Sooner or Later (18 page)

Marcie’s shoulders drooped, as if the weight of her thoughts had burdened her.

“I need to think about all this, Johnny. Jack,” she said, quickly correcting herself.

“Do that, baby.”

“There’s Clifford to consider.” She sounded worried.

“I know.”

“He’s been so good to me.”

“I’ll be good to you, too,” Jack promised.

“You don’t understand about Clifford.”

“I’m sure I don’t.” Belittling the other man wouldn’t be smart at this point.

“I’ll need time to think this over.”

“Of course you will.” It would behoove Jack to be patient. He wanted Marcie. Without too much trouble he could see himself falling in love with her.

Luke heard the sound
of the guards’ footsteps outside his cell at dawn. He was ready to die. He’d had weeks to mentally prepare himself for death. That the day would come on the feast day of St. Paul, the patron saint of Zarcero’s capital, was an irony of its own.

After he’d first been arrested, when the torture had been at its worst, when the unrelenting pain had kept him awake day and night, Luke had prayed for death. Later, when the agony became tolerable, he realized how very much he wanted to live. Thoughts of Rosita and their future together had lent him the strength to continue. To hope. To believe. To trust.

Now his life was about to be snatched away from him, along with the lives of four loyal youths. Innocents, whose only crime was their desire to save him from the hands of these butchers. There would be no last-minute reprieves. No dramatic rescues. This was the end.

The cell door opened, and despite the pain in his leg, Luke stood proud and tall. Soon he would be robbed of his life, but he refused to go kicking and screaming before his executioners. With his head held high and with as much dignity as he could muster, he placed two letters on top of the cot and boldly met his escorts. With one last glimpse of his cell, he prayed silently that his letters reached Rosita and Letty.

The smaller of the two guards roughly bound his hands behind his back and then shoved him forward with the butt of his rifle. Luke walked through the dark stone passageway into the light. Perhaps he was becoming fanciful in his final moments, but he felt that within minutes he would leave the ugliness of hate and vengeance and walk into the light of God’s love and forgiveness.

The sun blinded him as he was led out of doors. He squinted until he saw that Hector, Emilio, Juan, and Roberto were already in place. They stood against the wall, their hands tied behind their backs. Apparently they weren’t to be afforded the luxury of a blindfold.

Despite his determination to be strong, Luke experienced a painful tightening in his chest. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave all the things life might have held for him. He thought about Rosita and the love he felt for her and their unborn children. For the mission work he’d hoped to complete in Zarcero. For Letty, who would be completely alone now. He hoped that his death would be the catalyst that would convince her to marry Slim. The rancher had been more than patient with her.

Shoved forcefully by his captors toward the others,
Luke stumbled and his head bounced against the concrete wall. Pain shot through him, and for a moment he saw double.

When his vision cleared he noted that Juan and Roberto were both sobbing with fear. They were little more than boys. Neither one was yet sixteen. Hector looked as if he were in a state of shock and stared blindly into the distance. Sixteen-year-old Emilio had slumped to the ground, his legs no longer able to support him.

Background noise filtered toward Luke. The sound of women sobbing and pleading for mercy rose from outside the compound. The boys’ families, he guessed sadly. Luke knew that Rosita would be there, and his last thought before the firing squad raised their rifles was of her. He closed his eyes and prayed that God would take the love he felt for Rosita and place it in the heart of another man. One who would cherish her the way Luke would have had he been allowed to live.

He closed his eyes, prepared to meet the God he served.

“Wait.”

Luke’s eyes flew open as an officer marched across the compound with wide, purpose-filled steps. His gaze centered on Luke as he spoke to the soldier in charge of the execution. Luke didn’t know what was happening, but he noticed the way hope lit up his friends’ eyes. They stopped and looked to Luke as if he might be able to explain these strange happenings.

“Faith, my friends,” he whispered, wanting to encourage them.

