaped her uncle’s wrath, they would get their just reward when they left for home. That thought made her feel much better.

Now she turned her thought to rehearsing what she would do when she arrived in Humble to finalize the Houston operations. Planning was always one of her strong points.

*  *  *

“Are you saying that you think Graves is Guiness?” Claire said slowly, looking at Jack’s profile, the surprise apparent in her tone.

He nodded, concentrating on the dark, winding road. “Who else could have connected me to that time in London? That is the only time I used that name.”

“What are you two talking about? Do you know Graves from London?” Jeff’s voice came from the backseat.

“Maybe,” Jack answered.

Claire was very quiet because she was thinking about that fateful trip she took to England. That trip where she first met Jack.

Guiness was the elusive leader of an Irish terrorist group, who had splintered off from the IRA many years ago. For years the authorities in England and the United States had heard rumors of his existence and his connection to a series of extremely violent terrorist attacks, which had never been resolved. But he had never been identified. They had no idea who he was, or really, if he even existed. So naturally when some of their listeners picked up references to his involvement with the Springer Untour they had acted quickly to investigate.

Gulliver’s Travel Bookshop was bringing in steady profits by that time so Claire was pleased to co-sponsor her friend’s, Lucy Springer, trip planned to test her newest travel book’s itinerary. And she agreed to join the tour itself. It was to be her first trip abroad as it would be for the other members of the tour, all novice travelers.

It had been extremely unfortunate when Lucy broke her leg just before they were scheduled to leave. Claire wanted to scrap the whole tour, but the others insisted they go on. Claire reluctantly agreed to assume the leadership of the expedition, but only because the company providing the bus was also providing a tour director. That tour director was Jack Rallins or Jack Hanford as he called himself then. The tour proved to be both delightful and disastrous. There was a whole series of incidents marring what should have been a wonderful fourteen days exploring Great Britain. She had often wondered since that time how she had the nerve to insist something was wrong, which ultimately led to the identification of Guiness. At that time she had never even heard of Guiness, but since then she had come to realize how absolute terror can enable a person to do things not possible at other times.

All that happened a couple of years ago and while the authorities didn’t capture Guiness, they ended up with fingerprints, photos and even DNA of Guiness, which proved without a doubt that he existed. Later that same year, when Claire visited Washington D.C. to accept an award for her heroic act and was subsequently attacked on the Washington Mall, it was that worry of Guiness being out there and engineering this attack which kept her in Washington instead of just returning home after that scary episode. She agreed she would stay long enough for the authorities to determine it had only been a random act of violence before returning to the safety of her bookstore and life in California. And again Jack Rallins was on the scene. This time he was in the role of hero. He saved her life that first night and he led the search to uncover the reason her life seemed to be in jeopardy even though they found in the end that Guiness wasn’t responsible for that particular incident.

So now, trying to fit Graves’ face with her memory of Guiness she wasn’t convinced it was the same person. However, she remembered when she met Graves she felt she knew him even though Jack pointed out Graves looked a lot like Yul Brenner. Now she just felt confused. Fortunately she was distracted from her dilemma when they pulled into the driveway of Teddy and Jeff’s place.

Jeff insisted on getting out and opening the gates so Jack could park inside by the garages. He was feeling better, he was on his feet, but he still couldn’t stand up straight.

They went immediately to the computer set up in a room off the family room.

“You might think about an ice pack, Jeff,” Jack said as he sat down at the computer.

“No, I’m going to get a pain pill. I have some codeine somewhere. I’ll be right back and I’ll help you go through those.”

Jack was clicking through the hundreds of photos they had stored in the hard drive while Claire watched over his shoulder.

It took only twenty minutes after Jeff came back and took control of the mouse to pull up the series of photos he had in mind. “This was right after Teddy got his new digital camera and we had this party. See he was snapping pictures everywhere. I put them on the computer for him, so I remembered. Here. Here’s one, and here is another.”

Jack looked closely at the screen. “Can you zero in on his face in this one, Jeff?”

Jeff did it with a click of the mouse, and Graves face filled the screen. They all examined the familiar face with the sardonic smile, looking for signs to reveal what they now knew about him.

“Can you make that into a separate picture?” Jack nodded, saying grimly, “That’s it. We just need to send this. Are you connected to email?”

Jeff opened an email and typed in the address Jack gave him. He attached the photo and hit send.

“Okay, let’s make some copies for the police and then we can head back to the pottery to see what’s happening.

“Jeff, are you coming with us, taking your own car, or going to bed?”

“I’m coming. I’ll go with you. I don’t know that I should be driving on top of those pills,” Jeff said getting up slowly. But this time he stood erect. The pain pills were obviously working.

“Pills, how many did you take?” Claire asked, worry lines marring her forehead.

“Three,” Jeff admitted sheepishly. “Well, I thought two would do it, but the pain was so bad I took one more just in case.”

Claire shook her head. “I guess we can expect you to pass out any time now. We’d better get you in the car so we don’t have to carry you. Jack I’ll close the gates after you drive out.”

*  *  *

Things looked very different when they arrived back at the pottery. Jack had a long conversation in Spanish with the police, who had cordoned off the little road leading from the highway, before they were allowed to proceed. Now, threading through the officially marked vehicles in the dirt lot behind the pottery, they saw the lights on in the houses up and down the street and the outline of curious faces pressed against the windows. And most noticeable was the dark silhouette of the large helicopter against the graying sky in the field behind the parking lot.

“I guess my call got their attention,” was Jack’s comment as he parked the Land Rover. A uniformed police officer waited for them to alight and then turned to escort them into the covered patio area.

When they entered the shipping room Claire spied Kaye sitting on a chair in the corner and headed for her.

“You’re back. Did you find what you wanted? How’s Jeff? He looks a little better.”

Claire nodded, and then whispered, “He took three pain pills. I don’t think he feels anything right now. I keep waiting for him to fall over.”

“He’s a big man, so three might be the right number. I felt sorry for him. That Graves, what a bastard he turned out to be.” Kaye’s contempt was almost physical. “What about the picture?”

“We found a good one and Jeff made copies. Jack has them. What’s been happening here?”

