Unbroken Vows

by Frances Williams

  Without the assistance of the cane, David’s limp was worse than she’d ever seen it. He was dragging his left leg slowly and painfully.

  It wasn’t David’s fault that the goons had been able to make their way to the house through the plantings. She was sure he hadn’t overlooked the fact that a possible escape route could work two ways, but there wasn’t a whole lot he could have done about that.

  The two prisoners were ordered down the slope. David’s foot caught in a tangle of vines and threw him to the ground.

  She tried to rush forward to help him. The thug in charge of her yanked her back.

  The machete man kicked David’s injured thigh and ordered him to get up. David moaned loudly. Bile rose in her throat. She shot a look of pure loathing at his tormentor.

  David made it to his feet and soldiered on, limping badly, down the narrow dirt driveway.

  She had no choice but to follow.

  No help was in sight. Apparently seven o’clock in the morning was too early for vacationers to be up and about. Even if a resort worker did happen to spot what was going on, what with traffickers owning the place, she had a strong suspicion the staff might not be too quick to help.

  The weapons prodded her and David along the pier to the end where a narrow wooden ladder led down to a small runabout waiting in the water. A third man had been left at the controls.

  She managed to scramble down the ladder to the deck without falling. No thanks to her guard who made no effort to help her with the awkward jump.

  David stood hesitantly looking down at the boat, apparently trying to figure out how to get himself into it. He’d have trouble maneuvering down the ladder. His guard gave him a vicious shove. He fell from the planking and landed hard on the floor of the boat. His face contorted and he yelped loudly.

  The fall must have hurt him terribly. Usually he tried to squelch any sign of pain.

  She’d never hated anyone in her life, but black hate for these gangsters burst into her mind.

  “You scum,” she shouted. “You contemptible dirtbags.”

  The men ignored her. Maybe they didn’t understand what she was saying. Maybe they couldn’t care less about a woman’s ineffectual anger.

  David sat crumpled on the floor of the boat. She was pushed down beside him. Their two guards settled onto vinyl-cushioned benches on either side of the boat and held their weapons on the Americans. The helmsman touched a switch. The powerful motor growled to life and the vessel leapt out to sea.

  In a matter of minutes they’d left the resort far behind. It looked as if they were heading for the middle of the Caribbean.

  Heaven help them! Were they about to be dumped into the ocean to feed the sharks? After what had happened to poor Manuel, the idea didn’t seem as crazy as it should. She wouldn’t put anything past these horrible people.

  David sat as still as stone, holding his slitted gaze in the direction of the coastline. Perhaps he could still make out land. All she could see was the blue haze of the Caribbean.

  She laid her hand on his back. Not only to offer him what little encouragement she could, but because she needed the comfort that touching him provided. His stillness was deceiving, she discovered. She could feel the coiled tension in the muscle beneath her hand.

  The boat turned east, bringing the shoreline into her view again. They passed a village clinging to the edge of the land in the distance, and several small fishing boats bobbing in the surf. The sight brought her a smidgen of relief. Surely she and David wouldn’t be tossed into the ocean in plain sight of witnesses.

  A naive hope, she discovered. None of the fishermen so much as looked out at their boat as it sped past. Probably they knew all too well to whom it belonged.

  She glanced at her watch. They’d been traveling for almost an hour. They had to be miles and miles up the coast from the resort. Up ahead, the indistinguishable green blur of an isolated island gradually solidified into a thick ridge of palm trees and the dark roofs of several buildings. Apparently their destination.

  The helmsman slowed the motor and expertly eased them alongside a concrete wharf jutting into the ocean. A small fleet of boats were wharfed at the long pier boasting its own fuel pump. The pier seemed considerably out of scale with the modest size of the island. But then it needed to be to accommodate the grand white luxury yacht moored to the other side.

  David needed her help to climb out of the boat and up the ladder to the pier. That he’d asked for help at all showed her that his fall had left him in bad shape. Their captors allowed her to support him as they were herded past a large warehouse near the wharf. Inside, workmen were stacking bales at the open door. Piles of long wooden boxes lined the back wall.

