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Authors: Lionel White

The Mexico Run (24 page)

BOOK: The Mexico Run
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    "Return immediately to Ensenada. Within forty-eight hours of your arrival, you will be contacted by a man who will be traveling under the name of Carlos Santiago."
    "And how will I identify him?"
    He took a fifty-dollar bill out of his pocket and tore it diagonally in two. He handed me one piece.
    "Santiago will be carrying this other half," he said. "He will register at La Casa Pacifica, where you have been staying. Don't approach him, but wait until he contacts you. He will give you your instructions, and you are to follow them to the letter. Without question and without deviation. Is that understood?"
    I nodded. "Understood."
    He stood up to indicate that our interview was over. As I turned to leave, he again spoke.
    "And one more thing, Mr. Johns. I must insist that you sever all connections with Captain Morales. Morales is a very dangerous man. I have had dealings with him in the past. I can assure you that he can only spell trouble for you."
    "I can well believe that," I said.
    Five minutes later, his chauffeured limousine was again taking me back to the Santa Marina, in the heart of Acapulco.
    
14
    
    I drove the rented car back to the airport in Acapulco with twenty minutes left over to catch my flight into Mexico City. There were no problems. But once again because of poor connections I was held over in Mexico City for more than five hours before catching a flight going north.
    I was unable to get a plane going into Ensenada, but had to compromise on a nonscheduled flight into Tijuana. I arrived in Tijuana just after dark.
    I was tired and decided to stay in Tijuana overnight and then try to find a bus to take me into Ensenada the following morning. Before checking into a hotel, however, I decided to call La Casa Pacifica. I was anxious to find out if there were any messages waiting for me. It had been a pretty busy forty-eight hours, but throughout that time the thought of Ann Sherwood had been fingering in the back of my mind.
    I made the telephone call from a pay booth, and had quite a little trouble with the operator who spoke almost no English, but I eventually got through to La Casa Pacifica. Billings answered the phone. It was a bad connection. I asked him if there had been any calls or if I had had any visitors. For several moments, there were odd crackling noises coming from the receiver, and then the line went completely dead.
    I rattled the hook up and down, but was unable to get the operator. I found a second phone booth and again put in a call to La Casa Pacifica. This time I was luckier in my selection of an operator, but I had no luck at all in getting through. The girl finally told me that she was unable to make a connection, and said that either the phone which I was calling was out of order, or somebody had left the receiver off the hook.
    I couldn't say exactly why, but it bothered me. I changed my plans and decided to try to get into Ensenada that evening. I wasted another half hour or so, finding out that it was too late to catch a bus and there was no flight going down until the following morning.
    I did the next best thing and started looking around for a rental car. It wasn't easy. It took the best part of an hour to find a four-year-old, beaten-up Mustang and I had to leave a cash deposit which came to more than the price of the car on the retail market. But by ten o'clock, I was again on my way. The Mustang had bare tires and a top speed of about forty miles an hour, but I still managed to pull into the courtyard of La Cast Pacifica just after midnight.
    The vague worries which had been scurrying around in the back of my mind suddenly blossomed into full maturity as I stepped to the ground and noticed the white Volkswagen camper parked some thirty feet from the entrance. There was no light in the courtyard, and I had to lean down and light a match to identify the California license plates.
    As I pushed open the heavy door of La Casa Pacifica the sound of a steel-guitar band coming from the juke box in the bar hit my ear. The lights were still on in the lobby, and I could hear laughter and voices as I crossed over to the combination cocktail lounge and barroom.
    Billings was behind the bar mixing a batch of Margaritas, and the party was going on at the large table over in the corner facing the ocean. There were five people at the table. Three girls and two men. Four of them I recognized immediately.
    Juanita, Billings' wife, was doubled over with laughter, apparently at something that had just been said. Next to her was a dark-complexioned man whom I didn't recognize. At his right was Ann Sherwood, a glass in her hand. She too was laughing. On the other side of the table was Captain Morales, sitting next to Lynn Sherwood.
