Luca moved around the room slowly and then came to stop next to his brother. “It’s not hers,” he said softly. “She’s alive.”
Etán’s phone rang. Not removing his eyes from the blood pool, he removed it from his jacket and looked at the caller ID.
“Unknown caller,” he said to Franc.
Franc held up his hand, motioning for Etán to wait until he had switched to a secure channel on the communication system, which allowed them access to the call. He inserted the mike in his ear, and then nodded.
Etán answered the call.
“Etán?”
His knees weakened as he heard her voice on the other end of the line. “Zenna! Where are you?” He spoke quickly, striving for calm. “We’re at the service station.”
“I’m in someone’s flat, hiding from Zako. He’s still after me. He shot Santiago.”
“We’ll get to that. First, give me the address.”
“Wait.” He heard her speaking to someone, and then another female voice came onto the line. “Hola?”
“Can you give me your address?”
The woman rambled down an address. Etán looked at Franc and Godoy. The latter was punching the street address into the GPS.
Franc looked over Godoy’s shoulder. “Got it.” He gave Etán a thumb’s up sign. “It’s close.”
“We’re on our way. Can you stay on the line with me?” Etán asked the girl.
“I think you better hurry,” she said.
Once at the location, Franc’s men secured the block and the surrounding streets before they moved. When they reached the entrance to the flats, Etán noticed Luca’s tenseness.
“Are you all right?”
Luca nodded. “Bastards. I’ll kill them with my bare hands,” he mumbled. “She’s frightened. Feels like a failure. Anxious. She’s going to need a lot of time to live this down.”
“If anyone is a failure, it’s me,” Etán said, moving up the stairs ahead of Luca.
“You’re no cop, man,” Luca protested from behind, “or a bodyguard. You couldn’t prevent it. It’s not your fault.”
“No,” Etán retorted bitterly, “it only happens to the women around me.”
“It’s not like that, Bro. You couldn’t know...”
Etán shot him a dark look before he turned his attention back to the one door he couldn’t wait to walk through.
They knocked. The couple who opened the door backed away in shock as the small party of armed men stormed into their apartment. Etán’s eyes flew around the room. She stood to the side with bruised legs, bare feet, her hair wild around her face, and her clothes dirty. He leaped at Zenna and grabbed her. He had to be certain she was real, that he was in time, and that she was unharmed. His hands stroked over her body, automatically checking for injuries.
“We’re here,” he said as he cradled her body against his.
Luca approached the frightened couple. “It’s all right. We just have to make sure the flat is secure. We’re not going to harm you.”
The man spoke. “What’s going on? This is crazy shit.”
Franc emerged from the adjoining bedroom he had been searching. “The less you know, the better for yourselves.” He came to stand in front of the couple. “This is a rather delicate matter. Can I rely on your ... discretion?”
The man raised his hands. “Of course. Anything.”
“Did you exchange names, information, with her?” Franc nodded in Zenna’s direction.
The couple shook their heads in simultaneous denial.
“Good.” Franc looked at the man. “Seen anything strange? Anyone after her?” He pointed with his thumb in Zenna’s direction.
“No.” The man shook his head again.
Hooking his thumbs into his leather belt, Franc looked at he couple in silence for a few seconds. “This has never happened, understood?”
“Sure,” the girl said.
Franc took a thick envelope from his combat jacket pocket and handed it to the girl. “For your trouble.”
She only nodded.
When Etán led Zenna to the door, she looked back. “Thanks.”
As they made their way to the waiting car, Zenna decided it was a door she wanted to close and never think of again. That luxury would not quite yet be granted her. She would stop thinking about it only after she had suffered Franc’s relentless interrogation in the car.
She told them everything she had seen, from the American’s anaconda shoes to Zako’s bluestone cross. She gritted her teeth and bore the interrogation in the backseat of the Mercedes, even as Etán protested she was too shaken and too tired to be put through it. She did it because she felt guilty for having put Etán and his family through her ordeal. She felt responsible for ruining his launch.
As her delayed reaction to the shock started to kick in, her body started shaking violently. Another wave of nausea swept through her. Etán held her close, pulling her under his arm. He kissed her hair, her neck, and her hands. When his mobile rang, he only took the time to remove it from his pocket and hand it over to Luca, before putting his arms around Zenna again.
Luca looked at Etán. “It’s Mom.”
He listened for a long time. “I understand.” He closed the phone and handed it back to Etán. “Mom has managed to track the bastard who’s behind this.” He didn’t say how, but Etán’s look told him he understood. “Dad is arranging for an anonymous tip-off to the special forces. I presume the son of a bitch will be in custody before day breaks.”
“Good,” Etán said with so much hatred, Zenna tilted her head up to look at him.
Chapter Fourteen
A brooding feeling descended on Etán as he watched Zenna in the new hotel room they had taken not far from their last. Too damn close, as far as he was concerned. She was wrapped in the hotel’s white gown, a towel around her wet hair. She had stepped from the shower she stubbornly insisted on having, when all Etán wanted to do was to get her the hell out of town. The faster, the better.
