Songs for Perri

by Nancy Radke

  Perri was left alone once more, but strengthened and encouraged by his praise.

  Scorpion here. Two words. They must mean something. Her mother’s words finally made sense to her. Also why she was so insistent that Perri take the pendant.

  It was late and she prepared for bed, trying to run a comb through her long hair and finally giving up. She'd have to wash it in the morning, dry it and then comb it. The salty sea air made it look gorgeous, but the salt also acted like a stiff and unyielding hair spray. She didn't have the energy to wash and dry and brush it tonight.

  Hugo liked it. Thinking about him, she wondered if he changed into his Donegal outfit when he practiced with his band or if he stayed Hugo Brandt. Probably he had to change, in case someone walked in on the practice session. He should be enjoying himself right now with his group. He had high praise for the men who worked with him, especially his manager, Michael Cowan.

  Hugo. As she washed her feet in cool water, his image appeared before her eyes. She had thought she was falling for him, yet she had felt a quickening of interest when Joe had smiled and taken her hand and especially when he'd lifted her hair.

  She hadn't seen as much of Joe because of his job, but her senses responded to him...an attraction was definitely there. In many ways he reminded her of Owen. No man had ever come close before.

  Perhaps it was all just physical reaction — with both Hugo and Joe. Not love, just gratitude caused by a helping hand when she needed it.

  One thing was sure; with her mixed-up feelings she had better be careful not to commit herself to either one. When Owen was safe, then she would see if she was still interested in furthering an acquaintance.

  Should she avoid Hugo and go by herself tomorrow?

  It was not her choice, as Perri discovered, for Hugo was waiting for her when she walked away from the bank of elevators Monday morning. He joined her silently, holding the door open and then steering her towards another small cafe for breakfast.

  "Where to today?" he asked cheerfully, after they had ordered.

  "I think I'll play tourist in the Golden Zone. Some of the better shops are located there."

  "The Golden Zone it is," he agreed, ready as always to fall in with her plans.

  They caught a pulmonía, hanging on as the little car threaded its way along the street, leaving them on the outskirts of the area. Soon they were winding their way through the closely packed booths and permanent stores, with Hugo pointing out pieces of pottery, figurines woven from straw, place mats, tapestries and paintings—whatever took his fancy.

  Actually Hugo's taste was remarkably close to what Perri liked. They wrote down names and items and prices, making notations of items she might want for the store.

  As usual, they were constantly approached by the street vendors, which was the only thing Perri didn't like about shopping in the Zone.

  Hugo relieved her of the burden of telling them "no" over and over, and she was glad to let him do it. She used to try to explain, but that took too much time...there were so many of them.

  It would have been the most enjoyable work Perri had ever done, having Hugo help her...except for the constant nagging worry of making contact with Owen. Her eyes swept over the displays of goods to linger instead on the crowd of people around them. How would Owen spot her in this busy place?

  They went clear through the Zone on one street, then worked their way back again on another. She was not approached. Was it because she was not alone?

  How could she get rid of Hugo long enough for Owen to contact her?

  Anna. Hugo avoided her. Perri decided that if she could arrange it, she would spend a short time with Anna, then go for a walk through the Zone.

  That evening Perri called her and asked if there was anything she'd like to do. Anna suggested the Mayan show. Having never gone before, Perri agreed.

  The show was held in a walled courtyard containing a stage and tables. Joe entered soon after they did, and was seated close by. Since the tables were reserved, he hadn't much choice; also the solidly walled area around the show prevented him from watching her from a distance. He was dressed conservatively and was by himself.

  Further away, Carl Freedman was seated, also alone, but both men were close enough to get picked into going up on the stage during parts of the show that called up members of the audience.

  Joe went up, good-naturedly and was able to perform quite well in the foot-stomping dance they asked him to do. He had a keen sense of rhythm that picked up the beat and enabled him to move to it. Watching him respond to the music, Perri decided he'd make a good dancer.