Kaye opened her mouth to tell all, but was interrupted by an officer who came to fetch Claire.

Claire followed the man into the glazing room, which now was being used for other purposes. Over on the far side Jack was engrossed in a conversation with two men, while another man was taking notes. She was led to one of the tables nearer the door where two more men sat.

She sat where they indicated she should and waited for the questions she knew would be coming. Luckily for her, one of the men spoke excellent English and the other seemed to understand English, but spoke it with a thick accent. They listened to her story, occasionally asking for more details, once or twice pausing to speak rapidly to each other in Spanish. “And how did you get into the building?” they asked.

“We came in the back door, the one which led to the covered patio.” They waited, and when she didn’t say anything more, they asked, “And how did you get in?”

“The door was unlocked; we just opened it and came in.”

They looked at each other, and then the one in charge asked carefully, “How did the men get in?”

“I don’t know,” she told them truthfully, and repeated, “When we got to the door it was open. We followed Graves and the other man; I didn’t see how they came in. And the door to the inside room was unlocked and open, we could see right in from the packing room.”

Finally finished, they told her to wait in the other room with Kaye.

“I’m exhausted. What time is it?” Kaye looked beat.

“It’s almost six. No wonder you’re tired.”

“Yes, it’s not like staying up all night to party, is it?” Then she lowered her voice. “Did they ask you how we got in?”

Claire nodded.

“What did you say?”

“I told them the truth. Why?”

“Because they seem to be very concerned about how the guys got in here. I don’t know what the boys said, since neither of us was with them,” she shrugged, “so of course, we couldn’t answer that question for the police.”

“Okay, I think we can go. You girls ready?” Steve Carter joined them, still acting as if he was the officer-in-charge of this operation.

Jack and Jeff joined them and Jack slipped his arm around Claire. “I have to stay here for a bit. A couple guys are flying in to join us and want to talk to me. How about you go home and get some rest and I’ll be there later.”

Claire looked at him. “You’re on medical leave, don’t forget.”

He nodded. “I’m just talking to them. Will you be okay?”

She nodded, and then she shivered. “Wait! What did Graves say about Kathleen waiting for us at the Pruitts’? Have they located Kathleen yet? You don’t suppose she’s still waiting at our house, do you?”

Everyone looked at each other.

“He did say something about a plan,” Kaye said.

“Just before you girls attacked them. I remember,” Steve said. “Then all hell broke loose. I was so proud of you.” He beamed at Kaye.

“Yeah,” Jack said slowly. “That doesn’t sound good, does it?”

They all looked at each other for a minute.

“Well, Claire can’t go to the Pruitts’ until somebody checks it out. And we’d better call and make sure the housekeeper doesn’t come in until we know it’s safe,” Steve said in his decisive military manner.

“I’ll take Claire home with me. She can stay there until she knows the Pruitts’ house is safe, and I’ll ask Tia to call and make sure that no one goes into the Pruitts’ house to clean until we say it’s safe. All right?” Jeff offered.

“Yes, that’s good. I’ll talk to the officers here and have someone check the house,” Jack promised.

“Claire, are you all right with this?” Kaye asked, her face creased with worry lines.

She nodded. “I just need some sleep; I can sleep anywhere and I’ll worry about toothbrushes and clean clothes later.”

“Good girl.” Jack escorted them to the door and watched them get into the Land Rover and head back to town.

“So why is Jack staying?” Kaye asked. “And Claire, you never did say what kind of work he does.”

But Claire just stared out the window, too numb to talk, and the others must have felt the same as the rest of their trip to town was silent.

CHAPTER 16

Carlos glanced at Diego with irritation; he had regretted his decision to bring him along before they had been even two hours on the road. What had he been thinking?

He hadn’t, he admitted. He had just been trying to placate his nagging wife, who thought the sun rose and set for the pleasure of her younger brother. And Diego, himself, had been so sincere, pointing out how much help it would be for Carlos to have someone to relieve him on the long tedious drive.

Diego had constantly begged Carlos to take him on one of his trips over the border. Carlos suspected Diego and his friends talked a lot about the pleasures they thought were waiting for them on the streets in the States. Carlos had resisted Diego’s pleas, although at one time he had agreed to get him the proper documents in case he needed to use him one day. But he really only did that because Diego was driving him crazy. He never intended to use him. He thought the young man’s unrealistic dreams were fueled by too much television combined with the optimism of youth. Diego apparently believed everything he saw on the little screen was real, whereas Carlos, who had been in the States a lot with this job, knew being there didn’t give a person access to the kind of life portrayed on the tube. But he could never convince Diego of that.

No, Carlos knew life in the States was the same as life in Mexico for people like him. You had to work for every penny, you had to struggle to protect what was yours, and you had to pray you didn’t get squashed like a bug by others trying to take away what you had.

However, Kathleen had insisted he take someone with him this trip. She said he needed someone to help with the driving since she wanted him to drive straight through. So he let Diego persuade him.

Still hour after hour of the incessant rap music which filled the cab was driving him crazy with its beat. If he told Diego once, he told him a hundred times, to turn down his MP3 player. But somehow it still blared through the earpieces plugged into Diego’s ears. Carlos figured Diego would be deaf before he was thirty. Now, approaching the border, Carlos needed to concentrate on getting them safely through the checkpoints.

Angrily he reached over and grabbed the little devise out of Diego’s hands, throwing it behind the seat with such force, the earplugs popped out of Diego’s ears, flying through the air behind the MP3 player. “I need quiet,” he bellowed at the startled Diego. “You can have it back when you take your next turn driving, after we’re in Texas.”

They had made good time by sticking to the toll road as Kathleen instructed. He had managed to get a few hours of uneasy sleep while Diego drove the stretch from Matehuala to Monterey, but now he decided he would drive until they were safely across the border.

He noticed how twitchy Diego was without the music devise to fiddle with and chastised himself for being so hard on the boy. After all this was his first trip into the States and, at nineteen, no matter how cool he tried to act, he was very excited about it. So he tried to answer Diego’s endless questions, explaining patiently what the process for crossing would be.

