“We’re already hurrying.”
Toulouse chuckled, then turned serious eyes on Tansy. “Hey, maybe he can help you out of your mess.”
Tansy smiled, and then started to laugh, joy bubbling up and overflowing as she scurried after Toulouse.
Thank You, Jesus
. God was well aware of where she was, who she was, and He was altogether in control of her situation.
Toulouse arched one elegant brow. “Something funny?”
“No. I’m sorry. I’m just happy to have met you. God does hear our prayers.”
Toulouse raised one elegant black brow. “OK, that’s a given, as far as I’m concerned. Let’s get food and go home.”
They stopped at an open-air market, where Toulouse bartered for her pick of avocados, the biggest grapes Tansy had ever seen, and some bananas. They stopped again at a café for take-out bouillabaisse—fish soup that smelled delicious but looked awful.
At Toulouse’s apartment, the booming bark of a large dog echoed behind the door.
“That’s Germaine. He’s relatively harmless, but let me go inside first.” Toulouse handed the bags of food to Tansy and unlocked the door.
Tansy had no intention of intercepting the source of the vicious bark, so she stepped back and watched Toulouse be bowled over by a half-grown German shepherd upon opening the door. The dog pinned her to the floor and licked her face with abandon. She shoved at the canine, barking her own commands in Spanish and English. He dropped back on his haunches, tongue lolling to one side.
Toulouse got off the floor and turned to Tansy. “Germaine, this is Tansy, she’s a friend. Shake.”
Germaine lifted one paw. Tansy reached out her hand with caution. The dog dropped his furry paw into her palm, and Tansy smiled. She’d always wanted a dog to bond with, to share her secrets with. “He’s precious,” Tansy murmured.
“He’s a pill, but he’s an effective security system in this neighborhood, so I put up with him.” Toulouse rubbed the shepherd’s ears with an affection that belied her brusque tone.
The apartment was small, efficient, and ruthlessly tidy, in spite of the dog.
Toulouse arranged the meal on a tiny table set for three, moving back and forth between the small galley-style kitchen and the dining area. A knock on the door had Germaine barking again. Toulouse held the dog by the collar as she opened the door.
Tansy stood behind a chair at the table, suddenly nervous.
“Tansy, this is my Uncle David. Uncle David, this is Tansy. I found her at the cathedral today. I think you might be able to help her out, but let’s eat before we talk, I’m starved.”
Toulouse’s uncle, a distinguished-looking man with a full head of silver-white hair, grinned at his niece, then turned to Tansy. “It’s nice to meet you, Tansy. We’ll have to feed Toulouse before we can get anything else done. She gets…what’s that nonsense word you use?”
“
Hangry
,” Toulouse replied over her shoulder. She dragged Germaine into another room, out of sight. A moment later she reappeared, shutting a door behind her. “It means I lose my temper when I’m hungry. Hungry, plus angry, equals hangry. So let’s eat.”
They sat at the table and Toulouse bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, bless our bread and water, and take sickness from our midst. I pray for my sister, Tansy, and ask You to keep Your hand upon her as she travels, to guide her every step, and to bring her into the fullness of Your perfect, divine plan for her life. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
Tansy murmured “amen,” as did David.
Toulouse’s bold faith reminded Tansy very much of Eva.
Toulouse picked up a spoon and plunged it into one of the containers of soup as if she hadn’t eaten in days. “Fast metabolism,” she muttered around a mouthful of fish. “So, tell us your tale.”
Tansy hesitated, looking from Toulouse to David, and back into her bowl of soup. How much could she divulge to them without defying Eva’s stern instructions to tell no one about the walking stick?
Lord Jesus, help me.
With her mouth gone dry as chalk, Tansy shared what she thought she safely could, beginning with the theft of her traveler’s checks, then her rescue by Sebastian MacKenna, the church service, then visiting the Parque Forestal and Los Dominicos, to the abduction and car accident with Diego Vargas and her narrow escape.
Toulouse and David put down their spoons.
“Did you say the man who abducted you was named Vargas?” David asked.
Tansy nodded. “Diego Vargas. Why?”
David dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “Would you ladies excuse me? I need to make a call.” He rose and went out the front door.