During his captivity, Luke had met many of the army’s leaders, but he didn’t recognize this latest addition.

The two officers held a short conference. Soon a soldier marched forward and grabbed Luke by the upper arm and dragged him away from the others.

“Proceed.” The order was issued by the officer in charge of the firing squad.

“No,” Luke shouted, struggling. “No!”

His scream was obliterated by the sound of firing rifles. The shots echoed into the early morning, mingling with screams of terror. Luke twisted around to see the bloody, lifeless bodies of the four youths slumped against the wall. The scent of sulfur and death hung in the air.

His grief and horror, his sense of loss, were so keen that his knees gave out on him and he fell to the dirt. His stomach rioted and the contents surged up his throat. He gagged and vomited. He was no longer in Zarcero, he was in hell, in the very hands of Satan himself.

When he’d finished heaving, Luke was lugged into the commander’s headquarters and slammed onto a chair. He looked at the faces of the two men and felt nothing. No fear. No pain. Nothing.

The compound commander and the second man spoke quietly, but Luke paid them no mind. He felt as if his mind had isolated itself from the inhumanity of what he’d just witnessed, from the travesty committed against his friends. He dared not think about the lives of these innocents or he would go mad, so he sat completely numb.

“I’ve come to ask you about your family,” announced the officer who’d stopped the execution.

Luke glanced briefly in the rebel’s direction.

“Answer Captain Norte,” Captain Faqueza, the camp commander, shouted when Luke wasn’t immediately forthcoming.

“My family,” Luke repeated, still numb, still dazed.

“Tell me about your family,” the captain pressed.

“I belong to the family of God.”

His response warranted him a slap across the face.

“You have a wife?”

“No,” he whispered.

“A sister, then?”

Luke said nothing.

“These were found on his cot,” Commander Faqueza said, and placed the two letters Luke had left inside his cell on top of the desk. The other man reached for the first note.

“Letty.”

Luke’s head snapped up and he narrowed his gaze. “What’s my sister got to do with this?”

“Letty Madden,” Captain Norte repeated, having trouble pronouncing the English name. “I believe that was what the woman said her name was.”

“Letty’s here?” Adrenaline shot through Luke’s bloodstream, and he bolted upright and out of the chair.

He was forcefully shoved back down as Captain Norte paced in front of him. “I’ve met your sister and her friend.”

Her friend? Luke hadn’t a clue who that would be. Not Slim. Luke couldn’t imagine the rancher in Zarcero. Not now. Letty’s man friend would be completely out of his element in Central America at the best of times.

“What have you done with her?” Luke demanded.

“Nothing,” Norte said, and then added with a soft, demented laugh, “Yet, that is. Your sister has proven to be something of a nuisance. With the help of her troublesome friend, she’s managed to destroy a fuel dump, kill two of my men, and steal a jeep.”

“Letty?” Luke was incredulous. “You must be mistaken. My sister works for the United States Postal Service.”

Norte snickered.

“It’s true.”

“We had word of her friend’s capture recently, but unfortunately before we were able to question the man, he escaped. We believe your sister was behind that as well.”

“Letty?”

“Apparently she managed to drug the guard.”

“You have the wrong woman,” Luke said without emotion. He didn’t know what Letty was doing in Zarcero, but he prayed she’d leave while she could.

“I have a score to settle with your sister.”

Luke said nothing.

“And it seems to me that the way to get to her is through you.”

“He was sentenced to death,” Commander Faqueza complained, apparently upset that Luke hadn’t been shot with the others.

“He will die,” Norte replied confidently, “you have my word on that. But first I will use him as bait to trap two enemies of our people.”

Letty woke with a start
and bolted upright. She exhaled slowly and glanced around, finding her bearings. Yellow-cheeked parrots, egrets, and frigate-birds chirped a cheery greeting. She saw the boat and realized they were still on the river, but Murphy had secured it so they could both catch a few hours of badly needed sleep.