“Sometimes they direct us to the side to search us, but if they do, don’t be concerned, we have nothing to worry about. Our load is legitimate. Our papers are in order. We just wait, cooperate with them and then go on our way again.”

Diego nodded, bouncing around on his seat, looking from one side to the other as they approached the checkpoint on the American side of the border.

“What? What is it now?” He struggled to retain his patience.

“I thought you said they never stop you.”

“They usually don’t, but that doesn’t mean they won’t. They have the right to check everything. Usually, they just pass me by, but if they decide to spot check us and wave me over,” he shrugged, “no problem. Understand?”

The man standing in front of the little guard hut motioned their truck forward. Two men with dogs on leashes were standing on either side of the lane they were in.

Carlos braked at the stop sign and rolled down his window. “Good morning.” Carlos smiled. “Or perhaps it is already afternoon.”

The officer nodded curtly. “Where are you headed?”

“I have a delivery in Houston. Then I’ll pick up a new load and head back to San Luis Potosi.” Carlos handed him the packet of invoices.

“Licenses please, and insurance papers.”

Carlos nodded and handed over his license and Diego’s.

The officer examined the papers and then said, “I’d like you to pull over to the far lane for an inspection please,” pointing to the side where a few other vehicles were being searched.

Carlos put the truck in gear and moved across the lanes to park where the officer had instructed him to park. “Calm down, Diego, you’ll make them suspicious. What’s wrong with you?” he warned his brother-in-law, who was so nervous he was practically levitating off the seat.

“What were those men with the dogs doing?” Diego’s voice was so high pitched it was practically squeaking. “I saw them walking around the truck.”

“They’re drug dogs. They’re checking for drugs. Don’t worry about it.” Then hearing Diego’s gasp, he barked, “What? What’s wrong?”

Carlos turned and stared at his brother-in-law a moment, then said with dread in his voice, “Tell me you didn’t bring anything with you. Tell me!” Then all patience gone he yelled, “You idiot, what have you done?”

His door of the cab opened and he climbed down to allow an officer with a very excited dog on a leash access. He couldn’t even look at his brother-in-law.

*  *  *

Phil walked out on the patio as Manny was doing laps in the pool. Manny waved from the far end before executing a tight turn in the water against the far wall of the pool. Phil removed his suit jacket and tossed it over a chair before sitting down in the shade of the large umbrella. It was hot. Here in Houston, March was a month of uncertainty. It could be as cold as the below freezing temperatures of the winter or it could surprise the citizens with gifts of hot summer-like days. Today the temperature was ninety degrees, although thankfully not as humid as the days of summer. Phil envied Manny his swim, wishing he had time to take a swim in the middle of the day.

Finally, Manny finished and, bundled in a robe, came to sit with Phil. Phil poured him a glass of the sweetened ice tea sitting on the table and waited until he had quenched his thirst before saying, “We located the source.”

“Great. That was fast. I guess those little tracking devices really work, huh?”

“Just like they do in the movies. Dr. Nose had one of his guys attach it to the delivery van while they were unloading it, and they just tracked it back to a place in Humble. It’s in an industrial area. I’ve got a couple guys keeping an eye on it.”

Manny jerked his head, frowning. “Well, keep them out of sight. Let’s not alert them to the fact we’ve located their factory.”

“No, no chance of that. I gave them strict instructions. They’re just observing what goes on there. Already they’ve learned a small number of people are apparently working there. The workers arrive in the morning about eight and leave around five. And they’ve identified a couple of guys who always seem to be there. They think they’re living there. One of them is the guy who delivered the stuff to Dr. Nose.”

Manny nodded, and then filled his glass with tea once again.

“So, when do you think we should do this?” Phil asked already concerned with the logistics of the raid.

“The sooner the better, I’d say. Why not tonight? We could go in late, after midnight, take any inventory they have and check out the factory. The neighborhood should be real quiet about then, don’t you think?

“And I want Dr. Nose with us. I want him to see the set up and then he can decide if we need any of their equipment to duplicate their process in our laboratory, or if we want to just take over the whole factory. If we take control, the workers coming in the morning will find themselves working for new management.” He grinned. “It will just be like any other business takeover situation.”

Phil nodded while he thought cynically that their takeover with guns in the middle of the night was a little different from the business takeovers so prevalent in the business world Manny tried to emulate; those were usually done through control of stock shares. Although, he admitted to himself, they might be just as brutal.

Phil opened the file folder he had brought with him and showed Manny the pictures of the building and the diagram of the neighborhood. They discussed which of their men would be most valuable to use in this mission.

“I want us to be fast. We’ll break into the front and back with plenty of fire power, but I don’t want to start a war. If we want to continue operations in that factory, it would be best if no one noticed what happened there.”

Phil nodded, he understood completely. “You’re going with us?”

“Hell yes. This is a big deal. I want to see how they’re processing the stuff. And I want to make sure it all comes down just the way I want.” He smiled. His eagerness for action was apparent on his face.

*  *  *

Claire came awake like a swimmer coming up from the bottom of the pool, slowly, gasping for breath. She felt groggy; her mouth was dry and her eyes sandy. Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed watching her intently, and suddenly she was all too aware of how grungy she looked, and how bad her breath must be. She sat up, waving him back.

“What time is it? I need to get cleaned up, I must look awful.”

“Actually, I was thinking how cute you looked,” Jack said and the expression on his face showed he meant every word.

“Are you crazy? You’ve gone too long without sleep. I’m a mess. Don’t get too close, I need a shower and a toothbrush.”

He grinned. “I brought you this.” He handed her a tall, frosty glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

She took a long grateful swallow, appreciating the tangy, sweet taste which immediately perked her up. “So? What time is it?” With the heavy drapes closed over the windows, she had no idea whether or not it was even light out.

“It’s close to seven. You’ve been sleeping a while. Jeff’s housekeeper has made us some dinner if you think you can join us.”

“I’m starved. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready.” Finished with the orange juice, she now felt ready to move.

“I brought a few things from the house for you. I hope I made good choices, but I thought you’d want a change of clothing.”

