Andreo's Race (19 page)

Smart thinking, I realize. No one but us will be able to retrieve it from there!

As for me, the minute Vargas's beady eyes lock on me, I let unknown instincts take over: I pick up the fallen guard's handgun, point it at the fat man and cock it. Vargas and Vanessa stop in their tracks, mouths dropping open.

“Raul,” I order, “peel some duct tape off my trekking pole and tape Jorge's hands behind his back before he comes to.” I don't know whether the guard is drunk,
concussed or both, but even if the gun were loaded—and I remind myself that Vargas and Vanessa don't know it's not—I consider two irate adults enough to deal with.

“Jorge!” Vargas shouts as Raul kneels and begins a lightning-fast duct-tape job on the man's wrists and ankles. “Get up, you drunk, before it's too late!” Then he turns to me and switches to the soothing, patient voice I've come to hate. “Andreo, have you any idea how dangerous a firearm can be?”

I do my best imitation of his belly laugh. “You think kids who live in grizzly bear and moose country don't get taught pretty young how to handle a simple piece like this?” That shuts him up.

“Andreo,” Vanessa pleads, taking a step toward me. “Don't get yourself hurt. Put the gun down, son.”

“I am not your son,” I bark, aiming the empty gun point-blank at her; she does a hasty retreat. “You mean nothing to me, Mrs. Vargas. My real parents taught me right from wrong. That's why I know it's up to me to shut you down. You chose your fate when you joined Vargas's business. Now all I want is to see both of you arrested.”

Raul, kneeling on the moaning Jorge like the guard is his personal bear trophy, raises his eyebrows at my speech and smiles.

I see Vargas edging toward the lantern beside the red suitcase. He thinks it might be clever to plunge us all into darkness? I reach up to flick my helmet headlamp on and
shine it right into his face. Raul does the same. Vargas blinks and freezes.

“Boys!” comes a booming voice at the cave entrance. We turn to see someone carrying a second lantern. A hint of cologne enters my nostrils.
Detective Colque!
I'm so relieved I could sink to the floor on the spot.

“
Increíble!
” Colque enthuses, shaking his head as he surveys the scene. “You boys are hired anytime you want to move to Cochabamba. Not that you
should
have been taking matters into your own hands, mind you. How'd you pull this off?”

“Snuck up that tunnel,” I say proudly, pointing.

“Where they dared to throw my record book a moment ago,” Vargas grouses.

“Where are the police?” Raul asks Colque.

“Right behind me,” the detective says. I feel my body relax even more.

Colque walks over and uses the toe of his boot to lift Jorge's chin. “Drunk? Vargas, can't you even hire a decent guard? And, Vanessa, how did I miss your secret connection to Vargas all these years?”

She stares blandly at him. Vargas crosses his arms and glares at the detective.

“Raul, you sure are handy with a roll of duct tape,” the
detective continues. “Nice work. Andreo, hand the gun to me and I'll take over from here.”

I give him the gun, even though I'm momentarily stunned by Raul shouting, “No! Don't, Andreo!”

The detective, gun in hand, keeps it leveled at Vanessa and Vargas as if he didn't hear Raul's outburst. “Okay, Andreo, all we need now is the notebook. Can you fetch that for me?”

“As soon as the police arrive,” Raul answers for me in a steely voice. I look at him in surprise.
What kind of answer is that?

The detective has turned to survey Raul closely, his eyes narrowed. Raul's forehead reveals beads of sweat, and I know my friend's full-on stare at me is trying to communicate something. But all I am is confused.

Detective's Colque's tone turns sharp. “No time to play games, Raul. Andreo, be a good
muchacho
and—”

“You're not working for the Cochabamba police, are you?” Raul demands.

“Of course I am, Raul,” the detective responds, looking puzzled and hurt. “And we established right from the start that my mission is to bring Vargas to justice.”

“Isn't it handy that your office in Cochabamba is right beside Vargas's vacated one?” Raul asks, his voice dripping sarcasm. I begin to feel alarmed.
What's Raul suddenly on to that I've missed?

“I hoped it would help me connect with people like you and Andreo, as I told you when we first met,” Colque
says patiently, “so we could find adoptive parents willing to testify and help connect adoptees and birth parents where possible.”

“You mean identify anyone who
might
be willing to testify, so you could intimidate them out of the idea like you did with Ardillita and Juan Pedro,” Raul accuses, eyes flashing at the detective. “And
pretend
to put adoptees in touch with birth parents while really doing everything you can to prevent them from finding each other.”

“Raul, you're not making sense!” I object.

Raul ignores me. “You put Andreo and Vanessa together eventually, but only after we phoned and told you that we'd met Ardillita and Juan Pedro and that Ardillita had spotted Vanessa in the village. And only after you'd phoned Vargas to tell him all that, correct? Am I also right that Vargas okayed your setting up a meeting, and then the two of you coached his wife on what to say, in hopes of satisfying Andreo? ‘You'll return to Canada satisfied' is what you said to Andreo. You figured that meeting would throw us off the scent long enough to help your real bosses, Hugo and Vanessa Vargas, get out of the country. How much is Vargas paying you, anyway?”

I'm looking from Colque to Vargas to Vanessa. No one is responding, but Colque's gun—had I really been so stupid that I handed it to him?—slowly swings from the couple to Raul.
Thank goodness Raul emptied it
is all I can think.