    Captain Morales was the first one to notice me as I stepped into the room. He had apparently been telling a story, because he looked up and on seeing me, stopped in mid-sentence. He rose quickly to his feet and smiled widely.
    "What a pleasant surprise," he said. "It is my good friend Senor Johns." He quickly crossed the room and threw his arm across my shoulder, as he turned to the girls at the table.
    "Your friend never ceases to surprise me, Miss Sherwood," he said. "Here we didn't expect him until tomorrow, and he is suddenly in our midst." He continued talking as he more or less propelled me across the room.
    "It has been my pleasure to entertain your most beautiful lady and her enchanting sister, who have arrived to pay you a visit while touring our spectacular countryside. And now that you are back we are delighted to have you join us."
    He twisted his head and spoke over his shoulder. "A Margarita for Senor Johns, my host," he said. "I am sure he will need a little refreshment after his arduous journey."
    The second man at the table was now on his feet, watching me with a blank expression on his face, and Ann had also risen and was rounding the table.
    "Mark," she said, "how very nice to see you. I was so disappointed when we arrived the day before yesterday to find you were gone. I'm so happy that you were able to get back while we were still here."
    Captain Morales removed his arm from my shoulder and Ann took me by both hands and lifted her face and kissed me on the mouth.
    Lynn looked at me and said, "Hi. The prodigal son has returned at last."
    The second man at the table had his hand out, and Captain Morales was introducing him as "Senor Diaz, a member of my staff."
    We shook hands, and he pulled a chair over from a second table and we all sat down. Everybody seemed a little bit high, and by now Billings had brought a tray of fresh Margaritas to the table.
    Lynn reached for a Margarita, but before she could lift the glass, Ann took hold of her wrist.
    "I think, Lynn," she said, "you've had enough for one evening."
    Lynn looked at her older sister and pouted.
    Captain Morales smiled benevolently as he turned to the younger girl.
    "She is right, Miss Lynn," he said, his voice unctuous. "Tequila is a very strong drink, especially if one is not used to it."
    "Thank you, captain," Ann said, her voice grateful. "Lynn gets carried away at times."
    I looked at her in amazement. I thought, my God, -can she really be taken in by this hypocrite?
    "Now that you are back, Senor Johns," Captain Morales said, "you must take very good care of these young ladies of yours. I am sure that they will be wanting to see something of our countryside, and although I have not wanted to frighten them, I have felt it my duty to warn them that it can be dangerous for two young ladies traveling alone in Mexico. It is best that a gentleman accompany them if they visit isolated areas."
    "We're only planning on being in Mexico for another week," Ann said. "I find that I must return to San Francisco earlier than I had expected, and we want to take in some sightseeing on our way back."
    Captain Morales finished the drink he was holding and stood up. His companion also rose.
    "It has been a most delightful evening," Captain Morales said. "Delightful, but I am afraid we must leave. I have many things to do, and the hour grows late. I trust that I will see you before you leave," he said, addressing the remark directly to Ann. "And be assured that if, I can be of any service, I would be only too enchanted."
    He bowed from the waist and left the room, followed by his companion, who had also bowed, but said not a word. A moment later, Juanita stood up and took the tray of empty glasses back to the bar, where she rejoined her husband. Ann turned toward me, her head cocked to one side, smiling.
    "Mark," she said, "were you surprised to see us here? It really is good to see you again."
    "I was surprised all right. What made you come, Ann?" I asked. "What did you…"
    Her eyes widened arid she looked at me, startled.
    "You sound as though you're disappointed," she said. "Didn't you get my letter?"
    I was still trying to recover from the shock of finding them at La Casa Pacifica, and it took me a moment or two to recover my poise.
    "Yes, yes, of course, I'm glad to see you. I've missed you a great deal. It's just that I wasn't really expecting you."
    "But you did get my letter?"
    I nodded. "Yes, I got your letter. You say you got here the day before yesterday?"
