While Carlos installed the water pump, Alyse worked to get the Skye Command ready to go. She made sure they had enough bottled water and canned goods, for they might not have time to restock. There was last minute shopping for fresh fruit and tortillas and beer. Then she stored the gifts they'd bought for Jake's kids and made the place as seaworthy as possible.
When Carlos finished installing the water pump, she paid him handsomely and warned him not to reveal any information. That should keep Carlos and his uncle quiet long enough for her purposes.
Alyse nibbled a piece of cheese rolled in a flour tortilla for lunch and let her eyes roam the cabin while her mind raced. Now have I done everything? Checked out of the hotel, hid the box of jewels, replenished food and supplies, even had the water pump installed. Now all she had to do was to get Jake.
No, wait! The gun! Jake had told her to get rid of it, and she'd completely forgotten about it. She dug around in the bilge until she found the thing. Her hand closed around the hard, cold metal, and she shivered involuntarily. Okay, toss it, she thought. Then another thought occurred: What if. . . what if they needed it? If the weapon was in the bottom of the ocean, it couldn't help a bit.
One never knew, as Bristol was fond of saying, when small items could be used for big chores. Alyse stuffed the gun into her bra. Then she scrambled to her bookshelf and pulled out Bristol Bordeaux and the Isle Treasure. Frantically she thumbed the pages. It was here; she knew it was. She remembered the scene well. It was the same old, solid jail. Made of brick. No windows. No way to escape, save a bulldozer or wrecking ball or dynamite. Or possibly all three. Here! Here it is! Her finger trembled as she traced the lines.
Bristol gazed sadly at her client, slumped, semiconscious, in the corner of the squalid jail. After last night he had become more than a client; he was her lover. And she did not intend to let them destroy him. He was too precious to her. They'd already beaten and tortured him and would return to do it again to extract the information they wanted from him. She had to get him out of there as soon as possible.
But how? A lone woman in a foreign country, no friends, no allies, no help from any source. The jailhouse was an impregnable fortress of brick and mortar and looked impossible to breach. But somehow she must.
Bristol walked outside the building, around it, sizing it up. She had no bulldozer, no wrecking ball, no dynamite, and especially no time! All she had was her own cunning instinct, her manipulative feminine wiles. At this point of near desperation Bristol knew she would use any tactic necessary to save him. She would do anything to free him!
It pained her to see what they'd already done to his magnificent body, to his handsome face. She couldn't stand the thoughts of what they might do to him next. If she left him there much longer, they might kill him. That chilling realization spurred her to initiate her plan posthaste.
Shortly thereafter Bristol approached the impenetrable jail dressed in…
Alyse slammed the book closed and flung open the small hanging closet and sorted through for just the right effect. "Ah, yes," she murmured, pressing the colorful items against her breast. "This will be just the trick!"
Jake picked at his food. He tried to eat in order to keep up his strength, but the meal was horrible.
The jailer, though, was having no trouble devouring it. He slurped the greasy chicken chunks off the bone and stuffed them into his mouth with his chubby fingers. Then he tossed the bones through a tiny barred window at the end of the hall. He laughed at the sounds of growling dogs outside, groveling for the bones. It became a game, this gnawing the chicken and tossing the bones out the window and listening for the dogs.
Jake watched the procedure dully, his elbows resting on his thighs, his hands hanging weakly between his widespread knees. He'd spent a hellish night, constantly alert to the possible return of those who demanded information. He'd been barely able to sleep. And now he felt like hell. But he had to hang on, had to retain his sense of balance and alertness. Oh, God, how he needed to get out of this place. But how? It was solid.
No, he would just have to wait for James. Maybe today or tomorrow James would come. Alyse should be there by now. She should have already contacted James. Perhaps they were meeting at this minute to transfer the jewels.
Alyse. He tried not to think of her. But his mind was playing tricks on him. Right now, as miserable as he was, she represented warmth and softness and a degree of innocence that were his mental refuge. Thoughts of her kept him sane. Kept him thinking and alert. Reminded him of a better life outside this jail cell if he'd just hang on. Right now, though, she seemed to be another world away.
