by Scott Cook
“Is everything okay, Scott?”
I grinned, “I think it’s starting to get that way, Juan. Listen, you’re in the hospitality business… do you have contacts with any major hotels in the country?”
“Si,” He replied, “Most of them, why?”
“I’ve got a lead on where Palmer’s wife might be,” I explained, “By the way… has he been behaving himself?”
Juan chuckled, “Umberto’s men have been keeping him in line. What is your lead?”
“Okay… I overheard two of Garcia’s men say that they’re going to Manuel Antonio tonight,” I said excitedly, feeling truly hopeful for the first time in days. “Isn’t there a resort near there?”
“Si! Si! Arenas del Mar,” Juan replied, “I have a good friend there. He is one of the managers.”
“Can you ask him if there is an American woman staying there,” I began.
Juan laughed, “The odds are Bueno.”
Lisa chuckled. I had the phone on speaker.
“Wise asses…” I grumped good-naturedly. “She’s tall, golden haired, beautiful and very sexy. She’s rich and probably alone. You can ask Umberto and Miles for more information. Maybe even a photo. Ask your friend to let you know if she’s there. Then if so, ask him to book me a room adjoining hers. The one above would be preferable.”
Juan said he would do it right away and hung up.
“You’re practically beaming,” Lisa said with a grin.
I rubbed my hands together, momentarily forgetting that I was behind the wheel. The Jeep swerved slightly before I steadied the wheel with my knee.
“Hey, don’t kill us before you solve the case.”
“Oh, sorry!” I laughed. Then I dialed another number.
“Scott, how are you?” Santino asked.
“Moderately neato, thanks for asking,” I quipped.
He laughed, “You sound more optimistic today. Everything all right?”
I quickly filled him in on the doings since we’d spoken the day before, starting with the attack at Missy’s house. He uttered a surprised curse.
“I’ve got some leads,” I explained. “One I’m following up on tonight… but I need your help with another. This one is more of a hunch than anything.”
“Go ahead.”
“Our biggest problem in finding Clay and Declan is that I don’t know where this Garcia’s base is,” I explained. “But I had a conversation with a priest this morning—“
“Probably long overdue,” he said with a chuckle.
“Is everybody a smart ass?” I asked no one in particular. Lisa only cocked an eyebrow at me and Santino laughed.
“Sorry, keep going.”
“Okay… so this priest tells me that a crucifix necklace I found on one of the dudes at Missy’s was bought in the town by the girl who gave it to him,” I explained. “They were to be married but both vanished. She and her family live on a farm east of the town near the San Juan. I don’t know why… but my thinking is that maybe Garcia’s base is on or near the river.”
“Makes sense,” Santino replied. “So what can I do?”
“Can you ask if McClay has access to any satellite imagery?” I inquired. “Maybe get him to have his people do a scan of the less populated sections of the San Juan River? My guess would be that any base of Garcia’s would be on the right bank, since he and his men are doing a lot of driving. It’s a long shot, but who knows?”
“I think I can arrange that,” Santino replied. “I’m in Limon now… actually I’m on the Robert Ballard as we speak. I’ll speak with Joe and get back to you.”
“Do you really think—” Lisa’s question was cut off by the ringing of the satellite phone.
It was Juan again, “Scott! My friend Hector says that she is there. Registered under the name of Wellington.”
I laughed out loud, “Wellington! Of course! How clever…”
Juan gave me the room number and said that it was the one directly above hers.
“Yes!” I exclaimed after hanging up.
“Wellington?” Lisa asked in confusion. “Does that mean something?”
I was grinning all over my face, “During the Napoleonic Wars, the Wellesley family was very prominent. One of them had a high position in the British Admiralty. The most famous brother, Arthur, was the general that finally defeated Bonaparte. Sir Arthur Wellesley became the Duke of Wellington!”
“I guess being a history buff isn’t so entirely useless,” Lisa teased.