“Hurry this up and let's get out of here,” Vargas orders Colque in Spanish as he strides across the cave
like someone intent on grabbing hold of us. “What took you so long, anyway?”

It occurs to me—and I'm guessing to Raul too—that we should dash to the tunnel entrance and dive down it, right now. But Colque, reading my mind, steps between us and the tunnel until Vargas's large hands close around Raul's arms. “Good,” says Colque. “Hold Raul while Andreo squeezes into that tunnel to retrieve the notebook, Hugo.”

Raul and I exchange looks. I do a quick shake of my head to stop him from calling a bluff on the gun yet.

“No, let Raul get the notebook,” I say firmly. “He's the better caver. And after you hand it over, Raul, show Detective Colque what we've discovered hydration pack tubes can be used for.”

Raul's response is a bare hint of a smile. I don't expect him to get down the tunnel and up to the detective's truck fast enough to siphon his gas, but if the police aren't on their way and things are about to take a turn for the worse in this cavern, it's better that at least one of us and that notebook stay safe.

The detective looks momentarily confused. “If that's code for doing something funny, I'd strongly advise against it,” he says. “Especially since I've got Andreo here as hostage.”

Vargas has yet to release Raul. I do a fast calculation. Even with the gun disabled and Jorge out of action, I know better than to try and dodge three adults in an escape attempt, especially before Raul is free of Vargas.

“Clever boy, aren't you?” Colque says to Raul. “But why should you care who I'm working for? I helped Andreo meet his birth mother, and now you're headed back home. All's well that ends well.”

“Not,” I say, prompting Vargas's evil eye to shift to me. Vanessa, meanwhile, moves back to the suitcase and plunks down tiredly.

“We're not actually headed home till this ring is history,” I say, causing Vargas to laugh. “And maybe I have a few questions too. Like who came up with the beauty queen and married doctor line?”
Buying time. Hurry up, Police Chief Ferreira
.

“Me!” says Vargas proudly. “It was half true for my first client—you—and seemed to please your adoptive parents.”

“It worked so well that I advised him to use it on all our adoptive parent clients,” Colque adds, grinning.

“Not very original by the six hundredth baby,” I say dryly. “So I know why Dr. A was so willing to loan his clinic for the meeting. All four of you were in on this. How many people are working for you, anyway, Mr. Vargas?”

No response from the boss.

“It also explains why no one was at the shack when you first drove us up there,” Raul addresses Colque bitterly. “You'd tipped them off in time for them to leave. And it's no wonder you never phoned the police like you said you were going to—then or now.”
So why is Ferreira in Torotoro
? I wonder.
For Raul and me?
If so, they won't know to check out the shack, let alone this cave.

Colque and Vargas smile. Vanessa, frowning, has returned to her knitting as if to avoid everyone's eyes. With each furious stitch, the thick blue hat is coming off her needles, like she's done with it.

Memories are racing through my mind: Colque breezily informing us there was no charge for his services, and that we didn't need our adoptive parents' permission for him to help us. His e-mailing me that Vanessa was born in a small village near Cochabamba, but not replying to my question,
What small village?
His not knowing—or pretending not to know—that Vanessa and Vargas were married. And his assurance that
Vargas would never hurt Vanessa
.

“So all those times you asked whether my adoptive parents might be willing to testify,” I say, my blood pumping as fast as Vanessa's needles, “you were just double-checking that they weren't. And all those questions about our race route were to keep track of us. You must have been pretty nervous when you learned it went through Torotoro.”

“It wouldn't have been a problem if you hadn't hooked up with Ardillita somehow,” Colque replies evenly. “Release Raul, Hugo, and let him fetch the notebook if he doesn't want his friend to get hurt.”

“I won't let them hurt you, Andreo,” Raul says soberly before crawling into our vent.

Things go quiet after Raul disappears down the tunnel—deadly quiet as we wait. Vargas, Vanessa and the detective are all sweating like they're in a sauna, if my powers of observation are worth anything. Long after my friend should have returned, Vargas orders Vanessa to move to the hole and shine their lantern down it. She does as he asks.

“Gone,” she says resignedly. “I told you we should have burned the notebook earlier.” She returns to the suitcase as if awaiting the next order.

“He has run off. Is that what you think too, Andreo?” Colque asks me, voice rising. “Maybe he doesn't consider you such a good friend after all.”

I hang my head like I'm devastated and back away like I'm frightened.

“Hugo,” Colque directs calmly, his stare at me icy, “get your suitcase and your wife in my truck and get the hell gone. I'll cut Jorge free, take care of Andreo and get back to town somehow.”

“Don't you hurt him,” Vanessa's voice floats across the cave.

“Shall I shoot him?” Colque asks Vargas, ignoring her.

“Whatever you think is best,” Vargas replies indifferently as he picks up the suitcase and lantern. “The other boy has nothing but a half-burned notebook. We'll be safe before anyone can do anything with it.”

Vanessa walks over to me, her skirt swishing, her low-heeled silver sandals making hollow clicks on the stone floor. She lifts the thick blue hat from her knitting bag
and offers it with outstretched hands and something like warmth in her eyes.

I accept it with trembling hands. “Thanks,” I whisper. “I'm glad we met, even if—”