Jake stood and did leaning push-ups against the brick wall. The roughness beneath his fingers reminded him of her softness and how smooth her skin was against his. Oh, God, he wanted to touch her again.
The jailer's rude laughter broke into Jake's reverie. He watched silently as the huge man rumbled down the hall and picked up the bones that had fallen short of sailing through the bars. Chuckling, he tossed them out the window, and the dogs' uproar rose again.
"Gomez," Jake said. "What am I waiting for?"
"For positive identification."
"Identification for what?"
"Ho-ho, you know, you cur! Bronson, don't try to fool us! Don't think you can come to this country and pretend to be one of us, then leave when you're ready."
"I'm not trying to fool anyone. I just want to know what I'm accused of. In America that's one of our basic rights. The police have to tell a man why he's arrested and in jail."
Gomez grinned evilly. "But you are not in America, cur. You are here! And I am in charge."
"I'm innocent," Jake said again.
"We will see."
"Why the delay?"
"We are waiting for someone to come from the chief office of the army from Mexico City. They will be here soon, as soon as they can make it anyway. Perhaps in a week or two. Expect them, Bronson. Think about him. And how he will greet you if you are the one he is looking for."
Jake gripped the bars. "But I am not that man! Believe me, Gomez! Whatever he has done does not involve me. I am on vacation with my girlfriend. You didn't find drugs on me, so what is my crime? What is this nonsense with the army?"
"If you are innocent, do not worry, señor. You will be free to go." Sergeant Gomez ambled away and settled himself in a creaking chair in the office. Soon Jake heard snoring and knew the man was dozing during the sweltering siesta time.
Jake thought he would die if he had to stay in this rotten cell for a week or two. In frustration he heaved himself down on the hard bunk and tried to sleep. Instead, he thought of Alyse.
Sometime in the fly-buzzing quiet he imagined hearing her voice. Must be dreaming. He opened his eyes and blinked. He did, dammit. He heard her talking to Gomez! Jake bounded to his feet and clutched the bars, trying to see into the office. Her voice was silky sweet, persuasive, tinged with laughter. Was it really Alyse? It sounded so different, almost seductive. Not like her at all. Well, yes, like her, but not in a place such as this. The last time here she'd been indignant and angry. There was nothing angry in that tone.
Curiosity nearly drove him crazy. He could catch only snatches of her conversation.
"Buenos dias, Sergeant Gomez. I'm so glad to see you're alone today." Alyse wore an exquisite necklace set with rubies and small diamonds. The largest ruby was surrounded with sparkling diamonds and nestled intimately in the gentle valley between her breasts. It was an evocative sight. She dipped lower so he could get a tantalizing view of her tanned flesh behind the expensive jewelry. "That means we can be alone for a little while. I've been thinking about you, Sergeant. A lot."
"You have, señorita?" Sergeant Gomez's eyes glazed with greed and lust. He watched spellbound as she flounced into the police headquarters dressed provocatively in an off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, a gathered skirt with ruffles around the hem, pink sandals, and long, flashy earrings that dangled to her shoulders.
A
lyse skirted the chest-high counter and perched merrily on the edge of Sergeant Gomez's desk, waving a long neck bottle of beer. "I thought you might need a little refreshment. It's very hot in here, Sergeant. Aren't you hot?"
"Uh, no, señorita," he mumbled. His eyes followed every feminine curve she flaunted. And she flaunted as much as she could.
"Well, I am! This place is sooo hot." She angled the bottle up to her lips and pretended to take a swallow. Then she tilted the bottle toward him. "Want some?"
He shook his head vigorously.
"I have something special for you, Sergeant Gomez. It could be worth a lot if you're interested." Alyse paused to smile seductively and lower her voice. "I have a confession to make. I like a big man. They turn me on, if you know what I mean. And you're a very big man, Sergeant."
Gomez gulped visibly, and Alyse could see little beads of perspiration pop out on his forehead. She smiled and pushed her hair back behind one ear. "Por Dios, it's hot."
The sergeant leaned forward and gripped the desktop with white-knuckled hands. "I think you had better go señorita."
