Read Deadly Little Lies Online
Authors: Jeanne Adams
Deadly Little Lies (25 page)
“Bouncing throwaway cell. Someone faxed us here, saying they had info.”
“How the hell did someone know you were there?” Geddey demanded. “Hell, I don't even have the fax number for the damn place.”
“I've stopped asking,” Ana said wearily. “This is more complicated than a plate of Silly String. Too many loose ends, too many colors, too many sticky parts.” She took a deep breath, trying not to take her frustration out on “the new guy.” “We flush that mole we discussed, we may figure that out. If we call this number, when they say, we may get the mole or we may get more gooses to chase.”
“Let me know.” It was a demand, not a request.
She suppressed the irritation she immediately felt. Geddey had the tough job. He was waiting. And if Dav was dead, he had no job. Pretty much sucked all the way around.
“Will do,” she finally acknowledged.
Geddey had a parting shot of his own. “Oh, by the way, Declan woke up.”
Chapter 16
Dav woke to the sound of chirping birds. He smiled. He hadn't heard that sound outside his bedroom window since he was little. Before she'd become ill, before she'd lost his little sister, Dav's mother had loved to open the windows at night, let the soft air of evening in to cool the house. In Athens, the nights would cool down enough to open the house in the spring and fall. She would come in sometimes, he remembered now, and tell him which of the birds were singing. Their Latin names would roll musically off her tongue, along with their names in Greek and English. He still remembered some of them, but even as he tried to remember, he felt Carrie stir.
Carrie.
Birds.
Freedom.
He abruptly sat up, and Carrie jumped. “What?” she said, peering at him.
His eyes open, with the morning upon them, he realized he could see without the flashlight. “Carrie, the light. The birds.”
She looked startled, listening, and turned toward the light. Together they peered into the gap. Old bones lay beyond them, but they looked like animal bones, well gnawed. A musky odor wafted their way in the warming air. Cat, maybe. A big one.
Carrie scrambled to her feet and, turning sideways, tried to get through the gap. It took her three tries, and on the last attempt, sucking in her breath, she managed to squeeze through. He heard the tearing sound of cloth and as she stumbled into the other cave, he could see that even though she wore his T-shirt, wrinkly and crumpled from wear and sleep, it now had a huge rent in the back of it.
She went to her knees and he reached out. “Carrie? Darling? Are you okay?”
He saw her nod.
“I'm just catching my breath. That was a tight squeeze and the ground here is uneven.” She turned back and he saw anguish in her eyes. “Dav, there's a way out.”
“Yes!” he exulted as she moved forward, toward the vines and the light. “Excellent.” He said with fierce delight. “Can you see anything? Can you see a village?”
She shook her head. “I can't see anything but jungle. Dav,” she said, moving back to him. “I barely got through. There's no way you'll be able to squeeze out.”
He had already realized this, when he saw the tear on the T-shirt. But she would escape. That was the important thing.
“I know this, Carrie-mou,” he reassured her, reaching through the gap to touch her face. “I will wait here for you. You will find help, come back for me.”
She shook her head, her cheek soft against his rough palm. “It's too risky, trying to find this place, this opening. I think ...” She hesitated, then plowed on with what she obviously found hard to say. “I think you should go back to the cell.”
“Back?” The thought of traversing the tunnels, returning to the cell, was not only unpalatable, he wasn't sure he could make it with a fever-clouded mind, and alone in the dark.
Before he could protest aloud, she barreled on. “I think I can find the clearing, following the way we came down the tunnels and ... and ...” She could tell he wasn't happy, but she continued, his brave Carrie. “If you can get to the cell and I can get to the clearing, then I can shoot off the lock, put down the ladder and get you out that way.”
When he started to protest, she overrode the words. “Dav, if this is Mexico or Guatemala or any of the Central American countries, no one will listen to a woman, especially an American woman, and it won't be safe for me to go try and find help. You can say that's all changed and it's the twenty-first century, but not out in the countryside or boonies or wherever the hell we are.”