  They climbed a beautifully landscaped path to the palatial residence set on the crest of the island. A silent servant held open one side of imposing double doors that looked as though they’d been salvaged from an ancient church.

  The marble foyer opened onto an enormous room in which touches of gold gleamed ostentatiously from every ornately carved surface. The owner of the place obviously possessed a lot more money than he did good taste.

  A gray-haired man elegantly dressed in beige linen slacks and red silk shirt stood in front of one of the tall arched windows open to the rose garden behind it. He was a slight man, thin and hollow-cheeked, but his authoritarian stance indicated his position as master of the house. He pulled a long cigar out of his mouth and watched their approach over a priceless antique rug the size of a football field.

  A few feet to the right of Dan Kane—who else could it be? — a dark-haired man scarcely out of his teens huddled deep within a large brocaded wing chair. His head drooped over hands clasped tightly between his knees. On the far side of the sofa between them, another man sat in the same type of chair set with its back to her. She could see only the top of a man’s blond head.

  “Tommy!”

  Her fiancé stuck his head around the side of the chair.

  Heavy drug use had ruined Tommy’s work and his life. It hadn’t yet damaged his attractive, boyish grin. Its meaningless charm no longer tugged at her heart, or her sense of guilt.

  “Well, Cara. I never expected to see you here.”

  Dr. Thomas Grant uncoiled himself from the chair and ambled toward her. She walked hesitantly toward him. She’d invested so much emotion, so much time in reaching this moment, but the reality of it left her feeling curiously unaffected.

  “Tommy? Are you all right?”

  “Sure, hon. I’m fine.”

  He certainly looked a lot better than the last time she’d seen him. He was clean and well-dressed and seemed to be completely lucid. She thanked God for that.

  After what Tommy had done, the last thing she wanted was an affectionate greeting from him. She didn’t even want to touch him. He, on the other hand, found nothing incongruous in winding his arms around her in an indolent hug and dropping a light kiss on her cheek.

  Instinctively she glanced over at David. The look on his face as he stood watching them was one of pure revulsion.

  She gave Tommy a few maternal pats on the back and extricated herself from his loose embrace.

  “What are you doing here, Tommy? How did you get here? I’ve spent months looking all over for you.”

  Predictably her questions — remarkably mild compared to her desire to scream a demand for immediate answers from him— roused his ire. “You didn’t have to, you know. I didn’t ask you to come looking for me.”

  “Didn’t you realize I would worry when you disappeared? The last time I saw you, you were — ”

  “I said, I’m fine,” he cut in.

  “I can see that, and I’m relieved.”

  “Dr. Grant, please introduce our guests.”

  A superfluous command—not a request—from the man in charge. Kane had already been given their passports and studied them. He didn’t move from his place at the apex of the group. Quite obviously they were to come to him, not vice versa.


  “Of course, Mr. Kane.” Tommy practically bowed before he led them forward. “I’d like you to meet Dr. Cara Merrill, my former fiancée.” Former fiancée, Cara noted. Well, it might have taken her a while to understand that he wanted nothing more to do with her. Evidently it had taken him no time at all. “I’ve never met the man with her.”

  With a courtly gesture, Dan Kane reached for her hand and lifted her fingertips to his lips. “My dear boy, how could you bear to leave such a lovely woman behind?”

  Kane’s voice and words were pleasant. The look in his coldly assessing eyes was not. A gaze of black glass snapped to her partner.

  “David Chandler Reid.” Kane did not offer his hand. Nor did David. “Your passport claims that you’re a retired naval officer. Exactly how retired are you?”

  “I’ve been a civilian for almost two years.”

  “Really.” Kane looked as if he wasn’t going to buy much of what David might say. “Tommy has given me his version of what Dr. Merrill may be doing in Colombia. Why are you here?”

  “I’m a friend of Dr. Merrill’s. She wanted an interpreter on the trip. I speak Spanish. She doesn’t.”