I stuck my tongue out at her and squeezed her hand. She suddenly frowned.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
She sighed, “It’s just… just I really wanted to believe Miles was a good guy… Why is it that every guy I hook up with turns out to be an asshole?”
I chuckled, “I know right? All men want is to drink your liquor, stuff one up ya and then hit the road! Stupid men…”
“I didn’t mean you, ya’ asshole,” She said with a grin.
“Hey, I never claimed to be anything else.”
She chuckled sardonically, “Yeah, the most honest, noble, honorable, bravest and most caring man I’ve ever known… sure, you’re a real asshole, Jarvis.”
“Well…” I said modestly and smiled. I was in a good mood and just couldn’t help myself. Besides, I was sorry for Lisa and didn’t like seeing her down. “In all honesty… I also want to drink your liquor and stuff one up ya’.”
She guffawed, “Oh my God!”
“Plus, I am kind of a smarty pants.”
“I love that about you,” She said wistfully. “You care deeply for those you love and will go to any lengths for them. Nobody, and I mean no body, will ever doubt you. Nobody would ever wonder if you’re not what you seem or if you’re cheating on them.”
“Well…” I said hesitantly. “I try to live my life by certain rules. Standards if you will.”
“I know,” Lisa said. “Never lie, cheat or steal. Always tell the truth. Take responsibility for your actions, blah, blah, blah… what a douche.”
I laughed, “See?”
She reached out and took my hand. She said nothing for a while, just held it. I knew she was hurting and was probably confused about a lot of things. I wasn’t sure how I could help her, or if I could… yet it was good to see her smile.
Finally we came to the spot where we’d stashed the bike. I stopped the Jeep and got out, stretching my back and moving off into the woods to relieve my bladder.
“So what’s the plan?” She called from the side of the road.
“Just watering the garden!” I called out.
She giggled, “Jesus Christ… you know what I mean, loco!”
“We’re taking that bike back to the steamboat,” I replied. “Would you rather drive the Jeep or the motorcycle?”
“I’ll drive the Jeep,” She said. “That way you can get used to the bike. The tank should be at least half full if not more.”
I walked back out of the woods pushing the motorcycle, “What makes you think I’ll need to get used to it?”
Lisa smirked, “Just a hunch. A hunch that you’re planning something. For instance, you’re planning to go after Andrea tonight, right?”
I nodded, “I have to. You heard those two yahoos in Father Lopez’ office. They’re going to Costa Rica tonight and I doubt it’s for a shopping trip.”
“Want me to come?”
“Repeatedly.”
She smacked me on the arm, “Be serious!”
I smiled, “I am. But no… I think this is one I need to do alone. Not only is it easier to do clandestine work that way… I want to see what this chick is all about.”
“Watch out for her,” Lisa said. “To call her a man eater is an understatement. She’s ravenous in everything she does. She’s a predator.”
“I’ve heard some things to that effect,” I commented.
Lisa laughed, “all understated, too, I’m sure. Believe me, Scott… when a gorgeous hunk of man like you enters her target
zone, she’ll go for the kill. Count on it.”
“So you think I’m cute?” I asked airily.
She just shook her head, “Has anybody ever told you that you’re a silly man?”
“Nope,” I replied, starting the odd bike. It wasn’t exactly a road bike and not exactly a dirt bike but sort of something in between. A custom built job that had the powerful engine of a roadster but the big knobby tires of an off road cycle.
“What the hell is this thing?” I asked when I couldn’t find any sort of brand label.
“I think it’s made by Aprilia,” Lisa said over the rumble of the engine. “Specially built for Costa Rican territory. She’ll ride well on paved roads and on unpaved. Not a bad bike, really.”
I smiled at her, “I never knew you could ride.”
“Oh no?” She asked with a cocked eyebrow. “I’ve ridden you like an old cow poke many a time, darlin’.”
I snorted, “Geez! Didn’t I once tell you I don’t like crude broads?”
“Yeah, but we both know that’s untrue.”
“Okay then,” I said. “Let’s ride, Kemosabe.”
She stepped up and went on her tip toes and kissed me lightly on the lips, “You look good on that bike, sailor.”
