Red Leopard (The Vistaria Affair Series) (6 page)

Calli almost knocked her drink over as Minnie spoke and now she gripped Minnie’s arm. “He was there last night?” She rubbed her temple, trying to recall the muttered Spanish she’d heard just before she’d whirled to confront the man with the red hair
.
“What did you just call him?” she said to Minnie.

“
E
l leopardo?”

“Yes. That’s ‘the leopard’, but red...” She dived for her newly purchased dictionary.

“
Rojo
,” Minnie supplied. “
El leopardo rojo
.”

Calli laughed. “
Rojo...
Roger.
That’s
what they said last night and I thought they’d called him Roger.”

Minnie’s eyes shone. “You met him? The Red Leopard?”

Calli could feel another huge bubble of mirth welling up inside her. “No wonder the soldier at the desk went back and got my bag. He didn’t want Uncle Josh to bring the Red Leopard down on him again. I
knew
the guy had power, but I didn’t suspect....”

“So who
is
he?” Minnie begged. “Duardo wouldn’t tell me. They say it’s a mark of respect not to speak of his real identity, even though they all know. He wouldn’t tell me no matter how I asked. But you will, won’t you? You’ll tell me who he is.”

Calli shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me either. He refused.”

Minnie banged the table with her tiny fist. “Damn! This thing is driving me crazy. I’ve been trying to find out who he is for days, but all the soldiers are the same. El zippo on his real name.”

“God, Minnie, how many soldiers have you been talking to about this?” Calli asked, alarmed.

“A few. Any of them that would talk to me.”

“You can’t go around bugging them about this. If this Red Leopard man really wants his identity kept quiet, then they won’t appreciate you, an American, trying to dig it up. Promise me you won’t do it anymore.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s just casual chat.”

“To you. Not to them. Promise me,” Calli insisted.

Minnie looked at her, as if trying to judge how serious she was. Then she sighed and dropped her napkin on the table. “Oh, all right, already. No more questions.” She planted her chin on her fist and pouted for a moment, although Calli knew the pout was more for effect than a genuine sulkiness. Minnie was too even tempered to ever truly sulk. Pouting was how she teased Calli for being, in Minnie’s opinion, a stick-in-the-mud. Then, true to form, she visibly brightened and sat up in her chair. “We’ll be surrounded by the military tonight,” she said. “Maybe we won’t have to talk. Maybe we can just keep our ears pinned back and we’ll hear something.”

“In that mashed Spanish they use?” Calli pointed out.

“Okay,
see
something then,” Minnie amended. “Come on, let’s go get that dress we saw. It’s just the thing for tonight.” She pulled the big Vistarian bills out of her bag, counted off enough to cover the drinks and dropped them on the table.

Calli willingly picked up her bag and followed Minnie down the steps to the road and the walk back to the shopping area, feeling a little of the weight drop from her shoulders and her mind. She was learning, making connections, figuring out the lay of the land. With her new knowledge came the reassurance that she would never see
him
again. No one who worked to keep his identity a secret would move freely around the city, out in the public.

“Can we find
me
a dress, too?” she complained to Minnie as she strode to catch up with her cousin.

* * * * *

The problem with allowing Minnie to help with clothes shopping, Calli realized five hours later, was that you ended up with something you wouldn’t have considered buying if you’d been on your own.

But her lack of wardrobe meant she had to wear the aquamarine gown regardless of the wisdom of her choice. Oh, she had been fine about the dress when they had been in the store. Minnie had pounced on it on the hanger and insisted it would be perfect for her and as usual, Minnie had been right. It had fit well, the color intensified the green of her eyes, and the layers of chiffon gave the whole outfit a delicate appearance that offset her height. She had liked the effect in the mirror. But that had been before they had reached
el Hotel Imperial
.