“And I thought my life was exciting,” Toulouse said.
Tansy groaned. “Mine’s too exciting. I really just want to find Sebastian. Do you think your uncle can help me?”
The door opened again, and David crossed the room at a brisk pace. He placed his hands on the back of his chair and looked at Tansy.
****
Tansy’s heart pounded. Had she made a terrible mistake?
“Well, my dear, it would appear you have stumbled into a messy situation,” David dipped his head in a diplomatic gesture even Tansy recognized.
She pressed her napkin to her lips, feeling as if she’d been sucked into an alternate universe. If David was correct, and she had no reason to doubt him, Diego and his family were under investigation for a multitude of crimes.
After a few phone calls, David had ascertained that Diego and Andreas were both in the hospital, in serious but stable condition, and the police were looking for the unknown female who had run away from the scene of the accident.
“That would be you?” David asked.
“I’m afraid so.” Tansy pulled her hands into her lap and drew her knees up against her chest. Whether Diego knew she had the walking stick or not, he made her nervous.
David drummed his neatly manicured fingers on the tabletop. “Why do you think Diego picked you out of the crowd at Los Dominicos?”
Tansy swallowed, hard. She was convinced Diego had been searching for the walking stick during his trip to Colorado. But if she told David and Toulouse about that, she would break her trust with Eva.
She looked from one earnest face to the other. Could she trust them? Did she have a choice? She could either trust them, or trust Sebastian, who was definitely linked to Diego—the man who had kidnapped her and nearly killed her.
Lord, it’s in Your hands.
“Diego is related to Sebastian MacKenna, the gentleman who helped me after I was robbed at the airport.”
“Related? Why would you think they’re related?” David’s fingers thrummed against the table in a nervous gesture that rattled the silverware.
Toulouse reached over and clapped her fingers over his, stilling his motion. “Would you relax? You're going to freak Tansy out.”
Tansy glanced at her new friend and flashed a grateful smile. “Well, they—Diego and Sebastian—look a lot alike, for one thing. And Diego called Sebastian ‘mi primo’ at the restaurant, and Sebastian said Diego was his cousin.”
Toulouse and David exchanged a glance.
“Seriously?” Toulouse murmured.
“I knew Diego had a cousin,” David replied. “A cousin named Sebastian.” He flicked a crumb from his tie.
“A gorgeous, wealthy cousin,” Toulouse sighed. Then she reached across the table and covered Tansy’s hand with her own in a warm squeeze. “But his last name isn’t MacKenna. It’s Sandoval.”
****
Sebastian was surprised to see Ben on the other side of his doorway.
“I thought you were in Osorno.”
“I said I was headed home.” Ben stepped inside, removing his cap. “Sebastian? You remember me saying that deception never ends well?”
“Where is she, Ben? I’ll straighten it all out, I will, but first I have to find her.”
“Diego and that vile friend of his were in an accident. They’re both in hospital. Witnesses said they saw a woman escape from the crash and run away, but no one has seen her since.”
Sebastian groaned. Could it get worse?
His cell phone rang, and he scanned the screen. Abuelo. Again.
“You should take that.” Ben’s expression answered Sebastian’s unspoken question.
Yes, it could get worse.
He answered the call.
11
Tansy huddled under a quilt in a white wicker chair in Toulouse’s bedroom, rattled by the outcome of her meeting with Toulouse’s uncle.
He’d stepped out to make a phone call, and when he returned, he murmured something to Toulouse and left without another word for Tansy.
A sense of unreality muddled Tansy's thoughts. Sebastian, the man who’d come to her rescue, was the very man she’d been sent to Chile to find. She shook her head, unable to process it all.
Toulouse came to her, dark eyes wide. Taking her hands, Toulouse pulled her over to her computer. “You need to see something,” she said, and opened a video taken at a charity event hosted by Sandoval Industries.
Sebastian MacKenna stood behind the microphone extolling the virtues of the foundation his company was donating funds to, only he wasn’t Sebastian MacKenna. He was Sebastian Sandoval.