  “An interpreter who asks many troublesome questions and frequents places not usually visited by tourists.”

  “They’re no worse than some of the other places Tommy has led me to back in the States,” Cara offered. Just looking at this steely man sent shudders down her back, but she wasn’t about to let him see it.

  “An interpreter who does very well for himself in street fights, and who involves himself in the death of an insignificant barrio dweller.”

  “Not by our choice, Mr. Kane,” Cara countered.

  David seemed content to let her do most of the talking. If he’d thought it best, he wouldn’t have hesitated to take control of the interrogation. And she’d learned that his stillness didn’t mean that he wasn’t paying extremely close attention to everything that was going on.

  “Robert.” The sharpness in Dan Kane’s tone made the young man in the chair jump. He wasn’t the only one. “Since our guests are here largely because of your imprudent actions, shouldn’t you bid them welcome?”

  Hard to feel welcome, she thought, when half a dozen armed men ringed the room.

  Robert rose partway from his chair and aimed a sickly smile in their direction.

  “Please sit,” Kane said, gesturing to the sofa in front of him.

  They sat. She and David on the sofa. Tommy in his chair next to it. Kane remained standing, his eyes fixed on his so-called guests. She felt more like his prey.

  “Tommy, what are you doing with these people? What is all this?”

  “It’s not my fault, Cara. Nobody can blame this on me. I didn’t even know you were in Colombia until a few hours ago.”

  Evidently aware that Tommy wasn’t one to give brief and direct answers, Kane took over the explanations.

  “My son met Dr. Grant on a trip to Miami. Robert suffers from juvenile onset diabetes. You understand, Dr. Merrill?”

  Cara nodded.

  “My boy isn’t good about taking care of himself. He collapsed in the street in the throes of a diabetic reaction. Fortunately Dr. Grant was nearby. He took care of Robert, saved him from lapsing into a diabetic coma. Perhaps even saved his life.”

  “A stroke of luck for both of us,” Tommy added. “I was working at a free clinic just up the street from where Robert passed out. After he felt better, we spent several days together checking out Miami’s club scene.” He tried another smile. “Robert’s a lot of fun, Cara. You’ll Like him. When he suggested I come back to Colombia with him, I thought, why not? Robert needs me to oversee his condition. There are good Latino doctors available, but he feels more comfortable with a fellow American. Don’t you, Robert?”

  Comfortable wasn’t the way she’d describe the cherubic-faced young man who nodded weakly. Robert looked the least comfortable of anyone in the room. Which, considering how she felt herself, was saying something. Having Dan Kane for a father, she decided, couldn’t be easy.

  “This place suits my needs perfectly,” Kane said. “But for a young man...” He shrugged. “I thought it would be good for my son to have a companion, an American near his own age. I was not aware that Robert’s friend came with such... encumbrances.”

  Encumbrances such as a jilted fiancée stupid enough to want to help? Or like drug addiction? Would a trafficker consider that an encumbrance? Either way, she wasn’t interested in hearing about this man’s family problems.

  “Tommy, the commander and I were viciously attacked a few days ago.” She turned and pointed to the machete man. “That man there was one of them.” She didn’t see the other two in the room. “An acquaintance of ours was brutally murdered. Tell me the truth. Did you have anything to do with either of those events?”

  “Of course not. How could you think that? I didn’t even know about the incidents until word came early this morning that someone at the resort was asking about Robert and me. Mr. Kane questioned us and found out that Robert had...well...” Tommy’s words trailed off after a nervous look at his host.

  “My son has acted rashly. And I’m afraid his rashness has caused serious problems for all of us. Very serious problems.”

  She didn’t like the way Kane emphasized the seriousness of the problems his son had caused.

  “Robert found out that you were in Bogota looking for me,” Tommy went on. “I guess he was afraid that if you succeeded in finding me, you might take me back to the States with you. I had no idea that he’d sent his personal bodyguard to attack you. Without his father’s knowledge, I’m afraid. I could have told Robert it would probably take more than that to scare you off. I was horrified when I learned that he’d actually had someone killed to prevent him from leading you to me.”

