Malone shook it. “Dale Perry.”
“Beatrice Perry.” Sienna shook his hand.
“A pleasure.”
Malone noticed that Ramirez looked to see if she wore a wedding ring. They had bought two before they left Yuma.
“I apologize for interrupting, but I like to say hello to our visitors from the United States. It gives me a chance to practice my English.”
“Which is very good.”
Ramirez made a modest gesture.
“Would you care to join us?” Malone asked.
“Perhaps for a minute or two. Una otra cerveza,” Ramirez told the waitress, then pulled out a chair and sat next to Malone. “Are you enjoying your visit?”
“Very much.”
“You don’t find it a little hot this time of year? Most of your countrymen have left by now.”
“Actually, we like it hot,” Malone said.
“You must have fire in your blood.”
“Only when I was a teenager.”
“Yes, to be a teenager again.” Ramirez chuckled. “Mrs. Perry, most of the Americans who come down here are retired. It’s rare to see a woman from the north who’s so young.” He paused. “And so beautiful.”
She looked uncomfortable. “Thank you.”
“You’re obviously too young to have retired. Perhaps you won the lottery.”
“Don’t we wish. Dale was a commercial artist in Abilene, Texas.” The practiced story accounted for their Texas car plate and driver’s license. “But a couple of months ago, the company went out of business.”
“Unfortunate,” Ramirez said.
“Dale always wanted to be a painter. When the company folded, I told him it was God’s way of urging him to follow his heart. We took our life savings and drove across the Southwest, stopping when Dale saw something he wanted to paint. Eventually we headed down here.”
“You’re an understanding woman — to go along with your husband’s dreams.”
“All I want is what makes him happy.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“What?”
“Make him happy.”
The waitress brought the beers.
As Ramirez picked his up, an anxious soldier entered the restaurant and motioned for Ramirez to step outside.
Ramirez nodded, then turned to Sienna. “As you can see, I must leave.”
“Nice chatting with you,” Malone said.
But Ramirez kept his eyes totally on Sienna. “The pleasure was mine. Nos vemos.”
As Ramirez walked to the door, Sienna asked, “What did he just say?”
“‘We’ll see each other.’”
The screen door banged shut behind Ramirez and the soldier.
Everybody in the place had been watching the conversation. Now they went back to their meals.
Sienna leaned close to Malone, pretending to murmur endearments. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Take a deep breath.”
“All the while he was sitting there, I was sure I was going to throw up.” A film of sweat slicked her face. “Did it show? What the hell was he doing?” She kept her voice down, afraid she’d be overheard.
“I have no idea.” Doing his best to look relaxed, Malone took a long swallow of beer and wished it were stronger.
“At least, he didn’t ask to see your ID.”
“Which means he can’t have been that interested in us. Maybe he just felt like jerking some gringos’ chains. But he certainly had a lot of questions. He knows almost as much as if he had looked at my ID.”
“You’re not reassuring me,” Sienna said.
“I’m not reassuring myself.”
“I’m not kidding. I’m sick. Let’s get out of here.”
“We can’t.”
“What?”
“Suppose he sees us come out. He’ll wonder why he upset us so much that we didn’t stay for dinner.”
“Jesus.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Malone said.
When the waitress returned, they ordered the shrimp. Malone gave Sienna credit. She did what was necessary and ate what was on her plate. On the way back to the trailer, she had to get out and throw up.
13
She didn’t sleep. Lying in the darkness, she stared at the ceiling and hoped that the lapping of the waves would soothe her, but the calm they usually gave wouldn’t come. Maybe Ramirez was just practicing his English, she tried to assure herself. The area depends on tourism, after all. Why would he bother two of the few visitors still remaining in town? It doesn’t make sense. He was just being friendly.
Sure, she thought.
But she couldn’t shake the apprehension that what had happened at the restaurant was the same as what had happened at every fashion show and modeling assignment she’d ever been a part of, at every party, at every … It didn’t matter that she hadn’t worn makeup, that she hadn’t taken off her hat, and that she had kept her gaze downward. Ramirez had come over to their table because of her looks.
“We have to get out of here,” she told Chase in the morning. The haggardness around her eyes showed how little she’d slept, yet she didn’t look as plain as she wanted to be.
Outside, as they loaded the Explorer, the sound of an approaching engine made her turn. At first, she thought it was a motorboat. But as she scanned the waves, movement farther along caught her attention. Not on the water — on the shore. A military Jeep. Its top was down, showing that the only person in it was the driver. Her muscles compacted when she saw twin glints of light reflecting off mirrored sunglasses.
14
As Ramirez parked next to the trailer, Fernando’s wife urged her children into their trailer. Her panicked reaction gave Ramirez a look of satisfaction as he got out of his vehicle and straightened his sunglasses. His uniform was pressed stiffly, emphasizing his taut stomach and rigid back. His pistol was prominent on his right side. Unsmiling, he approached the trailer. “Good morning.”
“Buenos dias,” Malone said, trying to sound friendly.
“Please, in English.” The contrast between Ramirez’s polite words and his stern expression was vivid. “I so enjoyed our conversation yesterday evening that I regretted having to leave. I decided to pay you a visit.”