Tansy watched him, looking handsome and urbane as he introduced his grandfather, Eduardo Sandoval. She gasped. Eduardo was none other than the kindly old man from the leather goods shop at Los Dominicos. The man who was supposed to be the recipient of the walking stick.
Toulouse held her while she sobbed.
The realization that Sebastian had lied to her about everything, and that his grandfather had been complicit in that deception, battered Tansy’s self-confidence. She’d been so gullible, so trusting. Meanwhile, he’d been toying with her, probably playing a well-practiced pattern of deception for his own entertainment: one, find an unsuspecting
tourista
; two, don’t tell her your real name; and three, charm her and tease her and tempt her into falling in love...
She wasn’t falling in love with him. She wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Hadn't.
Toulouse sighed and sat back, legs crossed at the ankles. “So what’s next for you? Now that you’ve given your statement, I expect you’ll want to head out on the next flight to the States.”
Tansy flinched. No, she couldn’t leave right away. She still had to satisfy her commitment to Eva and turn over the wretched walking stick to its rightful owner as promised. Only then would she be free of the Sandovals.
“Toulouse? I need to meet with Sebastian’s grandfather. Can you help me?”
****
Sebastian accelerated. Tansy was safe. That was all that mattered. He could explain everything else,
if
she gave him a chance. She had to give him a chance. He could no longer imagine his future without Tansy in it. At least not a future he wanted.
He checked the map on his phone, and then had to slam on the brakes to avoid one of Santiago’s thousands of street dogs. Abuelo had called to tell him the U.S. ambassador’s office had found Tansy, thanks to a random meeting with a staff member’s niece.
Random, ha!
Sebastian didn’t think he’d ever attribute any event to random coincidence again. Not only had Tansy managed to run into someone with the right connections to protect her from Diego, Sebastian knew the young woman.
He’d met Toulouse at a party at the ambassador’s residence. She’d fallen into a fountain trying to capture her recalcitrant puppy.
Sebastian pulled her out, then corralled her dog. Both soggy and smelling of wet canine, they’d shared dinner in the ambassador’s kitchen that night. Sebastian had enjoyed her light-hearted company and her bold faith. When he heard her name mentioned in connection to Tansy tonight, he cajoled Toulouse’s address out of a mutual friend.
He parked outside an apartment building in one of Santiago’s older, dignified neighborhoods. When he got out of his car, the doors of a black limousine parked in front of him swung open and three black-suited men got out and flashed badges. Sebastian stopped, held out his hands, and the ambassador’s familiar head appeared.
“Sebastian, I thought you’d show up here eventually. If you would give me a moment of your time.” It wasn’t a request. He motioned toward the car. “I don’t think your presence will be welcome upstairs right now anyway.”
Sebastian suppressed a groan and climbed into the limo. “I’m a bit surprised to see you here, Ambassador.”
“I’ve taken a personal interest in this matter for quite some time.” The ambassador drummed his fingertips across the armrest. “Do you believe your uncle and your cousin should be implicated in the wrongful arrest and subsequent deaths of your maternal grandfather and your own father?”
Sebastian ignored the shiver that ran down his spine and wished, for the umpteenth time, that he’d given heed to the words in his mother’s diary. Why had he allowed himself to believe that her suspicions were just the bitter, angry ramblings of an unhappy woman? “Yes, sir. If I’d been paying more attention, I would have investigated the matter further myself.”
“It’s probably a good thing you didn’t. According to our records”—the ambassador leaned forward, his voice low—“your father’s arrest, imprisonment, and death occurred not long after he started asking questions, based on his wife’s suspicions.”
That was news to Sebastian. No wonder Darcy had been so frantic to leave the country. With her father and husband missing and presumed dead, she would have been well aware of the danger to herself—and to her son. Trying to take him with her would have seemed impossible, whereas a single woman traveling alone would have an easier time disappearing into the United States.
“You’ll have full access to my mother’s journal, sir. I’m just not sure anything in it will be admissible in court.”
“Whatever information we find will be frosting on the cake, so to speak. I’ve been looking into this case for some time.”
“How long?”
“Since your grandfather asked me to check into it, several years ago. It is my sincere desire that we’ll be able to bring about justice for Eva St. John before the end of her life.”