Despite his concern, he forced himself to keep his demeanor calm and his feelings carefully hidden as he got up from the sofa where he sat waiting. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll be fine. I wish you wouldn’t insist on dragging me through this whole doctor examination thing. You don’t know how much I hate it.”
She had told him how, as a child, her mother had dragged her from one doctor to the next once her strange ability started to materialize. He felt sorry she had to go through it, but there was no other way. He wouldn’t risk her health too. Having risked her safety was already too much.
“I wish you wouldn’t be so hardheaded. You should have let me take you home straight away.”
“I told you, whether we’re here, or there, won’t make a difference. They now know where to find me.”
“I have more control over your safety at home. We can more easily guard the perimeters.”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry I dragged all of you into this. It was never my intention. I thought maybe, for this once, I could get lost somewhere. I never thought they would have tracked me all the way here.”
He looked at her intently. “They didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Franc’s men caught the man you described, the one called Zako. The police picked up an American, a man known as Xavier. He worked for an underground organization that sells military secrets to politically right countries. These people, the ones who have been after you in England, have sold the information about you to their local connections. It must be a powerful organization, Zenna. We’ve only uncovered the tip of the iceberg.”
“What about Santiago?” She shuddered.
“No trace of the body yet.”
“What are we going to do?”
“My father has some contacts. He is going to make a few calls to speak to the right people, and I’ve already contacted Enrique. The only way forward is for you to come clean. You’ll be a murder accomplice if you don’t. You have to go to the authorities and
explain what happened.”
“What if they’re involved? If they are behind whoever is after me?”
“There’s nothing that points in that direction. You have to protect yourself, by learning to control you mind. Fast.” He stressed the last word. “My mother believes she can help you.”
Zenna walked to the mirror and pulled the towel from her hair. She shook the wet strands. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I think I need to deal with this without involving you further.”
He moved to her and came to a stop behind her. “Then what? Do you want to start running again? How will you keep on escaping that kind of powerful onslaught? Will you risk leaving a country you’ve been forbidden to leave by court order? Are you going to push all of this to the back of your mind, trying to forget the trauma of what happened to you, what you’ve seen?”
She turned her head away, avoiding his gaze that stared at her in the mirror. “I’ve always managed. I’ll cope again.”
“You can’t keep on running. Let’s go home.”
“No. Going home would be like running. I’m staying here. I’m finishing this launch. There are only two more nights left.”
“They know you’re here, Zenna.”
“Yes, but some of their team members have been arrested and a part of their operation exposed. I’m no fool. I know both the American and Zako are going to be tortured until they give up more information. Whoever is part of it, is going to lie low for a very long time. At least until the dust settles on all of this.”
“Maybe, but I’ll feel a lot more relaxed with you at home.”
“How do I know the government isn’t going to grab me now they know why Santiago and Zako kidnapped me?”
“The only way is for you to tell the truth. To make a statement in public and to get control over your mind to reduce your vulnerability.” He looked at her with remorse. “I hate to do this to you, but there is a detective outside who wants to question you about the kidnapping and the shooting. He is going to ask if you want to lay charges. He won’t see you until the doctor has examined you and given the go-ahead. So before I send in the good doctor, I need to know you’re going to work with me.”
She considered her options. “All right,” she said. “I’ll come clean and learn to control my mind.”
He felt relief, but the worry didn’t completely disappear from his mind. “It takes time. It won’t be fast enough.”
“You don’t really think they‘re going to be stupid enough to try and grab me here again, do you?”
“All I know is that they are powerful, dangerous, and unpredictable. There’s no telling what they would or wouldn’t do. I don’t want to risk you.”
“Risk me?” She turned, leaning onto the dressing table in front of the mirror.
His eyes roamed over her, his hands going to her hips. He pulled her close to him, pressing her against his chest. “I couldn’t think about what might have happened to you, had you not gotten away.”
She raised her face to look at his. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me, Etán. I just want to get on with my life.”
“You will. You’re going to have to see a therapist to help you deal with the trauma.”
She pushed away from him. “Right now, I want to sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll deal with the therapist and my future.”
He nodded in resignation. “First, there’s a doctor and a detective waiting. I’ll be right outside if you need me. The guards in front of your door won’t budge. Don’t go anywhere without telling me.”
When she remained quiet, lost in thought, he left, closing the door quietly.
* * * *
The following evening, Ana and Etán watched Zenna talk to the journalists in the reception hall foyer of the hotel. Dressed in a long, red dress that fell softly around her curves, high red heels, her hair blow-dried straight, the highlights catching the foyer lights, she looked anything but traumatized or victimized. The long dress covered the superficial cuts and bruises from the previous night’s ordeal. Her demeanor showed nothing but charm.
Etán’s gaze followed her as she made introductions and gave explanations of interview and photo opportunities. “She shouldn’t be doing this. It’s too soon.”