“That’s great. Thanks.” Then she realized what he meant. “You were at the house? Did you find anything? Have they located Kathleen?”

“I was at the house, and while we found how she got in, we didn’t find her or any nasty surprises.” He looked uncomfortable, and then he took a deep breath. “I had to pick up my gear. Claire, I have to leave.”

“But..., but you’re on medical leave. What do you mean you have to leave?” She knew her voice was shrill, but she couldn’t seem to control her shock.

“I have to go. You know I have to do this. They definitely identified the photo I sent of Graves as Guiness, and I’m right here on the scene. I have to go after him.”

“Jack, I know how you feel, but you’re not well enough. You just finished your antibiotics. Dr. MacIntyre is going to go ballistic.”

“Dr. MacIntyre can go to hell. I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about you. I don’t want to desert you, Claire, but do you understand I have to go? We, you and I, have been threatened by Guiness more than once. He is a menace to the world, but more than that, he is a danger to us personally. I don’t know why, but we seem to keep running into him. It’s our fate. I don’t think we will ever be safe until he is captured or dead.” Jack’s expression was grim. His words caused a shiver to march down Claire’s spine.

Jack wrapped his arms around her pulling her close. “You know what I’m saying is true, don’t you?” he whispered in her ear.

She nodded, tears sprang to her eyes; she didn’t want him to go, but she knew he would.

“I promise you, Claire, when this is finished, I will be finished. I will come back and take that position as liaison with the FBI in San Francisco and be content in Bayside. I’m hoping you’ll want to make the arrangement permanent. I’m hoping someday soon we will marry. Do you think that might happen?”

She pulled back looking at him intently. “Are you asking me to marry you, Jack?”

“Hell, yes. You told me in Venice you didn’t fool around. I just assumed you’d know when I showed up on your doorstep that I was very serious.” He shook his head in frustration. “I’m afraid I’m rather clumsy at this. Let me try again.”

He took her hands in his, looked into her eyes and said in a very serious voice, “I love you, Claire Gulliver. Maybe since that first time I crashed into you on the stairway in London. I think we’re meant to be together. I want us to be together until we’re old and decrepit, but still very much in love. Will you marry me?”

Then he flashed a mischievous grin. “There, is that better?”

She felt all teary-eyed. “Better than better; that was perfect.” Finally she smiled. “But remember if you don’t come back, we’ll never be married. Don’t do that to me.” She looked at him seriously and then her face broke into a grin.

“Oh, my mother will be so excited. She and Ruth will start planning this wedding as soon as they hear. In fact, maybe they’ve already started planning it,” she said, remembering their not so subtle questions about Jack since they met him in Venice.

“So, can we be engaged without a ring?” Jack asked. “I’m afraid I don’t know the protocol.”

“I think we’re definitely engaged. We can decide about a ring later. Don’t think you can wiggle out of this commitment. Because you’re right, I don’t fool around.” She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I love you too, and you’re the one and only man I’ve ever wanted to marry, so you better not let me down.”

“Okay, now get up and get ready for dinner. We can make plans while we eat.” Jack stood up to give her room and then left her to her ablutions.

*  *  *

Claire let the hot water pummel her while she vacillated between anxiety about Jack’s crazy plan to chase down Guiness and her excitement about their decision to marry. Of course she knew he loved her. She had suspected it before and when she saw him, looking so bedraggled and ill in Gulliver’s that Sunday, she knew why he had come to her. He didn’t have to say the words. Still she would have never taken him home if she hadn’t felt the same way about him. Even so, she acknowledged, it was exciting to talk about marriage, and very, very scary.

It was true that she had never wanted to marry before. She was satisfied with her life. It was busy and challenging, and while sometimes she regretted not having a traditional life with husband and kids, she didn’t worry about it. Somehow, none of the men she had dated had interested her enough to even imagine married life with them.

And when she first met Jack she was mostly just annoyed with him, but then, somehow she became interested. When they went their separate ways she never expected to see him again, so she was very surprised to meet up with him again in Washington D.C. and then again in Venice; it was like kismet. By that time she knew there was some strong connection between them and was waiting for the next meeting. Meanwhile she would periodically get an unsigned postcard to remind her he was thinking of her.

She abruptly cut off the water in the shower, realizing time was passing and the guys were waiting dinner for her. She donned fresh underwear and selected a pair of khaki pants and a cotton sweater from the little pile of clothes Jack had brought, slipped on the sandals she had been wearing and towel dried her hair. She was ready to eat.

Tia, Teddy and Jeff’s valued housekeeper, had done herself proud with the groaning table holding charbroiled chicken, a salad made of chunks of tomato, avocado, sliced red onion on a bed of lettuce and flavored with cilantro, a pot of spicy chili beans and a corn pudding casserole, all accompanied by lots of homemade tortillas. Jeff and Jack had been well into their beers when she appeared and at her nod, Jeff brought another one for her, to the table. For a while there was no sound, but the occasional crunch and unconscious sigh as they enjoyed Tia’s art in the kitchen.

Finally, Claire could eat no more. She was toying with the little mound of the delicious corn pudding she still had on her plate, but finally conceded her stomach wouldn’t hold another bite. So now she could ply Jack with all the questions she had.

But before she could voice the first one, Jack started talking. “Claire, Jeff and I were talking while we were waiting for you, and we both agree it wouldn’t be wise for you to stay alone at the Pruitts’ house.” Jack held up his hands to ward off her immediate protest. “Now wait just a minute, think about it. There have been two break-ins there just since we’ve been here. We don’t know where Kathleen is, or Graves, for that matter. We don’t think it’s safe.

“So Jeff suggested you stay here until you leave. He’ll drive you over to pack up your things and when it’s time to go to the airport he’s going to take you.”

She didn’t like imposing on Jeff, but she had to agree. She wasn’t sure how well she would sleep at the Pruitts’, where she would probably be jumping at every sound in the night. “Oh, Jeff, that’s so nice of you, but that’s way too much trouble.” Claire looked at him, her appreciation of his generosity showing on her face.

