Good Deed Bad Deed, Marcia Morgan [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

the course of her life in general. She would sooner end her career than use him for personal gain.

Both were startled from their deep thoughts by the pilot’s voice announcing the descent into Madrid—first in Spanish then English. They brought their seats upright and looked at each other, both letting out prolonged sighs. Disembarkation went quickly and without checked luggage to collect they were soon queued up for boarding the plane to San Sebastian. With less than five minutes to spare they were led across the tarmac and onto the commuter flight. Another delay before takeoff fueled Ben’s anxiety, although it was less than fifteen minutes before they were airborne once again. Flying at a lower altitude gave passengers clear views of the landscape: arid hills tumbling gently into irrigated pastureland; pockets of gray-green forest; roads resembling narrow ribbons strewn across the expanse; and small towns of pale stone and red tile where church spires reached toward the heavens.

Ana turned her gaze away from the window and toward Ben. “Considering the circumstances, I feel a little guilty being touched by all this beauty I’m seeing. If only the reason for this trip, this adventure, were happy—even romantic.”

Ben leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. “Me too. Spain has a reputation for being romantic. But the closer we get, the more muddled I feel about what to do first. I was just trying to apply logic when I said the first thing should be getting a place to stay.”

“I knew that. Try not to worry. I think that when the time comes, you’ll know exactly what to do, and if per chance you don’t, you’ll have me as backup.”

“I already told you! You will not get in the middle of any confrontations that might be ahead of us.” Ana’s expression told him to change his tone. He leaned toward her and in a near whisper continued. “You’re just going to function as a sort of ‘mission control’… a liaison between my father and his Interpol cronies—and my Mum. She will be a full time job. I just hope that she’ll be too busy with the other end of this debacle to involve herself in what’s going on here.”

Sounding serious, Ana replied, “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

It wasn’t long before they felt the plane begin its descent. Soon it banked, and came around to approach the landing strip. Neither had expected to see the Bay of Biscayne, and the view distracted them from the slightly rough landing. They stepped out of the plane onto the portable stairs and instantly felt the heat of northern Spain’s July sun. Its intense brightness was a startling contrast to the cool mists and soft colors of England.

The terminal was small, with only one baggage carousel. Ben collected their belongings then asked at the information kiosk for directions to the car rental desk. He was in a terrible hurry, and Ana had to scurry to keep up with him. The selection was meager, due to the time of day, and they had to settle on a small blue coup that would surely cramp Ben’s legs. They were given a map of the route to Pamplona and told it was a trip of about one hour. They hadn’t expected San Sebastian’s airport to be so near the French border.

As they exited to the parking area that housed the cars, Ben’s mobile rang. He answered right away, seeing the call was from his father. “Dad. What’s up? We just arrived. We’re headed to our rental car.”

Hugh could tell that Ben was walking and told him to stop and listen. “You need to write this down,” he instructed. “We’ve made reservations for you—two rooms at Gran Hotel la Perla. It’s close to a cathedral. It should be quite central—near the middle of things. I’m sure any taxi driver will know the property.”

“I’ll be driving, so I need an address.”

There was a momentary pause before Hugh continued. “Plaza del Castillo… Have you got that?”

Ben answered that he did, and his father made him promise to check in at least once a day for an update on their end of things. He explained that Interpol intended to have several men placed in Pamplona within 36 hours. He was insistent that Ben wait until they made contact with him at the hotel. Ben gave his father no reassurance, just said he understood what had been put in motion. The call ended, Ben shoved his phone back in his pocket and stood in the middle of the passageway without moving. Curious, Ana approached him and asked about the call.

“Everything is in motion,” he said. “They’ve booked two rooms at a hotel named Gran Hotel la Perla… It’s somewhere near a cathedral. I have the address.”

“See? I told you things would begin to fall into place once we arrived. Bless your father for thinking about a hotel. He and his contacts must have pulled some strings to get us two rooms when the town is so crowded with tourists.”

“Right. Let’s get going.”

His mind was elsewhere. He had no intention of waiting thirty-six hours to begin the search for his sister and Valerie. Ana spotted their assigned vehicle, and they gave it a quick once-over to spot any damage for which they could be held liable. The engine coughed a bit before warming up, and after two trips circling the roundabout, they found the route to Pamplona.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Earlier that morning an agricultural lorry filled with sheep had broken down, coming to a stop directly on the local railway tracks. The crossing involved was on the route between Swindon station and Paddington in London. It had been necessary to off-load the sheep in order to tow the lorry away. The sheep, however, saw the event as fortuitous and scattered every which way, some escaping into the nearby woods and some deciding to munch grass and weeds between the rails.

The McKinnons were running late and were concerned about missing their train.