She wasn’t entirely sure what had woken her. For several moments her groggy mind refused to function. Then all at once a terrible sadness, a deep, soul-wrenching grief, pressed heavily against her chest. Alarmed, she flattened her hand over her heart, wondering at the strong, powerful sensation. It was Luke, she realized with a start. He was feeling this pain, and it was almost more than he could take.

“What’s wrong?” Apparently she’d inadvertently woken Murphy. He propped himself up on one elbow and studied her.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, battling back the waves of mind-bending sorrow. “All I know is that it has something to do with Luke. Something’s happened, something terrible. I feel his agony, his grief.” She didn’t look at Murphy, knowing he was skeptical of the emotional link she shared with her twin brother. “Murphy, we have to find him soon. Something really awful has happened…. Whatever it is has broken his heart.”

“We’ll be in San Paulo by afternoon,” Murphy said.

“We have to hurry,” she whispered, and buried her face in her hands until the sensation dwindled and faded.

“Take it easy, sweetheart, we’ll get there all in good time.”

“I’m worried.” She straightened and looked down the river, eager to be on the way.

He sat upright, yawned, and rubbed a hand over the side of his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, she noted, resisting the temptation to reach out and stroke his face. The desire surprised her. They’d shared a number of small intimacies since beginning this trip. Letty felt comfortable with him in ways she hadn’t with any other man, save her father and brother. Even Slim, the man she’d once felt she would marry.

“You’ve got that look,” Murphy muttered, and frowned at her as if he weren’t sure what to expect next.

“What look?” she asked, reaching for her backpack and running a brush through her tangled hair.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

Letty pinched her lips together. “You don’t need to worry. We’ll find Luke and be out of here soon enough, so you say. Then I won’t harass you with unpleasant looks.”

“I didn’t say it was unpleasant,” he snapped, reaching for his weapon. He leaped from the bow of the boat to the shoreline. “All I said was that I didn’t like it.” With that he disappeared into the bush.

Letty continued brushing her hair, convinced Murphy was by far the most disagreeable human being she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting.

She didn’t understand him. One minute he was snapping at her like a cantankerous turtle and another time he was holding her, comforting her, reassuring her that she wasn’t responsible for the sins of her mother.

At one point she’d offered him her friendship, which he’d soundly rejected, yet he was quite possibly the best friend she’d ever had. In the past week Letty had shared more confidences with this soldier of fortune than she had with her closest, dearest childhood friends.

Letty realized Murphy wasn’t interested in listening to her worries. He probably would rather she’d left them unspoken. Her concerns must have embarrassed him. She knew they did her and vowed that whatever was to follow, she would no longer burden him with her past.

Within half an hour they were chugging down the river once again. Letty sat at the far end of the boat, her back straight, fervently avoiding him. If Murphy had any complaints about her attitude, he left them unsaid.

They must have traveled two hours or more with
out speaking. Letty swore she’d swallow her tongue before she’d be the first one to speak. This too appeared to suit Murphy’s purposes. He had never seemed more content. He leaned back and whistled merrily, as if they were on a Caribbean cruise rather than a rescue mission to save her brother’s life.

“That’s the look I detest the most,” he said, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He leaned against the side of the craft with one hand on the engine.

“What look?” she flared, immediately angry with herself for reacting.

“That uptight prude look of yours.”

“I’m not a prude!”

Murphy laughed.

Letty folded her arms and glared at him. “Isn’t there anything you like about me?”

“Sure,” he returned lazily. “You’ve got one of the finest pairs of tits I’ve ever seen.”

Letty closed her eyes. “You are by far the most vulgar, crude man I’ve ever known.”

“Sweetheart, that’s a compliment.”

“Then kindly keep your
compliments
to yourself. You disgust me.”

Murphy grinned broadly, apparently well pleased with himself. “Yup,” he announced, “this is the way I like it best. You madder than a firecracker and me enjoying it. It doesn’t get any better than this.”