"Go?" She laughed wickedly. "My goodness, I just got here! Aren't you interested in having a little fun, Sergeant? You know, I could tell the minute I met you that you have much intelligence. I'll bet you're bored to tears in this dull, hot job."
"Yes —uh, no, señorita," Gomez stammered.
Alyse leaned forward, elbows on her knees, showing off the ruby necklace and ample cleavage. "You know, my boyfriend was foolish to get caught by the police. But you! You are a smart man. I can see it in your eyes. And I like that in a man." She took another swig of beer. "All this could be yours. . ."
"You want me to let him go?" Gomez gave her an accusing glare.
"Oh, heavens, no! Let's keep him tucked away," she said with a giggle. She waved one hand airily toward the cells. "We could have so much more fun without him!" She set the beer down beside her on the desk and made elaborate efforts to lift her arms upward and unlatch the brilliant necklace. Like a hypnotic device, she let it dangle before Gomez's nose. "Want this? Or me?"
His dark eyes widened, and perspiration trailed profusely down both sides of his face as he watched her performance. He licked his lips and stared at the sassy young woman perched on his desk corner. "Dios mio." He swiped at his forehead.
"I understand how hard it is, Sergeant, to find happiness in a job like yours." Alyse crossed her legs, showing a shapely knee and calf beneath the hem of the skirt. "It isn't often that I find a man who appeals to me the way you do. We should take advantage of this special thing between us. No one will know. Just the prisoner. And we'll make sure he keeps quiet."
"H-how, señorita?" Gomez struggled with her logic. He rubbed his chin while he tried to think it through. Watching her obviously made thinking extremely difficult.
But Alyse wasn't about to give him time to think. What if another cop showed up? They'd be dead geese! She had to hurry. Hopping down from her little perch, she came around to the side of his desk. "How many times have you held a real ruby? Rubbed a real diamond?"
"N-never, señorita." He gulped as his eyes roamed past the gleaming ruby to the gentle swells of her perfect breasts.
"I'll bet you'd love to touch these," Alyse said in her most sultry tone. She had him! She could see him weakening! It was just a matter of time. But that was something she had precious little of. "They feel smooth and expensive, Sergeant. Go ahead, touch."
He reached out, and she danced away, taunting him with her swaying body. "Ah, Sergeant, we must hurry. Now is the best time for our little fun while everyone enjoys siesta."
Suddenly he lunged for her and locked his pudgy hand around the ruby. She let him have the necklace and twirled away. "Ah-ah, Sergeant! Don't be greedy! You must have patience."
The sergeant was on his feet, perspiring more profusely than ever and panting for air.
"Oh, com' on, Sergeant. Have a little cerveza. You seem really hot now." Before he could get out of her way, she stumbled forward and spilled some beer on his shirt.
He jumped back against the wall.
"Oh, scuse me, Sergeant." She furiously wiped the front of his shirt.
"Get —get away from me, señorita," he moaned, trying unsuccessfully to avoid her touch.
"Com' on, Sergeant, don't you want a little beer? Maybe your prisoner does. This'll keep him quiet." She danced into the hallway leading to the jail cells.
Sergeant Gomez lumbered after her. "Señorita, come back here!"
Before he could catch her, Alyse thrust the half-empty beer bottle between the bars to a startled Jake. Then she danced around the sergeant, circling and trailing his huge body with her hand. He grabbed at her, but she managed to stay just out of his reach. Backing against the end wall, she propped her fists on her hips and thrust her breasts out seductively. "Come and get me, Sergeant!"
"Alyse!" Jake's furious bellow echoed inside the brick walls. "What the hell are you doing?"
Sergeant Gomez ignored Jake and started toward Alyse, unfastening his trousers as he went.
When he was still a few steps away, she pulled her skirt up to her thighs . . . and withdrew Jake's gun strapped there. Pointing it directly at Sergeant Gomez's round belly, she muttered with false bravado, "Drop your pants, Sergeant. Let them fall down to your ankles."
"Dios mio," Gomez muttered frantically. "Madre de Dios, por favor, señorita."
"Drop them, Gomez!" Alyse commanded.