Malone spread his hands in a welcoming gesture.
“You weren’t easy to find.” Ramirez concentrated on Sienna.
Malone imagined the effect she had on him. Without the hat she had worn in the restaurant, her beauty was striking. Despite her restless sleep, her skin had a smoldering quality.
“You so impressed me with the sacrifice you’re willing to make for your husband’s artistic career, I thought I’d come and see his paintings,” Ramirez said.
“They’re not as good as I’d like,” Malone said, “but —”
“Nonsense. I’m sure you’re being too critical.” Ramirez turned toward a canvas leaning against the Explorer, where Malone had been about to load it. “Getting ready to leave?”
“A day trip up the coast. There’s an area I want to paint.”
“But you said you did landscapes. This is a painting of your wife.”
“Every once in a while, I do one of her.”
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” From the curve of Sienna’s hips, waist, and breasts in the portrait, he turned toward the real thing. “I’m surprised you don’t live in town, Mrs. Perry. Aren’t you lonely down here?”
“Dale says he doesn’t want to be distracted.”
“I should think you would distract him.”
“We enjoy the peace and quiet.”
“And to tell the truth,” Malone said, “we’re trying to save money. In Santa Clara, we’d have to pay rent.”
Ramirez kept his attention on Sienna. “What do you do for amusement, Mrs. Perry?”
She looked more puzzled. “Swim. Read. Go sailing.”
“And that’s enough?”
“In Abilene, we were always worried about Dale’s job. Then the worst happened,
and we didn’t have to worry anymore. A simple life has been very satisfying.”
“To make up for my early departure last evening, I’d like you to be my guest for dinner.”
“Certainly. Dale and I would be honored.”
“Actually, the invitation was only for …” Ramirez aimed his mirrored sunglasses at Malone. “May I see your tourist card?”
“Tourist card?” Malone looked baffled. “But we don’t need one here. Santa Clara’s part of the Sonoran Free Trade Zone.”
“That’s correct. But this isn’t Santa Clara. You don’t live in the Free Trade Zone. Your tourist card, please.” Ramirez held out his hand.
“We don’t have one.”
“That presents a problem,” Ramirez said.
“It certainly does. We’d better drive back to the border and pick one up.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“But you just said —”
“I have business at the border. I’ll obtain a tourist card for you.”
Malone frowned. “But don’t they have to be picked up in person?”
“I’ll see that an exception is made.”
“That’s very generous.”
“Not at all.” Ramirez stared again at Sienna. “It’ll give me a chance to visit again. But I have to verify your names. The immigration officer I obtain the card from will need to be assured of your identities. May I see your driver’s license, Mr. Perry?”
“… Of course.” Malone pulled out his wallet and handed over the license.
Ramirez looked at the photograph of Malone that the Texas clerk had laminated onto the license. He read the name. “Dale Perry. An excellent likeness.” He put the license in his shirt pocket.
“Wait a minute. Why are you —”
“I need to keep this so I can present it as corroboration when I get the tourist card.”
“But —”
“It’s strictly a formality. I’ll return it as soon as possible. You weren’t planning to drive out of the area, were you?”
“No.”
“Then you won’t be needing it.”
15
“He wants me,” Sienna said.
“Yes.”
Numb, they watched Ramirez drive along the shore toward Santa Clara.
“He’ll run Dale Perry’s name through the computer to see if there’s anything he can use against me.” Sienna found it impossible to take her gaze from the receding Jeep. “To demand sex from me.”
“Yes.”
“By now, whoever Perry worked for knows his wallet is missing. Either my husband or Laster will have computer specialists checking for anybody who tries to use Perry’s credit cards or his Social Security number.”
“Yes.”
“We’ll soon have company.” As Ramirez’s Jeep disappeared into the heat haze, Sienna was finally released from staring at it. Her mouth was dry. “So what in God’s name are we going to do?”
“You said it earlier — leave.”
“But how? There’s only one road to the border. There’s a roadblock. Ramirez will have his men watching for us.”
Chase turned to the south toward the rocky bluff where the beach ended. “I wasn’t thinking of the road.”
“You want to go around that and walk to the next town?” She referred to Puerto Peñasco, a hundred miles to the south. “That would take days. In this heat, we might not make it. Besides, by then Ramirez would have figured out what we were doing. He’d have soldiers waiting when we got there.”
“I wasn’t thinking of walking.”
“Then … ”
Chase stared toward the gulf.
With a tingle, she understood.
“When Fernando comes back from fishing, I’ll pay him to take us down to Puerto Peñasco,” Chase said. “We’ll be there in a couple of hours. Ramirez won’t have time to get back here by then and realize what we’re doing. We’ll find an American. A hard-luck story and a couple of hundred dollars ought to get us a ride to the States.”
“But what about Fernando? Ramirez will suspect he helped us. We’ll be putting Fernando in danger.”
“Not if Fernando claims I made him do it. In fact, I’ve got a better idea. We’ll pay him to let us have the boat. He’ll tell Ramirez we stole it and ask a friend to take him down to Puerto Peñasco to get it back.”