“Actually, I’m happy to have company Claire. It’s too quiet here with Teddy gone.” Then he grinned. “And it will defuse Teddy’s anger when he finds out what happened as soon as he left town. Because he’ll feel responsible, you know. He’ll expect me to take care of you.”

“He’s not responsible for us,” Claire protested weakly. She looked at Jack, a guilty expression on her face. “I guess I should have listened to you, Jack. We shouldn’t have tried to take a vacation. Something always seems to happen when I go traveling.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? And when you asked if I thought it was starting again after Raphael’s accident and Helen Marie was hurt in that break in, I, like a fool, told you it didn’t have anything to do with us. But now I think it did. I think it was all connected, because while we may not have recognized Guiness, for sure, he recognized us. And he must have thought there was a reason we were here. And he obviously thought we were a danger to his plans.”

Jack paused and they all looked at each other. Jack said what they were all thinking. “Who would have believed that you would find and then buy one of their frogs made of cocaine?”

Claire nodded. “That’s uncanny, and I wouldn’t have even noticed them if Jeff hadn’t given us a tour of his studio and shown his prototypes to us.”

“And I seldom show my studio. But you were Vern and Mike’s friend. And I liked you right away, so I guess I just wanted to show off. I had no idea I was contributing to a chain of events which were leading you right into danger.” Jeff looked stricken.

“Can you imagine what they said when they found out you had one of their valuable frogs?” Jack said, a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, they must have thought we took it on purpose. No wonder they were going crazy. They thought we knew something. I think that’s called guilty conscience,” Claire said, thinking about the strange events leading up to their late night visit to the pottery.

“If they had just ignored it, we would have never gone back; they wouldn’t have needed to try to eliminate us. We wouldn’t have seen Kathleen driving that truck which tried to run us down,” Jack added.

Jeff joined in, “I wouldn’t have heard about the frogs and decided I had to check out the pottery.”

“We would have never discovered what they were doing?” Jack said somberly. “We would have never known Graves was Guiness and that he was hiding out in San Miguel.”

Claire looked up in surprise. “It was never anything we did, was it? It was all because he recognized us. Oh, somehow knowing that makes me feel a little better about it. But it doesn’t help poor Raphael or Helen Marie though. They were innocent victims and, unlike us, they paid an awful price.”

The three of them sat there staring glumly at each other, remembering Raphael would never have another meal, and Helen Marie was still in pain.

“And one more thing I didn’t tell you. Late this afternoon we learned that a truck carrying a load of ceramic black frogs was stopped at the border near McAllen in Texas.”

Jeff and Claire looked at him with eager anticipation.

“It seems one of the drivers had some marijuana in his carryall behind the seat in the cab and the dogs picked up the scent right away. While they were searching the truck they received the bulletin we sent out about Graves, Kathleen and the coca negra. Somehow they were able to connect all the dots. So now they have a truckload of product, which is never going to get to the streets. And while the address on the invoices is fictitious, the driver knows where he was going. They’ll get it out of him sooner or later. It’s the only way he’ll save himself. And when he decides to make a deal, we’ll know where they process the drug on the other side.”

Tia interrupted them with offers of coffee and Jeff suggested they move out to the patio and have coffee near the pool.

The sky was velvety black and the stars were out in full force. Sitting here in the quiet, the sounds of the crickets around them, the scent of the many flowers wafting on the evening breeze, Claire could feel the tension draining out of her shoulders.

The shrill ring of the phone shattered her mood. Tia brought the phone out. “It’s for Senor Jack.” She handed the phone to Jack and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Jack put the phone down on the table and said, “That’s my ride. I’ve got to go now.”

Claire’s heart fluttered, but she smiled bravely. “I’ll walk you out.” She waited until Jack and Jeff shook hands and exchanged words, and then she walked beside him as he picked up his backpack from the living room and headed for the front gate.

There in the shadow of the gates he wrapped his arms around her for a toe-curling kiss.

“Don’t forget, you’re coming back. And try to be in one piece.”

He nodded. “I promise. I’m going to get the bastard, Claire. I’m going to make sure he will never threaten us again.”

She hugged him. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Then just before he pulled the gate closed behind him, “Maybe you better not take any more trips for a while, do you think?”

She laughed, shutting the gate behind him. She stood there listening to the sounds of car doors closing, and then the car drove off and the silence returned. She sighed, and went back to join Jeff at the pool.

CHAPTER 17

Phil pulled the car over to the curb and put it in park while they looked around. He pointed to the building on the corner of the next block. Everything was quiet.

A dark figure emerged from the shadow of the building beside them and slipped into the backseat whispering hoarsely, “The girl came in by taxi a few hours ago. So now there are three inside. Our guys are down the block on the other side. Dr. Nose is around the corner.”

“What’s the plan?” Manny was nervous. He always was just before something this big went down.

“We’ll all drive into the parking lot in front. The guys will go in through the door. Angelo and his guys have the back where there’s a back door leading to a little alley. They’ll go in that way when they hear the commotion start in the front,” Phil explained calmly. He had been over and over this plan already. “Roberto is driving Dr. Nose. They’ll pull in when we do. We won’t enter the building until we get the all clear signal from inside.

“Everyone is ready. Just waiting for you to say the word.”

“Well, okay then,” Manny said tersely.

The man in the back poked a number into his phone and put it to his ear.

“Wait!” Manny barked. “What the hell? Who is that?” Manny was sitting forward peering through the darkness as several dark SUV’s pulled up along the front and side of the building they were watching.

“Oh, shit! Let’s get out of here.” Manny’s voice was shrill with panic. “Tell the guys to scram. This doesn’t look good and we don’t want to be caught in the middle of whatever is coming down.”

The man in the backseat spoke tersely into the phone, made another call and folded the phone and slipped it in his pocket.

Phil put the car in reverse, backing quickly down the street, the lights on the car still dark. He turned sharply, paused long enough for the man in the backseat to get out and slip back into the shadows, and then put the car in drive and took off toward the Eastex Freeway.

“Those guys were Feds. I know them when I see them. How did they know? How in the hell did they find the place when it was so hard for us?” Manny muttered.