    Lynn stood up. "You two can sit here and yak all night if you want to," she said. I'm going to bed. It's a shame our captain and his friend had to leave. He's cool. Real cool."
    "He's a vicious, murderous, son-of-a-bitch."
    Unconsciously, the words slipped out, and both Lynn and her sister stared at me in shocked disbelief.
    "You men are worse than women," Lynn said. "Simply can't stand competition. Anyway, I'm going to cut out."
    Ann waited until her sister left the room and then she spoke in a low voice.
    "Mark, what is it? What is the matter? I can tell you're upset. What's wrong?"
    I looked over at the bar where Billings was helping his wife clean up.
    "You are checked in here?" I asked.
    Ann nodded. I leaned toward her and lowered my voice, so as not to be overheard.
    "I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes, Ann," I said. "I'd like to do it in privacy."
    She looked at me questioningly when I stood up. I reached down and took her arm, and she obediently followed me out of the lounge. A moment later, I had picked up the gladstone bag which I had dropped off in the lobby and was unlocking the door to my suite of rooms at the end of the hall.
    She waited until I had closed the door before she spoke. "Mark, what is this all about? You are acting very strangely. Didn't you want me to come down here? Didn't you want to see me?"
    "Listen," I said. "Where did you meet Captain Morales?"
    She took a step back and stared up at me. "Captain Morales? Why I met him here, a few hours after we arrived to look you up. Mr. Billings, the manager, introduced him. He has been absolutely charming to both Lynn and myself. He showed us all around town this afternoon and invited us to dinner this evening and he couldn't have been nicer to us. He told me that he was a very good friend of yours. But you haven't answered my question. Why are you acting so strangely? Acting as though, well, as though you were upset and annoyed that we came down her."
    "Sit down, Ann," I said. "Sit down." I took her arm and moved her over to the chair by the window.
    "You've got to leave, Ann," I said. "You and Lynn. At once. I want you to leave Ensenada and I want you to leave Mexico and go back to California."
    She looked at me as though I had taken leave of my senses.
    "I really believe you don't want to see me," she said. "I thought…"
    "Want to see you? Of course, I want to see you. My God, Ann, I'm in love with you. I thought I was before, and now I know I am. I love you a great deal."
    "And that is why you want me to leave now that we are here?"
    I shook my head helplessly. "I know it doesn't make sense, Ann," I said. "It's just that, well, something has happened and I can't explain it to you just now…"
    "Listen, Mark, tell me what this is all about. In one breath you teU me you love me and you are glad to see me, and in the next breath, you tell me that I must leave. Are you in some sort of trouble?"
    I didn't want to frighten her, and so for a moment or two I was at a loss for words. Finally, I looked up and said, "Not exactly trouble, Ann. It's just that I don't think Mexico is a good place for you and Lynn to be, and this man, Morales, he's not all that he seems to be. He is a very dangerous person to know."
    She shook her head, puzzled, "But he's a police captain," Ann said. "And he couldn't have been nicer than he has been to Lynn and me. He's also spoken very highly of you. He told us that you are the best of personal friends."
    "Acquaintances," I said shortly.
    Ann stood up and put her hands on my shoulders.
    "Mark," she said, "a moment ago you told me that you loved me. Well, I have certain feelings about you also. I've been worried about you. Worried ever since the last time we were together. I want you to tell me what's happening. I know something is wrong. What is it, Mark?"
    I hesitated again for several seconds, and then I pulled her down onto my lap and I kissed her and put my arms around her.
    "Mark," she said, "back in San Francisco, when I was worrying so about Lynn, I know that I acted strangely. When people are worried and have problems, it's pretty hard for them to be normal around others. Even the ones they love. Why don't you tell me what the trouble, is?"
    "There is trouble, Ann," I said. "But I can't tell you about it now. And I am worried. Worried about you and your sister. I just want you to trust me. Mexico is no place for either of you at this time. You must take me on faith and do what I ask you to do. I want both of you to leave immediately and return to the States."
BOOK: The Mexico Run
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