  Anna thought the same, saying, "That one's good."

  Perri agreed, but gave no indication she knew him, and he ignored her; but several times during the performance she realized he was watching her and not the show.

  "Look," said Anna, tugging at Perri's hand and drawing her attention away from where it had strayed again—to where Joe was sitting. "Up there," she directed.

  The spotlights were now on a tall pole and the five men dressed in Mayan costume who were climbing it. There was a circular framework at the top, and they climbed out on it, causing Perri to cover her eyes for a second. She had heard someone tell about this part of the show, which was why she hadn't bothered coming before.

  "Watch this," Anna insisted. "It's the highlight of the evening."

  Perri tipped her head back and tentatively opened one eye. It was as she thought...one man was now standing on the top, while the other four were each attaching a rope around their waist.

  What was it they did next? Something not quite sane....

  At that moment the four dropped away from the platform, and Perri's gasp could be heard throughout the enclosed court. The platform began to turn, around and around as the ropes gradually unwound until they reached the ground. The man left on top slid down in like spectacular manner, but Perri had closed her eyes again and refused to completely watch his descent.

  "You missed it." Anna exclaimed.

  Perri peeked, making sure they were all on the ground. "I saw enough!"

  "But they were tied on."

  "I don't care; heights terrify me. I hadn't realized the act would bother me so much."

  "I'm sorry, I didn't know—”

  Perri waved aside her apology. "The darkness of the night around the pole emphasizes its height. Even though I didn't climb up myself, I could feel the tremendous void opening beneath the performers."

  She hadn't realized it was such a long show, lasting late into the night. Perri was so exhausted she decided her "night out" without Hugo hadn't been worth it. She declined Anna's invitation to come to her room and chat, pleading a tiredness she didn't have to fake.

  As they crossed the hotel lobby, they came face to face with the taxi driver/guide.

  "I have to speak to you," he said, looking directly at Perri. "Privately." His dark eyes glowed with anger.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "I'll see you tomorrow," Perri told Anna, and the redhead nodded and moved toward the elevators.

  The man kept his voice low. "What kind of game are you playing? We went to the beach yesterday, the one where the hotel was abandoned. We saw no one."

  "You did? Joe said—”

  "Who is he? What does he look like?"

  Perri glanced sideways, to where Joe was standing, watching her. Was he really one of Walt's men? She hadn't heard directly from Walt. Yet Joe had to be who he said he was. He knew about the pendant.

  So was this man really a friend of Owen's? How could she tell?

  The man was gazing at her intently. "Can you give me some proof you're from Owen?" Perri asked.

  "You're as cautious as he is. In a way, I can. He called you "Scary Perri" while you were growing up. He said you used to hate it."

  Perri smiled. The childhood nickname brought Owen close. And it would be a hard piece of information to get if he didn't know Owen well. Yet, Joe's warning made her tell him to try the beach again. "If no on
e shows, I'll have to see what's the matter."

  The next morning she overslept, but Hugo was still waiting for her when she came down, sitting patiently in the lobby. This time they went down the Camaron Sabalo, the main street, Perri investigating every corner of the busy shops. She had a hard time acting like she was interested in buying the items displayed, for all she wanted to do was look at people's faces to see if she could spot Owen. Until Joe told her contact had been made, she would continue to search.

  "It's siesta time," Hugo declared around two-fifteen, his hand snagging her wrist firmly and pulling her to his side. "Let's eat and rest."

  Perri allowed herself to be led to a semi-enclosed restaurant with sidewalk tables, where Hugo ordered tropical fruit drinks for them both. They sank down at one of the shaded tables outside and rested in silence, watching the slackening of activity as people slowed down during the hotter time of day.

  "Here, Perri, drink some more of this. You push yourself too hard for the heat in this country. You need to cool off.” Hugo handed her a tall drink of iced lime that she sipped slowly, gratefully. It was both relaxing and cooling.