They studied each other.
“We don’t have a choice.” Sienna’s voice was unsteady.
“It’s going to be okay.” Chase held her. “By tonight, we’ll be back in the States. We’ll take a bus to Yuma, get our money out of the storage locker, and find another place as good as this.”
She held him tighter, wanting to believe him.
“There are other places at the edge of the earth,” Chase said. “By tonight, this will have been just another nightmare we put behind us.”
“Sure.”
“Don’t sound so low. I promise we’ll get out of this.” He kissed her, his affection flowing into her. “Come on, let’s hurry and pack so we’re ready when Fernando returns. We don’t want to waste time.”
Time, she thought.
16
They left most of their things, putting only essential toiletries and a change of clothes in their knapsacks. Sienna set them against the kitchen door. She couldn’t repress her wistful feelings as she peered back at the trailer. It had been their home.
They split the pesos they had remaining — sixteen thousand dollars’ worth. Sienna shoved some into the jeans she had put on in place of her shorts. She stuffed most of it into her knapsack. Chase stuffed his half into the front pockets of a khaki fisherman’s jacket that he had worn on the days he had gone out with Fernando on his boat.
“Any sign of him?” Sienna asked.
“Not yet.”
“It’s three o’clock. Isn’t he usually back by now?”
“Fernando says the early hours are best for fishing.”
“Then where is he?”
“Having a better day than we are. Relax. It won’t be long.”
But three o’clock became four, then five. As the sun began its descent, Sienna fidgeted. “Ramirez will be back here soon. Or someone from my husband, or —”
“Maybe Fernando had an accident.”
“If he doesn’t hurry, we’re going to have an accident.”
She kept staring toward the northern shore, expecting a military Jeep to appear.
Six o’clock. Seven. The sun hung lower.
Smoke made her glance toward Fernando’s trailer, where his wife prepared a meal in the charcoal pit. Afraid of the military, she had remained inside for a long time after Ramirez had left. When she finally came out, she had stopped her children from approaching the trailer and had cast suspicious glances toward it.
“She thinks we brought trouble,” Chase said.
“We’re about to bring more.”
“I hear an engine.”
A motorboat appeared, getting larger, Fernando working the rudder.
“Thank God,” Sienna said.
They ran to the beach as Fernando steered into shore. Chase waded in to help him, dragging the boat onto the sand. By now, Sienna had learned enough Spanish that she understood when Chase told him, “We were worried about you.”
But Fernando’s reply was too rapid, and she needed Chase to explain that Fernando had been delayed because of a meeting in Santa Clara with the company to which he sold his fish.
As Fernando set an anchor to keep the boat from floating away during high tide, he frowned toward his somber wife, who approached from the shelter. “What’s wrong?” he asked in Spanish.
Fernando frowned harder when his wife described the visit from the military. Fernando’s confusion became dismay when Chase explained that he and Sienna wanted to rent his boat, take it down to Puerto Peñasco, and leave it there for him to retrieve.
“No.” Fernando’s wife held up her hands.
“I’ll give you five hundred dollars,” Chase said.
“No!”
“Seven hundred.”
“No!”
The woman tugged Fernando toward their trailer.
“A thousand.”
It was probably more money than Fernando had ever seen at one time. He blurted something before his wife hustled him inside.
“He says he’ll try to talk to her,” Chase told Sienna.
“He’d better do more than try.” Sienna stared again toward the northern shore. Although the sunset was less brilliant, there was still enough light to see if any vehicles were coming. “If he doesn’t want to rent it to us, we’ll take the damned thing. I won’t spend the night here.”
“I’ll tempt them with more cash,” Malone said.
“Give it all to them. Just so we get out of here.”
They crossed the sand to the trailer. From outside, they heard Fernando and his wife arguing. When Chase knocked on the door, the wife shouted, “Go away!”
But Chase opened the door anyhow and stepped in, noticing the frightened looks of the children.
“Translate for me,” Sienna said.
She tried to explain how afraid she was that her husband would find her.
The wife put her hands over her ears.
“To hell with her,” Sienna said. “Distract them while I get the knapsacks and put them in the boat.”
She hurried outside. Clouds obscured the sunset as she ran to their trailer, yanked open the screen door, and reached for the knapsacks.
A hand shot from the shadows, grabbing her arm.
17
“Good evening, Mrs. Perry.”
Ramirez dragged her into the gloom of the trailer. As tight as his hand was on her arm, she felt a greater tightness in her throat, a sensation of being strangled.
“Or should I call you Mrs. Bellasar?”
“What are you talking about?” she managed to say, her voice hoarse.
Facing her, Ramirez twisted her arm behind her back. Making her wince, he drew her close to him. “You don’t need to be afraid. I haven’t told anybody about you.” He pressed her against him. “I did a computer search. I learned your real names. I learned that the CIA is looking for you. But don’t worry. I broke contact. Your secret is mine.” He put his other arm around her. “But what is the secret? Why is the CIA looking for you? What would you do to reward me for not reporting that I’d found you?”