He realized that her point was well taken. It was very possible that harm would come to her as she attempted to get help.
“You may be right,” he conceded, and he saw her shoulders slump in relief at his agreement. “You believe you can find the clearing?”
“I think so. If I can get out of the cave going straight up, then I think I can just return to where the center cave was, then turn a little left, then go straight to the clearing.”
“I hate to be grim, but you will probably be able to follow the buzzards as well.”
“Nasty, but true,” she said, her features wreathed in distaste.
“Let us think this through,” he cautioned. “Too many things can go wrong. First, you should go to the cave mouth again, see if you can actually get out. Go and see what you see. I will wait until you come back to tell me, yes?”
“That sounds good. It sounds smart,” she said, giving him a small smile. “I can't believe I'm out. I want you out too.” She stood up, brushing at her clothes. “Sit tight, okay?”
“I will do this,” he said, watching her go. She pushed through the vines and he saw her stumble, then right herself and begin to climb up out of the narrow opening. When he saw the sun glinting on her dark hair, he knew she was going to be free, she would make it. A huge weight lifted off his heart, knowing that she would survive, even if he did not. She was so strong, so determined.
She would make it. He must tell her, he thought, trying to organize his tired thoughts, that he wanted to marry her.
He couldn't judge the time, but it didn't seem long before she was back, scrambling into the cave on her hands and knees. Her smile was excited and positive.
“Ah, there you are, my flame,” he said with a smile, standing up to greet her. “Returned from your jaunt, have you?” he joked.
“I can see the buzzards circling, and I think I saw the roof of the building. There isn't a lot of tall vegetation up there.” She used one foot to scratch the opposite ankle. “There's some kind of biting bug though. Really itchy.”
“I'm glad you could see the way. If I am to go through these dratted tunnels without you, it will help me to know that you will be there, when I find my way.” He said it as if he were sure he could make it, although he wasn't entirely confident.
“Hereâ” She held out her hand for her purse. “Take some more aspirin before you start out, and drink the rest of the water. I didn't see a stream or anything up there,” she pointed upward. “But you can refill in the water cave as you go by. Drink lots of water as you go. That fever is dangerous.”
“I feel better,” he lied, but took the proffered pills and unscrewed the canteen. “But still not well,” he admitted when she gave him a look that patently said she didn't believe him. As he raised his injured hand, holding the canteen, he felt the broken finger throb. At rest, it hadn't hurt, but now it throbbed like he'd hit it over and over with a hammer.
When he had drunk his fill, he handed the second, full canteen through the gap. When she'd set the cord that held it over her shoulder, he handed through her purse, and the all-purpose tool. Then he handed her the weapon. He'd been able to clean it a bit more, but he was still unsure whether it would fire properly.
“Come close, Carrie, and let me show you the safety and the things you need to know about this weapon,” he said, holding it up, testing the strap with both hands to be sure it would hold as she climbed.
He pointed out the small safety lever and the gap where the magazine connected. It was loose, so he told her to make sure it was snugly seated before she fired.
“I hope the only time I have to fire it is to shoot off the lock and get you out.”
“I do too,” he reassured her. “I do too.”
He knew he still needed to say his piece to Carrie. So many things could happen between this point and getting back to the cell. He could fall again, or miss a step and meet Hades as he'd joked earlier.
“Carrie, I must tell you some things,” he said, slipping her hand through the gap to press a kiss on her bruised and skinned knuckles. “I had planned to ask you to be my wife,” he blurted out, knowing he needed to do it before she could say anything else.
Shock suffused her face. “Your wife?” Her voice rose on the second word. “Me?”
