2 Queenie Baby - Out of Office (8 page)

*  *  *

After the excitement of the bull fight, the picturesque hike through the thickening jungle was almost dull. Until, that is, we reached what looked to be a large gravel parking lot. A couple dozen cars were parked in neat rows as a parking attendant took money from under an umbrella. A sign with an arrow and what I assumed was the Spanish word for waterfalls was pointing to the other side of the parking lot.

Carlos looked around in disbelief. "This can't be."

"This is what they call progress, Cap'n." I gave Carlos a pat on the back.

"They put in a parking lot? To the secret waterfall?" he cried in dismay.

"On the bright side," Andre interjected, "it must be nice, or they wouldn't have bothered."

With a little less spring in his step, Carlos followed the group of sunburned tourists to the wooden platform and stairs leading down to the fall.

Carlos pointed down at a muddy gully zigzagging its way to the bottom. "That used to be the path down. It was quite a challenge to get to the bottom."

We stared over the side of the muddy cliff. A tattered rope that had been tied who knows how many decades ago was the only safety feature.

I looked at Andre. "I think I'm okay with the new and improved waterfalls. How about you?"

"Definitely."

"I must disagree with you, m'lady," said Carlos dejectedly.

"I'm sure the waterfall is still wonderful," I replied, falling into line on the trail.

A few minutes later, the walkway widened, opening onto a wooden-railed ledge. Water spilled over a fifty-foot rock fall and splashed into a large, clear swimming hole below. A mix of locals and tourists were swimming and laughing. I watched in fascination as one boy climbed the rock wall effortlessly and dove alongside the waterfall into the deep pool below.

"Wow!" I turned to Andre and Carlos.

"Yeah," Andre agreed, "wow!"

Carlos beamed. "At least this hasn't changed. Come on, mates!" he cried, leading the way to the bottom.

Carlos kicked off his shoes and dove into the cool, clear water. Andre and I were right behind him. I pulled off my shorts and shirt and ditched my shoes. Andre grabbed my hand, and we jumped into the water with a big splash. Little fish swam all around us. I floated on my back for a minute, wondering how I'd gotten here. In a waterfall, in the middle of nowhere, on the island of Puerto Rico. Some things you just couldn't plan for.

Andre swam over to a big rock that jutted out into the pool and climbed onto the narrow ledge of stone.

I swam over to him, thinking that I'd forgotten how good he looked without his shirt on.

I must have been staring at his chest too long, because he said, "You two still haven't had sex yet? Unbelievable."

I pulled myself up onto the warm rock beside him. "There was a fire last night."

He shook his head. "Wouldn't have stopped me."

I cut my eyes at him. "Yeah, nothing stops you. Not even a wife."

Bull's eye. He stared moodily out at the beautiful water.

We sat in silence, watching Carlos chat up a couple of pretty local girls. I heard whispers across the water of "Carlos Rodriguez" and "'The Rum Song.'" 

One of the local boys must have been feeling left out. To show off, he climbed even higher up the rocky cliff, calling out challengingly to Carlos in Spanish before executing a perfect dive into the water below.

I moved to slide back into the water.

"Diana, wait," Andre said lightly touching my arm. "I'm sorry about last summer. I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"There's nothing to apologize for," I said lightly. "We were just having fun last summer, remember? You said so yourself."

"I know," he began, "that's what I said because I didn't want the complications of anything else. But I've spent months trying to get you out of my mind, and then there you were standing in front of me. In handcuffs. Just like in my dreams," he teased.

I laughed. And for a moment I found myself remembering what it was like to lay in his arms. It had been good. Real good.

I shook my head. "I've finally found someone who is wonderful
and
single. I'm not getting involved with a married man again, Andre."

Andre had been staring into my eyes. Now he was staring beyond me, his eyes narrow slits. "What is that idiot doing now?" he ground out.

I turned to follow his eye. Carlos was steadily climbing the slippery rock cliff. The dozen or so locals were pointing. "Carlos," they murmured reverently.

"Get down, Carlos!" Andre yelled.

Carlos gave him a jaunty wave. "Fear not, my brave mate. I was born upon these rocks."