Ana smiled at her oldest son. “You can’t wrap her in cotton wool, Etán. Look at her. She’s very strong.”
Desperation he didn’t want to show filtered into his voice. “It’s too dangerous and too soon.”
“The doctor said she was fine.”
“It’s not her physical state I’m worried about. Both Luca and I knew from the moment we found her yesterday that she wasn’t injured seriously. I’m worried about the mental and emotional scars.”
Ana stroked his arm gently. “You’re over-protective, Etán. If you treat her less like a little sister and more like an equal, she’ll maybe resist you less.”
Etán’s head turned quickly. “Are you accusing me, like Luca did, of treating her like a lost sister, too? I won’t go there so don’t even try.”
Ana’s eyes were compassionate. “She is stronger than you think. I know why you fear, but she may surprise you. The fact she’s here and not running is a good sign. I am going to start working with her as soon as we return to Santiago. My friend promised to help. We’ll make quick progress, I’m sure.”
“In the meantime, I’m a walking ball of fire. I’m afraid to let her out of my sight.”
“Afraid or unhappy?”
“What are you saying?”
Before Ana had a chance to reply, Zenna walked up to them with a journalist and photographer on her heel. She smiled at Etán.
“Etán, this is a reporter from The Wine Connection. He would like a photo of you.”
Etán smiled stiffly. “I’m not very comfortable in front of the camera.” He put his hand on his mother’s back. “My lovely mother would make a prettier photo.”
The journalist wasn’t going to give up easily. There weren’t many photos of one of the most famous winemakers in the world in the press. “Congratulations on your nomination as Enologist of the Year. I’m sure a photo of you with the lovely lady will be even better.”
Ana sidestepped the journalist. “Please, my son will be happy to be photographed. I have to go and meet my husband now.” She walked off, leaving Etán slightly off-balance. Before he could protest, the journalist moved him into the light, and the photographer snapped away.
“Thank you, senor Perez-Cruz,” the journalist said politely when they were done.
Etán nodded tightly. When the journalist walked away, Etán turned to Zenna. “You know I hate photos.”
She smiled prettily. “I know, and you know I hate doctors.”
His eyes locked onto hers. His hand lifted to her face, his fingers caressing her cheek.
“Revenge?” he asked tenderly. He was still sorry she had been subjected to something she hated so much.
At that moment, a bright flash disturbed their private moment. They both spun around just in time to see the photographer lowering his camera. Before Zenna could say anything, he waved, turned, and left.
The evening dragged on until the early morning hours. Finally, Zenna had to admit she had bitten off more than she could chew. She was exhausted. She watched the small groups of guests with lifting hope as they started to disperse. People trailed off to the exits, some coming up to say their goodbyes.
The shock of the previous night’s drama set in with a strange delayed response. She had been so brave the night before. How could she be so apprehensive now? Several times during the evening, she had caught herself glancing over her shoulder. The last thing she wanted was to become paranoid. Yet she couldn’t help checking to see if she was being watched. Pedro had assured her the talk she had had with his contact from the police that morning had gone well. She had described everything she had seen and that had happened. For the first time in her life, she had confessed to what she was. A seer. An untrained visionist.
Enrique had flown up
for the questioning, which had taken most of the day. When she had gotten back to the hotel, she had submerged herself into overseeing the preparations for the second launch evening. They couldn’t accommodate all the people in one sitting and had to split the event over two evenings.
Now, she was tired to the bone and afraid. More than anything, she felt alone. She thought about Marcos, about what could have been if he hadn’t walked out on her. If he had stayed, they could have been discussing their wedding plans now. Maybe he would have taken her to the mountains where he used to be a ski instructor. They would have built a fire in the fireplace, and she would have been lying in his arms, watching the flames, one of their favorite pastimes. They would have talked about who to invite to their ceremony and where to have the reception. She would have been busy making friends, getting ready for college, and choosing a wedding gown.
There was something wrong with the picture. The face she saw in her imaginary setting wasn’t Marcos. It was a famous winemaker’s. A very unavailable winemaker.
She looked at her bare hands. She never even had an engagement ring. Marcos had asked her to get married the night before he had to leave England. He had done it on impulse. He had promised her a ring once she arrived in Chile, but she didn’t even have that as proof he had proposed to her.
Taking a glass of champagne from a forlorn waiter still doing the rounds, she leaned against the wall. She suddenly needed the warmth, the relaxation, she knew would come with the drink. She was alone. Almost a spinster, and she had given away her cat. There was nowhere left for her to go. She wasn’t even sure she would be welcome in her mother’s house.
It was with a pang of guilt, and shock, she realized she had not spoken to her mother since her fight with Marcos. She had put it off, not knowing how to explain and not wanting the humiliation of everyone back home knowing the truth. She knew her mother would not waste time in spreading the word.
They weren’t close, Zenna and her mother. They didn’t speak to each other more than a few words every so often anyway. Zenna looked around her with unseeing eyes. Truth be told, she could have died last night, without having even spoken to her mother.
The Winemaker Page 20