He didn't know whether to be amused or hurt by the shock. “Yes. We have known one another for a long time now, and I think we have proven that we are attracted to one another.” He sighed. “Carrie, I had not thought to mention it for some time. I have, however, thought it for quite a while now. Of course, I had not thought to end up in the jungle, in a series of tunnels with traps, with dead mercenaries above us, and impassable entrances and exits before us at every step.”
“But, Dav, you're... you're...” she stopped, at a loss for words. He had no idea what she had decided he was, but she was obviously not interested. His gut burned with pain. Perhaps he should have continued to date the models and seekers of safe harbors. Apparently, he should not have attempted to find a wife who understood him.
“I am a man, Carrie-mou. Nothing more. Especially now.” He let go of her hand, eased back. “I will work my way through the tunnels and meet you at the cell.”
“Dav, I just meantâ” she said, then stopped. She didn't reach out, try to regain his touch, and that spoke volumes to him. “I just meant that I'm not marriage material. And I don't think I would ever want to be second place in anyone's life again.” Her voice was pleading, quiet.
“I would not put you second,” he stated, knowing it was true.
She shook her head. “You wouldn't be able to help yourself. You haven't said you love me,” she said softly. “Work would be your wife and mistress and what would I be?”
“I would be faithful, I would treat you with care and respect,” he defended, feeling the burn in his gut spread.
He could see the tears in her eyes. They made his stomach burn harder, deeper.
“I know you would, Dav.” She shifted the weapon, looked at the ground. Evidently she didn't have anything else to say.
“Then it is settled,” he said heavily, striving for some semblance of decorum. He would not beg any woman, or man, for anything. “I will go back through the tunnels.” The smile was difficult to muster, but he managed it. “I will race you there.”
She smiled as well, and her tear-streaked face would live in his memory forever, along with all the other snapshots of her that he carried there. “Ready, set, go,” she said, turning away, the weapon still cradled in her arms.
Dav waited until she had crawled out of the cave once more before he gathered the few other things they'd been carrying and turned to his own journey. Nothing would test him more than this.
“God,” he said, addressing the deity he believed in, but had not spoken with very often. “See that she gets home alive.”
It was all he would say. For now.
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Niko stirred when the phone rang. It was barely dawn, but he had slept only fitfully, so it didn't matter.
“Yes?”
“You will wait until a new team arrives.” The order was clear, and it was his mentor; he recognized the voice. If anyone could make sense of this, make sure he got his revenge and got out of Belize to enjoy it, it would be this man.
“Done. Where?”
“Where you are. Longitude and latitude?”
He checked his map, estimated, and gave the coordinates.
Sam watched him, a wary look in his eyes. When he hung up he addressed it. “What? We got no backup.”
Niko nodded and said, “Yeah, there's backup coming. A new team.” He hesitated, but Sam was the only member of his own team still alive. If he didn't trust Sam ... “Here's the deal, though. We don't work for this guy, not payroll. We're hired guns.”
“Exactly,” Sam said, jabbing a finger toward the phone. “How do we know we're not sitting ducks for whoever did that?” He jerked his head in the direction of the now-distant campsite, the massacre. “Som'thin' ain't right here, compadre. And it isn't our team comin'. They had our backs, right down the line. We don't know these people.”
Niko stopped the hot denial that sprang to his lips. Sam might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he wasn't stupid either. His common sense had saved them, time and time again.
“You may be right,” Niko said. “The more I think about it, the more I don't like it.” He scanned the dark jungle, wondering who was watching, who might be listening.
If it was a double cross, why? If it was a rescue mission, why have them stay put?
“We'll move out, get somewhere with a little distance.”
Sam started the car, but didn't turn on the lights. “Up or down?”
“Up, toward Guatemala. We've got some contacts there if this goes to hell.”
Sam nodded at the directions, but muttered, “Don't know how much farther toward hell it's gotta get, 'fore we bail,” as he whipped the Jeep around in the road. Only when he'd eased a few feet down the tarmac did he turn on the running lights, not turning on the full headlights until he'd crept on for at least a mile.
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