“Well, far be it from me to raise your level of consciousness out of the gutter. Not when you seem to enjoy it there so much.”

Murphy chuckled. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss the gutter, sweetheart. You meet lots of interesting people.”

“I can just imagine.”

“You know, it’s downright pleasurable baiting you.” He chuckled softly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do for fun once we’re finished with this mission.”

“I imagine you’ll find some other form of sordid entertainment.”

“I’m sure I will,” he said, continuing to be amused with himself, “but I have the feeling it won’t be nearly as enjoyable as my time with you.”

The long stretch of silence between them had seemed intolerable, but this conversation was worse. “How long before we reach San Paulo?” she asked, more as an effort to funnel the topic away from herself and to the matters at hand.

“An hour, possibly two.”

She sighed expressively. “Are you going to abandon me again?”

“Abandon you?”

“Yes,” she said sternly. “Twice now you’ve insisted that I stay outside the city while you go on alone to investigate. I’d like to remind you that both times have turned into unmitigated disasters.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes,” she returned emphatically. “You left me for ten hours outside of Siguierres. When I felt I had no choice but to check up on you, I discovered you making love with a whore in some sleazy cantina.”

“Just to set the record straight, I was gathering information.”

Letty rolled her eyes. “I can only wonder what you learned. When I found you, it was more than apparent that you were talking to her bosom.”

Murphy snickered loudly. “Don’t worry, your breasts win hands down over hers. She didn’t have near enough to satisfy me.”

“Would you kindly shut up?” He chuckled, and she knew he was baiting her, but she couldn’t help herself. “You know what your problem is?” she flared, unable to keep silent.

“No, but I bet you’re about to tell me.”

“First off, you don’t know how to talk to a woman—”

“I beg to differ. I can sweet-talk the best of them.”

“Hookers, you mean. But when it comes to dealing with a real woman, a lady of refinement and culture, you’re at a complete loss.”

He didn’t disagree with her, she noted.

“And so you do what you’ve always done,” she continued, “what has become, I would say, your expertise. You insult and berate what you don’t understand.”

He arched his eyebrows as if impressed with her insight. “From listening to you,” Letty went on primly, “I strongly suspect that you don’t have a clue of what it really means to make love.”

“Now just a minute—”

“You think of sex as a bodily function, sort of like shaving or brushing your teeth. Something mildly enjoyable when the mood strikes you. I sincerely doubt that you’ve ever really been in love. You’re absolutely ignorant of what it means to make love to a woman on an emotional level. The only plane that exists for you is the physical. You might well be the greatest lover in the world, or assume you are, but in reality, I pity you.”

The amusement faded from his eyes and he
clamped his mouth closed. Letty had said far more than she’d intended. Well, it would do him good to sample his own brand of medicine.

The rest of the morning they traveled the river, communicating only when it was necessary.

When they passed a fishing boat, Letty knew they must be nearing San Paulo. Her heart slammed against her chest with excitement. Soon they’d find Luke. And once Luke was safe, she’d be rid of this obnoxious, ill-tempered, unreasonable mercenary.

Unless, of course, he insisted on claiming his fee.

Murphy’s mood had turned foul after his discussion with Letty. She’d proved to be an easy mark. He enjoyed provoking her, indulging himself. This time, however, she gave as good as she got. What surprised him was how accurate she’d been.

What she’d said hit home. He didn’t know how to talk to a woman. His dealings with the opposite sex were generally linked to women of the night. He’d avoided relationships. The most meaningful time he’d spent with the opposite sex generally didn’t last longer than a pleasure-filled hour or two.

As for what she’d said about making love…there, too, he suspected she was right on. He’d been having sex for years, but he’d never really made love. Not that it plagued him, but he was left to wonder at the difference.

It was just past noon when Murphy found a safe spot to dock the boat. He considered leaving Letty while he ventured into the city, but he dared not. The
woman had a penchant for finding trouble, and the city would be a prime spot. He wanted her near so he could protect her if necessary.

