“That’s fine, I can do it myself.” She slipped the dainty locket around her neck and fastened the clasp. At least he no longer seemed angry.
“Miss Bailey, it looks so pretty on you.”
Bailey fingered the heart-shaped locket, troubled that Joel would give her such a nice piece of jewelry that was no closeout. And she wasn’t buying for one minute that it was because of Maria. When a man gave a woman an expensive piece of jewelry, it meant something more than friendship.
That’s not a bad thing, Bailey. She raised her eyes to find his pale blue eyes studying her and instantly snapped her gaze to Maria. “Would you like to go to the ladies’ room and see how your necklace looks around your neck?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
She smiled at Joel. “If you will excuse us, we’ll be right back.” Her fingers found the necklace again. “And thank you, but you really shouldn’t have.”
“Indulge me.” He cleared his throat. “And before you go, I realize I’ve been a little grouchy today, but I hope you’ll chalk it up to my type A personality, plus it’s stressful letting Maria leave. When you two get back to Mexico, I’d like to take you out to dinner and make amends for my bad mood.”
“Why, ah, sure, that would be nice.”
She helped Maria out of the chair and led her inside to the restroom. Joel and her dating? Briefly the thought intrigued her. From what she knew about him, he’d worked his way through college, doing first one odd job then another, unlike Danny, who’d never worked hard at anything. Joel did seem like a good man under his sometimes grumpy exterior—after all, he was raising his sister’s child. It’s a dead end. She sighed. Why fight it? If nothing else, the experience with Danny taught her she wasn’t relationship material.
Bailey turned to glance back at Joel and froze. Father Horatio? It couldn’t be, but then his eyes met hers, and it was like staring into the eyes of a rattlesnake. He lifted an eyebrow, then shifted his gaze away from her.
She pulled Maria into the restroom and gulped air, trying to keep her breakfast down. What is he doing here?
“Miss Bailey.” Maria tugged on her hand. “Are you sick?”
Bailey swallowed hard and shook off her fear. It was only a coincidence. Elena had said he was in Chihuahua. And this was a popular restaurant. “I’m fine, sweetie. Let’s look at your necklace again.”
Maria turned first one way then another as she admired the locket in the mirror. “It’s so pretty. I guess Uncle Joel does like me.”
Bailey winced at the child’s words. Raising a child alone was a tough job, particularly a child who wasn’t your own. And of course there was that driven personality. “Of course he does. I’m sure sometimes he misses your mother quite a bit, and that makes him grumpy.” Bailey smiled at Maria. “Are you ready to go to the airport?”
Maria nodded slowly.
“Are you just a tiny bit afraid?”
Again the nod.
“Well, it’s very safe and feels like riding in a big car.” Not at all like Danny’s single prop plane.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I’ve flown bunches, and it’s really cool, looking out the window at the clouds. They almost look like cotton candy.” She tried to make the trip sound exciting.
“Really?” Maria smoothed back a strand of hair that had fallen across her face.
“Really. Would you like for me to put your hair up in a ponytail?”
“Yes, I would appreciate that.”
Maria’s vocabulary was far advanced for a four-year-old, and sometimes talking to her was like conversing with a tiny adult. More than anything, Bailey wanted to put a little fun in the child’s life.
Yes. This trip was going to be a good thing for Maria. And it would put her far away from Father Horatio.
3
Danny had long finished eating but couldn’t make himself leave or take his attention off Bailey. If ever there was an exercise in futility . . . With a sigh, he placed his napkin on the plate.
They were perfect for each other in so many ways. Bailey had a way of making him feel as though he could do anything.
“Maxwell Industries is your dad’s passion, and Ian’s,” she’d told him once, “but not yours. Think about it—you’re the last to arrive and the first to leave. So what’s your passion, Danny Maxwell?”
“You,” he’d said.
She’d laughed at him and told him he couldn’t make a career out of being passionate about her. But she never stopped believing that he was capable of great things.
Sometimes he wondered if his lack of focus was as big an obstacle to their relationship as . . . what? One night she accepted his ring, and a day later she gave it back with a rambling explanation about how she just couldn’t do it and had to answer her “calling.” The next thing he knew, she was in Mexico.
He didn’t understand why he continued to sit here, watching Bailey make eyes at Joel. When she accepted a small box from him, Danny’d had enough—time to leave. He asked for his check and once again noticed that the man who had been watching Bailey earlier continued to observe her.
However, when Bailey and Maria left the table, the man’s gaze didn’t follow them. It stayed at the table, on Joel. Something about the man seemed familiar. Abruptly the man stood and threw a handful of bills on the table.
Danny hesitated, torn between wanting to follow the stranger and staying where he could watch Bailey. For what, torture? His gut said to go after the man, and he usually followed his hunches. Placing enough money on the table to cover his bill and a generous tip, he stood and hurried to the street in time to see the man look away as a stocky Mexican climbed out of a car and stared at him. Danny followed as he strode purposefully toward a blue Jeep Cherokee parked half a block away.
“Hey, wait up,” he called in Spanish, but the man kept walking, and Danny jogged after him. “Can I—”
Gunshots rang out behind him.