  “You were horrified that someone was killed, Tommy?” she burst out. “These people are drug traffickers. They kill people one way or another all the time.”

  Perhaps not the wisest comment in the world considering their position, but she’d had it with phony politeness.

  Tommy simply ignored her comment. He’d always been good at dodging facts he didn’t like. Maybe she’d been doing a little of that herself. Maybe, at the time, she’d gotten something out of having him be so dependent on her.

  Tommy leaned forward to speak across the low coffee table to his friend. “I wish you’d talked to me first, Robert. You didn’t need to try to scare Cara away. Why should I want to go back? You and I are good friends. I’m happy here. You and your father have been more than generous to me.”

  No surprise that David had been right, as usual, Cara thought. Her partner’s cold-eyed view of Tommy’s probable reluctance to return home had been a lot more realistic than hers. Looking at the situation from Tommy’s point of view instead of her own, she could almost understand his choice. Why give up a life of luxury to return with her to an uncertain future back in the United States?

  If only he weren’t with such hateful people.

  “You don’t have to stay here, Tommy,” she said. “I’ve found an excellent rehab program — ”

  He slapped the arm of the chair. “I don’t need a rehab program. And I’m tired of you telling me what I should or shouldn’t do. You pushed me to keep on with the residency when I told you it was too much for me. I thought I might be able to cope better if we were married, but our engagement just added one more pressure on me. You’re too much for me, Cara. I started in on the drugs because of you. You kept at me and at me until I needed to find some kind of relief.”

  David’s hands clenched into fists.

  Tommy’s nasty words hit her like a blow. How could someone she’d been friends with for so long—a man who once claimed to be in love with her—charge her with something so patently untrue?

  “Oh, Tommy, I just tried to help. That’s the only reason I came here. To try to help. And you started in on the drugs long before I tried to get you off them.”

  “I don
’t need your help. I’m fine now. Drugs aren’t a problem for me anymore.”

  “He’s right.” David bit out the words. “Drugs aren’t a problem because he can easily maintain his habit here. Ask him why he’s the only man in this very warm room wearing a long-sleeved shirt.”

  David reached over to grab Tommy’s arm. The nearest gunman took a menacing step forward. At the small motion of Dan Kane’s head the guard halted.

  David shoved up Tommy’s sleeve so hard the button popped off.

  A glimpse was enough to show her the fresh tracks of a continuing heroin user. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away. Tommy was no longer her responsibility, but the evidence of his continuing addiction was hard to take.

  “I intended to give you back your ring, but your new friends here—” she angled her head toward the group of kidnappers “—prevented that. The ring is in my purse at the resort. I’ll leave it in the guest safe. You can pick it up there.”

  “It appears,” Kane said, “that the tender reunion is over. Now, suppose you tell me the real reason you two have been tracking my son.”

  “We haven’t been tracking your son, Mr. Kane. We’ve been trying to find Tommy.”

  “Do you expect me to believe, Doctor, that you came all this way simply to see a man you were once engaged to? I didn’t notice any excess of affection in your greeting to Dr. Grant. Even less in his reaction to you. That story, though, could provide good cover for American agents.”

  His hard gaze landed on David. “Which are you and the doctor, Commander Reid, DEA or CIA? Both agencies have caused me considerable nuisance over the years.”

  “Neither of us are government agents of any kind,” David said, as calmly as if he’d been asked the time of day. “Our reasons for being here are exactly as Dr. Merrill has explained.”

  “Ridiculous. You’ve been trying to reach me through my son. Your government has been trying to nail me for years. One of the reasons I’m now a citizen of this country.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Tommy,” Cara said, “you know darn well I don’t have any connection to the DEA or the CIA. Neither does David. He’s not on active duty. This has gone far enough. I’ll appreciate it if you’ll tell your friends to take us back.”