The Fall of Maggie Brown (5 page)

“Why?”

“Corruption, poverty, you name it. Generalissimo Cabral knows how to run a country efficiently. Keep the people too hungry and downtrodden to do anything but try to survive.”

She looked at his cynical expression. “You sound like a revolutionary yourself, Frazer.”

“Not me, Maggie. It ain’t my country, and I’m not about to risk my neck for it.”

“Then why are you here? What brought you to San Pablo in the first place?”

“You want to hear the story of my misspent life, Maggie? I’m flattered. I didn’t think you gave a damn about me.”

“I don’t.” She wouldn’t look at his face, so she concentrated on his hands as he held the steering wheel, far too loosely given the state of the roads. He really had beautiful hands. Long, long fingers, narrow palms, no rings. For all she knew he was married. And why the hell would it matter if he was?

“Then why are you asking?”

“Forget it. It was brought on by a fit of boredom. How long will it take till we get to Las Palmas?”

“Depends on the condition of the road and how many times we’re stopped.”

“Stopped? By whom?”

“Damn, I don’t know if I’ve ever heard someone say ‘whom’ before in my life,” he said in mock admiration. “You sure know how to make a feller feel like a peasant.”

“Frazer, you are a peasant,” she said. “Who’s going to stop us?”

“The national army, bandits, revolutionaries, any or all of them. Take your pick. You just keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you. I’ll keep us out of trouble, I promise you that much.”

“I thought you promised me more. I thought you promised me my sister.”

“So I did, sugar. We’ll find your sister no matter how long it takes.”

“I can’t afford to have it take long. My mother’s gravely ill. Not to mention the fact that I have a job. My plane is leaving Las Palmas in six days time. If we haven’t found Stella by then I’m just going to have to go back without her.”

“You could always go back now. Return to your poor mother’s side, not to mention the bank, and when I find Stella I’ll ship her home to you.”

“And I’m supposed to trust you to do this?” Maggie asked. “I don’t think so. I wasn’t born yesterday, Frazer. I’m not going to hand you a chunk of money and free rein. You’re going to take me to find my sister.”

“Suit yourself, sugar,” he said, pressing down on the accelerator so that the Jeep bucked again. “In the meantime, you better prepare yourself. It might be wiser if we shared a hotel room. It’s none too safe where I’m taking you.”

“Then why don’t we stay in a better place?”

“Because the pimps and the informers and assorted other bad guys don’t hang out in the better places, Maggie,” he said patiently.

“I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine. I’m used to traveling on my own all over the world.”

“Ever been to a place like San Pablo? Because until you have, you don’t know squat.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” she said again, her voice getting testy.

“Chill,
señorita.
Just trying to be of service,” he said. “Besides, you’ve got a good strong voice.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’ll just come when I hear your scream.”

And he gave her a charming grin.

* * *

E
L
G
ALLITO HAD NO IDEA WHY
Frazer was taking the American woman the most circuitous route he could find, but there was no doubt he was heading north toward Las Palmas. It had been easy enough to ask a few questions of the people who worked for Señora Campos, and he hadn’t had to approach the old lady himself. Just as well. She reminded him of his grandmother, and he still harbored a superstitious fear of the old lady, decades after she’d died from a fit of bad temper.

It made life easier for him. No need to keep pace behind Frazer’s Jeep, bouncing over some of the worst roads in San Pablo. He could take a short cut, wind up in Las Palmas hours ahead of time and be lying in wait by the time they showed up.

There was always the chance the woman would insist on heading to a better part of town, but El Gallito was putting his money on Frazer. He’d tuck the two of them somewhere in the Old Town, where he could keep an eye on her.

The question was, why had he gone north at all? The boy who worked at Señora Campos’s had told him that Frazer had informed the girl they were heading south to the lake region, and the young man had taken one look into Gallito’s eyes and wouldn’t have dared to babble anything less than the truth.

But he’d gone north anyway, leaving him no choice but to follow.

