Fields' Guide to Abduction, - [famous ebook reader TXT] 📗
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When my fingertips puckered, I stood and wrapped myself in a fluffy bath sheet.
My bottom and lower back ached. My collar bone outright hurt. There were bruises all over my body. My feet were a mess of blisters. And my face—I avoided looking in the mirror.
Hopefully Jake’s mark wouldn’t scar.
“Señorita Fields?”
Manny had returned.
“Give me a minute.” I slipped into the La Perla pajamas Javier had provided, pulled on a robe, and emerged from the bathroom. “Is there someone who can throw those clothes away?”
Manuel nodded, picked up the ruined jods, sweater and underthings with the tips of his fingers, and tossed them into the hall outside my room. “They smell.”
He didn’t have to tell me.
“Like a goat.” I wrinkled my nose. “Someone transported livestock in that truck.”
“Muy apestoso.”
I had no idea what that meant but I smiled at him.
He smiled back. A shy smile with a hint of gentleness. “Let’s check you out, then you can go to bed.”
I glanced at the veranda where Almost-Grizzly’s body had fallen.
“Do not worry. Señior Diaz has tripled the patrols. You will be safe.”
I was more worried about seeing a pool of blood.
Manuel had antiseptic cream for my cuts and blisters. He tsked over a few of my bruises but there wasn’t anything he could do to treat them. “The good news is nothing is broken. The best thing for you is sleep. I will check on you in the morning.”
I crawled into bed certain I’d spend the rest of the night staring at the ceiling.
Apparently murder, kidnapping, and failed rescues take a lot out of a woman. I slept till noon, stretched, and realized I was starving.
I picked up the phone on the bedside table. “Hello?”
“Buenos dias.”
“May I have something to eat?” My stomach rumbled. “Please?”
“Si.”
I hung up the phone and stumbled into the bathroom where the mirror showed me my face and the red Z on my cheek.
Even if the cut did scar, I couldn’t complain. In the clear light of a new day, I knew the cut had probably saved my life.
A few minutes later, someone tapped at the door.
“Come in.”
A plaid-shirted sicario wheeled in a silver cart filled to near collapse with covered dishes. There was bacon and scrambled eggs and warm tortillas. There were sliced avocados, salsa, fresh fruit, and an enormous tray of pastries. Best of all, there was a pot of coffee and cream.
“Gracias.” The word couldn’t adequately convey my gratitude.
“De nada.” He left me with enough food for ten people.
I helped myself to eggs and bacon and a cup of coffee.
Scritch, scritch.
“What in the world?”
Scritch, scritch.
Certain it was locked, I tried the door to the hallway. It opened easily and Consuela raced into my room.
Yip. She pulled back her lips and showed me her teeth.
“No.” Calm and firm—that was the way to handle dogs.
Consuela snarled at me.
“No.”
Consuela’s buggy-eyes bugged a bit more.
Had no one ever told her no?
Grrrr.
“No.”
Consuela sat down on her petite haunches and looked at me—considering.
“Do you want a bite of bacon?” I asked.
Apparently bacon transcended our language barrier and her dislike of women and strangers. Her tail wagged.
I broke off part of a slice, gave it to the little dog, and resumed my brunch.
Yip. Consuela looked up at me expectantly.
“One more bite. Too much will make you sick.”
I finished my meal with Consuela curled at my feet then changed into one of the dresses Javier had selected for me. Grecian in cut, it flowed loosely around me, showing of every bruise on my arms and collar bone. The shoes weren’t happening—not with my blisters.
I padded back to the telephone. “Thank you for breakfast. Would someone please come get the cart?”
“Si, señorita.”
I settled onto one of the club chairs to wait. Consuela settled onto my lap.
Knock, knock.
Consuela’s ears perked but she didn’t move.
“Come in,” I called.
The man who’d come to collect the cart saw Consuela on my lap, paled, and crossed himself. “Madre de Dios.”
Consuela growled at him.
“Shhhh,” I told her. “That’s not nice.” Then I turned to the man. Was wearing a plaid shirt and a mustache a condition of employment? “Please leave the coffee.”
“Si.” With one eye on Consuela, he collected everything but my cup, the coffee pot, and the cream, then scuttled out into the hallway.
When the door clicked shut, I scratched behind Consuela’s ears. “What did you do to scare these men so badly?” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I need your secrets.”
Knock, knock.
The door to the bedroom opened before I could respond.
Good thing I wasn’t naked because Javier entered without an invitation. He wore a charcoal gray suit. In the cream and white bedroom, he was a slash of darkness. “I had to see this for myself. That dog won’t tolerate anyone but Ignacio.”
Consuela, who was curled in my lap like a cat, drew her lips back and snarled.
He snorted softly. “See what I mean?”
I scratched behind her ears. “She’s just misunderstood.”
Javier crossed the room. He stood too near my chair. He loomed over me. “Did you bribe her?”
“Of course not.”
Consuela burped.
“Did you give her some of your breakfast?”
“No.” I lowered my face to Consuela’s and she licked my nose with her little pink tongue.
The twist of his lips said he didn’t believe me. “Are you feeling better today?”
“I am.” I touched my marked cheek. “Thank you for asking.”
“Have you remembered anything more about the man who abducted you and killed Joaquim?” A woman could cut herself on the edge in Javier’s voice. “That Zeta?”
“No.” The key to a successful lie was keeping it simple. If I embellished my story, I’d get caught.
“I find it amazing the Zetas knew you’d be here.”
“Where else would you hide me?” I kept my tone mild and looked up at him with Chariss’ best innocent expression.
“Ignacio has other houses.”
“Maybe they sent people to those houses too.”
Javier’s lip curled. “Yes. But why did they want you so badly? An infiltration into the heart of a Sinaloa was an enormous risk.”
The man didn’t believe me. He hadn’t believed me last night. Or did he? Did he know about the drive?
My hand, petting the little dog in my lap, froze.
Why was I still alive?
“Such a mystery.” He took the chair across from mine. “I’m glad your injuries weren’t more serious. Manuel tells me aside from the cut on your face you suffered nothing more than a few bruises and blisters.” He shifted his gaze to my bare feet. “You are very lucky.”
“Lucky? That’s not the term I’d use.”
“You wouldn’t?” Did he mean I was lucky he hadn’t handed me over for a gang rape before cutting off my head cut? Or perhaps he meant I was lucky Ignacio Quintero wanted me alive. For now.
I cleared my throat. “Lucky would be sitting on the terrace of my house in Malibu without a single thought about murder or kidnapping or cartels.”
“I’m sure after you spend a few days with Ignacio, the thought of home will seem even sweeter.”
What the hell did that mean?
Consuela lifted her head and growled.
“I must know, if you didn’t bribe her, how did you win over the dog?”
“I grew up with dogs.”
“So did every man here.”
“Well, maybe she really does like women.”
He shrugged. “She’s nothing but trouble. If it were up to me, I’d feed her to the lions.” Was he talking about Consuela or me?
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