"Idiot's going to die on them, too," Andre muttered.

Carlos had reached the top. The local boy who had been showing off moments before called out a warning in Spanish.

Carlos gave the crowd an exaggerated bow, kicked up in the air, and dove down with the form of an Olympic diver. He broke the surface of the water to cheers from the crowd and sighs of relief from us.

I shook my head. "How does he do things like that?"

Andre pursed his lips. "Guess it's the pirate in him."

Carlos swam over to us with a big smile.

Andre pointed a finger at him. "Add cliff diving to the list of things that will make me quit."

"You worry like a mother hen," Carlos chuckled, pulling himself from the water. "You should've seen my Uncle Jose do that dive wearing his hat. Always came up outta the water wearing it. They used to call him El Sombrero."

Andre stared at him blankly for a moment, and then said, "I need a beer. You two ready for lunch?"

I grinned. "You had me at beer."

After a boxed lunch and a delightfully cold beer, we started the long trek back to the limo. Thankfully, there was no sign of the bull as we crossed the field. It was almost 1:00 p.m. when we finally reached the car. I climbed into the cool air-conditioned interior with a sigh. Carlos was chatting happily about our visit to the falls. Andre was quiet.

I checked my phone. Two texts from Mark:

Mark: 
Meeting changed again!

Mark:
Still waiting for a call. Booked villa for next 3 days ;)

I smiled at the winky eye. The last text had been sent thirty minutes ago, so I decided to call.

Mark picked up on the first ring.

"Hi." My stomach did a little flip at the sound of his voice.

"Hi, yourself. How's it going?" I asked.

He sighed. "Finally have a time to meet. Two o'clock at the airport bar. Marcie will call David right before and let him know what's going on. If I time it right, we'll be making the exchange right when he walks in. Hopefully, it'll be the push David needs to realize what a slimeball his father is."

"We should be there close to 2:00 as well. I think that's when Roger and Phil said they'd be flying in."

"So I'll wait at the bar for you," he said. Then added, "Just wait until Charles is gone, please."

"I will," I promised, but I wouldn't have minded giving Charles a kick in the crotch for the way he'd threatened my dog the last time we met.

"Okay, I'll see you soon. Oh, and Diana?"

"Yes?"

"Still hickey free?"

I rolled my eyes. Geez, you show up at work with a hickey one time, and suddenly you're public enemy number one. "Of course! And just a reminder, we weren't together when I had that hickey from my ex."

"Duly noted," he said. "I can't wait to have you all to myself tonight."

"Me neither," I replied, my stomach doing a little flip again.

I hung up and looked up to see Andre staring at me.

"What?" I asked peevishly.

"Nothing." He turned towards the window.

Carlos had his guitar out and was softly playing a Spanish ballad.

"That's nice," I said, ignoring Andre.

"Thanks! How 'bout we practice another song we can do together?" he suggested. "I want to give Roger and Phil something more to work with."

I leaned forward and took the guitar from him. "Where is this really going, Carlos?"

"Why, m'lady," he said, switching to pirate, "I'm still workin' out the plan. But I am determined to work out an accord in which you have your share of the booty, and I have more time as a pirate." He gave me wink.

"Aye to that," I replied.

*  *  *

It was 2:35 when we pulled up to the arrivals gate at Aguadilla Airport. The driver went to park the car and wait for Andre's call. On the ride, I had explained Mark's plan. Andre had paused long enough from staring moodily out the window to shake his head and tell us we were nuts. Carlos was thrilled to be in on the plan and had offered to "keep a lookout for the scalawag." I assured him 'the scalawag' would either be in custody or on a plane by the time we got there.

The airport was tiny. Only a few shops and restaurants ringed the open space. I craned my neck looking for the bar. Andre tapped me on the arm and pointed towards the end of the pavilion. The Buccaneer Bar and Grill was open for business.

"What are the chances?" he asked.

"There are no coincidences," I replied sagely.

"Land Ho!" Carlos called as he laid eyes on the bar. "I believe that's a fine place to spend some time in our cups while we wait."