There was no way The Professor was in Las Palmas—Cabral would have heard and made short work of him. The only reason the man had survived so long was that he was in hiding, out of reach of Cabral’s military executioners and his handpicked goons. Out of reach of everyone except the best of the best. El Gallito Loco.

Ben Frazer was good, good enough to have survived encounters with him in the past. But he was also a creature of habit. Chances were he’d go straight to Elena Barasos’s place for the night. If he didn’t spend the night between the American woman’s thighs then he’d head out to find a game, probably at Jaime’s or Salazar’s.

And from what he’d seen of Frazer and the woman, it didn’t seem likely they were going to spend the night between the sheets. At least, not together.

It wouldn’t take much to disguise himself. He’d be waiting at Jaime’s, and if Frazer didn’t show up he’d head on over to the Hungry Dog. Frazer wouldn’t recognize him, and the girl wouldn’t know enough to be careful. Maybe he could find the answer from her and go straight for the kill.

But life was seldom that simple for a hardworking man, El Gallito thought wearily. He was prepared to do it the hard way. For San Pablo.

For Cabral.

And mostly for himself.

CHAPTER FOUR

M
ISS
B
LANCHE
M
AGNOLIA
B
ROWN
was sound asleep in the seat beside him, no mean feat considering the state of San Pablo roads and the lack of shocks on his Jeep. She started out by faking it, probably because she didn’t want to have to talk to him anymore, but eventually it slipped into real sleep, and she curled up in the ratty front seat of his disreputable vehicle, bouncing with every jolt.

Her hair was coming out of that tight-assed little knot, curling around her forehead. And speaking of tight-assed. He was still dazed by the sight of her in that get-up she slept in. For once in his life he’d been struck dumb, unable to come up with a fast comment or a lewd remark, and damn, did that woman deserve a lewd remark. Especially considering the way she reacted to the least little comment on his part.

But the sight of her standing there in that skimpy sex kitten outfit had knocked him sideways with emotions he couldn’t even begin to sort through.

It wasn’t as if he weren’t damned well used to sex, to skimpy clothing, to any and all forms of titillation. Anyone else wearing that jungle outfit would have raised an appreciative physical response but nothing more.

But Maggie Brown hit him a lot harder than that. It was the contradiction. The touch-me-not coating of ice around her, the flinty eyes, the soft mouth, the way she had of meeting him toe-to-toe while part of her was shivering with some kind of reaction.

He couldn’t figure her out. Was she cold as ice, or vulnerable in ways that were far too tempting? He shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

He knew what he was going to do—it was much too important to get Miss Maggie Brown as far away from her missing sister as was physically possible. If he had to kidnap her, drug her, sleep with her, or dump her on the bandits’ doorstep, he had to do what needed to be done to keep her from interfering. In the end she might forgive him.

Or maybe not.

It didn’t really matter. Once everything was taken care of Miss Maggie Brown could throw any kind of hissy fit she wanted. He hit a particularly deep pothole, and she jolted awake for a brief moment, her rich brown eyes staring up at him dazedly. She closed them quickly, obviously not cheered by what she saw, and a moment later she was asleep again, or doing a good job of faking it.

She probably faked orgasms, too, he thought coolly. She probably did it with another banker, beneath the covers and in the dark of night, and thought that was all there was to life. He’d be more than happy to broaden her horizons, given half a chance.

She wasn’t going to give him half a chance, though. Sure, she had a way of looking at him when she thought he didn’t notice, but it wasn’t particularly female admiration. It was more the fascinated expression of a quivering brown mouse confronted by a hungry boa constrictor.

Six days. Six days till she got on that plane back home. He could manage to kill six days on the road in San Pablo. Mind you, it was one hell of a small country, but the roads were so awful it made travel dangerous and endless, and after living here for more than five years he knew almost every back road and dirt track and goat path in the country. Even avoiding the mountains, he’d have enough to keep her occupied. Besides, she clearly had no idea what kind of situation she’d gotten herself into.

He should feel guilty, if not about Maggie then about her dying mother. And he did feel guilty—there was just enough decency left in his worthless hide to feel regret that the senior Mrs. Brown wouldn’t get to see Stella before she bit the bullet.

