Authors: Barbara Phinney
The lab assistant spoke in rapid Spanish. The doctor sniffed the vial and spoke to the constable. Then he turned to Tay and Dawna. "Perhaps he
was
murdered. This tea also has
perifollo
in it."
Dawna shook her head. "I don't know what that is."
The assistant retrieved a Spanish-English dictionary, and found the word. "Chervil. A cooking herb."
She looked at Tay. "I'm not much of a cook, I'm afraid. I still don't know what it is."
"I think it's like parsley," Tay said. "But it tastes like licorice."
The doctor nodded. "
Si
, chervil would disguise the taste of the
tuchuchaw."
"So he might not have known what he was eating?" Dawna asked.
"Worse than that.
Perifollo
also has a great deal of potassium in it. He may not have known he was being poisoned." The doctor handed the vial back to the assistant. "I'll confirm this theory with some more tests. And inform you." He repeated the words to the local constable.
The constable nodded to them and left. Tay knew there was no point in speaking with him. Neither he nor Dawna were fluent enough in Spanish to ask if this meant a civilian murder investigation would begin.
"I wish Ramos hadn't decided to take the day off," Dawna announced when they were finally outside and the body and samples were secured. "He speaks better English than some of the interpreters we have."
Tay inhaled the hot city air. "Any idea where he is?"
She shook her head. "I plan to call him after I pull his file. I'll ask Marconi to call the
policia
to see if they plan to investigate this any further."
Tay squinted as he scanned the busy street. "In this city? I doubt that they'd put a lot of time into it."
"I know. Not even the fact he was a suspect in the bombing of an embassy would change that much. I imagine they'd simply see it as a blessing he died and close the case." She checked her watch. "Let's go down to the police station, anyway. They may have located Cabanelos' wife."
Tay caught her arm as she turned away. For a moment, he wasn't even sure he could say anything, but forced the words out nonetheless. "Dawna, we need to talk."
She looked up at his face, her own suddenly an expressionless mask. "About what?"
Everything
, he wanted to say. About how close they came to kissing last night and how he refused to blame the desire on the altitude. She would, he wagered to himself.
There was also the urge to tell her what had really happened after she was disciplined by her Commanding Officer. He wanted her to know how he'd slammed his fist down on the CO's desk when the man refused to accept that Tay was fully responsible.
He wanted to tell Dawna about the resignation he threw at them the next day, and all he'd done since then.
But standing outside, getting jostled by the never ending crowd of people, he paused. He couldn't say a word about his life these past three years. Not even someone with Dawna's security clearance was privy to his assignments.
The thought ate at him. He needed Dawna to trust him, but how could he expect that? He couldn't even tell her that he'd quit his job. The whole charade of keeping him 'on staff' was so very carefully created for the protection of several CIA agents, all in sensitive areas around the world. If the embassy bombing had something to do with the drug cartel, those CIA agents could be in danger. The case in which he'd worked involved high-level drug smuggling.
Tay pulled in his breath, thinking fast for something to say. "Dawna, what did Ramos tell you?" If he couldn't tell her what he wanted to say, he could at least try to earn the trust he'd destroyed three years ago. Perhaps they could start something again.
Dawna's lips tightened. "Nothing. Only that he wasn't coming in this morning." She turned away.
Tay knew the note said more. He'd worked as an operative with the CIA, with people who'd turned lying into an art form. And he knew Dawna was lying to him.
"That was it? No explanation?"
"No explanation. Let's go." Dawna started down the street, presumably toward the closest police station.
Tay cursed inwardly. She had read the note and used the phone, calling someone named Jeff. And she'd cut it all off when her gaze had locked with his.
He caught up with her. There was no point in confronting her. Besides, he couldn't blame her. In her mind, he'd betrayed her.
All he could do was try to earn her trust again.
They reached an intersection, one filled with dark-haired locals and even the ever-present stray dogs. She grabbed his hand. "Come on, we have to be quick." She dashed across the street, darting between honking cars that had jammed up for some reason.
Tay followed, realizing as he joined the brave pedestrians, that even if he told her the truth now, she'd still see what he'd done as a betrayal. He hadn't objected enough to the CO's decision. He didn't have to accept the operative job. He didn't have to turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble.
Tay slammed into an elderly man and releasing Dawna, he grabbed him before he fell. "Sorry," he muttered, before scooting around to catch up with Dawna.
Inside the police station, they found the constable who'd attended the autopsy. With help from a secretary who spoke English, Dawna asked the man to locate Cabanelos' wife. The officer agreed to try.
"Are you going to investigate this death as a murder?" she also asked.