  "Thanks."

  "You need to get more fluids in you. You should know that," he chided her.

  "Yes, mother." It was the standard come-back, and the words were out before what she said dawned on her. Tears welled up, and she blinked hard as Hugo's hand quickly covered hers, gripping it in a silent offer of comfort.

  "Your mother?" he asked. She nodded painfully. "Tell me about her," he prompted, his deep tones dropped to a confidential level. "Sometimes it helps to talk."

  Again she found herself talking about Crystal, explaining to Hugo the closeness she'd shared with her mother, the delight they had had in each other's company.

  "Do you have any other family?" he inquired.

  "Yes, a step-father and step-brother," she admitted, and unable to take any more, burst into tears.

  She felt him pull her out of her chair, then his strong arms were around her, comforting, sharing...saying with their touch, "I understand."

  "Come with me, Perri," he murmured softly, and when she would have resisted, "Come on," in a more demanding tone; one she couldn't withstand at the moment. So she went.

  He flagged down a taxi and helped her in. With quick instructions he paid the driver, then sat beside her as they drove down the street, his arm around her, comforting, supporting, hugging her closely to him.

  "You try to do too much, my dear," he cautioned, tenderly, as the tears continued to flow. "It's too soon after your loss. I know it helps to work hard when you're trying to overcome grief, but you're pushing yourself way too much. You've got to get some rest or you're going to break down. We can't have that."

  "Oh, but I must—”

  "No, you mustn't. I bet you usually don't push yourself like this, right?"

  "Right," she agreed. "I know it's foolish—”

  "Very foolish. You aren't doing anyone any good by wearing yourself out. Now sit back and relax and look at the beauties of Mazatlan. When you're ready, we'll go back to that cafe and have our meal."

  "Oh...they must have thought...."

  "I indicated when we left that we'd be back. Don't worry about it. Relax, querida."

  Perri closed her eyes and relaxed as well as she could. The tears had relieved a little of the tension, leaving her feeling tired and empty, but no longer wound up to the point of making herself sick. The sunlight, filtering through the trees overhead, shone light, then dark on her lids; warm then cool as they passed in and out of the shade. The moment of tears had done her good, strengthening her.

  Hugo was right. She had been pushing too hard. But it was so important to find Owen. Even when relaxing, her inner nerves were tightly strung, draining the strength from her body each day, like the wires of a piano pulling with thousands of pounds of pressure on the sounding board. If she went too long like this, she would break, just as he had said.

  If she told Hugo; she knew he'd understand. Yet it wouldn't help her any. Joe was nearby and still the pressure inside her hadn't lessened.

  Where was Joe right now? Waiting, somewhere back by the restaurant, for their return? She had never spotted him while he was watching her—except at the Mayan show—but then he was an expert at it.

  The taxi stopped at one of the ocean lookouts and Hugo asked the driver to wait while they walked over to where they could look down upon the pounding surf of the otherwise calm Pacific. The tide was in, flinging the huge breakers against the rocks, throwing spray high into the air. The rhythmic crash and roar was loud, but relaxing, and Perri concentrated on the sound, letting it wash over her.

  Close by, a "V" formation consisting of seven pelicans flew just above the waves. Like a squadron of airplanes, they held their places as they skimmed along, searching for fish.

  The ocean had always enchanted Perri and she reacted by flashing Hugo a grateful smile through her tears, feeling her sadness lose its acute pang and dull down into an ache of empty need...much as a sharp scent loses its edge after a minute.

  Hugo stood close behind her, wrapping his long arms around so as to hold her securely.

  "This isn't too high for you, is it?" he asked. "We can move back from the edge."

  "No. I'm okay. Just as long as you hold me."

  He started to sing, softly, a love song she had never heard before. Probably one of his. It was sweet and tender. A perfect song to woo a lady.