I checked my watch. Almost 2:30 p.m. There was a good chance the exchange was over. I could see Mark, have a drink, and wait peacefully for Roger and Phil to arrive. What could go wrong?

Carlos hurried towards the bar, excited by the prospect of hanging out in a pirate's den. Andre and I were less enthused. The bar was dark and cool. I had to squint to see more than ten feet in front of me.

Carlos used his best pirate lines on the hostess who was dressed as a tavern wench. The hostess said something rapidly in Spanish. The surprise of meeting the amazing Carlos Rodriguez left her breathless.

"In the flesh, m'lady," he said gallantly.

She giggled and took us to a table near the bar, her hips swinging provocatively as she walked.

I sat down and squinted into the darkness. I could make out kitschy pirate wares on the walls: hats, pictures, flags, and even a pair of crossed swords over the bar. And in the farthest corner Mark sat at a table with Charles.

Oh, no! This was not part of the plan. I couldn't see Charles' face or hear what they were saying, but Mark's expression was furious. Clearly, it was not going well.

Mark slammed a briefcase on the table and slid it towards Charles.

Just as I tapped Andre's shoulder to let him know we should head back the way we'd come, Mark's cousin, David, dashed by our table.

He made straight for Mark, then slammed the data file down in front of him. "Take it. I'm tired of all this!" he yelled.

He had the whole bar's attention.

Andre leaned over to me. "This what we came here to see?"

"It was supposed to be over by now," I whispered.

Charles turned to David and shouted. "Shut up and get out of here, you idiot!"

David winced at the harsh words, but held his ground.

"No, this stops now. You're not shaking my mom and Ed down for any more money. I'm out!" David banged his fist on the table. Wow, Marcie had done a heck of a job getting David riled up.

"You heard David," Mark said. "Deal's off. Better get moving before your friends from Miami catch up with you."

As if on cue, a figure rushed past us. "Oh, Charlie's friend's right here," he said.

Everyone screamed and dove under their tables as a wild-eyed Tyrell approached Mark's table pointing a gun directly at Charles. "Now give me the fuckin' data file. I followed your boy here, so don't even think about tellin' me you don't have it."

No one said a word. Mark simply handed Tyrell the USB.

"'Bout time you started respectin', Tyrell! That's what I'm talkin' 'bout." He stuffed the USB in his pocket. Mark and Charles both looked at the half million in cash sitting in the case on the table between them. Tyrell never noticed it.

Andre leaned over to me and whispered, "Doesn't seem to be any point in interfering. Looks like that idiot'll just walk right out of here."

I nodded, but just in case, I whispered back, "Where's your gun?"

"In the limo. Didn't think it'd go over too well at the airport. Guess I was wrong."

Tyrell looked at Mark and shook his head. "You keepin' some strange-ass company, G-Man. Hooked up with slick Charlie an' a shorty who hangs with mother-fuckin' pirates. I hate me some pirates."

I grabbed Carlos' arm to stop him from jumping up to defend his pirate honor.

"Now I got unfinished business with y'all. This here ain't the time nor the place, but Tyrell got you in his sights." He pointed to his eyes and then pointed to Mark and Charles. "Feel me?"

He strutted towards the door, saying loudly, "Gotta love how a gun makes everyone feel like cooperatin'."

And then he was gone. The restaurant erupted with a buzz of conversations.

The hostess approached Mark's table, crying and waving her hands and wildly speaking in rapid Spanish.

"Shut up, you stupid bitch!" Charles growled at the woman, getting to his feet.

Carlos was out of his seat and in Charles' face before Andre or I could react.

"Sir, you will apologize to the lady!" he ordered.

Charles stared at him like he was from outer space. Mark shook his head and looked around the dark room. His eyes zeroed in on me; I gave him a little wave and a sheepish grin.

"Hey, aren't you the guy who sings 'The Rum Song?'" David asked.

"I am," Carlos said with a bow to David.

"I love that song," David said.

The small crowd watching murmured in agreement.

Really? At a time like this?

Charles cursed and slapped David across the face. "Idiot!" he screamed.

The crowd gasped.

"Sir, you are no gentleman," Carlos said gravely.