I lowered my sunglasses and gave her a thumbs up.
Lisa and I took a bit of a detour. Instead of heading right back to the boat, I had her follow me nearly all the way to Arenas del Mar. I don’t know why, but something told me that I wanted a backup plan. I stashed the bike, having refilled its gas tank, in the jungle near the edge of the Manuel Antonio National Park. It was a bit off the highway that led from the resort into the nearest towns and toward San Jose.
We then headed back to the boat where I got cleaned up and took a short cat nap.
Around five o’clock, I loaded the Jeep with a few supplies and was about to head out when Missy, Lisa and Juan came out to meet me.
“Off on another adventure, Batman?” Missy asked after a quick hug.
“Yup,” I said. “Stage two… or three… or seventeen, who the hell knows.”
“We’ll hold down the fort,” Missy said. “Between Lisa and I and Umberto’s men, nobody’s getting on board.”
“All right,” I said, climbing into the Jeep. “You kids play nice and daddy will be back soon.”
“Bring us something!” Missy chirped with a giggle.
Lisa leaned in and kissed me quickly, “For God’s sake, be careful, Jim.”
“Sound medical advice, Bones,” I quipped and smiled at her.
It was not long before sunset that I arrived at Arenas del Mar. I got checked in and was shown to my room on one of the cliff side bungalows, which were stacked several floors high above the beach. Behind these was a large parking lot where I’d put the Jeep near the back.
The man who showed me to the room was named Luis, and he said that señor Hector had asked specifically that he show me where I would be staying. Luis was a wiry young man with a ready smile.
When we got to the door, he handed me the keycard, “La senora esta aqui.”
“Si?” I asked, pointing straight down.
“Jes, señor. She has been in her room para dos horas…. Two hours now,” Luis said conspiratorially.
I handed him a stack of five twenty dollar bills, “Amigo, are you muy ocupado? Can you do me a big favor… uhm… Puedes hacerme un gran favor?”
Luis’ eyes lit up at the sight of the money, “Jes, señor, jes. I’m free now.”
I switched to Spanish, “This lady might be in trouble. There are men coming, probably in a Jeep like mine or a truck. Can you watch the parking lot and send me a text when they arrive?”
Luis chuckled and in English said: “This is all? Is no problem, señor.”
I grinned and handed him another stack of twenties, “Gracias.”
I went into my room and pulled the only two things I’d brought out of my small knapsack. The first was one of the captured Sig Sauer 9mm pistols with two extra magazines and the other was a fifty foot length of stout one inch line I’d managed to find on the river boat.
I stepped out onto my balcony and took a moment to admire the view. It was truly spectacular. The sun was hanging low and swollen over the glimmering Pacific and a cool breeze was blowing in tinged with the scent of sea air. I was a little sad that I wouldn’t get to spend any more time here. The rest of the resort looked just as spectacular, with beaches and a jungle not far away, it’d be a great place to spend some time.
When I heard the doors open on the balcony below, I sighed and got to work. I tied a bowline around the strong railing, which was a hardwood of incredible density. Probably lignum vitae, or what was known as ironwood. This wood grew so dense it had the hardness of metal and wouldn’t even float in water.
I slipped the Sig into the back of my waistband and waited. I was wearing sneakers, jeans and a nice Guayabera shirt that was comfortable in the warm climate. A casual but presentable outfit for calling on a lady I thought.
When I heard a chair scratch on the tiled balcony floor below, I knew Andrea was outside. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I took it out, already knowing what I’d see. Luis had sent me a text that simply read: dos hombres. Verde camion.
I dropped the rope over the railing and climbed to the outside.
It was time. I figured I had five or six minutes before they made it to her room. The balconies weren’t stacked perfectly vertical. Each floor was set back a foot or two from the one below so that I was able to lower myself down and land just inside Andrea’s balcony. The look on her face was priceless.
“Good evening, Ms. Wellesley,” I said with a shit eating grin on my face. Sometimes you just had to ham it up. It was a lot of fun. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping in on you like this.”