Danny whirled in tandem with the stranger. Three men carried a slumped Joel from the restaurant while two more stood guard.
Bailey!
He sprinted toward them as Joel was thrown in the backseat of a waiting car, and two of the men hopped into the front seat. Tires squealed, and the car shot down the street. The other men dashed toward the restaurant, and Danny changed direction, going after them.
One of the men shouted a command: “Find the girl!”
They want Maria. Bailey wouldn’t let her go without a fight. To the death.
“Out of my way!”
He had forgotten the stranger who now shoved past him into the restaurant. Danny followed on his heels.
The room was empty. No waitress. No men. No Maria.
No Bailey.
Gunfire froze Bailey as she and Maria left the restroom. The shots were close. Too close.
“Miss Bailey, I’m scared.”
“We’ll be all right.” She tried to sound strong, but her feet refused to move. What if it was Father Horatio? And he was looking for her?
Men shouting. “Find the señorita!”
If they were after her, then it was Father Horatio. But why?
The waitress materialized in the hallway. “Follow me.”
With her heart jackhammering in her ears, Bailey almost missed the whispered words. The waitress motioned toward another hallway, and Bailey scooped the wide-eyed child up in her arms. “Shh, it’s going to be all right.” But was it? The back door was straight ahead, not the way the waitress led them.
What if she was leading them to the men? No. The waitress had been too kind.
Maria whimpered against her shoulder. Bailey hesitated, and the waitress motioned again. Something crashed to the floor in the dining room, spurring her forward into another hallway, then through a doorway.
They entered the kitchen, and the waitress whispered something to the cook. He jerked up a woven rug, revealing a trapdoor. While he lifted the door, she motioned them into the cellar. “Hurry!”
Bailey winced as Mar
ia’s fingers dug into her shoulder.
“Now! Hurry!” The Spanish words were more urgent.
She handed Maria to the waitress and scrambled down the steps. “What happened to my friend?” she asked, lifting her arms for the child. The pity in the woman’s eyes told her all she needed to know.
“They took him. Kidnapping, I think. Or they would have shot him dead on the spot. And now they’re searching for you two.”
Bailey’s throat tightened as she pulled Maria close.
The waitress put her finger to her lips before the cook closed the trapdoor over their heads, sealing them in the cool room. A cellar where they kept root vegetables from the smell of onions and garlic that permeated the air.
With her chest heaving in the pitch dark, Bailey felt for the wall beside the steps. They needed to get deeper into the room. Not for the first time, she wished she had her gun. But she’d left it in her apartment. She held Maria tight against her and used the wall to guide her farther away from the steps.
If the waitress was right, the men were after Maria for money. Kidnapping was so common in Mexico that wealthy people took out insurance in case they had to pay a ransom, but she never thought it would happen to one of her students . . . or her, especially since she had neither insurance nor money.
“Shh,” Bailey crooned as Maria whimpered, then pressed her lips against the girl’s ear and whispered, “Remember the school lesson last week? How Daniel survived the lions’ den?” In the darkness, she felt Maria nod. “God will take care of us, but we must be quiet.”
Why couldn’t she hold on to that truth? Why had her gun, and not God, been her first thought? She tried to focus on her breathing and slow her heart rate down, but waiting in the dark to be discovered made that impossible.
She held Maria tighter and struggled to release the tension that constricted every breath. Footsteps shook the boards overhead. Please let her stay quiet. A small cry escaped Maria’s lips. Adrenaline shot through Bailey. The door was thick. Maybe they wouldn’t hear her. She stroked the child’s arms, straining to hear the muffled words spoken, automatically translating them into English.
“Where are the woman and girl?” They wanted her and Maria.
She tightened her hold on the child. They would get Maria over her dead body.
Somehow she doubted that would be a problem for the men.
Danny pushed open the door to the kitchen. The waitress who had brought his food earlier stared at him with huge brown eyes. “The woman and girl, where are they?”
She stared blankly at him. The stranger who had followed him repeated the question in Spanish and received a torrent of words too fast for Danny to understand as she pointed toward the back door. The man jerked open the door.
“Hey, wait.” Danny followed close on his heels, almost bowling the guy over when he halted in the alley.
The narrow street was filled with delivery trucks backed up to doorways and people milling about. Danny caught a glimpse of one of the men he had chased into the restaurant a couple of blocks away, and he started after him.
“No. You do not wish to follow.” The stranger spoke in English.
Danny whirled around. “Who are you? And why not?”
“Angel Guerrera. And you do not wish to follow these men, Danny Maxwell, because they belong to one of our drug cartels.”
“How do you know?”
“They are the only ones who kidnap people.”
Danny eyed the lean Hispanic who stood shoulder to shoulder with him. While Danny might outweigh him, he would not want to tangle with the rock-solid Angel Guerrera. Something about him rang a bell. “I remember the name Angel from when I was a kid. Do I know you?”
“There are many named Angel in Mexico, but we met once, years ago when my father still lived. I recognized you—you look like your father the last time I saw him.” Angel’s mouth quirked. “And your Spanish still has a Mississippi accent.”