"And you make a piss-poor pirate!" Charles cried with a laugh and lunged for the case full of money.

I gasped, not sure how Carlos would take the insult.

"Be that as it may," Carlos replied smoothly, stepping into Charles' path, "I will have to ask you to wait here for the authorities. You will answer for your assault on that man," he said pointing to David, "and for your other misdeeds."

"Yeah, you think you're going to stop me?" Charles asked snidely, getting into Carlos' face.

Mark and Andre stood up. "I will," they said almost in unison.

Andre was closest. He stepped in front of Charles to block his way.

"He has a Taser!" David yelled as Charles reached into his coat pocket and zapped Andre full in the chest.

Everything seemed to happen at once. I screamed as Andre fell heavily, knocking the Taser from Charles' hand. Mark rushed towards Charles. Carlos leapt on top of the large wooden bar and pulled down one of the swords from the wall over the bar. The other sword clanked noisily to the floor at my feet.

Charles rushed to grab the sword and came up holding it just as Mark tried to tackle him. The tip of the sword caught Mark across the chest. I screamed and rushed towards him, as a bright red line bloomed across his white cotton shirt.

Charles caught me by the hair, dragging me with one hand and brandishing the sword with the other. Carlos ran down the bar and leapt into the air, landing in front of Charles.

Charles tried to pull me to my feet by the hair, but I grabbed his leg and bit down as hard as I could. He screamed like a banshee and shook himself loose. Carlos brandished his sword at Charles' chest; Charles countered in a protective stance.

I ran over to help Mark. The hostess was holding a dishtowel to his chest and shrieking in Spanish.

I looked up to see Carlos parrying with Charles for a few seconds, a grim smile creasing his face. It occurred to me that he might be making the most of his swordplay time. With a sudden twirl and flourish, Carlos knocked Charles' sword to the floor and pressed the tip of the sword to Charles' chest.

"No quarter!" Carlos cried.

The bar erupted in cheers.

Sirens wailed and a brigade of police and TSA officers swarmed into the room.

Carlos handed his sword to the first officer on the scene. "I am Carlos Rodriguez," he said formally, "and this man attacked several patrons and is a wanted criminal."

"You 'The Rum Song' singer?" the officer asked.

Carlos nodded. I gritted my teeth.

"Didn't know you were a pirate," the officer said a little perplexed.

Carlos smiled and put a finger to his lips. The officer led him over to a bar stool to take his statement.

"What in the hell is going on here?" A voice boomed from the doorway of the bar. Carlos' producers, Roger and Phil, took in the chaotic scene.

Andre, finally shaking off the effects of the Taser, stood up and tried to explain. "Roger this isn't Carlos' fault."

"You're right," said Phil, coming up behind Roger, "it's yours! You're supposed to keep him out of trouble."

Andre bowed his head in defeat.

Mark was brushing my hands away as I fussed over what looked to be a superficial scratch across his chest. I jumped up and lashed out at the two producers.

"Andre has done a great job trying to keep Carlos out of trouble," I began. "It's your fault for not letting Carlos be what he wants to be—a pirate!"

"What are you doing here?" Phil cried in disbelief, his uber-white teeth almost glowing in the dark interior.

"I'm here because you two ripped off my song and gave it to Carlos the Pirate!" I shrieked.

"Yes," Carlos chimed in from his seat at the bar, "why did you two rapscallions cut her out of the booty?"

"Stop that, Carlos!" Roger commanded. His perfectly coiffed salt and pepper hair never moved as he shook his head in agitation.

"I will not," Carlos said proudly. "I am Carlos Rodriguez the 7th generation of Bluebeard, the greatest pirate to ever sail these waters." He finished with a grand bow and a flourish of his arm.

Phil dabbed at his tight, tan face with a handkerchief. Roger looked like he was going to explode. Several onlookers were filming the whole scene. It was kind of fun to see the oh-so-professional producers in their custom-tailored suits sweating it out.

Roger's eyes narrowed. "It's all her fault!" he yelled. "She fucks everything up! You want to know why we haven't called you back or told you anything about this?" he sneered.