The trousers slid to the floor, and the inept jailer stood there helplessly in his underwear, making small moaning sounds.
Alyse motioned with the weapon. "Perfect. Now unlock that cell. And don't try anything. I'm a crack shot with this thing."
Sergeant Gomez waddled toward Jake's cell, his trousers binding his feet at the ankles. He fumbled nervously with the keys but finally found the one that fit.
Jake's eyes explored her as he waited for the cell door to swing open. "I can't believe this, Alyse. I must be dreaming."
"You're not." She smiled grimly. "I'm here to get you out, Jake."
The cell door clanked open, and Jake moved through it quickly.
"Okay, inside, Sergeant," Alyse ordered.
Obligingly the jailer scuffled into the holding cell, and Alyse kicked the barred door shut. The lock clanked into place automatically.
"Getting pretty cocky at this, aren't you?" Jake observed wryly.
Alyse began moving down the hall. "Come on, Jake. I've made all the arrangements for us to leave. But we have to go now before someone shows up. Here, take this." She thrust the gun into his hands and murmured low, "But don't rely on it too heavily. It isn't loaded."
"Oh, Dios mio," he groaned, and stuffed the weapon into his waistband. "Crack shot, huh? You don't follow orders very well, do you?" he hissed.
"Never did." She grinned. "We can argue about it later, Jake."
His brown eyes narrowed with the definite promise that the subject would be covered at a later time in greater depth. "Then let's go."
They dashed into the front office. "See if you can find your passport, Jake. You'll need it if we get stopped by anyone."
"Guaranteed," Jake said, and began rummaging through the desk drawers.
Alyse checked at the window to see if the streets were still empty. "Looks clear, Jake. Hurry!"
"Ah! Here it is!" He stuffed the item in his back pocket. "And some handcuffs. We'd better fix Gomez so he can't yell too soon." He dashed back into the cell area and removed the jailer's pants altogether. Then, with Alyse holding the unloaded gun, he handcuffed the sergeant's hands and feet, leaving him completely immobile. They ripped an old pillowcase and used it as a gag to keep him quiet.
Jake locked the cell and glared at Alyse. "Now, as for you, young lady—"
"We don't have time for a dissertation, Jake. The Skye Command is ready to go."
"Vamos then!" Jake hesitated. "Alyse, I'm anxious to know how you did this. I couldn't hear everything you were saying out
there to Gomez. But when you came back here with him —"
"You wouldn't want to know everything." She smiled smugly. "I bribed him."
"You what?" He rolled his eyes back. "And all this time I thought you were nice and innocent."
"Nice, yes. But, innocent? Hardly!" She pointed out the window. "Our cab. Let's go."
Before he could question her further, they were dashing across town in their most dangerous escapade so far. Now they were escaped criminals in Mexico.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
With the open sea before them and the perils of Mexico behind them, or so they thought, Jake and Alyse breathed a collective sigh of relief. They stood on the fly bridge together, watching in all directions, intent on heading out into the Pacific as rapidly as possible.
Finally Alyse said, "You look like hell, Jake. I'm going below to fix you something to eat. You come on down in a few minutes. We can steer from the lower helm."
"Sounds great," he said with a grateful nod. "Then we can talk. And you can tell me what's going through that crazy brain of yours and why you didn't do as I said and go on home."
"Sorry to counter all your well-thought-out plans, Jake, but I figured I was in charge as long as you were in jail. Anyway, if I'd done as you said, you wouldn't be standing here with the wind in your hair right now. Isn't this fun?"
"Fun is not a term I use when the entire Mexican Army is after me."
Alyse flung her arm out to the blue seas.
"Don't be so negative, Jake. There's no one after us. See?"
Jake sighed. Even after all she'd been through, she was still naive and optimistic. Oh, God, he feared for her. For them.
She squeezed his arm. "And after you eat a bite, I want you to rest. I'll bet you haven't slept a solid hour in the last twenty-four."
"It's hard to sleep when you think someone might be coming soon to knock your block off."
She went below and started to make hamburgers. When he joined her, she handed him an opened beer.
"I couldn't sleep either, Jake, thinking of you in that awful place all by yourself."
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