Then when they were on the freeway heading south Manny said, “If they had come an hour later they would have caught us in possession.” He shuddered, perhaps imagining his house, car, and all his assets impounded by the DEA. “That was too close!”

Phil turned into the circular drive and pulled up to the front of Manny’s house.

“Come on in, Phil. We need a drink while we think about this.”

They started up the stairs to the front door when a soft voice came from the darkness behind them and froze them in their tracks.

“Just came by to thank you personally for the flowers, Mr. Hillerman. The whole family was touched by your generous expression of sympathy for our sorrow.”

They turned around slowly to see Gilberto standing near the bottom of the steps, a sardonic grin on his face, his eyes shadowed, holding an AK-47 in a very businesslike manner.

“Hey, Gilberto, wait a minute...” Manny started, while Phil reached for the gun under his coat.

The fire spewing from the gun barrel abruptly halted Manny’s words. The pain probably didn’t last long.

*  *  *

“Where is Carlos?” Kathleen impatiently looked at her watch again while George and Gary continued their game of gin rummy. “And I don’t understand why he doesn’t answer his phone,” she said with frustration.

“There could be a hundred reasons. He could have had a flat. You know how bad some of the roads are. He could have pulled over to the side to sleep for a few hours. It’s a long boring drive. You know that. His phone battery may have gone dead. Or maybe he’s just between cell towers and can’t get a connection. Calm down Kathleen. He’ll be here.” George kept his voice even and low, trying to sooth her.

“And there could be a million reasons for me to worry. You forget what a mess I left things in down there,” she retorted crossly. “I’m just going to the front to see if he’s coming up the street.” She headed through the door into the darkened showroom.

George raised his eyebrows at Gary and shrugged, but suddenly Kathleen was back. The air was charged with electricity.

“There’s someone in front,” Kathleen whispered hoarsely, heading for their gun stash.

George jumped up from the table so fast his chair fell over with a clatter. Gary was right behind them. They picked up their guns and helped themselves to extra ammo clips.

“Is it Hillerman’s goons?” George asked.

“I don’t know. I saw several dark SUV’s. Could you have been followed after your delivery?”

“No, I’m certain of it. Gary tailed me and saw there was no one behind me.”

“Well, someone is out there.”

“Hell, let’s just get out.” Gary headed for the back door.

“Stop! Don’t be a fool, Gary. If they’re out in front they’ll be waiting out in back too. No one is that stupid.”

Gary looked at her a moment and then nodded sheepishly.

“Let’s put together a little surprise for them in the laboratory. If it is Manny’s guys, we might be able to do enough damage to send them home licking their wounds.” She headed for the door in the far wall.

The lab was dimly lit by an exit sign over the back door and a security light over the door leading to the loading dock. She pointed to the stack of drums containing the chemicals they used in turning the little black frogs back into white powdered cocaine. Gary nodded. He crawled into a space behind them which gave him a clear shot at the door to the loading area.

Kathleen quickly scanned the rest of the area and pointed to an area behind the door they just entered which also had a clear view of the door to the loading dock. And she headed a little further to the back of the space where she could cover both stations where George and Gary were hidden, as well as the back door leading to the alley running behind the building.

And then they waited. It was very quiet. Now Kathleen was glad Carlos was late. She would have hated to risk losing a whole truckload of raw product. And she hoped whatever delayed him would delay him a while longer.

ATTENTION!

ATTENTION!

THIS IS THE POLICE!

EXIT THE BUILDING NOW, WITH YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD.

THIS IS THE POLICE!

“Stay where you are,” she yelled at Gary when she saw him poke his head out from behind the stack of drums. And she let go with a couple of rounds of bullets to emphasize her instructions as well as to alert the police they wouldn’t be docilely exiting with their hands over their head.

Police? How in the hell had they gotten on the police’s radar. It hadn’t even occurred to her those black SUV’s meant the authorities were moving in. She began frantically examining their plan, looking for the flaw in their scheme. Somehow the police were on to them.

It couldn’t have been her uncle. No, even under torture he wouldn’t divulge their plan or the whereabouts of their laboratory. No one else at the pottery knew precisely where they were located, only vaguely somewhere in Houston. And all the bills of lading and invoices had a fictitious address for this very reason. Only Carlos knew.

Carlos! Damn his soul to hell, she thought viciously. That prick must have given them up. She hoped it was worth it to him, she thought grimly, because if she got out of this she would be making sure he paid for his treachery.

The noise was deafening when one of the SUV’s armed with special bumper guards crashed through the loading dock’s rolling overhead door. The double doors into the lab sprang open and, while they didn’t see the shooters, bullets poured in through the opening. At the same time some kind of battering ram was launched against the steel door in the back. The back door was resisting and George, Gary and Kathleen united in spraying the door in the front, discouraging any attempt at entry that way. No one noticed the liquid seeping out of holes in the barrels of chemicals caused by the zinging bullets bouncing around the room.

Kathleen was focused on the front for now when a sudden flash of deja vu brought to mind that Sunday so long ago when her mother and sister were caught in Granny and Pap’s house with no possibility of escape. She wondered if her sister felt as trapped, as determined, and as charged up then, as she felt now.

Two things happened at once. The battering ram finally broke down the back door which allowed a cross draft to sweep through the laboratory at the same time a bullet ricocheting off the concrete floor caused a spark which ignited the acetone spreading in an ever widening pool. It wasn’t exactly an explosion, but the resulting fireball was so fierce and intense blowing through the laboratory, that it hurtled those men crowding around both doors trying to gain entry back into their colleagues behind them. Many were badly burned.

The fire was immediately out of control and went to four alarms before the fire department was able to contain it. The original building, the one next door and half of the building behind it across the alley were a total loss. The Fire Marshall told the DEA it would be a while before the ashes would be cool enough so they could sift through the rubble for evidence. Most likely there would be little left.

The police and DEA were left trying to explain to their superiors what went so wrong. How their drug raid had caused so much havoc and they didn’t even end up with any suspects to prosecute.

*  *  *

Claire didn’t sleep well. She was very tired, but every time she closed her eyes too many disturbing thoughts crowded her head. Finally in the wee hours of the morning she slept, and then she found it very difficult to get up. In fact, it was almost ten o’clock when she awoke and found she had slept a good portion of the morning away.