I know… but come on, don’t act like you wouldn’t have said it too.
After a little witty banter, we went inside and I waited. At the sound of the first silenced bullet striking Andrea’s deadbolt, I grabbed her and threw us both to the tiled floor. I’m not sure how it worked out so perfectly, but I was on top of her and between her legs. If we hadn’t been clothed, one of us could easily be accused of trying to get their freak on.
Frankly, when she wrapped her long legs around my waist and ground her crotch into mine, I was pretty sure I was the victim. To be honest, though, it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. She was gorgeous, and her powerful animal desire lit mine off too. I was harder than Chinese algebra before I even realized it.
It wasn’t until I’d fired my own silenced weapon four times and took down the two men who’d burst into the room that I realized what was happening between the woman and myself. I quickly extricated myself from her, after she’d bitten me on the shoulder and I felt my face flush with embarrassment and, I had to admit, the heat of arousal.
We talked for a bit after I’d searched the bodies and found nothing. I found Andrea to be an interesting personality. Although her sex drive seemed almost ludicrously out of control, she was quite obviously intelligent and brave as well. She seemed very complex and not somebody that was easily pigeon holed.
We made it downstairs and I wasn’t that surprised to find that my two buddies had a third man with them. Andrea and I bolted for the Jeep. I had her drive so I could be left to shoot.
Things got extra exciting after she’d sped somewhat unsafely from the parking lot and I emptied the Sig’s magazine at our pursuers. Yes, there were two more men who’d been crammed into that truck. One was left to drive and the other to shoot at us with a high powered rifle.
“Don’t you have another gun?” Andrea asked as we raced along the paved road that led from the resort. “They’re behind us.”
“You don’t say?” I asked, half bent over my seat and trying to pull my AR from the duffel. “They seem to have taken exception to our leaving the party so soon.”
The night crackled as a rifle shot boomed. Even moving at what was probably now well over fifty and being a hundr
ed yards ahead, I clearly heard the report shortly after I saw the muzzle flash.
I don’t know where the bullet went, but it didn’t hit us. I held out little hope that this luck would continue, though. I set the rifle to burst, pulled the charging handle and aimed.
I squeezed off three bursts, aiming low so as not to hit the driver just yet. At that point, I was more interested in getting some distance. It worked a little, because the truck swerved and slowed down, giving us the distance I needed.
“Around this next curve,” I told Andrea, “There’s a side track. Turn onto it and get ready to bolt.”
“What!?” She asked. “What about my luggage?”
“Your matched luggage?” I asked as I turned and plopped back into my seat. “What do you think this is, a Princess cruise?”
“What?” She asked, stomping on the accelerator as her driver’s side mirror shattered.
“Spaceballs,” I replied with a grin. “Duh.”
“You’re fucking crazy!” She shouted but there was a smile on her face. “I think I see your road.”
I twisted around and stuck the barrel of the rifle out of the window and sent another two bursts astern, “Okay, but don’t take it at sixty or we’ll flip over like a goddamned flapjack.”
Andrea downshifted into second, pressed the brake and made her turn. The Jeep fishtailed wildly, actually went up on the passenger side wheels a little and then gratefully righted itself, bouncing on the rough side track.
“Holy shit!” I breathed, my heart racing. “Nice job, Vin Diesel! I think I pooped a little!”
She chortled, “Quit you’re bitchin’, we didn’t flip!”
”Fair enough… just past that stand of trees. Stop us and turn the Jeep so it’s facing the way we came.”
The Jeep came to an abrupt halt and I jumped out, stuffing two more thirty round mags into my pockets. Andrea was standing behind the Jeep and looking around in bewilderment.
“Here,” I said, handing her the Sig and the two extra magazines. “Do you know how to shoot this?”
“Yeah,” She said, taking the weapon, “but like I said, I’m not a great shot.”
I shrugged, “Find me a heavy rock. Or a stick about two feet long might be better. Not too thick, but strong.”