Duardo had been waiting in the cavernous foyer with its white stone walls and gorgeous Persian carpets and heavy mahogany furniture. He wore what Calli could only assume was the formal uniform of the Vistarian army—very dark green pants, a white dress shirt and waist-length jacket. The cut reminded her of the black costumes the men had been wearing last evening and she had seen hundreds of them again this evening on their way to the hotel. At the neck Duardo wore a green and red ribbon in a flat, formalized knot, with a gold pin through the middle. The breast of his jacket had a row of medals and ribbons and black stripes on the sleeves of the jacket replicated the red ones he’d worn when she saw him the previous evening, talking to Minnie.

When he saw them enter the foyer, he straightened and walked towards them, and Minnie sighed, coming to a halt. “Now isn’t that the sexiest man alive?” she murmured to Calli.

Duardo smiled at them both. “My pleasure it is to see you again this evening,” he told them. He came to formal attention in front of them and bowed from the waist in greeting to Calli. He did the same to Minnie, then reached into his jacket and withdrew a single blood-red carnation and presented it to her.

“Oh, how lovely!” she declared.

He lifted a finger a little towards her hair. “For your hair.”

She laughed and ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s not long enough to hold a flower.”

He laughed too. “I forgot. I only remembered your eyes and that red is your color.”

“Never mind,” she said. “I know just where to put it.” She broke off all but a couple of inches of stem, and pushed the flower into her cleavage, so that it nestled between her breasts and the top of the low vee of her gown. The flower matched the color of the swirls on her dress.

“Perfection,” Duardo declared, studying the effect with close attention.

Calli hid her smile and surveyed the hotel. It seemed to be an older building, but well-maintained and reeking of money. The few women in the foyer glittered with jewels and costly dresses. Every man there, with the exception of hotel staff, wore military dress. There was not a single civilian male in sight.

“What is the party for tonight?” she asked Duardo.

“Tonight is the birthday party for our beloved General Maxim Blanco Alonso,” Duardo answered with pride.

“Nothing to do with the fiesta then?”

“Most certainly not. General Blanco is very...correct. Very...” He tugged on the bottom of his jacket. “
U
n perfecto caballero
.”

Calli got the sense of his meaning from the tug of his jacket and the squaring of his shoulders. Upright, dignified. Proper. A gentleman.

“Best bibs and tuckers and all that?” she asked with a mock English accent.

“
Qué?
” Duardo asked.

“Nothing,” she assured him. “Forget it. I’m teasing.” But Calli was suddenly glad Minnie had insisted on buying the gown she wore. Minnie had assured her Vistarians were very formal in the evenings and she hadn’t quite understood what she meant. Now she did.

“Shall we?” Duardo asked, holding out his arms to them.

Calli let her fingers rest inside his elbow as they walked around the islands of low, heavy furniture in the center of the foyer towards a grand archway that framed a sweeping staircase of stone stairs. Many more people ascended the stairs ahead of them. Most of them wore uniforms and seemed to know each other.

They climbed the staircase a step at a time, for progress at the top of the stairs seemed slow. Duardo and Minnie chatted in low voices, laughing a little, taking no notice of their surroundings. Duardo had his hand on Minnie’s waist. Calli looked behind her when they paused for a longer moment, halfway up the flight. The stairs were thick with dark-haired, olive-skinned men and a few Vistarian women. Calli glanced at Minnie. Despite her dark hair and petite stature, Minnie stood out in sharp contrast to everyone there. Her skin was pale in comparison and her pixie-like features and huge eyes with their pale brown coloring marked her as foreign. A stranger. The only non-Vistarian standing on the staircase except for Calli herself.

Then Calli grew aware of the effect of her own gown and coloring. Straw-blonde hair, white skin, green eyes and a gown that added to the effect of insubstantial lightness. She licked her lips, her heart giving a little flutter. She must stand out like a sore thumb amongst these people.