Still she didn’t rush; there didn’t seem to be any point. And after her shower she dressed in the remaining clean clothes Jack had brought yesterday, thanking her lucky stars that the ladies who had come to clean up the mess at the Pruitt’s on Monday had also done their laundry. So Jack had found clean clothes to bring. Finally ready, she headed for the kitchen area, looking for coffee.

Jeff was sitting at the table outside near the pool. He looked up and waved her over. “I have coffee, fruit and rolls. Will you want anything else?”

“No, I need coffee, thank you.” She sat down and poured the hot fragrant brew out of the thermos carafe on the table. After her first swallow she felt she could be a little more social. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Groggy, slow, sore, but okay. I think I’m getting too old for shenanigans like we pulled the other night.”

“You think?” Now she was starting to feel alive and she helped herself to orange juice and papaya before checking out the rolls in the bread basket.

“I could fix you eggs if you wanted me to,” Jeff offered tentatively.

“No, you’re doing plenty. I’m fine with what you have here. What’s the agenda for today?”

“I don’t have any. I would suggest we go pack up your things later this morning, and then I’ll have Tia call the cleaning people so they can go in. Is there anything you planned to see while you were here that you haven’t gotten to yet?”

“Probably,” was Claire’s dry answer. “But I was thinking last night how good it will be to get home. I’m thinking I’ll change my reservations and go home tomorrow.”

“Well, good luck with that. The flights are frequently full, making it a little difficult to make last minute changes.”

She nodded. “But I have connections with people at the airlines, so I think I’ll be able to do it. I’ll call later today.”

Jeff nodded, but his expression was still skeptical. “What I’m going to do today is clear out my studio. I’m going to destroy all my little models of the Frog Prince. I know I will never complete the sculpture for Teddy now, and I don’t even want to look at the prototypes anymore. They will only remind me of this whole nasty incident and how treacherous Graves turned out to be. If you still want one for your friend, you can take your pick.”

Claire shook her head, saying thoughtfully, “I think I’m with you on that. I don’t think I ever want to see one again. It would just remind me of everything I’d like to forget about San Miguel.”

“I hate this.” Jeff was angry. “Look what Graves and Kathleen have done. They killed innocent people, they’ve betrayed the trust of the community and they’ve caused all of us to question our life down here. Suddenly San Miguel no longer seems like the pleasant little town it has always been for many of us.”

“Jeff, there are bad people everywhere in the world. And bad things happen all over. San Miguel is a beautiful town and it will continue to be lovely. You’ll see. These few people can’t and shouldn’t be able to ruin it for you. You wait, you will forget.”

Jeff shrugged. “I’m afraid you’re right, but I’d like to think I’ve learned to be a little more discerning in picking my friends and a little better at identifying the phonies amongst us.”

They were both silent while they finished their coffee, both thinking about the events of Tuesday night.

“Jeff, if you want to work in your studio I can easily walk over to the Pruitts’, do my packing and grab a taxi back here. You don’t have to take me,” Claire offered.

“No way, not on my watch. I told Jack I would look after you until I put you on that plane, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Claire laughed. “I’m a big girl, you know. Kathleen and Graves are gone, and Jack checked the house. I’ll be perfectly safe. What could happen now?”

Jeff shook his head stubbornly. “I don’t know, but I’m taking no chances. I’d be worrying the whole time you were gone, so I may as well go with you.” He got up, gathering an armload of the items on the table. “Let’s just put these in the kitchen for Tia to take care of and I’m ready.”

Claire got up to help and soon they were headed down the steep hill toward the Jardin and the road where the Pruitts’ house was located.

When Claire opened the door to admit them to the charming patio, the house still looked just as she left it. But somehow it felt different. She looked around carefully. She didn’t see any noticeable difference, still she was uneasy. She walked through each room with Jeff hovering at her shoulder, her eyes quickly assessing the items she needed to pack.

“Looks all right to me,” Jeff said softly, “but it seems a little spooky for some reason.”

She turned and looked at him gratefully. “So you feel it too? I thought it was just my imagination.”

“No, it seems empty and a little threatening.”

“Well, let’s get my stuff and get out of here. I’m so glad you and Jack decided I shouldn’t stay here by myself. I think I’d be up all night looking for boogeymen.”

She led Jeff to the dining room where she and Jack had put all the things they had bought. Of course there wasn’t much now, there was the box packed with pottery, the jewelry from Isobelle’s, and a few odds and ends they had purchased since Sunday’s theft.

“These can all go. Here, let’s put these odd things in this bag. I’ll pack them in my luggage when I do my final packing.” She quickly filled a plastic grocery bag.

Then while Jeff carried these things out to the car she checked out the living room and gathered the papers Teddy had given her that first day, Jack’s library book, which he hadn’t yet finished and a book she brought from home. She put these in another plastic bag, and when Jeff returned for another load she asked him if he wanted any of the groceries.

When he shook his head, she added a full bottle of Tequila to the bag of books. “You may as well have this. We might want to have Margaritas tonight.” She threw in the limes still sitting in the bowl on the counter. “Have Tia tell the cleaning people to take any of the food we left or throw it away, whatever they choose.” Handing the bag to Jeff she turned and headed for the bedroom.

She emptied her clothes from the drawers and closet on to the bed. All of Jack’s things were gone, of course. He didn’t have much, and he had packed everything to take with him. Since some of her things were at Teddy and Jeff’s, she thought she wouldn’t have any trouble packing the rest in her suitcase, which was sitting on the luggage rack near the door to the bathroom. She spent a few minutes folding and stacking her clothes, assembling her shoes and adding her cosmetics from the bathroom to the pile. Finally, she had everything in one place and she was ready to pack. She turned to her suitcase, deciding to just leave it on the rack. Her hand was on the zipper when she noticed something strange about the way it was zipped. She took her hand away, carefully looking at the suitcase. It was right were she had put it on Sunday, when she had picked it up from the jumble of things thrown on the floor, and put it on the luggage rack out of her way while she gathered some things to take to Teddy and Jeff’s house. She remembered she had closed the lid, zipping it closed just as she usually did, with both zippers touching on the front left hand corner of the long side of the suitcase. Now one zipper was about four inches from the right hand corner and the other zipper was about two inches away from the first.