Through the translator, the officer said, "There are many murders here. We have no proof he tried to kill you or if he was murdered. He could have used
perifollo
as a mask, knowing he was drinking the tea that could kill him. It happens sometimes. He shrugged. "All I can promise you is I will find his wife so she can claim the body. Do not worry, I will question her, too."
"Thank you." Dawna glanced at Tay, her expression filled with frustration. "I guess we may as well go back to the embassy. I'd like to dig out Ramos' file."
They left, and for a moment, Dawna stood on the sidewalk, ignoring the people moving around her.
Abruptly, the squeal of tires rent the hectic sounds of the city. Tay whirled, grabbing Dawna and backing her up close to the grimy building beside them. The sound of a sickening crash followed. Someone shouted, people around them stopped and gaped.
Tay kept Dawna pressed against the outside wall of the station. A horn blared, someone screamed.
He spun back around. A small, blue Toyota pickup had barreled into a larger Fiat truck in the street only yards away. The driver of the Fiat screamed curses at the Toyota driver, who ignored him as he scanned and searched the crowd.
The guy's gaze collided with Tay's.
Behind him, Dawna gasped. Tay stared hard at the driver, a young man with brown hair and an athletic build.
"It's Martin! That's his truck!" Dawna whispered, pushing Tay forward. He pressed her to him, preventing her from bolting into the stalled traffic.
The Fiat driver grabbed the younger man. Martin lifted his arm, and some woman shrieked.
Martin had a handgun. In that split second, Tay pulled out his own gun. The Fiat driver jumped back, hands in the air. But, horribly, a passing car hit him head on.
With the entire street now in chaos, Martin glanced back to Tay, then turned and surged into the melee of people and vehicles.
Tay shot forward, but watched uselessly as the man disappeared into the thick crowd.
Shoving past Tay, Dawna scanned the street, but couldn't see Martin. It had to be him! The truck was identical. The license plate was hidden behind the throng of stopped cars and boisterous people, but it had to be him. And that Fiat driver? The car that had hit him was stopped, and the crowd swelled in toward the injured man.
But where was Martin?
Tay grabbed her arm and steered her away from the crash as police bolted from the station to answer the emergency. "Let's get out of here before that guy with the gun returns."
She let him lead her away, concerned by the anxious tone to his words. As soon as they were around the corner, he asked, "What's closer? The embassy or your apartment?"
She wanted to tell him the embassy, but somehow, the lie wouldn't form on her tongue. She pointed to street ahead. "My apartment, but it's quite a distance." She grabbed him. "Tay, do you know something I should know?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing. That driver stared right at you. Why?"
"He looked right at you!"
"You are the one who said his name." His hand wrapping around hers, Tay hurried them through the crowd in the direction she'd pointed. Dawna had no choice but to quicken her pace and concentrate on avoiding the other pedestrians. Going to her apartment wasn't the best idea, but suddenly, the urgent need to get off the street hit her hard. Martin was out here, close and armed.
Fifteen minutes of fast walking and some sprinting later, they turned down another street and entered a battered, low-rise apartment.
"Home sweet home," she muttered, unlocking the door to her upper floor apartment.
Tay followed her in, then shut and locked the door. For a moment, they stood there, panting with exertion. "Who was that driver?" Tay asked. "Who is Martin?"
"I don't know."
Tay folded his arms. "Let me rephrase the question. Who do you think the driver was?"
She hesitated. She should have more information on this Joseph Martin before she voiced her concerns, but they were supposed to be partners. She'd already decided that much.
"Tell me," Tay demanded, still staring hard at her. "How the hell are we supposed to work together?"
"I was thinking the same thing." She seethed back taking offense to his tone. She'd tell him if he would just give her a chance. "I think it was a man named Joseph Martin. According to the car rental agency, he's an American who recently came here from Buenos Aires. A friend of mine at the American embassy there says Joseph Martin is CIA." She stepped closer to Tay. "Any idea why he's been following us?"
Shock danced briefly over his face. "CIA? Are you sure?"
"Not one hundred percent, but pretty damn close. Now, let me rephrase the question. Do you know of any reason why Martin would follow either of us?"
The bland expression returned. "I have no idea."
She brushed past him, turning her attention to her tiny galley kitchen, unable to ignore her empty stomach any longer. "Look, I should have enough food here for supper, since I don't really feel like going out. Interested?"
"Sure." He sounded distracted.
She dug through her freezer for the frozen lasagna she knew she'd bought ages ago. After she found it and scratched off the frost, she slipped the foil box into her small oven. Straightening, she noticed Tay had stepped out onto her balcony. He was speaking on the embassy's cell phone that he'd yet to return.
Who was he calling? Joseph Martin? His message service?