The idea made her uncomfortable. She worried it over as they ascended the last few stairs and finally arrived at the top, standing before the big double doors that were apparently their destination. In her heels, Calli stood at least as tall as many of the men and could see between heads to the doorway—a formal greeting line had caused the delay.

Beyond the line she saw a large ballroom, with decorations in red and green, and the blue wisteria color that must be Vistaria’s national color. More people waited inside. More soldiers. More dark-eyed, sultry Vistarian women.

Calli leaned forward a little to catch Minnie’s eye. “What have you got us into?” she demanded.

“Only the party of the
year
, “ Minnie assured her.

“Screw that,” Calli shot back. “Do you realize we’re the only Americans here?”

Minnie looked puzzled. “And?”

Duardo patted Calli’s fingers where they rested on the inside of his arm. “It will be all right,” he assured her quietly. “You are with me.”

“Duardo, no offense, but I got chucked in jail last night because your fellow Vistarians took exception to me being in their country. Now we’re stepping inside a room full of patriotic Vistarians.”

“These are
good
Vistarians,” he said and frowned. “They know Americans help us. They would not be rude.”

Only slightly mollified, Calli allowed herself to be drawn forward, through the double doors and into the line of guests being received. Duardo, perhaps sensing her distress, did not chat with Minnie and leave Calli to her thoughts. Instead, he spoke to them both.

“General Blanco is a great man. He has been leading the army under President Escobedo’s direction for twelve years. Every year he has a big birthday party. Officers who have been honored throughout the year come and celebrate with him. It is a very important evening. Soldiers work hard to be chosen, so they will get to come here.”

“That’s you, right, Duardo?” Minnie asked. “You were honored?”

“Yes. I am chosen.”

“What did you do?” Calli asked.

For the first time she saw his upbeat mood slip. His smile faded just a little. “It was small. Nothing.”

She didn’t need a neon sign to know Duardo did not want to talk about it. “Okay,” she murmured.

“What’s nothing?” Minnie persisted. “What did you do?”

“I helped defend Vistaria. A little thing. You would be bored with the talk of it,” he assured her with his smile turned to full incandescence.

The smile dazzled her as he had clearly intended it to do, for Minnie smiled back. “You’re a hero, then, “ she said, just as they reached the beginning of the formal greeting line.

Duardo stood ramrod straight and held out his hand to shake it with the first officer in the line. “Captain Eduardo Peña y Santos,
señor
.”

The officer shook his hand and spoke—formal Spanish, Calli realized, pleased her ear could already distinguish between the day-to-day mongrel they used and true Spanish.

Duardo pulled her forward a little. “Major, may I present Miss Callida Munro, and Miss Minerva Benning. Miss Benning’s father, Miss Munro’s uncle, Joshua Benning, is the project manager of the Garrido Silver Mine on Las Piedras Grandes. Calli, Minnie, this is Major Alvarez, my commanding officer.”

“Miss Munro, Miss Benning,” the major murmured, dipping his head forward in a short little bow. He did not smile and Calli guessed he was displeased to see his junior officer with two American women on his arms. Nor did he offer his hand, but men here did not usually shake hands with women.

She smiled and murmured hello, then Duardo stepped up to the next person in line, a stout man in his fifties with a chest full of ribbons and gold braid everywhere. Undoubtedly, this must be the beloved General Blanco. Then she looked ahead to the next person in the line. Her thoughts scattered to the four winds and her heart seized in her chest.

Dark red hair, indigo eyes. He spoke to the person whose hand he shook, a small polite smile on his face.
Him
.

Her hearing seemed to fade, the noise around her blanketed to a dull far-off sound. Her heart beat, hard and heavy and her breathing was overly loud. Excitement gripped her, even as dismay settled into her bones. This was the man she had beggared herself in front of last night. Despite her shame, she studied him hungrily: The black tuxedo and a white shirt.
Was it silk
? her treacherous mind whispered and her hand itched to investigate for itself. One small step and she could lean forward a little and touch him. Barely five feet separated them.