  “I think of you, standing beside the blue ocean. Your gentle smile, sending a rainbow my way.” His deep voice, quietly drawling out the romantic lyrics, would have penetrated any woman's armor, and Perri, tucked into the safety of his arms, was no exception. Filled with a soaring delight that eased away her sadness and left it far behind, she clasped his hands to her heart and listened, enchanted, bemused.

  Not a singer? Who was he kidding? He could sing the birds down out of the branches.

  And a woman out of her grief.

  Comforted, Perri felt the remaining pressure slipping away. Hugo seemed to interpose himself between her and her sorrow...to draw the deep aching pain out where it could be dealt with.

  Healing.

  Should she tell him...what she was really doing here? The desire to do so was enormous, almost overpowering. Owen would like this man, she realized. Walt too; even when they learned he was Donegal. They wouldn't hold that against him.

  Perri smiled at that. All in all, Hugo was quite a man.

  Still smiling, she thought of how she had resented his "arrogance" when first she'd met him. He wasn't arrogant at all. It had been an old-fashioned case of intense pursuit, with her as the quarry. Once he'd cut her away from "Junior," he had eased up and changed tactics.

  He'd gotten her attention with his impudence and held her with his charm. Whether true or not, he had the ability to make her feel cherished...as if she was the only one in his life.

  Was she? She wanted to think so.

  An interesting man. Quite unlike any she had ever run into before. As unusual as his choice of professions. Perri felt her tensions leave as she rested against his hard, muscular body; feeling supported and cherished.

  "Thank you. That was not like most of your music at all," she teased when he finished and hugged her to him.

  The grin broadened behind the dark glasses. "Not like Donegal's, you mean."

  His head dipped closer and Perri lifted her lips to his, startled by the sudden flare of desire that coursed in a rapid crescendo through her body. There was no way to measure the intensity of her need for him; except to realize it was many times the desire she had ever felt for a man before.

  During the time they had spent together, her heart had been subtly wooed by this man to the point where she felt she'd explode at his touch. It all hadn't happened in the last half hour, that she knew. She pressed closer, hungry for...for his love.

  The kiss lingered, searching for the truth upon which to build the future of their relationship, filled with pr
omises unspoken...and was over all too soon, for he suddenly broke off, his breath coming in deep draughts. "Feeling better?"

  "Yes." She didn't add what else she was feeling...that she had not had enough, that she wanted more, because she saw that they were about to be joined by a busload of tourists who were making a project out of coming down the rocks.

  "Thanks for the song and the comfort. It was just what I needed."

  "Anytime!" He emphasized the word in that deeply seductive voice that carried so much meaning, making her heart swell with a loving affection.

  "I didn't realize I was pushing myself so hard. I feel much more rested now...and hungry."

  "Then let's go back and eat."

  The taxi returned them to the Golden Zone and they approached the restaurant again, where they were instantly mobbed by three enterprising young boys who wanted to sell them blankets and pottery. Perri recognized them...they had tried to sell to her yesterday.

  "No, thanks," Perri waved them away—she could not buy from everyone—but they persisted...turning to Hugo as a softer touch.

  "Buy these for your lady friend. Please, mister," they begged.

  "One each, then," he compromised—perhaps to get rid of them, for they acted like they were set to stay—bargaining for a tri-colored blanket and a soft cotton scarf.

  The third boy was harder to deal with. He insisted Hugo buy a certain jar out of his wares, refusing to even bargain for one of the others. This jar and only this jar was for the señorita. He personally had chosen it for her. It was the loveliest of them all and the only one deserving of such a one as she.

  "All right. Here," Hugo handed the persistent peddler his price and took the jar, which didn't look all that much different from the others.

  "Gracias. It is very special, señorita." The boy turned to go, hesitated, then stepped closer to Perri to whisper, "Inside."

  Her face paled. Was this the contact from Owen she had been waiting for?

  Hugo carried the items over to the cafe table and laid them carefully next to her chair. "And what did the young man say? That I was a pushover?"