Fragments of memories came together. A trip to Mexico with his dad when he was twelve or thirteen. His dad to talk business with the owner of a ceramics factory, Danny to experience the country and speak the language his father had made him learn. A boy his own age named Angel—the son of one of the employees, he thought. But he couldn’t come up with anything else. “You have a good memory.”
“It was not often back then that I met an American my age.”
“You speak excellent English.” Like someone who grew up in the States but more formal.
“I spent some time in a Texas hospital not long ago, so I’ve had practice, thanks to the Calatrava.”
“So getting even with the Calatrava is your stake in this?”
“Sí.”
A weight lodged in the pit of Danny’s stomach. And now they wanted Bailey and the child in her care. Headstrong and stubborn described the woman he’d once thought he would marry, but this? What had she gotten herself into?
“Bailey and Maria could have ducked into one of the stores along the street. They could be anywhere,” Angel said. “Let’s go talk to the waitress.”
“How do you know them?”
Without answering, Angel turned and walked back into the restaurant. With one last glance down the street, Danny turned and followed him. “How will we find Bailey?”
“I saw you put something in her phone—your number, I assume. Once her head clears, she will call you.”
Wait, Danny had Bailey’s number. He jerked his phone out and scrolled to her name.
Angel grabbed his hand. “What if she’s hiding and her phone rings?”
Slowly Danny moved his finger away from the number. “How did you know I put my number in Bailey’s phone? Why were you watching us?”
A shrug was the only answer he received as Angel turned and called to the waitress they’d questioned minutes ago. She appeared almost instantly, and when Angel peppered her with questions, she shook her head. He spoke so quickly, Danny had trouble following his words. He didn’t have any trouble seeing that the waitress didn’t intend to tell them anything. “Did you call the police?”
“No. It would do no good. The men will not be arrested. Your friend is probably no longer alive.”
The finality of her words expressed a futility he knew nothing about. He glanced at Angel. “But we should.”
Angel shook his head. “You do not want to involve the police. It is possible they are on the payroll of the Calatrava. Instead, let’s go to your hotel and wait for her to call you.”
Waiting was the last thing he wanted to do. But Angel had already turned and walked out of the kitchen.
Danny turned back to the waitress. She knew more than she was telling. He just didn’t know how to get it out of her. “She was my fiancée,” he blurted.
For a second, hesitation wavered in her eyes, then the waitress shook her head. “Lo siento.”
He was sorry too. Danny took a card from his billfold. “What’s your name?” he asked in Spanish.
She hesitated, then pointed to the name on her shirt. “Solana.”
“Okay, Solana, if Bailey comes back, or if you decide to help me, call this number.” He circled his cell number on the business card before putting it in the girl’s hand. Maybe she wouldn’t trash it as soon as he was out of sight.
When he caught up to Angel outside the restaurant, Danny said, “She knows where Bailey is.”
“Probably, but she doesn’t trust you, and you will get nothing from her. If she thinks we are leaving, maybe we will discover something. Where’s your car?”
“Around the corner.”
“Then that’s where we want to go.”
No, that wasn’t where Danny wanted to go. He wanted to return to that kitchen and cajole the waitress into telling him Bailey’s whereabouts. But Angel was right. Danny had seen the suspicion in her eyes. “Do you think Bailey is still in the restaurant?”
“No. She is probably in one of the businesses along the street.”
“Then we should—”
<
br /> “What? Go knocking on doors? Do you think there’s a merchant on that street who will tell a gringo anything?” The look Angel gave him said more than the sarcastic tone in his voice.
Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to do something. His fingers automatically went to his phone again.
“Like I said before, if I had strange men after me, I think I would turn my phone off so it wouldn’t ring at a bad time.”
Danny ground his back molars. Angel was beginning to get on his nerves. “We need to report her missing. And Joel—we need to contact the police.”
“It will do no good, but if it will make you happy, there is a police station nearby. We can walk.”
Half an hour later, they exited the police building, and Danny shot Angel a “don’t say it” look. He said it anyway.
“I told you they would do nothing.”
“What’s with the police here?”
Angel sighed. “It’s like I told you, Calatrava pockets run deep, and the Federals who aren’t on the take . . . well, it takes a brave man to go against the cartel.”
Danny’s cell phone rang, and he jerked it from his pocket. “Hello?”
“Danny Maxwell?”
He held his phone out but didn’t recognize the number. “Who is this?”
“Solana.”
His heart ratcheted up a notch. “Have you heard from Bailey?”
“No.” She said something else, but he couldn’t follow her Spanish.
“You’re speaking too fast for me. Slow down, or speak in English.”
“Your friend, she left a bag with medicine. Come to the cafe.”
“I’m a couple of blocks away. I’ll be right there.” He turned to Angel. “Let’s go back to the restaurant.”
“What’s going on?”
“Maybe Solana is ready to talk to me.” In less than five minutes, Danny rounded the corner to the restaurant and continued around to the back alley. At the door he knocked, and a beefy Mexican opened it. “I’m looking for Solana,” Danny said.
The big man nodded and stepped out of the way.
Silence in the Dark Page 3