She stared at it a moment as she realized someone had been in her suitcase.

Who would have been in her suitcase?

She couldn’t believe the women cleaning for Helen Marie would touch it. Why would they? Then she thought maybe Jack had, thinking he would just pack the suitcase for her.

No, that would be silly. He only brought a few things for her to change into. Why would he want to open her suitcase? He knew it was empty.

But why were the zippers in a different position?

Then she felt the hackles rise along her spine. Kathleen had been in the house. She had come to kill them on Tuesday night. She was connected to Guiness. And Claire had already experienced Guiness’s penchant for using explosives.

She was finding it hard to breathe. She felt chilled and was sweating at the same time.

“Can I help you with that?” Jeff came into the room and headed directly for the suitcase.

“No! Don’t touch it!” she cried out too shrilly in panic.

Jeff put both hands up and backed away, surprise written all over his face. “Sorry, just wanted to help.”

She shook her head. “No, no, it’s just that something is wrong with that suitcase.”

He looked at her as if wondering if she had flipped out.

“Jeff, do you think Kathleen could have planted something in the suitcase?”

Jeff shook his head slowly, clearly not understanding what Claire was talking about.

“Jeff, somebody has been into this suitcase. I put it on the luggage rack myself last Sunday after the break-in. Why is it different? Why are the zippers in different locations?”

Seeing she still hadn’t conveyed her concern appropriately, she tried again. “Jeff, could Kathleen have planted a surprise for us? Do you think she would have put something in my suitcase so when we opened the bag to pack, we’d set it off?”

Now Jeff understood, but he was clearly skeptical. “Claire, don’t you think that’s a little melodramatic?”

“Well, maybe. But she tried to run us over with a truck outside the Agave.”

Jeff nodded slowly.

“She climbed over the wall to kill us.”

Jeff just looked at her.

“She and her uncle had somebody run Raphael’s car off the road.”

He nodded, this time his face puckered with thought.

“Her uncle was going to shoot you, Jack and Steve Carter.”

Now his face had a dark angry look. “I see what you mean. But I thought Jack had the place checked out.”

She nodded. “He did, but I’m sure they didn’t bring in the bomb squad, or the dogs trained to sniff out explosives. Heck, maybe they don’t even have those resources available here. I’ve had some experience with these people before, and both times there was a bomb involved. They are very good with bombs.”

Jeff’s eyes widened as he slowly backed away from the suitcase. “What do you think we should do?”

“I think we should get out of here. Here grab some of these clothes.” She grabbed an armload and headed out of the bedroom rather hastily. “We need to call the authorities and have them check. I could be just acting like a nervous Nelly, but I’d rather be embarrassed than dead.”

Jeff didn’t waste any time following her, the rest of her things bunched up in his arms, as they headed out of the house.

They both dumped the clothes unceremoniously in the backseat of Jeff’s car and when they were in the front seat Jeff suggested a visit to the local police station on the other side of the Jardin.

“It might be easier to explain in person,” was his thought.

That turned out to be a wise decision as it took a lot of explaining and then waiting, until finally it was decided to bring in a team and dogs from San Luis Potosi, a large city to the north of San Miguel de Allende.

Now that she wasn’t staring at the suitcase Claire was beginning to feel a little silly, but she decided there was no way she wanted anyone to unzip that suitcase without making sure it was safe. She didn’t need that on her conscience. So she and Jeff returned to his house to wait until the dog team had checked the house and declared everything safe.

Claire used the phone to contact a representative at Vantage Airlines, who after seeing Claire’s designation as a VIP on the passenger list, graciously made the changes necessary to book her on a plane out of Leon for the next afternoon, three days earlier than she had planned to leave. That settled, she wandered out to Jeff’s studio to see if she could help him with his clean up. They spent a couple of satisfying hours, wearing eye protectors and using big mallets to smash and discard every one of his black frog prototypes. Claire used a method of projecting Grave’s face on the frog before swinging the mallet. After the last pottery shard was thrown into the big trash barrel they collapsed, satisfied, in chairs by the pool where Tia served them a pitcher of frosty Margaritas and some guacamole and chips.

“I invited Steve and Kaye to dinner tonight, Claire. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind, no of course not. This is your house after all. And I’d like to see them before I go. We’ve kind of bonded, don’t you think, after the last couple of days?”

Jeff nodded. “That’s what I thought. I didn’t really feel like going out, but since you’re leaving tomorrow I wanted to do something. I keep thinking we’ll hear from the police about the suitcase you left.”

Claire nodded, taking a sip of the tangy, refreshing drink. “Frankly I’m on pins and needles. In spite of how embarrassing it will be, I’m hoping I was wrong.”

“What do you want to do about the suitcase? You need it for tomorrow’s packing, don’t you? Should we go out in the morning and buy another?”

“No, why don’t I just take one of those cardboard boxes you have in the studio. I can pack that up and we can check it. I don’t want to buy another suitcase just to pack. I have plenty at home. And besides, I don’t think I’m going to be traveling much in the coming months.”

They heard the phone ring in the house and soon Tia brought the receiver out to Jeff.

Claire was fairly dancing in her chair as she closely watched Jeff’s serious expression, unable to learn anything from his rapid-fire Spanish words. As soon as he disconnected she bombarded him. “Was it the police? What did they say? What did they find?”

He looked at her soberly, and then said, “If you had pulled the zipper back, the suitcase would have exploded with enough force to level the whole house. You saved us both.” He drained his glass and filled it up, drinking it again. “Tia, could we have a refill please?” he said very calmly in spite of the tremor in his hand when he put his glass on the table.

The End

Maps reprinted with permission from the

Insider’s Guide to San Miguel

Contact Archie Dean, Author and Publisher, to purchase your updated copy of this valuable guide to San Miguel.

http://www.insidersma.tripod.com

Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17