They carried everything with them. Murphy found an honest-looking laborer who, for a fee, promised to return the boat to Aldo. The man agreed, claiming he had relatives in Questo, and personally guaranteed its safe return.

Following that, Murphy led the way into the city, taking the back streets, keeping Letty close to his side. It wasn’t long before he realized they’d walked into some sort of religious holiday. The streets were decorated, and an air of festivity floated about them. The natives were dressed in their best attire. Musicians played their instruments on every major street corner.

“What’s going on?” Letty asked.

“Hell if I know. It looks like a celebration.” All the better, Murphy felt. This was the first piece of good luck they’d had.

“We’re going to buy ourselves some clothes and join in,” he said, steering her toward an open-air shop.

The entire inventory hung from the shop’s ceiling. Blouses, shirts, dresses in a variety of sizes and colors, swayed in the gentle breeze.

Murphy wandered around, checking out the merchandise, hoping he’d find something to fit his bulky build. If he didn’t change out of the fatigues, he’d stand out like a pumpkin in a rice field.

No need announcing to the rebel troops that he’d arrived. With a fresh set of clothes, he’d be able to manipulate his way around town and blend in with the crowds.

He left Letty while he tried on a shirt and a pair of pants. There wasn’t a mirror inside the dressing room, but the transformation must have impressed her because she took one look at him and burst into giggles.

When Murphy saw his reflection, he understood why. The white cotton pants and shirt with multicolored embroidery on the wide pockets made him look something like a karate expert. The shop owner added a colorful cloth belt, insisting it was a necessary addition because of the feast day. The wide sombrero completed the transformation.

Luckily Letty already wore the traditional Zarcero dress. On impulse, Murphy bought her a lace shawl and a new pair of shoes. He paid for their purchases with cash.

“Where to now?” she asked once they were back on the street.

He grinned. “To the celebration, where else?”

“But—”

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

The center of town was a madhouse. The city square was jammed with citizens who were badly in need of an excuse to celebrate.

Soon after they’d made their way into the town square, a religious procession moved past. An altar boy carrying a large gold cross led the way, followed by the priest, dressed in full orthodox regalia. Behind him was another boy carting a three-foot statue of the Blessed Virgin. Following up the rear, in perfectly matched rows, were twenty other young altar boys.

As the priest walked past, those gathered in the city square blessed themselves. The priest waved a pot of
incense. Behind the religious procession came a platoon of marching soldiers. The gaiety fizzled, and a somber mood took root as the uniformed men filed past.

Letty edged closer to Murphy, and he could feel her fear. He placed his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he whispered for her ears alone. “They don’t see us.”

As soon as the small parade continued down the street and out of sight, the music started up once again. Men played guitars and sang, children raced across the lawn, and women congregated.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Murphy suggested. He was famished and knew Letty must be, too.

She nodded.

Taking her hand in his, Murphy led the way. If they were to get separated in this crowd, it would be close to impossible to find each other again.

He found a vendor and purchased a meal that consisted of a mixture of rice and meat, tasty and filling.

“Don’t talk,” he instructed as they sat on the grass.

“My accent is perfect,” she insisted, sounding downright insulted that he should suggest otherwise.

“I want to listen.”

“Listen?”

He nodded.

“Just what are we supposed to be doing?”

This woman was driving him nuts. “Pretend we’re lovers.”

Predictably, Letty blushed.

“We only have eyes for each other, understand?”

She nodded.

It wasn’t difficult to feign an infatuation for Letty, Murphy discovered somewhat to his chagrin. In fact, the role came far more naturally than he would have liked.

Every now and again he’d lean forward, brush the hair from her shoulder, and kiss her neck. Soon his head was nestled in her lap as he lay in the cool grass and stared up at the bright blue sky as though he hadn’t a care in the world.