Then again, people had a habit of outliving everyone’s direst predictions. In the meantime, he was in the unpleasant position of having to play God, and he was making his choices. In the scheme of things, one dying old lady didn’t mean a hell of a lot.

And one starched-up, neurotic young woman didn’t mean much, either. So he felt a passing amount of lust for her. He’d have to be half-dead not to react to that outfit she slept in.

But then, if he was honest, he’d lusted after her from the moment she marched into Miguel’s cantina with her suit and her high-heeled shoes. He’d peered at her from under his hat and almost wanted to crawl out the back door. He knew trouble when he saw it, and she had his name written all over her.

He could have bailed. Found someone else to take his place. He’d been at loose ends, waiting for the week-long elections to conclude, and he’d jumped at the chance to do something other than wait. Anyway, it had been his idea to come after her in the first place. All he had to do was make a few calls and someone else would be commissioned to take her on a wild-goose chase and he could have been free.

He was a man who did his damnedest to avoid doing things he didn’t want to do, and yet he had no intention of leaving Magnolia Brown to anyone else’s tender mercies. Besides, he’d promised The Professor he’d take care of it. It was the least he could do.

“Are we ever going to stop?” Her plaintive voice took him by surprise. So she hadn’t been asleep after all.

He glanced over at her. “Why?”

“I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count,” she shot back. “Besides, I’m starving.”

He pulled off to the side of the road, no mean feat considering how narrow and rutted it was. “There you go, kid. And you thought I wasn’t amenable.”

“You don’t want to know what I think of you,” she muttered, glancing toward the copse of trees. He waited for her to ask about a town, a bathroom, but she simply climbed out of the Jeep and headed toward the trees.

He waited until she disappeared into the small grove, waited just long enough, and then called out, “Watch out for snakes.”

He expected to see her back at the Jeep in a matter of moments, white-faced, breathless, her clothes hastily pulled together. To his surprise she emerged from the woods several minutes later, calmly strolling back to the Jeep as if she had all the time in the world.

“Nice try,” she said when she reached him. “I had a pet snake when I was a child. They don’t scare me.”

“There are some sandwiches in the back if you’re hungry,” he said, climbing out of the Jeep. “Some bottled water as well.”

“Where are you going?”

He grinned at her. “I’m not afraid of snakes, either.”

* * *

T
HEY REACHED THE OUTSKIRTS
of the capital city by nightfall, a neat trick considering it was only forty-three miles away from Las Cruces. The roads alone would have killed half the day, and his circuitous route took care of the rest of the time. He drove through the countryside around the city, planning to come in from the north for no other reason than to disorient her. Besides, the inn he had in mind was so disreputable he was pretty sure she’d refuse to go there if she thought there was any alternative. He didn’t intend to give her any.

She was silent as they drove past the outskirts of the city, past the slums and the graffiti-bedecked buildings that were Generalissimo Cabral’s idea of affordable housing. She didn’t realize he was watching her, as her face grew still and her eyes grew wider.

He pulled up outside Elena’s place. “I’ll get you settled first before I go out looking for information. Whether you like it or not I think we’d better share a room. This isn’t the safest part of town.”

She glanced at the tumbled-down hotel. “Then why are we here?”

“I told you, informers don’t hang out in the tourist sections. Besides, you’ve never experienced a country until you’ve seen where the real people live.”

“I’m sure the ones who live in the mansions near the airport are just as real as these people are.”

“They’re part of the military government. More robot than human,” he drawled, climbing out of the car and grabbing his suitcase. Deliberately making no effort to take hers. He wanted to see if she’d ask him to, or if she’d try to make it on her own.

She slid out the other side, grabbed her suitcase without hesitation and started after him. “I’m sure I’ll be just fine in my own room,” she said calmly. “I have faith in the inherent goodness of people.”

“Then you came to the wrong country. Poverty puts quite a dent in people’s sense of hospitality.”

“Nevertheless…”

“Nevertheless you’ll do as I say. That’s what you promised, before I took you off on this ridiculous journey.”